Hats

HATS by Rachelle Phipps

When you see me in town, then hear about things I do at home, well, it creates a lot of mystery. I kill opossums under my chicken coop one day, holding them up for the world to see on Facebook, and then show up in heels and skinny jeans the next. I'm really not who I seem to be, because I have to wear a lot of hats. I'm wearing the hat of an army wife and have been for over a decade, so I have to be resourceful and resilient and forgiving and sexy (more on that later) all at the same time. I say sexy, because that's how I maintain my sanity and it's a survival mechanism for feeling like I have it all together (plus I believe we should be good-looking for our men -more on that later). The more I look put-together and fashionable, the more you can bet, that it has been a stressful day and I honestly took 18 minutes to do something for myself, for once... As an army wife, my other survival mechanism is ferociously cleaning two days prior to my husband leaving and for a week after he leaves. I've come to realize it's the only thing I feel I have control over in this lifestyle.


I wear the hat of a veteran homeschooling mom and that one is quite puzzling. I'm never sure exactly how I feel about it because some days are amazing and grace-filled and perfect, and some days it feels like a Wild West show in which I created the performers. It's worth it though, especially on the days that I internalize the fact that my five kids are learning more than just academics, but life skills, ability to interact with any age, and a great work ethic (yes, I know they can learn those things in public school too, but let me just have this moment). Mostly, I'm just happy that I get to spend my whole day with them. Honest truth. ‪#‎phippsfamilyhomeschool‬



Speaking of the five children (and maybe more in the future), that's my other hat. I wear the hat of mom to a tribe of quirky kids who detest the questions I get from strangers: "don't you know how that happens?" or the questions they get from strangers: "Is that your sister or your mom?", (speaking of me) and "Why aren't you at school?" I like this hat though; I always wanted 6 or 8 kids and God's been good to us. Being a mom is fantastic work and I can honestly say I love every moment of it. Really. I was only supposed to be the mom of three but now I get to be the mom of five so I cherish every part...every season...every day. ‪#‎soblessed‬


My other hat should be labeled "network marketing enthusiast", because seriously, I wish I could join them all! I dabbled around in two network marketing companies before I found "my people" and "my thang". Yes I said thang, not thing...a thing is something you just do because you have to...a thang is something you're passionate about and good at. So I do my thang and love every minute of it. It's not going away any time soon!! ‪#‎plexusforlife‬
Another hat I wear is "small farm owner" but the farm seems really big when I'm trying to take care of it by myself. This is the hat covered in grass from weed-eating, dirt from gardening, and horse hair from riding bareback on the mare that I've owned since I was 10...I don't like to ride other horses; just her. The kids and I sell chicken and duck eggs on Sunday. Chickens have always been a passion of mine but owning ducks has turned out to be my niche so the "duck-girl" hat isn't getting discarded any time soon, either. There's too much to mention with this farm-woman hat. It encompasses my life...hence the reason I feel the need to dress up, even to church and Awana, or the grocery store. I'm a hillbilly bum, the rest of the time, so that's my only time to feel like a lady! ‪#‎hillbillycharm‬ ‪#‎kybluegrassgirl‬ ‪#‎thatduckgirl‬



One hat that confuses the hell out of me is my "Lover" hat. I'm a wife to someone who is incompatible with me but completes me in every way. Later you'll hear about a hat that is the epitome of antithesis (you know...the opposite of what you would think) and this one is like that hat, except I call it the epitome of contradiction. Everything I am that is good and worthwhile is not what he is. Everything in me that I am terrible or useless at, he excels at. Everything in him that is wonderful and true and pure, I am not even close to being. Everything in him that is undesirable, and worthless, I have an easier time with. Marriage was not created to make you happy. It was created to make you holy and IT WILL, IF YOU LET IT. The marriage hat is the hat I could pull my hair out along with, but I don't. To me, the marriage hat is as serious as the next one I'll be talking about. The commitment hat is what this marriage hat should be called...not always...but always when it can be. It should be sexy too, when it can be. Not always, but when it can be. Not when you're pushing an 8-pound human being into the world, but all other times. Sexy and committed. That's what I try to be. I think those two things will have you covered. You're not going anywhere and you look amazing where you're not going. Done deal. I need a hashtag for this area of my life...how about ‪#‎sexyandstaying‬ Cooking is important too, but I learned the hard way that it's not the most important. Sexy while cooking is snazzy though. Just don't fry bacon naked.



Besides all that I've mentioned and the ones I don't have time to mention, like: sister to three amazing people...friend to many (though I seriously suck at this one)... lover of all things Dwight Yoakam (most of my life- goals revolve around something to do with Dwight ‪#‎timedontmattertome‬ or the TV show LOST)...daughter of two fine people... hater of Pinterest (seriously, I hate Pinterest)... housekeeper (if you know me, this is one thing I do excel at...if nothing else...at least I've succeeded at the cleanliness-is-next-to-godliness thang-->notice I said Thang) ...amateur writer who struggles with security, competency, and capability issues, not to mention...finding the time to write and avoiding dangling modifiers (I definitely had to edit one sentence up there that sounded like I was selling chicken and duck eggs along with my children)...and many other hats that aren't worth listing, my last hat is who I really am under all the fluff. It's the hat that really defines me. I don't think many people know who they really are. They don't know the hat that really defines them. But I do. It's holey, its worn, its the opposite of everything you think it should be, it's been with me since I was 19 and selfish and proud and mean-turned-redeemed. It has stuck with me when I was self-righteous and judgemental and when I didn't deserve to wear it. It hung topsy-turvey, holding on by a thread, when I was heart-broken and desperate for real love and acceptance. When everything else was stripped from me, and I had nothing left to cover the humiliation and nakedness of a raw heart, I wore it because it was all I had left to wear. Even when I had to pin it, to keep it in place, this hat convinced me to keep it on; that it was worth it. When I went through circumstances that would cause most to throw this hat in the air and high-tail it outta there, this hat promised me it would never forsake me, so I didn't forsake it. This hat has seen nights of depression and desperate fighting down in the muck, for my place and purpose...valleys of disappointment, betrayal, confusion, cuss words in my journal, teardrops on the pillow... This hat has been to the mountains of promises fulfilled many times over, blessings bestowed on my undeserving life, the sewing and binding up of a wounded heart, extreme victories over captive, pet, and even non-conscious sins brought to the light. This hat is the real me. This is the hat that Christ himself gave me to wear. The other hats I chose to wear. This hat I chose, but it was also chosen for me in some weird, predestined, theological, way that I can't explain. There's this balance between laying your whole life down and giving up everything, but at the same time taking up something that's being freely given and placing it on your head and the only reason you are wearing it is because Christ chose to put it right there in your path. Christ predestined my path and where it would lead and he placed that hat there for me to find, and there in the slum of life, in the dirt of a twisted trail, I desperately gave up everything (just like I do to this very day), and I chose to place that hat on my head. I choose this hat everyday, but it also chose me. And it's white....Good thing.

Valentines Day All Month ~ Day 3 ~ Of Him Who Loves Children (And She Who Is Grateful)

February 3, 2014 · Valentines Day All Month ~ Day 3 ~ Of Him Who Loves Children (And She Who Is Grateful)


12:53 pm, a hot summer day, a squawking cry is heard. A boy is born. A father is born. 5:01 am, 8:42 am, 2:02am, 1:02 am...a father is increasingly being perfected. Time. God makes all things beautiful in His time, the wise king said. What truth. But how much easier when God begins, from the beginning, with a man who loves and wants children. Such a joy to a mom like me who always dreamed of a large family. When a man loves his children, a woman can forgive a lot. When his children run to him when he returns from work, crawling, clawing, and jumping all over him, especially the toddler, there is a safety there, where a woman knows her precious children are secure, happy, and safe. Think of every woman friend you know. I'm sure you can think of many whose husbands don't love the children, don't know how to, don't care to. Most of these women probably live alone with their children, and a broken heart. Some abandoned; some alone by choice. All sad. Where are the men? Where are the women who are content and grateful; thankful and appreciative of the men who live out Jesus's words of "Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them..."?


See with fresh eyes, your man, who is loving and tender with the children. Forgive him of his failings in other areas, whether great or small. Live in gratitude for the strengths he does have, the weaknesses he is trying to overcome by God's grace, and build a beautiful family with him. <3 Are you a barren woman? You can have a house full of children and still be barren. Read the definition:

1 : not reproducing
a : incapable of producing offspring
b : not yet or not recently pregnant
c : habitually failing to bear fruit
2 : not productive: as
a : producing little or no vegetation : desolate
b : producing inferior crops
c : unproductive of results or gain : fruitless
3 : devoid, lacking
4 : lacking interest or charm
5 : lacking inspiration or ideas


A barren mother of children is devoid of joy, happiness, and strength. She lives life with no purpose, lacking gain, and frittering away her life. She doesn't better herself or her family with learning, growing, and graceful living. She doesn't open her hands, her heart, or her mind to new ideas, to the will of God, to opportunities, to others, to her husband. Don't worry; I'm guilty of it, too. But what does the scripture say? What is the answer to the ungrateful, maybe hateful, maybe bitter wife who lives in the desolate places? Who lives in the barren places? Scripture says the answer is The Lord: "He makes the barren woman abide in the house As a joyful mother of children. Praise the Lord!"(Psalms 113:9 NASB) How? I believe The Lord does it through a grateful heart...the heart that, here again, chooses to see the blessings from her husband and her God!

Day 3 of Thanksgiving ~ Thanksgiving during the Night Watches

Thanksgiving during the Night Watches Psalm 119: 62,148 If you are a mom (especially a young mom), or you have trouble sleeping, then you know how it feels to be awakened several times during the night. It's easy to become bitter about losing sleep, compare yourself to others who *appear* to have gotten more sleep than you did, and to become accustomed to dreading the night time. With our first three babies, I hated being woken up. I did everything I could to ensure that that baby would sleep through the night, as early as possible. If the baby woke up, I got him or her back to sleep as quickly as possible, and with an aggravated sigh of relief, I went back to bed. This was especially true with the first two. I had started to loosen up with the third baby, but I still did not see being woken up, as a good thing. I'm sure a lot of moms can relate to this. It wasn't until I couldn't have any more babies, that I looked back and regretted my attitude toward night wakings. During the five year period, when we couldn't have any more babies, I came across Psalm 119:148: ("My eyes anticipate the night watches, That I may meditate on Your word."). I was grieved that I had missed out on the blessings that God may have had for me when our first three babies were little. The word 'anticipate' really stood out to me. I realized my attitude was completely wrong and selfish and that I had never anticipated the time I could have spent with God and my baby, during the night. I could have snuggled my baby, rocked him or her with joy, prayed, read my bible, meditated on scripture, or just enjoyed the smell of my newborn. I felt God speak to me over and over about this verse, until I longed for another chance for a re-do. When we got that chance and little Quintin was born, everything was different. My whole outlook and attitude was different, and so was the baby. If God had not prepared me with that verse, and changed my attitude, I would not have been able to survive the challenges that Quintin brought. The child would not nurse. The child didn't want any bodily contact aside from bare minimum care. I finally found a tiny bottle with a tiny nipple (my friend recommended I look for one). I pumped for weeks, used that tiny bottle, and slowly got Quintin used to being near me by using skin to skin contact a little at a time, at night. He finally started nursing full time at 5-6 weeks (and somehow I never had to give him formula) and he nursed happily for 16 months. No mom wants the added stress of pumping at night (for the next feeding), plus all of the normal sleep deprivation of a newborn, but I did it, and I look back and can honestly say, I handled it with grace and joy. Yes, I complained a little, and yes it was difficult, but I hung in there. I asked people a lot of questions and I learned from the experience. I'm sure someday I will be able to help someone else. When Quintin finally switched to full-time nursing, I was even more grateful than I was before, because I could nurse him at night and not have to get up to pump. I snuggled him, and rocked him, and I loved being up with him. It was the sweetest time of my life. When Isaiah was born, little did I know, I was in for an opposite challenge. He nursed from the time he came out of the womb :), but he wanted to be as close to anyone as he possible could. I can hardly stand co-sleeping, and I've never really supported it. We don't let our kids in our bed. I've always seen our bed as a sanctuary of rest and relaxation, communion and connection. No kids allowed! But Isaiah challenged me on this for the first 12 weeks and now I'm not so judgmental of couples who allow kids in their beds! I slowly transitioned Isaiah into sleeping in his own bed and he loves his bed, now, but he'd happily sleep with me all night if I let him. Those first 12 weeks were so hard, and I did complain, but I also look back and I know I had a different attitude about it. I remember saying, "He just needs time". Last week, I was up with him 5 times one night, due to teething. In the morning he had his new tooth, and I was tired but there was no bitterness towards being woken up. I've come so far! I would like to blame coffee as the culprit of my changed attitude, as I didn't drink coffee with our first three babies, and maybe it has a little to do with it, but I can honestly say that God changed my perspective. Let this verse soak into your spirit, too: "At midnight I shall rise to give thanks to You Because of Your righteous ordinances."(Psalms 119:62 NASB) God is Lord of the day, and we clearly and purposefully allow him to be. What I'm suggesting to you, is that you allow him to be Lord of your night, too. When you are up at night, learn to make it a productive time, of prayer and thanksgiving. Let it be a joyful time, where you soak in that all-too-fleeting time with your baby. None of us can do this perfectly and I'm not suggesting that I do. I can say, however, that by taking small steps in the right direction and surrendering this to God, he can slowly change your bad attitudes, into thanksgiving! God bless, and by all means, THANK God for the sleep you do get and COFFEE! <3

Day 19 of Thankfulness ~ My Life and How I Came to Be

Day 19: My Life and How I Came into Being I'm so thankful that God chose to give me life! My parents were afraid to have children, due to a rare syndrome called Fraser's syndrome. This caused their first born son, Eric, to be born full term, but lived only moments. He died with his first few breaths. They had no idea, because there just wasn't the same kind of medical technology available 36 years ago, as there is now. Their baby was born severely deformed. You can look at images online of this syndrome. It's SCARY!! And that could have been me!!! The doctors warned my parents not to have anymore children. They decided to use birth control. Five long years passed for them. I'm sure it hurt so badly to want children, but be so afraid to have them. Then God broke through the barrier. God broke through the barrier of perfectly used birth control and through the barrier of their fear. I was conceived and there was even greater fear, I'm sure. But then they beheld my tiny face, and perfectly formed body, when I was born May 24th 1982, at 5:39 pm. And something changed inside both of them. The birth control went in the trash and was never discussed again. They went on to lose many children (mostly early miscarriages, and one late second trimester-almost third trimester- pregnancy with a little girl named Rebekah Jean), but also had two other daughters and then later in life, a son!! Do you realize now, why I LOVE children and will never go on birth control? I saw the faith in my parents to trust God, with their family. I saw them move out of fear, and into trust. I saw them love greatly, each child God gave them. I saw them mourn greatly, each loss. I will see my many brothers and sisters again, someday, in heaven. I will never stop or interfere with any blessing that God will so choose to give us! Do you see now, why my heart ached when my husband wanted and got a vasectomy? Why I almost drowned under anger, bitterness, and a lashing tongue. How I became a wife no one would want? I'm so sorry, James....So sorry. :(. But God is a gracious and forgiving God; teaching and correcting his children. Do you see how God took us on a hike of faith, and the four year journey of waiting for the reversal? God is good!! I am not....but I was delivered from so many things/sins during that journey, that the glory can only go to God. Only God can change a woman like I was....angry, bitter, and mean. Never judge a family by it's cover. I'm sure people assumed that my parents "weren't having any more kids" after the third girl was born. I'm sure people thought "if they try for a boy, it will be a girl, so they might as well stop". This wasn't the case at all. AT ALL!!! They never used birth control after I was born. They wanted many children. That's not what God wanted for them. They walked in what God did want for them, though. They influenced my life in a way, that my heart overflows with gratefulness. With trust. With passion. With love. I'm so thankful that God chose to give me life, and has been so patient when I've royally screwed it up!!!! <3.

My Crazy, Stupid, Eeyore Morning by: Rachelle Phipps

"Good morning Eeyore, " said Pooh. "Good Morning Pooh Bear," said Eeyore, gloomily..."if it is a good morning...which I doubt"

Last night I stayed up pretty late, just enjoying the quiet house and puttering around, doing nothing really. I got to bed at around twelve o'clock and had a pretty restless sleep. At 4:30 am, I got up and talked to James before he went to bed, as he is 16 hours ahead of us. I talked to him for an hour and went back up to bed. My sleep was still restless but I eventually fell asleep. I was dreaming about getting 50 new chickens and forgetting to feed and water them for two weeks. In the dream, I told my mom that I was just so busy that I forgot about them...
I was expecting Sarah to drop her baby off at 7:30 so I could watch him. She showed up and I never heard her come in or come up the stairs. She softly woke me up from my cruel dream about dead chickens, and I woke up with my mouth open, which I hate. James loves it, but I don't. Sarah was laughing at me.
Anyway, so she leaves and then starts my crazy, stupid, Eeyore morning. I feel like Eeyore sometimes when I have mornings where everything spills or I am clumsy and nothing goes right. It is so frustrating.
So, I put Ashton up in the playroom with Zane supervising, while I start breakfast. I get going making Lemon Pancakes and everyone else starts waking up. Abbie is grumpy from the moment she wakes up and I am like, " Oh great, not this again."
So, eventually the kids come down and Ashton is up in the playroom crying, so I get him and put him up in the highchair while I finish the pancakes on the griddle. he starts crying more because he is getting hungry. Meanwhile Abbie is throwing a fit because I will not let her wear her bathingsuit and she can't find anything else to wear, or so she says.
So I get the pancakes done and for some reason everyone is super hungry this morning and it turns out that I have not made enough batter. I end up not getting much for breakfast and tell myself I will get something later. The first pancake I give to Sheldon, I put way too much syrup on it, so I am trying to pour it back into the container from the plate. I get a lot of it back in and decide to use the rest for his next pancake. So, here I am making more pancakes and Sheldon is finished with his first one, as is Zane and Abbie. They are all waiting for the next batch. Ashton is busy and quiet with his , thankfully. I turn around and Sheldon has decided to dump his remaining syrup on top of his head. It is dripping through his hair, and into his eyes. I don't have time to clean it off, so I just leave it. I get everyone served another pancake and get some juice poured for everyone.
Zane and Abbie get finished so I send them both up to get dressed. Abbie never did find something to wear...
There is now syrup all over because Sheldon has rubbed some of it off himself and onto his shirt and the island. It is dried onto him now, so I know he will have to have a bath, to get the sticky off. So, I progress to taking his clothes off and he hits his Apple Juice with his hand and it spills all over him, the island and the floor. By now Ashton is starting to fuss in the highchair.
I put Sheldon in the bathtub and proceed to start major multi-tasking. I get Ashton calmed down, cleaned off and playing quietly, and start loading the dishwasher. I turn off Sheldon's water and give him some toys, and try to go finish my dishes. I ask Zane to go make sure Sheldon hasn't pooped in the bathtub, and that I will be there in a min to wash him. Sure enough he has pooped...that is his nasty little habit right now....so I retrieve the floating poops as best I can, and let the water out. I go to try finish what I was doing and tend to Ashton who is crying again. I warm up some milk and feed that to him, and get him put down for his nap. I find the naked Abbie some clothes while I am up there. Meanwhile Sheldon is crying and cold, waiting in the nasty, poopy bathtub. I finally get down there and clean him and the bathtub up and get him washed and dressed. Ashton is screaming in the bed and Sheldon is following me around signing "milk" with both hands and whining. So I sit down and nurse him (this has got to stop soon, by the way). Ashton is still crying but I am trying to ignore him. Finally, he is asleep and Sheldon is content, so I head back downstairs to tackle my dishes and face the Apple Juice and Syrup disaster, still waiting for me, and finish cleaning the tub out better. I find Ashton's pacifier on the highchair tray and realize I had forgotten to give it to him and didn't realize it. That's why he was screaming in the bed. I finish cleaning up and it is 9:30. I finally get my hair and teeth brushed and my face washed and my own self dressed and put a movie on for the kids, so they will be quieter while Ashton sleeps.
By now I just feel like throwing in the towel and sitting out on the deck for the hour while Ashton sleeps and letting the whole house get ripped apart, but I have too much left to do still. I get laundry started and start picking up the house and getting the kids to help me. It looked like a tornado had gone through it, but I was thankful that the kitchen was clean, at least, considering the disasters that had just occurred there. I did eventually eat a cinnamon roll for the rest of my breakfast.
So, that was my Eeyore morning...I think my hair may have even looked like Eeyore's, as well. I am normally much more organized than this but every now and then an Eeyore Morning, does happen. Some of this should be blamed on not getting up before Sarah came but most of this would have happened otherwise, regardless if I had gotten up earlier.
Ahh, well, that is a day in the life of a stay at home mom, sometimes. I am not thankful for mornings like this but they do show you how much you can get done at one time. I AM thankful for Zane, however. He is always so helpful and doesn't contribute much to making a morning an Eeyore Morning.
Now we are going to the Mud Hole to go swimming, and hopefully no one will drown or attempt to drown!

Seasons

A Change in the Seasons of Life

Today I watched my 7-month old nephew, Ashton. He is just starting to eat a lot of baby food and make big messes in the highchair. As I cleaned his face, hands and the tray I realized that it has been at least two months since Sheldon (who is 16 months) has even been in the highchair. I haven't cleaned the tray forever, either. Sheldon sits at the island with Zane and Abigail, now. He eats bowls of cereal with a spoon by himself. He hardly makes a mess at all. He has also graduated from sippy cup to regular cup. We only use sippy cups in the car, now.

I remember the days when I dreaded cleaning highchair trays, three or more times a day. I remember feeling and complaining to my husband that, that was all I did all day. I had a very small break between each child where we did not use the highchair, but for the most part I have been in the baby season for almost 6 years now! I have known nothing but pregnancy, breast-feeding, diapers, wipes, sippy-cups, messes, diaper bags, more messes and being tired!
I realized today though, that I am out of the baby season! I'm not sad at the realization, though! I'm very excited to hand the torch over to someone else...anyone else. I am ready to enter my next season of life. I don't even know what it will be called, but I am ready for it!
We have a year or so until Sheldon is totally potty-trained, but otherwise the evidence of the baby season is practically gone. He will be weaned from breast-feeding in two short months. The baby time of life is quickly fading! Soon, there will be no more diaper bags to pack with way too many extra diapers and an extra set of clothes for diaper blow-outs in the carseat; no more wiping snotty noses; no more spitting up on clean sheets or on me; no more waking up in the middle of the night to nurse and change an infant. I have actually slept through the night a few times this month. It has been 6 years since I have slept through the night! I count pregnancy because you do not sleep through the night! Unless, you are fortunate and didn't have to go pee all night, or eat during the night, like I did. Maybe some of you are fortunate to have babies who slept through the night, but I never did. Abbie didn't sleep through the night until Sheldon was born. I finally feel rested after 6 years of caring for infants. I am still tired during the day but not so "mentally" tired from giving so much of oneself to helpless infants. It is a welcomed feeling.
All in all, I know I have been blessed with a baby season that has been virtually free of huge medical problems, pregnancy and breastfeeding problems, colicky babies or anything else major. It has been a good season....a very hard one, but good. I have tried to be a selfless mom and I have poured myself into my babies. I didn't always do the right things at the right times. I wasn't always the most most patient mom! I vividly remember telling Zane when he was 3 or 4 months old that "I was going to throw him away" when he woke up for the 4th or 5th time in one night. I remember yelling at him when he was two because he would not eat his peas....he still won't eat them and I have finally accepted this! I remember yelling at Abbie when she was two, for piling every item of freshly folded clothing that she owned into a big pile in the camper. And I still say the d-word about some thing or another during the week. I picked up this bad habit in the camper from the stress of having 3 babies in a 28-foot space. It used to be a daily thing and now it is weekly, so I am getting better!
Anyway, my baby season has been a special time...a worth-while time...a time I will never forget and a time well worth treasuring...but I am actually glad to see it go. In a good way! I am ready to embrace parenthood past two years old...I don't even know what to call it yet. I have made it through the baby season, so I know with the Lord's help I can make it through my next one, and do it better than ever...I hope!
I am pretty happy that I can do things now, that were hard to fit into my schedule before. Just going anywhere in the car used to be this huge, big deal. Now it is getting much easier...unless we have a lot of places to go and then it is downright stressful. Church is nice now since I don't have to lug around the infant carseat, and deal with a squirming, cranky, hungry child. Zane sits through church, while Abbie and Sheldon are in the nursery. Pretty soon, Abbie will be sitting through church, like a big girl, too. I can actually sit through the whole sermon, which is so awesome!
I know some of you reading this are in the middle of your baby season, or you are just starting it. It is hard; very hard. Just keep chugging along and try to make the most of each day. I know from experience that some days there is not even one thing that seems good or goes right that day. Just try to do better each day. You cannot be perfect, so there's no sense getting yourself down about it. Just do better the next day! If you feel like you are in a rut and you keep doing the same bad things over and over, just forget everything else and re-tie those heart strings with your babies and toddlers....read books, play on the floor, whatever. Don't get yourself down; you are human and raising children can be so taxing on whomever shares the majority of time with the children. You have to be self-less. There is no other way around it. If you want good kids, that is. Putting aside self is incredibly hard; especially if you are with the children 24/7 (you Army wife friends of mine)! You do need time alone...but when you are with your children you must be self-less. This is not only for the baby season...even with preschool children, and I am assuming with older ones, this concept is the same!
The good thing about seasons, though, is that they are just that....seasons. They pass and change. They each have good and bad things about them. You just take the good along with the bad and keep going. Some seasons are easier than others, I am assuming...hoping. I have only been through the early marriage season and the baby season, so I am hoping that whatever my next one will be, is easier!
I didn't care about seasons before I was married...I don't even think I knew they existed at that time. I guess it was one big season called "childhood". We all grow up, though, and we realize that there really are seasons in life. The Bible even tells us so in the familiar passage in Ecclesiastes...."There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the sun." Eccl 3:1
Here is a little poem I found recently. I will close with it. It tells you just how special being a mom really is...

Only One Mother
By: George Cooper

Hundreds of stars in the pretty sky,
Hundreds of shells on the shore together,
Hundreds of birds go singing by,
Hundreds of lambs in the sunny weather.

Hundreds of dewdrops to greet the dawn,
Hundreds of bees in the purple clover,
Hundreds of butterflies on the lawn
But only one mother the whole world over.