Making sense

As I came out of the grocery store on Sunday, I found that I couldn’t see a thing. When I had gone into the store, the day was gray, but quiet. Now, just half an hour later, a snow squall had come up, complete with a driving horizontal wind, and I found myself pushing through a wall of wind and white, hoping that all the cars in the parking lot would do what they were supposed to do. Namely, not run into me.

I’m not crazy about driving in snow, but since the storm had just started, I knew I could make the 10-minute drive home before the roads got too bad. That is, if I got behind sensible drivers. Wouldn’t you know it, I got behind a not-so-sensible driver. I certainly have compassion on those who get nervous in snow; after all, I grip the wheel pretty tightly myself. But this driver was practically crawling along the not-yet-icy road. I don’t think we broke 10 mph. Whenever we approached even the slightest of curves, the crawl slowed even further. I didn’t even think that was possible, but clearly it was.

That would have all been fine, but there was one thing I couldn’t figure out. This obviously nervous and stressed-out and overly cautious driver didn’t have any lights on. Here we were in near-zero visibility and no lights. No headlights, no parking lights. Nada.

I didn’t get it. I mean, c’mon, if you’re that worried, wouldn’t you take the normal, sensible precaution of at least turning your lights on so other drivers could see you in this dangerous weather situation?

This is where blogging becomes a problem for me. I came home, mulled over my experience, tried to think of how I could turn this little story into a funny or touching or at least entertaining blog post. Unfortunately, what I discovered was that I am just like that driver in far too many ways.

That driver: Nervous and frightened by the weather but doesn’t have headlights on. Doesn’t make sense.

Me: Get fed up with the size jeans I’m wearing but continue to over-indulge. Doesn’t make sense.

Me: Worry about stuff but neglect the simple yet transforming act of praying about those things. Doesn’t make sense.

Me: Grumble about kid’s misbehavior but do nothing to improve my own discipline consistency. Doesn’t make sense.

I seem to do better or worse in those areas at different times – I don’t always not make sense in every area – but the fact is, I can pride myself on being a very logical, sensible driver but that doesn’t change the fact that I fall short of sensibleness in plenty of other areas.

So, the moral of this story? If you think about things too much, you’re bound to stumble upon areas of your life that need work. Of course, it’s usually worth it to do so, but it can be uncomfortable at the time. You’ve been warned.

Oh, and turn your headlights on.

3 a.m. and who’s up?

The other day, C. was marveling at the wonder that is a full night’s sleep. “You close your eyes, and the next thing you know, it’s morning. It’s like those hours didn’t even exist.”

So true for the millions of people who sleep all night long. But there’s nothing like having a baby in the house to remind you that there’s a whole world out there awake at 3:00 a.m.

L.’s teething, so we’ve had our share of interruptions lately. Nothing that requires rocking or singing or feeding at some ridiculous hour. But enough to wake me up. Which is often enough to then convince me to go downstairs to get a drink or something (true confession: I’ve been known to check my email at 3:00 in the morning – hey, as long as I’m near the laptop, might as well have a peek).

The landing on our stairs has a nice big window that faces our neighbor’s house. And very often, as I’m stumbling up or down the stairs in the middle of the night, I notice that their kitchen light is on. I’m never really surprised. After all, they have a baby, too – he was born in September. I wonder sometimes if he’s not sleeping through the night yet or if he’s sick or if he’s just having a hard time sleeping that night. And I imagine my neighbor stumbling through her house just like I’m stumbling through mine.

Some nights, once I’m downstairs, I look out the front window. Because our neighborhood is on a series of hills, I can see a whole lot of houses when I glance outside. Most of the time, the houses are dark if it’s before 6:00, but every once in a while I’ll spot a house with a light on. Being the curious person that I am, I always wonder: is someone sick? dealing with insomnia? battling heartache and just can’t sleep? waiting up for a child who’s out loooong past curfew? Or maybe there’s a slumber party going on and the mom of the house has just snapped on the lights and said, “If you girls don’t go to sleep right this instant, there’s going to be trouble.”

When I’m coherent, I try to remember to say a prayer for those with lights on, those who aren’t able to enjoy a full night of sleep. And then I crawl back under my covers, bury my head under my pillow, and hope that the next time I wake up, it will be morning.

For the Grammies – picture time

Just a few pictures for the Grammies and other assorted relatives.

L. at 8 months (he’s 8 months old today):


A teething baby chews on every object:


C. enjoyed the fact that we finally got enough snow to cover the ground. He didn’t care that it was already dark last night, he was determined to enjoy the winter weather:

And since Chad was out of town, he wanted to do some shoveling for his dad:

9.4 Things

An issue of Parenting Magazine from last year (yes, I’m a little behind in my magazine reading) stated that a mom thinks about approximately 9.4 things in any given five-minute period. I have no clue where they came up with that handy statistic, but when I first read it, I thought there was no way that was true for me. After all, I consider myself to be a contemplative, introspective kind of gal, one that takes her time thinking through things, examining them, analyzing them. Surely I process one thing at a time for several minutes before moving on to the next. Since I’m such a deep thinker and all.

But then I paid attention to my brain. And now I fear that I far exceed the average of 9.4. While I’m analyzing, contemplating, and introspecting, another part of my brain is manically thinking about a million and one unrelated topics. It must have something to do with the way a woman is wired — it’s why we can talk on the phone, blog, and make dinner at the same time. We’re just able to handle multiple trains of thought at the same time. And it would seem that my brain is a virtual Grand Central Station of random thought processes.

So here, for your amusement (or boredom) is a sampling of 9.4 completely unrelated things I thought about during one of yesterday’s 5-minute stretches:

1. Does an audiobook really count as a book? I mean, I know I’m not supposed to buy any books until March, but an audiobook isn’t an actual book. Okay, yes it is. And no, I won’t buy it. But I want to. I really do.

2. So, seriously, there’s a Play-Doh perfume? Would anyone actually buy this? And then wear it? I wouldn’t. And I can’t think of anyone I know who would. If I really wanted to smell like Play-Doh, it wouldn’t be that hard. I’m pretty sure I’ve smelled like Play-Doh before and I doubt it was very pleasant for those around me.

3. Ah yes, I do enjoy that Bahamavention commercial (the one with Lyle the yeller in it). I don’t know why — all those commercials are kind of silly — but it cracks me up every time. Maybe I need a Bahamavention.

4. Why, why, why is L. throwing up today? No fever, doesn’t seem to be sick. Is it an aversion to the shredded cheese he ate? Is it related to his teething and the fact that he keeps sticking his tongue out until he gags? I don’t know but I want it to stop.

5. Snow delay tomorrow? They’re calling for a couple inches.

6. I should put more cat food in her bowl. She’s going to whine. Every time she so much as glimpses the bottom of the bowl she whines.

7. Only 17 weeks and 1 day left of making formula. Then it’s all milk. No mixing. Woo-hoo!

8. “The itsy-bitsy spider went up the water spout. Down came the rain and washed the spider out.”

9. I need to clean out the pantry. Yeah, maybe next week.

10. How in the world am I ever going to –

Oops, I have to stop there. I can only do 0.4 of that last one. Of course, I think there were more thoughts that flitted through my brain during those five minutes, but I wasn’t able to capture them all to share with you. I’m sure you’re thankful for that.

So anyway – what do you think? How many things do you — whether you’re a mom or not — think about in a typical 5-minute time frame?

WFMW: To-Do List Cheating

Being fairly detail-oriented and more than a little bit compulsive, I’m one of those people who like making lists. Especially pleasing to me is making a to-do list and crossing off each and every item as I go through my day.

But sometimes, I need more cheering than a typical to-do list can offer. In fact, some days, a to-do list is more depressing than motivating. I might be in a motivational slump, or I may be taking care of sick kids (during which, moms know, it is pretty much impossible to get anything else done), or I could just find myself overwhelmed with life and feeling like I will never get anything done.

When I’m in that kind of a funk, I do a little something that I call “To-Do List Cheating.” It’s when I make up a to-do list as I go through the day, but – and here’s the key – I write my tasks down after the fact and immediately cross them off. No accomplishment is too small for after-the-fact to-do lists — any and every little thing that gets finished is fair game.

Here’s what a typical cheating to-do list might look like on a rough day:

* Get a shower
* Eat part of my breakfast
* Successfully use the baby nasal aspirator on L. despite his clear (and very loud) dislike for it
* Get C. on the school bus
* Hold L. in a semi-upright position for 58 minutes so he can get a nap in
* Fix the bed

Now keep in mind, I would write down “get a shower” after I got a shower, and write down “fix the bed” after I already fixed the bed…and then reap the joy of crossing out the tasks right away. The benefits to this system?

No fear of failure.
Since I’ve already accomplished these things, I can write them down without worrying about whether or not they’ll get done. This is particularly helpful when I’m feeling exhausted, insecure, or overwhelmed.

A much-needed reminder.
It’s easy to feel like we “did nothing” at the end of a day, but the truth is, we do tons of little things each day, and it’s okay to take credit for them every once in a while.

It still satisfies my desire to make lists.
And it’s much better than making a list of things that didn’t get done.

Don’t forget to visit Shannon for more Wednesday tips.

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You can also catch me over at Faith Lifts today. Feel free to drop by.