Pearl #9

There are mornings, on rare occasions, when I find myself alone in a hot shower. Now, it is not uncommon to have my youngest sliding the shower door open while undressing begging to come in, my middle child complaining about her little sister having eaten all "her" granola cereal, and my oldest begging to have something unacceptable as a breakfast food. Locking the door only produces screams and tiny fingers wiggling under the door jam, so I relent on privacy and the sauna affect from a closed door, and welcome my public inside my morning sanctuary.

Miraculously, call Guinness--this morning, I found myself alone for ten straight minutes showering alone and got lost in my head. This month I have, will, or am, (little bit of denial) turning the big 3-0! Wow! I remember when 30 seemed so old and now here I am knocking on the door, but not with reluctance, I find myself entering with much to be thankful for, and this is where I began to meander while in my shower...

Enter, stage right, my friend John..aka the toilet.

Yes, our master bathroom toilet, a fickle friend whom since we moved in likes to flush twice in a row for no apparent reason, even a plumber consulted was remiss to offer a causative solution. P.S. don't flush it while someone is in the shower, although hilarious effects result when watching someone scream in shock as the water goes cold and then hop around like mad when it turns scalding hot (which I cannot even type without laughingly like mad, sorry to my husband...) it not a nice way to tidy up.

Now this dear friend of whom which we would never think to ask to leave, however disobedient he can sometimes be and disgruntled as I am to clean him each week, is a necessity to our palace--our porcelain throne for which an out house could never replace. Enter my perfect day...

I could hardly believe the day. My house was "perfect," I am not even exaggerating. My house was in order...this almost never happens. Stop by for a surprise visit and you will likely find days and days worth of crumbs under the kitchen table, cheerios trailing through the house, dishes overflowing, Legos in the hallway, glue on the table, naked barbies, and let's not even talk about the bathrooms. Yuck! But that day, all was in order, my girls were fast asleep-warm and bathed, in their beds, and my son and I had sat down to build his LEGO Star Wars battle ship together, just some mommy and son time. Daddy was working late and ER was playing muted in the background. Like I said, nothing glorious, just one of those everyday minutes that you have thousands of and may never even vividly recall the next week.

Before I sat down I made a quick stop to see John for the last time that night. Listened to him flush twice then turned off the light and never looked back. Big mistake...

I sat down on the carpet with my Ben to delve into this 1000+ piece LEGO kit with joy in my heart for the moment. We sat there an hour putting together this ship, shooting missiles, moving parts and all!

"Ben, where are the sticker decals, do you want to put those on?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah! Um, there in my room...oh Dad is going to think this is so cool!"
"Oh yeah, he is!"
And then Ben runs down the hallway and around the corner, then I hear him splash in a puddle.
Then I hear him splash in a puddle. Huh?
"MOM! you better come here!!!"
You know those moments where something happens and everything gets dreamy although not in a rich, sweet, milky way but, in an oh-heck-please don't be what I think it is kind of way. That was this moment.

I turn the hallway corner and just outside my husband's office, is a puddle above the carpet coming from the master bedroom. I traipse into the lagoon to find John taunting me with his unreliability once again, only this time it's not hilarious. I am mad! No furious! Can't anything just stay nice for a day?

For the record I had done a #1, nothing over taxing by any means. Had it been one of my kids, I would have interrogated how much toilet paper had been dumped and which toy they were playing with while on the potty which had "oopsied" inside. Thanking my lucky stars the LEGO kit hadn't taken longer else the destruction path would have also included my husbands computers, servers, etc.

So there I am sucking it up. Enter my husband, exhausted, it's 11:30 pm and he comes home to find me sucking up bucket after bucket of water. He turns immediately back around to Walmart, (thank goodness they are open 24 hours,) to purchase a wet vac and help with the sucky cleanup. Side-by-side we worked at sucking up the mess, and our resentment at John, into the wee-wee hours of the morning. With the last bucket dumped, we laid down to catch 2 hours of sleep before the kids were up at 6...oh joy!

Now I am laying in bed, trying to doze off while 20 fans blow on the carpet to dry it out, and I a flaming mad--mad at the toilet; mad at the quirky plumbing; mad at myself for not hearing the overflow sooner; mad at madness because now I only have two maybe, two and a half precious hours of shut eye and I cannot nod off. Argh! ARRRRRRRRGH!

I'd like to say that this is the part where in my wisdom and maturity I knelt down on my damp carpet and gave thanks for a husband who immediately rolled up his pants and trudged through toilet water side-by-side with me for hours until the job was done, that I praised the cleverness of the invention of a wet vac, that I expressed my gratitude for having a roof and a toilet to overflow. Unfortunately, this is not that moment. It took me a few days...alright weeks...well fine, it really didn't hit me until months later while in my shower this morning.

I thought everything was perfect, and maybe it was for a moment. And then some random act throws me for a loop, leaving me grasping in wonderment why things can't just stay nice. Ah the delusional pursuit of order when you have small children. Such a grand and lofty vision, but ultimately a shallow notion of familial success, (my last cleave unto vanity I suppose.)

Looking back I hit a climax of my expectation that I can handle and control everything, be on top of everything, get everything down, get everything done, have everything cleaned, and everyone happy, and be perfect at everything I do and say and feel and perform. Perfect, perfect, perfect! Not very flexible.

You know, in Florida, there are a lot of palm tress, or rat houses, which ever name you prefer. Whimpy looking things palm trees. Yeah, they're tall alright, but spindly and skinny, not very strong looking. Ever notice how on the news there is always the shot of the palm tree swaying in the gail force category 5 winds. Growing up in a family from the South, I watched my share of hurricanes. While I only went through one in person, (too young to recall it at all,) I watched my share from sunny California, on the news while my grandparents waited up with the newscaster to see it if the storm would avoid Gainesville and West Palm Beach where we still have family. And then breath a sigh of relief when the phones were back up and we got news that although family had lost a house, or the family store was flooded, everyone was alive and kicking. Palm trees blow into the wind, not with it, not snapping in half, but it moves into it, like a graceful dancer as she is swept up in her lover's arms.

My toilet: the hurricane.

Me: need to be that tree.

I can look down on my circumstances--oh why me?! Or I can take the challenge and do something with it that will make me proud. My family's hero! I can make my life fun and exciting by taking the viewpoint that a disadvantage is an opportunity. (My carpets are soooooo clean right now :) And when things get tough, my husband is always right there beside me, helping me suck up the mess--now that is romance at it's best.

There are certain milestones in ones' life that necessitate a pondering of truths, the reflection of what has happened, what can happen, things hoped for, and the blessings that almost seem to good to be real.

Here is where I find myself now: I cannot help but remember the day the geyser toilet from Hell-o! broke-loose-for no glorious reason, and taking my seemed to be perfect day, spiraling it wildly out of control for no good reason. At the time I despaired how it had ruined one of my most successful days as a homemaker. Now, it seems like such a wonderful blessing, one of those moments that is insignificant in event yet so profoundly memorable because of how it changes you...

So, from one 30 year old tree to whoever is not reading this, when all else fails
go with the flow.
My friend John has taught me this much.


-Tara L. Chandler



Come visit our family at

www.chandlercoven.org

Pearl #8

So...I am happy you are doing this I will probably share my babbling thoughts often.

I don't ever have anything profound to say and I am not good words at all or ever making sense.
So here I go on an opifany (sp?) I had the other day.

We go to my moms on sundays for dinner, as I was going about a regular wednesday morning
I thought of sunday dinners at moms and how important it was that my kids go there and
there is a place set for them at this family meal. That they know they have a place in this world
and they belong somewhere to someone. And they get to hear great conversations where over
the dinner table we speak of Christ and share our testimonies of how blessed we are.
Although they are little and my not be listening but hopefully they feel something and know
that sitting at grandma's table, or even at the table of their home with their family they
belong to a family and they have a spot around the table with me.



Brooke, mother of 3

Pearl #7

I thought I'd share some thoughts and experiences with you and your readers, even though I am not a real mom. I tried to be one many times and many ways during my life, and never was so blessed. But on rare occassions, I would dream I had children. Oh, how much I loved those dream babies! How awed I was when I woke up after dreaming of bathing them or some simple thing, and I couldn't believe the degree of love and wonder they evoked. The real thing must be truly incredible.


But I have been blessed to be the "mother" of kitties, and they have given me so much too. In times of stress they show me tranquility. In times of temper they show me the wisdom of silence. Comfort and companionship are never missing when they are near.

Plus they do they do some pretty cute things. My three year old female loves to be wrapped up in a blanket and held like a baby. And after she has her breakfast she goes back to my bed where she sleeps with me at night, and tucks herself back in under the covers for her morning nap. Now what kid does that?

An amazing thing about animals is that they love unconditionally and never betray you. Not many people do that~ So, they are even role models. Best of all, they stay little and you never have to deal with teenagers! I think if I'd been a real mom kitties would have helped me be a better one.

Ranny, mother of 3 kitties

Pearl #6

I have only been a mom for 7 months. I am learning something new everyday and many days I feel like I will never figure it all out. I never knew what mommy guilt was and I had no idea how much I could love a tiny little human. I have so much to learn and very little "pearls" to offer but there is one thing that I have realized over the past 7 months. As moms, we must love, encourage, and accept each other. There is not a "right" way and a "wrong" way to parent. Each of us are doing the absolute best we can for our family and for our babies. I have found that sometimes mommies can be very hard on each other and judge each other for how we parent. But as long as we love those babies with every fiber of our being and do the very best for them, we are honoring the gift that God gave us. Remember to encourage new moms and "seasoned" moms. Remember to offer love, hope, and a listening ear.


Jennifer mother of 1

Pearl #5

Ok so this is kind of embarrassing - but here it goes.  I was out shopping one day and saw a rack of kind of saucy nighties and stuff.  I've always been a tomboy (and a real modest one) and I've never worn anything with lace.  So as I looked over at all the girlly sleepwear, I began to wonder if maybe my husband was kind of sad because I usually slept in old, ratty tee-shirts - not anything flirty or frilly.  I don't know what came over me - but really quickly I walked over to the rack and just grabbed the first nightie I could get my hands on.  I stuffed it down in my cart as deep as it would go so no one would see it.  Of course - murphy's law- the only cashier was a guy!  I just about died.  Well, when I got home I put it in my underwear drawer far in the back under all my big old hanes her way granny panties.  I thought about it throughout the afternoon and wondered if I had the courage to wear it to bed.  By late afternoon I had pretty much come to the conclusion that I'd wasted 15.00 and would have to wrap it in a grocery sack and slip it in the trash right before our next trash day.  Well, that evening my husband and I were sitting around watching t.v. with one of his friends when my mommy radar started to go off.  Just as I started to get up off the couch to check on our 2 year old I heard her let out this evil little giggle and she came racing out of our bedroom, down the hall and into the living room wearing - you guessed it - my stupid nightie!  Don't ask me how - but she had found it and figured out how to put the thing on.  One of her fat little hands clutched the see thru blue polka dotted underwear - giving herself a wedgie. And her other hand held up the see thru top - complete with built in push up bra - over her little baby chest!!!  Um - awkward doesn't even describe the moment!  So here is a little pearl - learned the hard way - to everyone out there.  Don't try to be something you're not - sooner or later - you'll just get exposed!

K, mother of 2

Pearl #4

When my husband and I first got married I quit my job.  I really wanted to be a stay at home mom.  My wish came true when only two weeks after our wedding I got pregnant.  My mom had always said I came from fertile stock and that I'd only have to touch the bed post to get pregnant - I guess she was right!  Anyway, for the first four months of our marriage I walked around with my head in the clouds happy to have a child on the way, a super husband, a new home of my very own... and then I happened to look over my husband's shoulder one night as he was paying the bills online.  What I saw definately brought me back down to earth.  We had $47.00 to live on in our checking account until his next paycheck came 8 days away.  All of my pregnancy hormones boiled to the surface - I completely freaked out.  I said, "We don't have any money!" and he said in a very calm manner, "I know."  I couldn't believe it - I'd never had to live hand to mouth before and we didn't have any savings and with a baby on the way I felt so scared and hopeless.  Well, after I finally calmed down, my husband sat me down and we had a long talk.  He hadn't wanted to tell me that quitting my job, buying a home and living off his income alone had put us in a financial bind.  He said he didn't want to worry me.  I explained that his attempt to keep me out of the loop, while sweet, was not the right thing.  And, then and there, we decided to face our financial woes together.  It was the most amazing feeling.  It was such a freeing feeling to make that decision.  We spent most of the night coming up with a strict budget and taking a truthfull assesment of our debts.  When all was said and done, I couldn't spend more than $45.00 a week on groceries and have only two full tanks of gas each month.  I know that sounds crazy - but it worked.  I stuck to my budget dutifully.  We ate a lot of beans and cheese and eggs.  I walked wherever I could and only ran errands once a week.  It took a lot of planning on my part and a lot of eating leftovers!  We also found things to do together for entertainment that didn't cost money, like taking walks, playing boardgames, making smores in the backyard.  We took our problem and looked at it in a positive way and had fun being poor - we made it a game - a challenge.  A year after our first child was born we had gotten rid of all of our debt (except mortgage).  That was nine years ago and we still live a lot like we did then.  We spend a lot of time playing games and taking walks and working in our yard.  We really think about purchases before we make them and we never, ever buy something we don't have the cash for.  I'm glad we learned that lesson, because our kids are pretty frugal, too.  Our lives are pretty simple and I think that's why we are so happy together.  My pearl: face your problems, its such an empowering feeling and by doing it you teach your kids not to run away from the bad times but to work to turn them around.

Tami, mother of 3

Pearl #3

So some believe a blog site is really just a brag site were you tell the whole bloggin world about how great your life is and how fantastic your children are. However  on my blog I practically do just the opposite. I tell of the weird, wild, wacky and wicked things my children (and occassionally myself) do. Who believes that telling a story about smeared boogers and ugly words is bragging? If I wanted to brag I would post my most perfect meals, the beautiful new fall pumpkins I made, mydaughter's new handmade maiden costume that I spent 3 days on (which looks nothing like how I envisioned it), or how my kids are good eaters, or how they sit perfectly reverent during prayers (yeah right), or how good they are at their chores, or how they are top of their class (oops I think I posted one of those), you get the idea. Anyway my children are still very young and have no clue that I post the naughty things they say and do on the internet for all to read. Regardless I find it amusing that they feel the same desire to share the weird and wacky things I do with others as well. Last week when my husband got home my daughters couldn't wait to tell him about how I forgot my purse when we went to Dairy Queen and had to rob my oldest daughter of her snow cone money to pay the bill. Then last night my parents called and as the conversation was winding down my oldest shouts out she really needs to talk to Grandpa. I say okay and hand her the phone. She states, "Grandpa, guess what?! My mom forgot to pick me and Connor (friend) up at school today and I was about to cry, but then I went to the office and the lady in there made me laugh and she called to remind my mom to come and get me. Can you believe she forgot about me?" Yes, I got distracted sewing that perfect maiden costume. Then my dad wanted to talk to me again to say shame on you.  So, here's my pearl:  what goes around comes around, even when they don't know it. If my kids could have a blog they would probably not brag about me at all either. It would be full of all the ways I have wronged them, how crazy I am and then occassionally they would post a cool mom one. It must be in our nature to want to share with others the crazy days in our lives.

Tess, mother of 4