tick-tock

I wake up at 7:10.
I do various activities during the day at specified times.
And go to bed between 11 and 11:30.

My whole day revolves around time.
Most likely, yours does too.

In heaven...in eternity...there is no such thing as time.
If you think about that long enough, it will boggle your mind.

We went to John's grandma's funeral today in Kingsburg. It was a wonderful celebration of Grandma and her amazing life. She lived to be 90! Wow!

Uncle Marv gave a lil talk and brought a clock to illustrate how our very lives revolve around time. Tick-tock, tick-tock. Kinda reminded me of the 2nd Hunger Games book;)

Our lives tick-tock away until we die and then we are no longer bound by the restrictions of time.

Kinda cool. I will no longer have to rush to and fro. Or go to bed on time. There will be no such thing as age or wrinkles. Everyone will be timeless.

If you know that you are going to heaven, then this is a rather comforting thought.

Do you know for certain where you are going when you die?

I do.

I mean, occasionally I have a fleeting doubt because I had a rotten day and think I'm too sinful to go to heaven. But that's the cool part. I actually am too sinful and deserve hell.

But Jesus loved me SO much that He stepped out of eternity and into TIME on earth for the sole purpose of dying on the cross to save me from my sinful self.

And all I have to do is believe in Jesus and follow Him. It's a free gift. There is nothing I can do to earn or deserve it. It is not based on my goodness AT ALL.  So it doesn't matter how rotten{or good} I have been on any particular day.

Some of my boys were behaving particularly rotten in the pews during the funeral service. SO fidgety.

At times poking each other.

At other times with their feet way on the pew in front of us, dangerously close to some lady's hair.

During all this, Grandpa Ron was up front telling a funny story about how he was misbehaving in church and got the paddle from grandma...and never misbehaved in church again.

All this as Twain is writhing on the floor.
I was kinda dying at what people were thinking of us.

But I love these boys. As their mother, you cannot MEASURE how much I love them.


My love for them has no limits. No constraints. This love is a little bit of heaven on earth, independent of the constriction of time. And this is how much Jesus loves you.


So if you think that you are too "bad" to enter a church building...think again. I'm rotten at times and Jesus still loves me.


Or you might be thinking, "Davi, I'm pretty good. But those Christians? They are such hypocrites! I don't want to be around them!"



And I would say, "You are right. We can seem hypocritical at times. We pretend to be perfect. We act like we have our act together. And sometimes we are too prideful to admit our faults...even when we have hurt you".

And I'm truly sorry on behalf of us. I hate when I do that.

But like our Pastor Eric says of our church, "We are just a bunch of messed up people trying our best to glorify God". I love that.

Church is for people who are messed up...sick...a hospital, if you will.

We are not perfect. Sometimes we fail miserably. We are real people, who strive to be more like Jesus.  So if that's what you want, find a church like this!!



John's grandma was truly amazing and was always busy trying to make everyone's life better. She was SO big on food and was always stuffing our faces and sending us home with goodies. And more goodies. And more...

I want to be more like her. Sometimes I forget to offer my guests water. {{{sorry!}}}

The other day, I found these empty containers that John washed and saved.

For the life of me, I will never truly understand this. But Grandma lived through the depression and knew hard times and saved everything. And made tupperware out of cool whip containers. And this is where John gets it from. And even though Grandma is no longer here, she lives on through my husband John. 

annual mother's day pics

All holidays, especially Mother's Day, can be bittersweet for some.

Before I had kids...and when I really wanted kids...it was kind of a sad little reminder of what I wanted but didn't quite have yet. So if that is how you are feeling, I totally get you. And for those who have suffered losses of babies or mamas...my heart is full of compassion for you.

I do not take one second of this day for granted. Regardless of how many tushies I have to wipe.

The following picture is what I most wanted this year. Sometimes my sisters run for the hills when I get out my camera. But I wasn't gonna let them get away with it. Thanks sisters for putting up with this annoying paparazzi.

Love these three so much I cannot even explain. I realized today while cleaning the floor, that God placed me in this family for a reason. They are SO grounded in the Lord and have all the common sense I lack. They are so down-to-earth and genuine...everyone who knows them simply adores them. My family kinda gives me "a look" if I'm acting too ridiculous or lame. They keep me in line.

My amazing incredible mama and her "twerps"! She is one of the highlights of our life.

We all love swinging on the porch swing together.

With sister Jessica's "little women".


Mom takes over with Lindsay's twinsies. Yup, these are mom's babies. You should hear her talk to them.

In fact, we all smother these delicious scrumptious babies to death. They are just too yummy. We can't get enough of them.

Every year my one request is to have pictures with my boys. It's our annual thing. It doesn't matter where we are or what we look like. Just want to document. This time we took them out back, way behind my parent's house.

Sometimes we spontaneously just drop our drawers. nbd(no big deal).


I love these wild boys.


Each one is so special to me.


Twain and Ollie were interviewed by our church nursery. It's always enlightening to see what they really think.

Twain claims I like to "sew every stuff" and thinks "the best thing I cook is mushrooms". Thanks Tweeds, thanks(I just give him uncooked mushrooms). I guess that's as good as it gets 'round here.








Ollie thinks I'm 20(bless his heart) and that I like to put make -up on. What does he think I do? Sit around applying make-up all day??!!!

Ollie certainly appreciates my "red toe stuff". He always did have a thing for my fancy girlfriends.




My sweet-heart Calvin randomly comes up to me every day and gives me a hug when I least expect it.


My little knucklehead, Finny.


We like to hang.


Sunshine Twain.



Not sure how I would mange my unruly crew without this guy. I think I would be locked up in my bathroom, applying make-up all day;)


Lately, John has been tutoring students at night. So my sanity has been stretched to the max and there have been times(ahem last week) I have summoned him via cell with "GET HOME NOW!!". Click.

He got home and sent me to McD's for ice cream. I watched the Voice instead. And it was heavenly.

Thank you honey, for being such a good sport. 

If I could summarize this year of mothering with one word it would be: LOUD

Thank you Jesus for this noisy home that I prayed for, BEFORE I had kids.

What is your one word?

the stand off

The last 2 weeks have felt like a constant standoff with one of our sons(who shall remain nameless).

I'm not ready for this.

It's happening too fast.

And I need to buck up.

Because I haven't been handling it too well, truth be told.

It goes something like this, every day.

Son: "Mom, can I play on your computer right now?"

Me: "Well, no...You need to go play outside for now."

Son: {with major attitude}"But why? I just need it for x, y and z reasons."

Me:{with major attitude right back} "I don't want you on the computer all day!"

Son: {in tears, real tears} "But I'm not on the computer day!"

Me: {in loud voice} "Stop arguing with me all the time!"

Both: STOMP STOMP, as we go our separate ways. 

And he's not even a teenager yet. {{shudder}}

Lookey here. I'm the parent. He's the kid. So why am I acting just like him? He just pushes my buttons so fast with the arguing.

And I let him. And I know better.

One of my all time favorite parenting books is "Don't Make Me Count to Three" by Ginger Plowman. One of her ingenious methods of discipline involves role-playing the right way to do things, rather than just saying "no, don't do that".

And I'm not doing so hot at role modeling here. Instead of calmly teaching him how to handle his disappointments and respecting his mama, I'm doing the exactly opposite.

I'm inadvertently teaching him to get all worked up and sass right back.

As a kid, I was a hard nut to crack. Just ask my mom. I wouldn't easily fess up or repent of my wrong-doings. Darn stubborn pride.

And I would talk-back...a lot.

Don't you love how that comes back years later to bite you in the butt?

I've got a taste of my own medicine and boy is it bitter.

My son reminds me so much of myself as a kid.

It's time to break this cycle.

The other day, when things were calm, I talked rationally with my son about his propensity to argue and how we BOTH needed to work on this together. So when he starts to argue, I just say "Remember what we said about arguing?"

It's helping... it's a start. But we both still have a ways to go.

I was chatting with my neighbor yesterday. He has a stubborn son too and we were comparing notes. When our sons do something wrong, like hurt their siblings, they don't won't own up to it. The excuses and arguing just starts up.

My neighbor says that when this happens, he's like "Get over here NOW. It's you, me and God(see finger pointing action below). Look me in the eye and don't you dare lie to me in front of God."

Love this.

It's so good to have a community of parents around to help you in the trenches. Nobody wants to do this thing alone. So instead of pretending like you have it all figured out...fess up and link up with us. We won't judge. Scout's honor.

Linking up with Capturing Motherhood.



What type of kid were you growing up? Are any of your kids like you?

the place all parents love to hate.

Try not to be insulted if you weren't invited to Twain's raging par-tay.

Consider it an act of mercy on my part that I didn't drag you to Chuck E. Cheese on a friday night.

In true Davi-style we rallied a few neighbor boys at the last minute and headed out.

What were we thinking? It was mobbed. And by the end of the night my eye was twitching. 

But the boys think it's Disneyland. We haven't been to Disneyland since Twain was an infant. So.

There is even a carousel.



Pimped out ride.


But my all time favorite...skee-ball.

Which they now call Alley Roller. Can you believe it? I protest.

You can actually buy your very own skee-ball  here for a small fee of just $5, 286.99. Tempting. Very tempting.

Love this little tush^









This little girl was totally hitting on Twain.

He's like, "I'm outta here." She's like "Please don't go!" Poor girl.

It was REALLY hard trying to keep track of the kids. There was one point where I had no idea where my 4 boys were. They all just took off in different directions.
Calvin^


Twain^

Where is Ollie? OLLIE!!!

Stress. Twitch.

I eventually found him scoring tickets BIG TIME at this dog pound.


Cake could not come soon enough.
It's my absolute favorite cake combo: vanilla cake with lemon frosting.

I know ya'll are super jealous of my mad party skilz.

I was SUPER pumped to give Twain a little present I had scouted on ebay. A little ceramic mouse figurine kinda like the one I got as a girl.

My boys always fight over my little mouse, so I forked over $10 to ebay for this teensy mouse for Twain. I couldn't wait to see the look on his face.

I got my camera ready.

He opened it.

And said "I don't like it".

Wah-wah-wahhh goes the sad trombone. Lil stinker. I was crushed for like 1.2 seconds.

Back in the car he decided he liked it after all. So all is well. Phew.

Finn made Twain a tiny bow and arrow and was giving him a demo.


But Twain couldn't figure it out. Such dejection.

Happy 4th to my tenacious little twerp!

picture me {im}perfectly

Picture Me {Im}perfectly with Hilly of Capturing Motherhood is a weekly project to reveal that we don't have it altogether. Not even close. I love Hilly. She inspires me with her story. And with her honesty.

*******
I was driving home from the reading program yesterday, wracking my brain for imperfections to write about.

"Welp, I can't think of anything today!", I thought.

Insert huge SNORT >>>here<<<. If only I knew what imperfections my evening would bring...

I pull my van into the driveway, and I'm reminded of a DIY project sitting in the garage. It wasn't working out properly and was actually starting to stress me out.

I went inside to ask for John's help but he had no ideas.

Enters my imperfections... my husband slaving away in the kitchen for me, while I'm distracted out back trying to salvage the DIY that has gone severely awry. 

Ho-hum, where is that wife of mine?


And yes, he was feeding us hot dogs.


My poor project. I can't tell you what I'm doing because it's s'posed to be a surprise for someone.

What I can say is this. Sometimes I bomb out on projects. Like I'm totally kicking myself for my stupidity here. I made quite the error of judgement. Like 'hello McFly', it was that air headed. I'll tell you about it later.

While my project was marinating, I decide to peruse the house.

Let's just pretend I'm walking around my house with a video camera, recording life as I see it. The unedited version that you rarely see on this blog.

I have no idea why I thought it would be hard to come up with imperfections.

I was met with disaster at every turn. Here is my junk drawer. Let's just close that back up.

I am no Martha Stewart. This much is obvious.

I walk out back and find an unfinished painting project on the patio.

You must know, I am that parent who hates paint. I know, I know, big party pooper here. Finn actually set this up and was teaching Twain and Ollie to paint. It was quite sweet. Well, for the first 5 minutes, I guess.

But they leave quite the untidy mess. *Note the black paint--this becomes an important piece of evidence in the crime scene later in the night...


Not only is the back becoming untidy, but the front room is quite messy as well. In fact, this is a first for ya'll getting to see my beloved desk in such a state of disarray.


If you look close above the desk, you will notice a roll of toilet paper kleenex on the shelf. Because we are classy like that. Snot anyone?


And to the side of my desk you can see my cricut and sewing machine haphazardly strewn about... And my bulletin board just waiting to be nailed up.


I walk into Ollie and Twain's room and am met with this sight.

I can't even show you the rest of their room, it's that bad.

I walk into Finn and Cal's room... and promptly shut the door and walk right out. Sigh.

In fact the only bed in the house that was made was Finn's...and it still looked like quite the jalopy.

My room...just wow.

In fact every room in the house(except the family room) looks like a bomb hit it.

I am starting to feel very overwhelmed by the the state of my house. I want to crawl in a corner. But I remind myself that it's Tuesday...my crazy day...deep breaths. I can clean this mess later. 

We start dinner. Twain looks at the hot dogs disdainfully...and with his hand extra-animated asks, "why did you make me yucky hot dogs on my birf-day?" And then John has to leave to go tutor. So I turn on The Hobbit, as a coping mechanism. Yes, I like to watch movies while I eat dinner. John is traditional and does NOT.


Ok this part is a little bad....after dinner  I served up left-over cupcakes from the reading program to celebrate Twain's 4th birthday, even pink ones. Don't judge.

We are taking him to Chuck E Cheese, per his request, later in the week to officially celebrate. Twain told John last night, "I can't wait to see what Santa brings me for my birf-day!"

After dinner, the boys are running around like maniacs, and I notice a wooden paint box/kit sitting on my new couch. I kind of hold my breath as Ollie picks it up and says "There is black paint on the coach".

ON MY NEW COUCH.

There are no words to describe how I felt. Only emoji:

There was steam coming out of my ears, of this I'm sure. I feel that life would be better if we all just spoke emoji.

This is where I want to stop the recording of this week's "Picture Me {Im}perfectly" and call it a night. But alas. For the sake of honesty and the true spirit of this post, I will fess up to what happened next.

I kinda sorta totally yelled at the boys and literally threw the box of paints outside onto the ground of the patio.

Two boys started crying...the other two boys must have hearts of stone. Or are immune to crazy-mama-turned-hulk.

I dabbed the couch with a wet wash cloth and tried to get the paint out.


And then it hit me: I totally lost my temper.

Over a couch. A stupid couch.

Now, I do think they were being reckless to leave paint on the couch. And I realize it's understandable to be upset over new stuff getting destroyed.

But it was an accident. My boys weren't being destructive on purpose.

And I felt really bad afterwards. I don't want them to inherit my bad temper. I apologized to them for yelling and throwing the paint. And asked them to forgive me. Which they did...quite readily in fact. Kids are awesome like that...so willing to forgive and eager to look passed any imperfections in their mama. If only I were that eager to do the same for others.

Today at bible study I felt extra convicted.

The speaker(David Arthur) was talking about our relationships. And how they indicate what is going on with our relationship to God. And how we can be jerks. Insensitive.

Ouch.

And how we have idols. Um, do I idolize a clean unblemished couch?

Double ouch.

Ollie skipped his nap today and has interrupted me a million times while I was trying to type this up.

And I'm tempted to get annoyed.

But I'm not going to. He is one of my top priorities...not this post...nor anything else on my agenda for that matter. Life has seemed extra crappy lately because I have allowed myself to say "YES" to too many things...My list-o-things to do seems to get longer every day. And as Hilly shared last week, I always "try to squeeze in just one more thing" before I'm supposed to be at the next place.

And I'm running late and dragging the kids at such a fast pace...it's stressful for them, it's stressful for me.

And it's selfish of me to keep trying to get things crossed off my list at the expense of everyone else. I've reallllly been thinking about that a lot this week and really working hard to just STOP. And get to things on time without sneaking in "just one more thing!". So thanks Hilly!

Linking up with Capturing Motherhood.


p.s. the paint came out of the couch. yay!