Skip to main content

Short blog post coming to you from the splash pad.


First bit of writing I’ve done in public in a while and it’s at a busy, kid-filled splash pad.  It’s partly cloudy out so I’m actually comfortable sitting outside watching my kids now and that is not a frequent feeling in the middle of July in Texas!


This week has been hard.  Frustrating - over the uphill climb of trying to clean my house, trying to deal with fighting, needy kids, picking up puppy poop and wanting-a-break-from-being-needed hard.  It’s normal stuff.  Menial.  I know.

I know my puppy will eventually potty train and his messes are temporary.  I know.  I know one day it will be easier to keep house.  I know.  And I know that my kids are growing fast and that one day I will miss the chaos and the being needed.  I know.

But sometimes the weight of my responsibilities is heavy and I’m feeling it this week.

Despite my grumpy, feel-sorry-for-myself attitude, I’m able to move forward. Continue with my responsibilities. Take my kids to places like – well, here. The splash pad.  Not because of my own strength but because of the tug of the Holy Spirit who whispers “Pssh – hey. Remember to pray. Remember Whose you are.”

Yeah.  I actually try to ignore that sometimes because I can be really, really dumb.  I’ll pray LATER, I think to myself.  First I’ll self-wallow.

The tug comes again.  No, not later. Now. Stop what you’re doing and pray, right now.

*Sigh* FINE. I’ll pray.  But I’m still overwhelmed and frustrated and overwhelmed and frustrated is where I will stay, dang it!

Reluctantly (this is a bit embarrassing to admit but it’s true, I was reluctant with my prayer) I started a rosary.  Almost stubbornly, like a kid that was avoiding broccoli or something.  But I did it.  I prayed a full rosary because I felt like I was being told to.

And, surprise, surprise – my attitude changed. Nothing about my circumstances did. My house is still in dire need of cleaning. My six kids still need me for big and little things.  There is still work for me, lots of it, in my day.

But today I’m feeling grateful for it.

I’ve been occasionally writing, occasionally watching my kids at this splash pad and you know something? They’re playing really well right now.  Laughing, chasing each other, even holding hands occasionally.  They are being sweet to one another and to some other random children they just met today at this place.  I feel proud of them.  I feel proud to be their mother.

And I didn’t even know I’d get a chance to write a blog post today – this was in no way planned.  But I’m grateful to get an opportunity to share these thoughts.

Thanks, Jesus, for always having my back even when I am completely undeserving.

Until next time . . .


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A love story

Once upon a time, a 20-year-old female sailor was almost arrested for violating article 134 of the Uniform Code of Military Justice.   What was she doing, you ask?   Well, she was conducting in a nature that would bring discredit to the Navy.   More specifically?   She was drinking under the age of 21.   Even more specifically?   She was drinking a bottle of Bud Light, with approximately 8-10 other young sailors, in a friend’s barracks room. This young girl knew she shouldn’t have been drinking underage.   But she wasn’t very bright, and was not thinking of the consequences of her actions if she were to be caught, so she did it anyway. That evening, a young male sailor on duty (he was a master-at-arms in the Navy, in other words-military police) was patrolling the barracks.   He’ll tell you now, if you ask him, that he was bored and looking for something to do. Well, he found something.   He found the aforementioned girl and her friends, drinking beer at the barracks, door

I don’t drink anymore. But nothing has changed! (Except everything.)

Hi, my name is Christy, and I don’t drink. I used to. I used to drink kinda frequently, actually. But now I don’t.   No, I didn’t hit some ‘rock bottom’ moment, like drinking and driving and almost killing myself (or someone else.) I didn’t stop taking care of my responsibilities while drinking. I still woke up and took care of my kids every day. I just decided that it was getting to be too much. I was starting to dislike the way I felt. And I quit. I don’t drink anymore, but nothing has changed. (Except everything.) I used to be the first to say, with a laugh, “I don’t WANT to parent without alcohol!” Parenting is hard. My children are gifts that I thank God for daily, but the work involved with raising them is the hardest work I’ve ever done. ‘Mommy wine’ culture is a thing, and I was all about it. (well, I wasn’t so much a wine girl as a beer girl, but nonetheless I bought all of the 'mommy juice' sentiment that came with drinking.) I would tell myself that I deser

How my kids HELP my writing productivity

This blog post is not a joke.   Seriously.   I’m going to explain the ways my children actually help me with my writing endeavors. Sure, I could write about all of the ways my children hinder the process – my youngest daughter is literally sitting on my lap as I type – but I don’t really need to tell you that, do I? It’s common knowledge that even one child takes up a lot of time.   And I have six.   Free time is a thing of my past. My view while typing today.  I have a shocking revelation, however, that I wish to share now – my children have actually helped me with my writing.   It’s true.   Here’s how: They have taught me (and are teaching me daily) about patience. And let me tell you, writing a book takes a lot of patience. My biggest teacher of patience by far has been parenting.   I’ve found that the wearisome moments of putting a toddler back to bed after she’s gotten out for the ninth time, or watching my kindergartner spend ten minutes trying to tie one shoe