Mom Connection: Creating Vibrant Relationships in the Midst of Motherhood

Some days, I feel like I stepped on an Amtrak Express train going 100 miles per hour. I zoom past stops, that I really should exit for--basic tasks, such as putting away the laundry in baskets all over the house, sorting through out-of-season clothing, and the like; as well as more relational tasks, such as stopping to go outside and watch my sons climb trees, catch butterflies, ride bikes, or play baseball, or make time for a messy indoor activity, such as finger-painting. The hectic pace of my day just never seems like I can jump from the train to enjoy the little side-stops. I fear I'd get run over by the stuff I'm already behind on and desperately trying to catch up with.

Ever been there?

Tracey Bianchi, author of the new book Mom Connection: Creating Vibrant Relationships in the Midst of Motherhood, has. A busy mom, like us, of three, she understands how packed our days can be, and how detrimental this busyness is to relationships, which she argues are absolutely essential to our well-being. Without them, we wither in isolation, amidst "heaps of poop-stained Onesies," she writes. I received a copy of Mom Connection: Creating Vibrant Relationships in the Midst of Motherhood to review from MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers).



"I want to be the mom who drenches her children with time rather than hurry. The mom whose presence signals rest and peace rather than activity and chores. This is how I want my whole family to be known--a people of rest and grace."  

In Mom Connection,Bianchi shows us how creating the right rhythm to our days affords us the time to create these vital connections with others. Chapters focus on connecting with our spouses, children, extended family, female friends, neighbors and communities--both locally and globally.  Good things take time, she reminds us, but the main premise I took away is that we need to slow down to savor (or start) relationships!

"Task lists do not have to be barriers to relationships; instead they can be the very source of our connections. If I keep telling myself that I'll call a certain friend or forge a special connection once things slow down a bit, the reality is that it may be a very long time before that happens. Perhaps calling that particular person is what it will take to actually slow down!" (page 44). 

Bianchi's writing style is highly-energetic and conversational. You'll feel like you're sitting down with an upbeat friend who has a perky perspective, which will leave you feeling inspired. But I had to laugh when she used the word "spaziness" in a sentence, because it's conversational to our culture, but it isn't technically a word. (Because I worked as a writer and an editor, I tend to read books with an eye to details such as that. I found a few small typos, but that's not her fault, and it doesn't detract from the book as a whole).

However, I should note that reading this book requires some understanding of current pop-culture, otherwise you won't get some of the jokes. For example, Bianchi references Tyra (model Tyra Banks) without explanation (assuming most readers will get it) and "McManus's son." Maybe I've been orbiting in outer space, but I had absolutely no clue what the story of McManus' son was all about (so I googled it, and I'm still lost).

Technical criticism aside (which, again, is geared more to her editor), this is a fabulous book.  It really has me thinking about some simple changes I can make in my life, such as being more willing to ask for help from others (even though it feels scary), buying Popsicles from the store to live an invitational life for friends and neighbors (creating that front porch culture), and mostly, slowing down enough so I can exit gracefully from the train to take time to connect with my kids. Through her book, I think I'm finding a better rhythm to my days. And I'm grateful for it.

MOPS generously sent me a copy to give away to one of you. If you would like to check it out, please leave a comment on this post, and I will pick a name randomly next Tuesday and post the winner. 

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Sugar Ants & Pesky Habits

Sugar ants (technically pavement ants), which are tiny--only about a millimeter in length--decided to check out what kind of yummy morsels they could find on my kitchen counters. The only problem--they're not welcome in my house. Try telling them that.

When I discovered them, I sprayed them with 409 and wiped them away. The rascals (well, new ones) came back. Repeat spray-and-wipe procedure. They repeated their return. My husband put an ant trap on the counter. That helped a little, but more showed up later. This was all starting to really gross me out.

Fast-forward to the next day, lunch-time.

The scene: making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for my kids.
The drama: I thought the counter was clean enough, so I laid the bread right on the counter without a cutting board, and began to spread the peanut butter, then the jelly, on the sandwiches. I put the sandwiches on paper plates and discovered a few tiny little ants crawling on the sandwiches. Yuck, yuck, yuck. Checked the knife I used for the peanut butter. They were on it. Checked the peanut butter. They were in it. More yuck. Threw the peanut butter away.

Decided to investigate where these ants were coming from, and where else they were in my kitchen. Looked in our main food cabinet. Yep. They were not only on the shelves, they were climbing vertically up the sides of the cabinet to reach other shelves. Yuck, yuck, yuck.

At this point, I had a royal freak-out. I started throwing things out of the cabinets, spraying the shelves down, and trying to figure out where the ants were getting in at. (Sometimes spring cleaning is more out of necessity than desire).

I went over to the computer to search for ways to eliminate sugar ants once and for all. Found some helpful tips, but this information only added to my anxiety. Here's how you wipe out and control a sugar ant invasion:

• Keep your counter tops immaculate. Spray with bleach water, or vinegar water after every meal or snack.
• Sweep and mop your floor with either bleach or vinegar water after every meal.
• Apparently, the ants will follow pheromone trails, so the bleach or vinegar will destroy their scent trails.

 Easy advice for a naturally neat person to follow, but for me?

What so overwhelmed me about this was:
1) my kitchen counters are nowhere near immaculate. Getting them spotless in the next fifteen minutes (which was the urgency I felt) caused me to panic, along with questions of how would I ever keep them spotless if I succeeded in getting them spotless in the first place?
2) Mop your floor after every meal? I am lucky if I can mop once a week.

Right then, it felt like all the issues that have been causing some tension for some time (the kids leaving toys on the floor—which I needed to mop NOW, not confining their eating only to the table, etc.) exploded. I had a major rant-and-rave session, which included comments, like, “You all need to help more with chores”, “There is too much for me to do by myself!”, “We have way too many toys!”, “I’m sick of always picking up your toys. I’m just going to start throwing them away” and on and on. At one point, my son said, “Oh no. This is just getting way too serious. We’re still only kids, Mom.” Hilarious!

I realized then, as I have realized in times before, than I fall back on a pattern I was raised with of trying to spur my children to action through using guilt and shame. It’s terrible, I know, but like any bad habit that rears its ugly head, it can be hard to break.

Ironically, while mopping the floor, a Christian radio broadcast was discussing the topic of anger. How do you handle it when it’s gotten out of control and is hurting your family? One woman called in to say that she learned to recognize her triggers and then take appropriate actions to address her stress without losing her composure.

I realized then that the sugar ants were a metaphor for my own spiritual condition. My struggle is how I react when stressed to the max. But for someone else, it may be a different problem. Am I going to keep spraying and wiping the ants I see on the counter each day, or am I going to take the necessary (although difficult) steps to defeat the problem for good?

We can keep spraying and keep wiping (dealing only with the surface problem), but if we don’t target the source, the ants will keep coming back. Sometimes, we’re forced to deal with our “ants.”  The pesticide for eliminating the “ants” we struggle with is repentance, prayer, and walking in the Spirit.

We cannot change any bad habit or sinful pattern of behavior without first recognizing that it is a problem and then confessing our shortcomings and need for help to our Maker and Savior. We pray, as King David prayed in Psalm 51:

"Have mercy on me, O God,
    according to your unfailing love;
according to your great compassion
    blot out my transgressions.
² Wash away all my iniquity
    and cleanse me from my sin.

³ For I know my transgressions,
    and my sin is always before me.
⁴ Against you, you only, have I sinned
    and done what is evil in your sight…

⁷ Cleanse me with hyssop, and I will be clean;
    wash me, and I will be whiter than snow…

¹⁰ Create in me a pure heart, O God,
    and renew a steadfast spirit within me. 

¹¹ Do not cast me from your presence

    or take your Holy Spirit from me.
¹² Restore to me the joy of your salvation
    and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me.

¹⁷ My sacrifice, O God, is a broken spirit;
    a broken and contrite heart
    you, God, will not despise.”

Once we’ve prayed, we walk in the Spirit. Christ’s presence with us will give us everything we need to overcome our sinful temptations and falling back into old patterns of behavior. We need to turn our minds to Him and ask for His mercy and grace.

(By the way, the counters managed to stay pretty clean for a few days—I wouldn’t say spotless, but close! And the ants are not coming back to the same places. I’m still struggling with maintaining the high level of cleanliness required to keep them at bay--it takes a lot of discipline, which can be difficult, especially with a sick baby who wants to be held all the time--but I’m growing. I’m growing spiritually, too. I'm grateful that God cares enough about me that He wants me to grow to become more like Him, and He'll help me do it--and you, too!)

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The $10 Mother

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Has anyone ever given you a tip for being a great mother? Not a verbal, “here’s-how-you-do-it” tip, but an actual cash tip?

In my devotional book for mothers, Nancy Campbell shared an encounter that happened to her daughter, Evangeline, while out shopping with her five youngest children.  While in Wal-Mart, a woman—a complete stranger—came up to her and said, “You are an incredible mother! Here’s some money,” and gave her a ten-dollar bill. Then, awhile later, she approached again:  “I’m not finished. You have to know you are an incredible mother! Here’s another $10.”

For a few days, I was pondering what in the world she was doing that was so impressive in this woman’s eyes.  Coincidentally, I downloaded an audio teaching by Evangeline called “The Adventures ofMotherhood.” In the message, she recounted the Wal-Mart experience and shared additional information.

As she was walking down the aisles, she was praying in her mind, asking God, “Am I a good mother, 

Lord?”

Right after that prayer, the woman approached.

 “She didn’t even see me mother! We were just walking,” she said.

But she had to be doing something! Perhaps it was just her countenance and general demeanor toward her children that so impressed the woman.

While no one gave me a $10 tip during my shopping trip yesterday with my children (although a very pregnant mother so kindly offered to let us go ahead of her in the check-out lane—and then insisted we traded places!), I have been contemplating what makes us the kind of mothers others take note of (and may even tip!). Here are some thoughts:
 

• Smile at your children! 
• Act like you enjoy them, even if the feelings aren’t flowing easily at any particular time. Feelings always follow actions. 
• Speak kindly. 
• Handle your children gently. We’ve all seen the mothers who yank their children away from things. Let’s not be “Yankees.”   
• Be proud of your group. 
• Be proud to be a mother! 

As Nancy Campbell writes,

 “When you go out with your children, lift your head high, put a smile on your face, and be proud to be a mother. You have the most important career in the nation. God Himself is your employer and you are determining the future of this nation.

Be a light in the midst of a society that does not embrace children. Do not be intimidated. Show your love for your children as you speak sweetly to them and are patient with them. If God has blessed you with a number of children, be proud to display your ‘blessings’ from the Lord.

You reveal to the world what God is like for He loves children. Jesus did not reject children. He welcomed the children to come to Him. (Mark 9:36-37).

There is no more beautiful picture than to see a serene and happy mother with well-trained children in tow. There can be no argument from those who don’t embrace children.”

A high calling. I’m working on becoming a more serene and happy as a mother every day, and certainly, training our children well is a constant work in progress. That’s why I’m a mom in need of His mercy. I’m so thankful that we can approach the throne of grace with confidence to find mercy and receive grace to help us daily in our time of need. There are eternal rewards. And maybe someday, there will even be a financial reward, like an out-of-the blue tip!

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Lord, Where are My Keys?

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Ten o’clock Sunday morning, and we were ready to head out the door. We were on schedule to arrive 15 minutes early to church—unusual for us, on its own, and even more unusual considering I had singlehandedly gotten four children and myself ready for church. Not just “average-day” ready but looking nice! 

My husband was playing guitar on the praise team for the first time at our church, and I was looking forward to hearing him play.

“Let’s go,” I announced.  “Where are the keys? Who took the keys?”

No answer. Repeated a little more loudly and frantically this time, and the next, and the next… Finally, the culprit confessed (or his brothers confessed for him).

“Where did you go with the keys?” I asked, with increasing inflation in my voice (obviously not as calmly as I would have liked, if I could do it over).

“Outside, in the garage, and downstairs,” he responded.

Lots of ground to cover there.

Out I went to search, while urging the troops to come search with me. I wish I could say I acted like a loving coach motivating them to action, but it was more like a stressed-out mom on a rant about why we have rules that kids do not take keys, why we don’t lose keys, how we won’t be going anywhere until we find the keys, how we’ll probably be missing church and hearing Dad play guitar, and how we spent all that time getting ready and it was all a waste, since someone decided to run off with the keys and lose them.

We looked through the garage. Under and over things and in the minivan. We searched outside, around the house, the patio furniture, in the grass, in the window wells for the basement, and around again (I think I even checked in the mailbox). We searched downstairs. I searched the main floor and upstairs for good measure. No luck anywhere.

We spent the better part of 45 minutes looking. (The “better part” is an interesting phrase, since no part of those 45 minutes were in no way “better” than how I could otherwise be spending them.) I encouraged my son to pray and ask Jesus to help us find the keys. Crying, he said, “I did pray, but He’s not helping me, because I can’t…[out-of-control crying] find…the…keeeeyyyyyys [more out-of-control crying].”

My son was crying so hard that he summoned the attention of a neighbor, who came out to look at why this boy was wailing uncontrollably. Partly it was because he felt sad for losing the keys, but mainly it was because his sensitive spirit couldn’t stand that his mom was upset at what he thought was him, but was really the situation (good luck explaining that to a five-year old).

Finally, I gave up and sent everyone to their room. “If we aren’t going to church,” I said, “you aren’t playing” (in case it was a con to get out of going).

I went outside to read my Bible, reflect, and pray.

Here’s what I was thinking about: 

• Just because I wasn’t spending those hours in church on Sunday morning didn’t mean I couldn’t worship God
• When you don’t get to use your time the way you thought you were going to use your time, how do you respond?
• What was God trying to show me through this?
• If I was upset that we were dressed up and looking nice but with nowhere to go (and no way to get there), is this not pride?
• If I was upset that I had spent my time getting everyone ready, which seemed to be a waste of time, was this not a trivial thing to stew about?

I’m glad that even in my frustration and anger, God gave me the grace to hold my tongue. I wanted to go into a tirade about why they are never, ever to take my keys. The accusation--“because you’re not responsible”--was wanting to leave my lips. But God’s mercy and grace helped me to picture what that would do to my child’s spirit. I remember what it felt like to receive stinging comments as a child.  Luckily, I refrained.

The Lord brought to mind the parable of the woman who searches her house for her lost silver coin. It’s in Luke chapter 15, along with a parable of the shepherd who loses one sheep out of a 100 and searches for it, as well as the parable of the prodigal son.

My sons came up from their time-out, and I read them these parables. We discussed how, even though we had lost our keys, it is more important that our souls are not “lost”, that we find Jesus, and help others find Him, too, and that even someday, if we get “lost” from Him, that we—like the prodigal son—find our way back.

Right at that very moment, my son exclaimed, “Mom! The keys!”

They were sitting on top of the barbecue grill right next to me. I can’t tell you how many times I had looked on and around the grill. It was as though the Lord had blinded my eyes to the keys the whole morning, up until that moment.

Why? I don’t know. Perhaps there would have been an accident on the way to church. Perhaps there was a lesson I needed to learn. Perhaps it was a lesson one of my children needed to learn. Perhaps the story is something someone needs to be encouraged by. I don’t know.

I just know it was ok with God that we weren’t in church that Sunday morning, because He kept us home.

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What's On My Floors Could Be the Death of My Daughter

My three sons have learned a new phrase in the past few weeks:

Choking hazard.

A curious, crawling eight-month old baby loves to find things and put them into her mouth--things that I might miss, that the boys lazily leave lying around. Things like candy wrappers, coins, band-aid peels. Things that could easily cause a baby to choke.

We've had a few incidents.

The first involved the peel from the back of a band-aid. I didn't know one of the boys had gotten a band-aid, unwrapped it, and left the wrappers on the floor. Little Lauren was crawling around the kitchen, and suddenly, I heard her gagging. Nothing puts more panic in the heart of a momma than to see her baby's face turning red as she's gagging and struggling to get air.

I turned her over my leg, thumped on her back several times, and prayed. Fortunately, a few days before, I had asked my husband what you're supposed to do if an infant is choking on something, if turning them over and thumping them on the back doesn't help. He reminded me that you're supposed to look in the mouth and finger sweep the item out if you can see it or feel it.

That's when I could see the band-aid peel stuck far back on the roof of her mouth, going down her esophagus.  I prayed that I could quickly get it out, without pushing it down further.

Doing this on a frantic baby is about as easy as it would be on a cat. It was sight unseen, but it worked. The wrapper came out.

It took all day for my nerves to calm down.

Since then, we've had another scare with another kind of wrapper or piece of construction paper(I can't remember what it was; I only remember the gagging and turning red). Just today, I had to fish a Hershey's kiss foil wrapper out of her mouth.

While extremely scary, these ordeals have been a great kick in the pants for the boys to learn better habits. They cannot be so lazy, for lack of a better word, to just peel something and let the wrapper drop and lay. They cannot take coins out of their piggy banks and leave them on the floor. Everyone must pay super close attention to what is on the floor and remove anything that could be a choking hazard.

As for me, I need to diligently sweep the kitchen and vacuum other rooms, watching closely for little items that may not be a big deal normally but are a huge deal with a baby. 

Looking on the bright side, having a baby can be a huge motivator to step up one's home management.