Mind Bombs

I think I’ve developed an allergic reaction to question marks, thanks to my unbelievably inquisitive children. They have completely beaten me down with all their constant questioning about every freaking little thing under, over and beyond the moon. I’m quite certain that I would completely crumble if ever called to the witness stand in court because my brain comes freakily close to blowing into tiny bits after one too many queries. Here are just a few of the mind bombs my little nuggets have dropped on me lately:

** Mama, would it hurt if you almost shot your toe off?
** Mama, can you grow a penis?
** Mama, why do boogers taste so salty?
** Mama, how far can you jump?
** Mama, what was the very first pet?
** Mama, how fast can you drive?
** Mama, how old is God?
** Mama, what’s the latest you’ve ever slept?
** Mama, how many people have Wi-Fi?
** Mama, how big can you smile?
** Mama, who invented lockers?
** Mama, what’s the biggest poop you’ve ever pooped?
** Mama, what’s farther, Heaven or outer space?
** Mama, how do the chickens get into the eggs?
** Mama, why does the dog eat his barf?

Please leave your answers to any and all of these questions in the "comment section" and I will pass them on to my toddler.  I'm much too tired to dream up some creative responses.

Simplifying Life: FOOD 3.0

So, between my pantry, refrigerator, and freezer, I have around 240 food items.  This is the kitchen my kids holler in about having nothing to eat.  Nearly everything in my pantry is processed.  We may not eat enough raw broccoli, but we are getting plenty of soy lecithin and sodium acid pyrophosphate.  Most have at least fourteen ingredients, and there is an excellent chance our blood has turned to straight high fructose corn syrup.

This bothers me.

When I started this FOOD Fast, I thought that removing the items that I'm most addicted to would be enough for me to see a huge difference in the way that I felt about food.  Not having my morning Pepsi and chocolate donut; refraining from an every other day taco run; abstaining from a nightly cocktail would rid my body of the hold that food has had in my life. Doing so, however, has just increased my awareness of every other bad thing that I consume on a daily basis.

I have friends who have transitioned their lives to full vegetarian and vegan lifestyles. These are good friends who I see on a weekly basis and I continually poke fun at their eating habits. You don't eat MEAT? Not even EGGS? Where do you get your protein?? How do you survive without Chick-Fil-A??  You un-American, YOU!  I would now like to recant my ridicule.  I do think there is a method to your madness.  You won't see me giving up my double cheeseburgers cold turkey anytime soon, but I am now comprehending the error of my ways in the food department. Most of what we have eaten, even over the last three weeks so far has been processed, in a can, frozen foods, or something Hamburger Helper related. Chef-Boy-R-Dee is our best bud, yo!  But in my relentless pursuit to view food as "nutrition" instead of a "social event", I am not satisfied anymore with what my family is consuming. All the soda, chocolate, pork, fast food, alcohol (only the tall people, guys. Don't dial CPS just yet!) aside, we are STILL not eating what we should.  This fast has only begun the transformation that I want to make in our eating habits. I'm not wanting to jump off the deep end and go live in an agricultural commune and only consume organic foods from goats, cows, and chickens that make residence in our backyards, but something has got to change. I'm in the process of doing some research and coming up with practical solutions to integrate into our lives.  I've started the book, In Defense of Food and it is starting to revolutionize my ideas about what nutrition means. The gist of the book:  Eat Food.  Not too much.  Mostly plants.

Our grandmas ate local meat and vegetables from their own gardens; we eat PopTarts and Velveeta. Over the course of a few generations, our foods have evolved and what we are left with now is food that has actually made us less healthy and considerably fatter. Four of the top ten causes of death in America today are chronic diseases with well-established links to our industrialized diets: coronary heart disease, diabetes, stroke, and cancer. These health plagues remain rare in countries where people don't eat like we do.

One thought that has really stood out to me was made by Jen Hatmaker in her 7 book:  We get to vote three times a day against this toxic food supply with our forks.

In the spirit of spiritual wisdom gained this week, 1 Corinthians 6:19-20 has weighed heavy on me.

Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your bodies.

I think week three has taught me two main things. One, I can say no to the things that I know are tearing my body down.  I've done that by adhering to the seven food rules I've set up for myself. But beyond that, I have the ability to take it a step farther and choose what I do eat. I don't have to eat out of convenience.  It takes a bit more planning and foresight and research, but each and every thing I put in my body either fuels it or tears it down.  And God has given me the freedom to choose daily how I will honor Him with my body.  The second thing that I've learned is conviction increases with knowledge. When I didn't know any better, just out of pure naivety, I didn't feel convicted about each and every little thing that I ate. The more I know, the more I research, the more I feel convicted about what I put in.  It becomes not just about doing what is healthiest, but doing what I feel is right for me. ( I SAY for me, because just as I don't feel as if living the vegetarian/vegan lifestyle is right for ME, my friends feel as if it is right for THEM.  God convicts everyone's heart differently about different things.)  I feel like I have a responsibility now to my family, to myself, to make better choices.

 James 4:17 says:  So any person who knows what is right to do but does not do it, to him it is sin.

It's about time for me to grow up and start looking at food as another opportunity that I have to make a difference.  If I make better decisions for me, then I can be a good example to others about how to "honor God with my body".  I'd like to be around as long as possible for my family and children in particular. This is another way that I can do that. 

Find out how my Fast From Food Ended 

Here! Simplifying Life: Food Wrap-Up

Re-Writing History

It's been a hard couple of years with my oldest child.  I hate to even write that statement down because some might assume I have favorites, and Mr. Grouchy Pants is not it. I have two amazing boys and they are completely different. I love so many things about each one individually.  I do have to confess that there have been times in these early toddler years that I have LOVED my little Grouch, but didn't like him very much.  I write this down because as I explain this struggle, some very desperate parents out there might be able to relate and find a little hope.

Mr. Grouchy Pants was always that.  Grouchy.  My adorable, stubborn, beautiful little sour puss. Sometimes I feel like he came out with a scowl on his precious face that just never went away. Don't get me wrong, there were moments of cheerfulness and big smiles and plenty of laughter. But he was always a very particular child.  I learned early that things had to go according to plan, or he may just have an emotional meltdown.  I probably fed that fire. Don't we all when it's our first baby?  We hang on their every "goo-goo-gah-gah", we give them what they want or need even before they ask us, we are perfectly content devoting our every waking hour to just sitting and staring at them.  They are new and exciting and they learn that we were put on this earth to entertain them, provide for them, and cater to their every whim. Not that this is a bad thing.  But we teach them what to expect from us.  I think in my case, especially, I became all things to Mr. Grouch and worshipped his sweet little spoiled behind one iota too much.  I didn't think that was possible.  He was my baby, and always would be.

Until I had Mr. Stinky Pants.

Boy did our world come to a screeching halt. Especially for Big Brother. All of the sudden, mommy's attention and focus wasn't solely wrapped up in his every move. He had to compete for the chance to be the one sitting comfortably on Mommy's lap. He went from being "Mommy's Baby" to "Mommy's Big Boy" overnight. And if the title "Big Boy" meant no more crawling into mommy and daddy's bed every morning, no more hour-long story times at night, and no more bedtimes where Mommy rocked him to sleep every night for two hours while humming his favorite lullaby, then "Big Boy" was NOT the new nickname that he wanted.

Things changed in our house, but they also changed for me emotionally.  I felt torn. I didn't realize that going from one child to two would be such a drastic difference. What's one more, I thought. Apparently, one more came with a whole lot of sacrifices. The main one being letting go of the atmosphere of "Grouch-worship" that was so routine to us, and embracing a new life of balance.  I obviously did not handle the transition well.  And neither did Mr. Grouchy Pants.

The next few years were filled with meltdowns, resentment, and bitterness.  The more Grouch acted out due to lack of the attention that he'd grown so accustomed, the more I threw my hands up in surrender and just turned even more attention to Stinker. It was a vicious cycle. One that neither of us knew how to stop from happening.  I was so overwhelmed by the outbursts and negative actions of Grouch that I retreated to Stinker and allowed my husband to tend to our "difficult child".  If I were to be really transparent, I would admit that the moment that Stinker arrived, I began to neglect Grouch in such a way that he was left with emotional scars that we are still trying to fix. However good my intentions or how accidental my behavior was in the two and a half years to follow, it left Grouch with feelings of abandonment and a grudge so deep that it will take God's help to overcome. I've accidentally broken my little one's heart. I'm learning to forgive myself for this so that I can penetrate through his again.  It's a daily process.

Through this whole ordeal, I've learned a lot. I've learned that Mr. Grouchy Pants and I were given each other for a reason. We are in so many ways alike. You see, I had a parent who I could never please. One who made me feel like a constant inconvenience.  One who would only love me if I lived up to his expectations.  I was constantly disowned.  Constantly pleading for love and attention.  Constantly feeling abandoned and alone. Don't think for a minute that this is just a coincidence. Generational sins are a real-life curse. My dad and I currently have no relationship. It breaks my heart everyday.  In the same way that it probably broke my dad's heart for years and years that he had no relationship with his mother. And she had no relationship with her mother. This is something that our family has been struggling with for decades.

And it stops here. 

No matter how long it takes me, or to what lengths I have to go, my son will feel loved.  He may struggle with it.  He may fight me like he does sometimes now when I tackle him in a bear hug and struggle to get free.  He may say mean and hurtful things to me to break my heart the way I have unintentionally broke his. But I won't walk away. I won't take the easy route and play favorites and spend all my time with the "pleasant child".  Mr. Grouchy Pants has a Mr. Happy Pants inside him just waiting to be freed, I just know it. I make it my life mission to find him.  Our routine daily takes turns for the better. I'm learning to balance my emotions and get a tighter grasp on my patience. I'm learning that with kids, taking the "easy route" is almost never the best route.  And most of all, I'm learning to not just love my kids, but to like them as well. They are a product of their history.  The history that I get the pleasure of writing every single day. One day, Mr. Grouch will look back on this history lesson and be thankful that his mom was a soldier; realizing her mistakes but never ever giving up the fight.

Ever Notice How Patient Children Are. . .

Have you ever noticed how patient children are?  How when waiting for something exciting to happen, they clasp their little hands, don't make a sound, don't ask questions, sit calmly and quietly, and exonerate an insurmountable measure of patience and self-restraint. . . . .yea, me either! We must not be referring to MY little monsters! As much as I can tell from my own experience, this "waiting period" for anything from a childhood's perspective is never a time of self-control.  The usual scenario goes a little something like this:

"Mr. Grouch, wait a minute.  I will give you (said snack) as soon as Mommy gets off the phone."

Chaos ensues. First comes the wringing of the hands in violent frustration and the glaring glances. Then comes the over-achieving sighs of annoyance. The dancing in place begins, proceeded directly by groans of "Huuuuurry up, mommyyyyyy!" to which I politely (yea, right) reiterate that I am on the phone and he will need to wait.

Jumping up and down, grabbing my arms and swinging around, sitting at my feet, continuing sighs of dissatisfaction and impatience follow. This goes on until he decides, I should get her attention another way. This is my favorite part. . .

Mr. Grouch starts running circles in the house, leaping off train tables and knocking items off the table. Before I can grab him he's dive-bombing off the couch onto a mountain of pillows in the floor. And he does all of this in absolute silence. . .NOT. (Yes, I just brought that phrase back.)  The squeals and laughs and shouts for attention overwhelm the obviously important phone call that I'm in the middle of. I try to shush him down, but he is persistent on getting me off that phone and onto snack time.  By this time, I am beyond over giving a disrespectful child anything sugar-related.

I can just see the wheels in his little monster brain turning as I walk out of earshot so as to hear the person on the other line. This tactic is not working. . .desperate times call for desperate measures! I'll just have to get this snack myself! He proceeds to the kitchen, pushing a dining room chair across the floor and up next to the cabinet. Climbing onto the chair, he then lifts a knee and crawls successfully onto the kitchen cabinet. I just stand there and watch in general frustration.  Let's just see how this goes down.  Opening the cabinet, he finds a cereal box and pries the top open and sticks his little grubby hand in. Grabbing a handful, he pulls it out and stuffs it in his mouth as I hang up the phone and come into the room, my hands on my hips. Realizing that he's been caught, he stumbles back onto the chair, it tipping to the side, spilling the rest of the cereal box onto the floor where the dog generously devours each and every little piece.

Mr. Grouch looks up at my disapproving glare with a mouthful of Fruit Loops and eyes of shame. And just as I'm about to tear into him for being impatient and over-anxious and disobedient, it hits me like a ton of bricks just how much like his mother he truly is. He's a child. Waiting for something that seems so far away, yet just out of his grasp.

This is me lately. Guilty eyes with a mouthful of Fruit Loops, apologizing repeatedly for taking matters (of God's) into my own hands because I'm just too anxious to wait any longer for Him to come through.

Waiting is brutal.  Whether you are a child or just a child in the eyes of God who has repeatedly told you to Wait patiently. All things will come together at the proper time. Don't we always assume that NOW is the proper time and that God is just dragging His all-knowing feet. Lately, we have been asking God for many signs and plans to come together that will dictate the future of our family. Open doors, supply resources, orchestrate divine intervention in our lives. . .shine Your light on the next step of our journey! I'm ready for my dang SNACK already!

I'm starting to get it, as I pick Mr. Grouch up off the floor and let him know that he should have waited on me to get his snack.  Explaining to someone who doesn't see the future, doesn't understand the risks of doing it himself instead of waiting on my experience. He doesn't get the fact that waiting is a sign of obedience.  He does, however, now apprehend how easy it is to wreck a situation when you try to take matters into your own hands. Now for kitchen clean-up!

It's amazing how much these crazy little people in our lives can continuously teach us life lessons. It's quite aggravating, actually, I'm not gonna lie. I hate the sinking feeling that I have almost daily when I catch the little bugger doing something that I'm guilty of on a much grander scale. Really clever, God. . . .teach the teacher her own lessons by using her students. Nothing like putting me in my place and reminding me that God still sees me as a little child. But honestly, thank heavens for that! I still have a lot of things to learn, and could regularly use a healthy heap of patience as I constantly try to get God "off the phone" and onto snack time. For now, I'm going to practice clasping my hands in my lap, sit calmly and quietly, and exonerate an insurmountable measure of self-control. . . . .hopefully.

Maybe a few jumping jacks, squeals, and sighs will do the trick too.

Simplifying Life: FOOD 2.0

First and foremost, I have to say that this week has made me realize what a BRAT I truly am. You would think something as small as a simple fast wouldn't have such a dramatic effect. After all, it's not like I've given up food all together! I've just set seven rules in place to create some much-needed healthy limits on my food intake and the rest of it is a "free-for-all". I still have so much freedom, yet I've felt trapped most of the week.  It seems all of the things I crave are the things that I've given up.  Let's recap, for those that have forgotten, exactly what I'm fasting from this month:

*No Fast Food
*No Soda/Pop
*No Alcohol
*No Pork
*No Eating after 7 p.m.
*Only One Grocery Trip a week
*No Chocolate

Which one of them has been the hardest for me to adhere to?  ALL. OF. THEM. Geez, I'm pathetic.

It seems as though I have been living a lifestyle that is way too much "on the go". So much so that I never plan ahead what my family will eat ahead of time, and making the possibility of grabbing something fast food pretty much inevitable. It's been a struggle all week, with trips to the Science Museum around lunch time to mall trips around dinner time. I'm learning that I'm not a planner. I'm a "spontaneous eater" by nature. I graze. A little here, a little there, but hardly ever a little at home. That's been changing as I've learned to schedule our outings a bit after some REALLY late dinners and really cranky kids made me realize that's not acceptable. So, I'm adapting.

Let's talk caffeine. I'm not sure how people do life without it. For years I have suffered through existence with a Big Gulp in the morning to wake me up enough to endure people, and then have refilled throughout the day.  This has been to all of your benefits. I'm really not a nice person without a healthy dose of caffeine running through my veins. I'm still getting my caffeine, but in a bit more creative ways. Since the NO SODA rule, I've been popping Excedrin tablets like their going out of style. Before you deem me a druggie, know that the lack of soda has given me daily headaches and Excedrin (that happens to be chalked full of caffeine) allows me to grin and bare it when I really want to crawl into a corner and cry.  I've also taken my morning coffee to a whole new level. I used to drink it only in the fall/winter. But having a morning java has saved my children from many near-death experiences over the last two weeks. I tell them on a daily basis, "Folgers has saved your lives again."  Not to make myself sound too ridiculously pathetic, I have started drinking water again. You know, the stuff on tap in your OWN homes that's FREE?!  I add a little Mio and Viola!  I'm finding I'm not so dehydrated all the time.  This is something I plan to stick to after this whole fast is over.

Mostly this week I've realized that my slightly reduced life is still extraordinary in every way.  There are so little boundaries and no end to my advantages. For whatever reason, I was born into privilege:  I've never known hunger, poverty, or despair. I have been blessed.  Ridiculously blessed--relationally, emotionally, spiritually, and physically.  My life is so happy, it's almost embarrassing.  And yet I let little things like the fact that I can't run through a drive-thru window or grab a soda obstruct my view on reality. I can't see how blessed I am most days because I'm  not seeing the forest for the trees, so to speak. I've been concentrating too much on the few things that I can't have instead of all the endless things that I do have at my disposal. I have more food (even with all the limitations) in one single day than most of the earth's population see their whole lives. If anything is ridiculous, it's that fact. How many times do we really stop and think about that? If we did, I think it would revolutionize the way we think about food.

My husband and I are desperately trying to afford a mission trip coming up in November. We are saving money and planning on visiting Nicaragua, one of the "third-world-countries" in Central America.  I'm not entirely sure what defines a "third-world-country", but I know it involves a poverty like we cannot fathom in the United States. We see hunger, we see poverty, we see a down slide in our economy. . .But we know nothing about this level of desperation. We want to use what resources that we've been blessed with to go there and bless others. Whether that is with food, relational support, or just old-fashioned care and concern. This fast has opened my eyes to the fact that I don't know much about "need". I'm so looking forward to having my eyes opened in November to what a "need" truly looks like. It's not just a craving for a bit of fast food or a soda. It probably looks a lot more like a mom going to bed hungry so that both of her children have at least a little something in their bellies. My children don't know that feeling. I don't know that feeling.

"Tell me about the world before.  What was it like?"

We didn't even know what was precious.  

We threw away things that people would kill for today."

-The Book of Eli

Want to hear more about my journey of
Simplifying Life: Food, Here's Week THREE!

Five in Ten

I heard about this awesome tip online somewhere and decided to utilize it today. I'm finding that sometimes the project of de-cluttering all the stuff in my life can seem overwhelming. There's so much to do, where in the world do I start?

Five in Ten.

Today I am opening up my closet and picking 5 articles of clothing that I no longer wear or am okay with giving up. I'm not going to take a lot of time deciding upon which articles to pick. I don't want to put more time into this than I need to and allow myself to get emotionally caught up in what I am choosing. I'm choosing 5 things in 10 minutes and throwing them in a goodwill bag and immediately putting it in my car. No looking back. The next time I am out and about, I will drop the bag at the local goodwill center or shelter.

Seems like such a small thing.  But think about doing this once a week for a month.  I will have given away 20 articles of clothing to someone in need and made a miniscule dent in my de-cluttering process.

(I also plan on doing this in my kiddos closets as well. They have more clothing than I do! I seem to let it pile up and pile up because of the emotional attachment that I have to their "itty-bitty-baby-clothes". I've got to learn to let go. Of course, as much as I want to accomplish my little Five in Ten objective in my husband's closet as well. . .that's probably not the best idea. I would like to stay married. So I will let him in on my little project and hope to God that he follows suit.)

Happy De-Cluttering Amigos!

Keep Your Pants On!

I don't know about you, but from the moment the potty-train left the station, it has been nothing but bare butts and one-eyed snake sightings around here! I made the huge mistake of letting my mother have the boys for the weekend only to get them back with an amazing new talent! Or so they think!  Apparently they find nothing more exciting than to drop trou and pee a river in the backyard.  Thank you, Mother. When my oldest was potty-training, he obviously didn't get the memo that this activity was okay for the backyard but not for the front yard. We are unpacking the SUV of groceries one afternoon only to turn around and find Mr. Grouch, pants around his ankles on the front porch, peeing onto the sidewalk. Oh, but it gets better.  I notice he has mastered the one-handed maneuver and is using the other hand to wave persistently at my next door neighbors who had stepped out to grab the mail.  Needless to say, I was mortified! We had a looooooooong talk about how it is inappropriate for ANYONE to see our "winkie". Thus proceeded the questions about this person and that person and whether they are allowed to see his business.  "What about Grandma? She's seen my pee pee. . ."  "Yes, honey, it's okay if they see it if they are taking you to the potty."  What about so-and-so, and what about the person at the bathroom at the zoo, and what about the dog in the neighbors yard.  I had to shut this outside bathroom business down, and quick!

In between Mr. Grouch and Mr. Stink's potty-training segments, the "Backyard Bathroom" remained closed. I thought we were finally past the excitement of it all. Now that Stinker's potty-training adventure is in full-force, we do what any respectable (stupid) American family does and jump into the magical world of raising a puppy. Wonderful timing on my part. And I thought my potty-training days were behind me!  Ms. Pepper Potts (yes, we named our puppy after IronMan's girlfriend) is 7 months old and was rescued from the pound. Like most pound puppies, she learned to go just about anywhere she wanted. As she has made the transition into our home, I thought taking her out every hour would be a breeze.  Out she goes while I wait inside until she's finished. Apparently this was not the case.  She insists on having an audience to her "potty party".  I have to go outside and coax her through the ordeal almost every time. This would be a lot easier if I didn't have toddlers waiting at the back door, wondering why in the world Mommy is insisting that Pepper pee in the grass???!!!  We thought this was forbidden!?!?  I could just see the wheels turning in their little brains.

One day last week, I look out into the backyard where I have let Mr. Stinker and Pepper out to play. One minute they are running around chasing sticks, the next. . .HORROR.  I look out the back door and find Pepper doing her business (#2 to be specific) in the far corner of the yard.  Right next to her I see Stinker, squatted over, knees bent, in a moment of physical intensity as he does his poo business next to his new friend. I. Give. Up.

Of course, there's worse things that my boys could be doing.  So they like "Backyard Bathroom" time.  So I had to pooper-scooper more than dog doo that afternoon. I compromised with my little monsters and relented to letting them go #1 in the backyard only as long as there was no one else around.  They agreed that the grass and leaves make horrible TP so agreed to keep #2 in the house, where it can be properly flushed.  Seems to be a Win/Win resolution.  The things we go through in this motherhood adventure!  I can't wait to see what could possibly be next!