10 ways to reverse a "hard" day.

I'm having to prepare an arsenal for days like this since Kai is now old enough and intuitive enough to sense when I'm having one. 

"Mommy, are you having a hard day today?"

It's what he says when he sees me throw a little tantrum when I can't get the lid on Gracie's cup when I'm in a hurry, or when I take that breath of exasperation as I frantically dig for my keys in the black hole of my purse while holding Gracie and a bag full of groceries with a very full (er, overflowing?) bladder, or when I look at him with sad eyes after giving up on chasing Gracie (again) down to wipe her still-poopy bum after wrestling her down to get the dirty diaper off of her in the first place. 

We all have them. 

Wherever you may find yourself in this beautiful mess of life, the inevitable "terrible, horrible no-good, very bad day" or sometimes "week" shows up. I don't care if you have six kids or no kids, or if you work or stay at home or if you work from home...the "hard day" manifests for all of us in it's own ugly way. 

I don't know about you, but there are moments on these "hard days" when I feel like I have to do something, like RIGHT THIS SECOND to keep me from exploding or crumpling into a ball on the kitchen floor or locking myself in the bathroom with a Costco sized bag of chips. I have to work diligently to change the position of my sails ASAP to avoid a wreck of Titanic proportions. 

I don't have this all down pat--and I certainly don't always gracefully reposition the wind of the "hard day" storm--but every so often, in the midst of a moment where I'm teetering on losing it, I have a break through. And it usually involves doing one of the following:

1. Being silly.

Wrestle and tickle and laugh that tension away. Your shift from pouty to playful will take your people by surprise and serve as an instant mood booster for all involved. Seriously, this works. Do something off-the-wall fun that seems over-the-top. I struggled last night in that pre-dinner but after-school trouble zone and my floors were already toast so I rolled up all of our big area rugs and let the kids go nut-so in the house on their bikes. They even helped me sweep afterward. 

2. Locking myself in the bathroom. Not with chips. 

You guys I don't ever shut the door when I'm in the bathroom. I have pretty much given up on not being interrupted or needed or called upon or ALONE, like, ever. But, every so often, on said "hard days" I will actually shut and lock (gasp!) the door behind me. And do something luxurious like wash my face with warm water without one of my girls sneaking away with my makeup bag or playing with bath toys in the toilet. It's just me and my drippy shower. I breathe and pray and collect myself and maybe even look in the mirror and say some empowering affirmations or something like "NOT TODAY, SATAN!" Yes. This is something that typically helps. 

3. Fresh air.

My go-to for the non-frigid months. Not to say it's not beneficial when it's so cold your lungs burn and your nose and fingers feel like they might fall off. But a walk to the park or around the block to just get out and listen to the birds and watch the squirrels is just what the Dr. ordered. 

4. Misery loves company.

Text a family member or friend who gets it. Don't worry about what they might think--if they are a true friend they will sympathize and maybe even show up to your messy house after your kids have gone to bed to drink wine and cry with you while you watch Parenthood. We are all in this together. Vent, encourage, love each other through it all. 

5. Focus on helping someone else. 

Do that thing for another person that you "never get around to." It can be as simple as calling your Grandma or sending a package to far-away family. Look at your calendar and see who has a birthday coming up and make them something thoughtful. Take your neighbor cookies. Go through your toys or clothes and donate. The act of giving is really allowing yourself to receive--and there is no better time to give than when you feel like all the world does from you is "take." It's' life giving to get your mind off of yourself and pour yourself out. Even when we feel empty, we are not.

6. Exercise.

Activate those post-workout endorphins and get your heart rate up. Maybe this means checking your hoodlums into the gym daycare. Maybe this means throwing them all in the stroller or wagon and heading out on an adventure. It might look like an impromptu yoga session on your living room rug, or maybe even you doing something extreme like dumping a bunch of rice into a tub and letting them go to town so you can do burpees and pushups while you listen to the sound of rice scattering all over your hardwoods. But I guarantee, you will feel a lot less resentful and bitter cleaning that rice-mess up AFTER you have broken a sweat and gotten your heart rate up! 

7. Bake something. 

WITH your kids. Preferably involving chocolate and batter and beaters. It's an instant pick-me-up for you and the kiddos who are stoked to stir. Then deliver to neighbors or firemen or nursing home so you don't eat them all while the kids nap. 

8. Shred the "to-do" list to do a messy creative thing.

Do that crafty project that you have been pining to do but haven't taken the time for yourself to sit down and do! Ignore the laundry and the floors and the dishes. Drag your kids to Michael's or JoAnns or Hobby Lobby and get what you need and get going. Let the kids craft along with you. It's a big chaotic FUN time. 

9. Sing the first uplifting, positive song that comes to mind. At the top of your lungs (that part is key--even if your "key" is very, very off).

My kids have learned many a chorus from me randomly belting them out while I'm struggling through lunch or dishes or toilet cleaning or even a super nasty diaper change. Don't think, just do it. I

10. Take it up with God.

This doesn't have to be a whiny, angry conversation. It actually serves me best when I attempt to be thankful. Gratitude is like a softening agent to a hard, anxious heart. It's amazing what choosing to be thankful can do to an overwhelmed spirit. 

Often times it comes out something like this:

God, thank you for all of this. 

Thank you that my daughters are so painstakingly strong in spirit. 

Thank you that my son is so creative that he wants to build things all over the house. 

Thank you that my husband is gone because that means he is making money. 

Thank you for all of these dirty dishes because that means you gave us food to eat...

Thank you for this chance to chat because if things weren't so chaotic chances are we wouldn't be talking right now...

I know I'm not telling you guys anything you didn't already know. 

I'm simply giving you permission to do the thing that might seem silly or irrational or spontaneous to get yourself out of your rut. 

Pray (plead) aloud. Sing like you mean it. Model for those little eyes that are watching your every move that you CAN, in fact, reverse and find joy in a "hard" day. 

From one person on the verge to another.

Clean up & dance: Embracing your inner "5"

This is Kai and his very best friend in his pre-k class, Lydia:

We have heard loads about how "fun and silly" she is from Kai, and G and I couldn't help but fall in love with her contagious smile and spunky personality--even if it was just in the few minutes we get to interact with her in the drop off/pick up line.

Well, Kai has been telling us for some time how he and Lydia "dance together" in class almost every day. He doesn't always give the most accurate and detailed descriptions, so we haven't really been clear on what context this dancing was occurring in. It's not like we've been worried, just curious. Kai is pretty reserved and neither one of us could picture our timid son "twirling" his sweet little friend around to music.

Well, today I got to witness it with my very own eyes. 

I didn't cry, but I can't say I didn't have to blink back a few tears (duh). 

So, when it's time to pick up after free-play there is a song that is played, and if the students have the room completely cleaned up by the time the song concludes they get to have a "dance party." Well, today, they got to have a "dance party" and I watched as Kai and his Lydia immediately found one another and excitedly grabbed hands. When the "dance party" song came on they twirled and whirled and laughed and smiled and looked into each other's eyes with the most pure, adorable, fun-loving gaze I have ever seen. I could hardly handle it. 

. . .

We can learn a whole lot about relationships from children. 

They don't know how not to be real. 

With enthusiasm, they seek each other out. With eye contact, they engage in smiles and laughter, and without abandon, they dance.

What if our "grown-up" relationships with our spouses, our children, our friends and our family reflected the playful joy and engaging presence that we see in Kai and Lydia? 

There would be presence over presents.

There would be acceptance instead of expectation.

There would be joy instead of apathy.

There would be laughter instead of gossip.

There would be self-confidence instead of self-consciousness.

There would be dancing instead of doubting.

There would be life lived with glorious intention instead of hurried ambition.

So hurry up! Clean up your act before the song is over...

there is a dance party waiting to be had!

"Living a life fully engaged and full of whimsy 

and the kind of things that love does 

is something most people plan to do, 

but along the way they just kind of forget." 

Bob Goff (Love Does)

Happy weekend, friends!

Crying all the tears.

Normal, well-regulated people don't cry actual liquid tears every time they are moved. 

Unless they are 30 weeks pregnant and well, me. Today. 

The kids and I had a great morning spent downtown frolicking in the cool sunshine of Riverfront park and playing with friends at Mobius (the Children's museum).

The waterworks didn't get started when we got home--around 2:00pm. 

Kai and Sunny knew that it was well past Gracie's nap time, and I had prepped them as I put the car in park in our drive way to put their shoes and jackets in the closet and wash their hands while I put Gracie to bed. Well, I got sidetracked with something along the way and when I finally made it to the living room I saw that my sweet Kai had made Gracie a cozy little bed on our rug with with her favorite blankies and buddies and had her all tucked in and was snuggled up next to her singing "Peace" (Numbers 24--our family lullaby). It was too sacred to even snap a picture of. I couldn't even move. All I could do was cry at the sweet, sweet sight of it. 

And then a dear friend from Bible study texted me to see if I was home so she could bring us dinner "just because" she knew i'd been fighting off a mean bear of a sinus infection and of course planning and cooking dinner was literally the very last thing on earth that I wanted to do or even think about and, well, SHE JUST KNEW. So, she dropped a Papa Murphy's pizza and activity book and popcorn off for my kiddos and I managed to hold back my tears until she left but then, well, you know. 

And THEN, you guys, it just HAD to be Kindergarten open house at Kai's school. Not like actual registration or anything, just a simple "open house" for prospective parents to come and check out the room and curriculum and schedule and overall vibe of the school (this was at the private Christian school they have both been attending preschool at). 

I didn't enjoy one single minute of it. 

I sat uncomfortably crammed beneath a kindergarten sized desk and awkwardly wedged into a plastic chair built for a 5-year-old and held my tears back as the sweet little teacher spoke about everything I already knew but was not ready to hear. I sat there and focused on the little baby kicking like crazy in my belly, trying not to remember how it had just been yesterday that I was feeling those same flutters and taps from Kai. I didn't make a scene and even managed to keep it together in the car on the drive home. 

I walked into the house and immediately busied myself with the task of outlining all of our "options" for school next fall and resenting how early this all has to be done. I filled up three whole sheets of notebook paper with all of the different scenarios and options that we have available to us for Kai's kindergarten and Sunny's 4-year old preschool. 

And then I cried a little because there are so many darned options. When we lived in a small town I think I cried a little because there was such a lack of options. But now I was crying because there were too many and the pressure of the decision was overwhelming--even on a rainy Thursday in February, months before the new school year will even begin. 

I took a deep breath and went to clean up dinner while G and the kids continued to play "WrestleMania"on the rug. A few minutes passed until Kai came and sat at the table and I stopped washing and just watched him, sitting there, taking big gulps out of his water glass while watching the rain drops slide down the big window in front of us and that is when the floodgates really opened. 

I'm not ready for him to be gone from me all day...all week long. 

How did this even happen? Why does this have to happen? What kind of cruel world do we live in that forces us to sacrifice our children for seven hours a day once they reach Kindergarten age? When did he get so handsome? Why does he have to grow up? 

ALL THE TEARS OF ALL OF THE LOVING MOTHERS streamed down my cheeks until G had to come into the kitchen to make sure I wasn't going into early labor. 

And as he hugged me he chuckled and said, "Oh babe, you're just pregnant." 

I can't argue with that. Not one bit. But I'm also grieving the growth of my first born that seemed to happen in the blink of an eye. And I'm looking around at my daughters running around the house like wild kittens in pink minnie mouse undies and thinking about how all too soon they will leave me too and how just like that we are going to be empty nesters and OH MY GOODNESS the tears. 

It was over-the-top and highly unnecessary, I'm sure. And I may or may not be a bit out-of-sorts in the hormone department, BUT those tears needed to fall. Necessary or not. I needed this night of pregnant, hormonal, Mommy grief. 

I needed to sneak into Kai's room after he had fallen asleep and just stare at him and push his red waves back off of his smooth, freckled kissed cheeks. I needed to hear that gentle, loving voice in the silence in-between his steady sleeping breaths whisper to my anxious Mama heart, 

"surrender."

And as I feel with each year and week and day and second, his little fingers slowly slip out of my grasp I know that out "there,"  in the unknown and dark places, there are arms wide open--waiting, eager and overjoyed at the anticipation of his embrace. 

He may be my son, but he is a child of God.

So tonight, with tears run dry and a peace that surpasses all understanding, I surrender.

Don’t fret or worry. Instead of worrying, pray. 

Let petitions and praises shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns. Before you know it, a sense of God’s wholeness, everything coming together for good, will come and settle you down. 
It’s wonderful what happens 
when Christ displaces worry at the center of your life. 

(Philippians 4:6-7 (MSG)

And now I'm going to enjoy some pickles and a bowl of cereal since, you know, I'm pregnant, and crying all of the tears certainly takes a lot out of you.

Love of the {EXTRAVAGANT} kind

This post isn't about romance.

It's not about Hallmark cards and chocolates and flowers. 

Shoot, it's not even about Valentine's day. 

But, it's about love.

Extravagant love. 

Contrary to fairy tales and romantic comedy, extravagant love is not about riding off into the sunset on a white horse with your royal princess or knight in shining armor. Extravagant love is quite the opposite, really. It is the kind of love that really COSTS you. It is the selfless love that makes sacrifices and does hard things in the wake of a world that screams otherwise. 

It is a love that you have to fight for. A love that forgives and endures and is patient and kind. 

Last night, G and I celebrated our Valentine's eve by attending a fancy benefit ball for an organization called Beautifully Inspired. 

Beautifully Inspired is an organization that provides support to the Tri-Cities area foster care community. G's sister Beth co-organized the benefit and I had the privilege of putting her family's adoption story into words to be displayed at the event and I think their story worth sharing, especially on a day like today, when so many of us are fighting for a deeper, less material and more "beautifully inspired" kind of love:

Our Adoption Story: McCance Family

I carry a heavy burden for the “plight of the orphan” that has pursued my heart into action and wrecked me.  

When we are faced with staggering statistics of story after story of hurt and hopelessness and despair it is easy to turn a blind eye and list the many reasons why we can’t really do anything to help or make a real difference.

I used to dream about all of the orphans I could save if I won the lottery. 

But then, beneath the weight of this burden God had placed on my heart, I discovered that the “lottery” has actually already been won. 

And it’s Jesus.

Jesus is the ultimate lottery and He will go the distance if we will take those first slow steps in His direction—even if that means walking into the unknown.

This “ultimate lottery” Jesus is not about “all or nothing.” 

He is about taking one step of faith towards opening your home, softening your heart, giving your time and sharing what He has so graciously has given to you. It is in those obedient steps toward that aching need, that call that God has placed in your heart, where HE provides much more than you could have ever imagined—finances, peace, patience, grace, wisdom, help, resources, purpose. 

* * *

We currently have 6 kids in our home that are forever ours. We have two “tummy babies” and four from the heart (adopted from foster care). When we first began foster care, we went from two kids to eight kids within the span of six short months (I had always felt that I would have a large family, just be careful for what you ask for because God certainly has a sense of humor!). At that time, we were both working and living pay check to pay check but when we got the call for our kids, I had NEVER felt more sure of anything in my life. I felt beckoned to quit my job and bring our kids HOME.  When those kids walked through my front door for the first time, I knew them. It’s as if they had always been in my heart and a part of what had once been empty was finally filled.  My babies were finally home and safe.

But this journey has not been easy. In fact, there have been times where the thought of turning away from this call that God has placed on my heart sounded so blissfully easy. I wanted to give my kids the world—I gave them my heart and they stomped on it without hesitation. My oldest daughter spent the first year proving that she wasn’t worth being loved. She didn’t care about being trusted, because she had never been able to trust an adult in her life. Then God showed up, the healing began, and I received a glimpse of how Jesus must feel. Through the pain and hardships and triumphs He has taught me about His patience and grace, His true forgiveness, His unconditional, unfailing love, and His perfect peace. He has taught me to seek joy through the pain and to see the true miracle that our children truly are—beautiful potential just waiting, begging, to thrive! THEY are the true heroes and I am humbled to say that we have been blessed beyond measure.

Our family has been thoughtfully woven together and when I reflect on 

God’s marvelous craftsmanship I am able to see how we fit more perfectly than I could have ever imagined. THIS is the family I dreamed of from before I had even laid eyes on them. Each one of us, intricately stitched together—beautifully imperfect and unfinished. A masterpiece of a journey that is just beginning.

. . .

I think a question that we can all reflect upon, especially today, on this day dedicated to giving gifts to those we love, is how we can not just talk or think or plan to love with this kind of extravagant love--but how to put that kind of love into action.  

I'm not beckoning every dear reader into a life of foster care--but rather into a life of identifying a need around you and not just acknowledging that need, but DOING something about it. Maybe it starts in your neighborhood or at your place of employment. Maybe your kids have friends that need some extra love and grace and hope. Perhaps your parents or grandparents? 

I truly believe that God has us right where we can make a lasting, real impact on another. We just need to see with His eyes and love with His love--which is often not the most comfortable or natural thing to do. But when we give away that kind of love--the extravagant kind of love--we are giving away something that is lasting. Something immeasurable and life giving and so much bigger than ourselves. Something that lasts. 

We don't always know how to help those who God puts in our path or on our hearts. 

We don't have the words to take their pain away 

or the resources to give them everything that they need.

But God has given us the greatest gift of all that we get to give away: 

His love. 

And it comes {extravagantly} wrapped 

in our presence, our time, our generosity & our grace.

Love,