Life really gets away from a person sometimes. Here lately, I feel as if I can't seem to keep my head above water for very long. Between trying to clean house, make meals, go to appointments, take care of a baby, and discipline 2 teen girls, I don't get much done. And most of the time it's my house that doesn't get clean.
Don't get me wrong, I love my husband, my kids and my life overall..but sometimes this mama feels a bit overwhelmed.
My problem is that I compare myself to others. I visit others homes and I see houses cleaner than mine. I watch tv (don't judge me...I'm not the only one who does this) and I compare my house to what I see. I've been watching "Leave It To Beaver" lately and it's very intimidating to watch a woman who's house is always clean and she is always nice to her husband.
I know that I can't expect things to be perfect, but I just want to be a little closer than I am now.
I want to be able to have someone stop by on a whim and not have to feel ashamed of the 2 and a half inches of dust on my shelves and tv stand. And not have so much dirt ground into my carpet that it looks like we need to plant grass. Anyone with me so far? There's gotta be someone out there that feels this same way...deep down inside somewhere.
And then I think about those poems and sayings that talk about how having a perfect looking house is not what's important...it's the time you have as a family. The memories you make together. Maybe it's time that I quit trying to make everything look like June Cleaver's house. After all, that's a staged tv show, and in reality she doesn't ever have to actually clean that house.
It's Christmas time and my favorite time of year. I guess it's time to get on with Christmas and make some magical memories in this family.
Excuse This House
Some houses try to hide the fact
That children shelter there.
Ours boasts of it quite openly,
The signs are every where.
For smears are on the windows,
Little smudges on the doors;
I should apologize I guess
For toys strewn on the floor.
But I sat down with the children
And we played and laughed and read,
And if the doorbell doesn't shine,
Their eyes will shine instead.
For when at times I'm forced to
Choose the one job or the other,
I want to be a housewife...
But first I'll be a mother.
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
Scars
Since we have adopted John, I've spent a lot of time looking back at my life and seeing how God has worked. I could go on and on about the things that He was worked out that we weren't sure would work out. Each time I became a mom again was His perfect timing. Each trial that I went through was a gift from Him. Can you believe I even said that? But it's true.
One I want to focus on is how God worked out John's adoption. Scott and I had tried for somewhere between 8 and 9 years to have a baby of our own. To go even further back, I've had PCOS for as long as I can remember. I was told in High School that I might never be able to have a baby. I was never sure if it was the dr that said that making me think it or if it was God, but I've always felt that wouldn't have my own children. But that never kept me from trying.
I also remember saying that Scott and I had a time limit on our trying. For some reason, even in my early 20's, I would say that Scott and I only had until I was 30 to try for a baby. This used to make Scott frustrated because he didn't feel that we should put a time limit on it. But there was more to it than just selfishness.
My PCOS got worse and worse as time went on, and finally this year Scott and I made a decision that took a lot of faith. I knew deep down that I would not be having my own baby and I kept trying not to try. I kept trying to give it all to God, but I would end up wanting to "try" again.
At the beginning of the year, Scott and I decided that we wanted to ask a dr to let me have a hysterectomy. We saw one dr that told us just to do birth control since we weren't trying anymore. I didn't want that, I wanted it all gone. It was just time. So finally I went to see my normal dr at the clinic and he set it up for me to see the ob/gyn that visits the clinic. Somewhere around the end of April/beginning of May we saw the dr and set the date for my hysterectomy.
I thought I would cry and be upset, but it was amazing how much lighter I felt about it. Not that it was the easiest thing, but I felt so much joy and peace that I couldn't be upset.
About a week after I set my date I got a phone call about a woman who wanted to give her baby up for adoption. We called her and started contact. I wasn't sure that it would work out, but we wanted to go out on faith and see what God could do.
At the end of May, I had my hysterectomy. That day could be a blog post in itself. That's when it got tough for me. Since then, I've had 3 scars on my stomach. They have slowly gotten a little bit lighter, but I think they will always be there. Scott sees them and will sometimes comment that they remind him of the hardest decision he's seen me make. But I'm proud of my scars.
Why?
Because if it wasn't for my scars, and me giving my fertility up to God once and for all, I would not have my baby. So I look at my scars with joy, not resentment. I see my scars the same way a woman with c-section scars sees her scars...as a reminder of the child God has blessed them with.
We all have scars, we all have things we've given up, either because we have to or because we have chosen to. Look at those scars with joy, not resentment, because there is always a purpose for your scars.
One I want to focus on is how God worked out John's adoption. Scott and I had tried for somewhere between 8 and 9 years to have a baby of our own. To go even further back, I've had PCOS for as long as I can remember. I was told in High School that I might never be able to have a baby. I was never sure if it was the dr that said that making me think it or if it was God, but I've always felt that wouldn't have my own children. But that never kept me from trying.
I also remember saying that Scott and I had a time limit on our trying. For some reason, even in my early 20's, I would say that Scott and I only had until I was 30 to try for a baby. This used to make Scott frustrated because he didn't feel that we should put a time limit on it. But there was more to it than just selfishness.
My PCOS got worse and worse as time went on, and finally this year Scott and I made a decision that took a lot of faith. I knew deep down that I would not be having my own baby and I kept trying not to try. I kept trying to give it all to God, but I would end up wanting to "try" again.
At the beginning of the year, Scott and I decided that we wanted to ask a dr to let me have a hysterectomy. We saw one dr that told us just to do birth control since we weren't trying anymore. I didn't want that, I wanted it all gone. It was just time. So finally I went to see my normal dr at the clinic and he set it up for me to see the ob/gyn that visits the clinic. Somewhere around the end of April/beginning of May we saw the dr and set the date for my hysterectomy.
I thought I would cry and be upset, but it was amazing how much lighter I felt about it. Not that it was the easiest thing, but I felt so much joy and peace that I couldn't be upset.
About a week after I set my date I got a phone call about a woman who wanted to give her baby up for adoption. We called her and started contact. I wasn't sure that it would work out, but we wanted to go out on faith and see what God could do.
At the end of May, I had my hysterectomy. That day could be a blog post in itself. That's when it got tough for me. Since then, I've had 3 scars on my stomach. They have slowly gotten a little bit lighter, but I think they will always be there. Scott sees them and will sometimes comment that they remind him of the hardest decision he's seen me make. But I'm proud of my scars.
Why?
Because if it wasn't for my scars, and me giving my fertility up to God once and for all, I would not have my baby. So I look at my scars with joy, not resentment. I see my scars the same way a woman with c-section scars sees her scars...as a reminder of the child God has blessed them with.
We all have scars, we all have things we've given up, either because we have to or because we have chosen to. Look at those scars with joy, not resentment, because there is always a purpose for your scars.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)