Tag Archives: pastor’s wife

Over Achieving Parents

2 Jun

We did it!  We survived the school year and today is the first official day of Summer vacation!  (Insert happy dance here, course, we’ll see how long this excitement lasts, by the end of August I’ll be banging my head on the wall and counting down the days till school starts again.)

We started off the school year with a bang.  I looked in her “red folder” every night and initialed the day’s activities and we did homework.  I’m not the kind of mom that is satisfied with the assignment so of course I added more every day.  Every week I looked in her “Thursday folder” and read all the take home papers and signed and dated it each week.  Her lunches were pack with care and every effort was made to ensure she had something from each food group.  We woke up early every morning so we had plenty of time to walk to school.  We were all smiles, quite the happy little family.

I had a baby in April so school stuff got put on the back burner.  Now, before you check out and call me a bad mom for not placing value in my child’s education, let me tell you she’s in Kindergarten so it’s not like she was missing much.  I think we did homework every other day…maybe, I signed her Thursday folder but the papers got placed in a pile and were recycled without being read.  Forget walking to school.  We were lucky to get her there on time.

Every grading period there was an award ceremony.  She got an award for Reading and Math every 6 weeks but she never received the perfect attendance award, not once.  Her school district allows kids to miss 17 days before they send parents to jail so we took full advantage.  There were kids with perfect attendance for the whole year, seriously!!  Mine missed the first Friday, we didn’t even make it one week before we ruined her shot at perfect attendance.

Perfect attendance has nothing to do with the kids and everything to do with the parents.  I’ve decided kids who have not missed a day of school have over achieving parents.  Most kids would rather stay home so it’s the parents that make them go.  (I guess perfect attendance will increase their chance to get into a good college or something, whatever.)  A kid at school everyday means they went sick at least once; probably the one that made mine sick who then had to miss 2 days till her fever went down, thanks alot!   She missed several days due to Strep throat and also for fun stuff stuff like camping and a hockey game.

Well, it’s summertime now; lets see how this plays out.

Thanks for allowing me to share my world with you…welcome to my brain.

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How He Loves

23 May

So there’s this song that used to make me cry every time I heard it, well not every time but 90% of the time.  (No, it’s not the Christmas Shoe song.  I know this song touches a lot of people, but I guess my heart is a little too cold.)  The first time was years ago when I dropped my daughter off on my way to work.  You see, I had been home with her for 7 months and I was going back to work.  It’s not like I was dropping her off at a day care where she didn’t know anybody; I dropped her off with my mother-in-law, so I knew she was in great hands.  I drove off and this song came on and I cried my eyes out.  I’m not talking cute cry, I’m talking ugly, snot slinging cry.

I felt horrible.  I felt guilty for going back to work, heartbroken that my mother-in-law would spend more time with her than I would, guilty for not enjoying every single second I had with her – let’s be honest, potty training sucks but I was looking back and remembering pee spots with fondness.  I’m a momma and when my “momma guilt” kicks in, it kicks in heavy.

When we decided to leave our very comfortable life (good paying jobs, home, family, insurance) in San Angelo, Tx and move to Austin, Tx (where we had no jobs, no home, no family nor insurance) I would cry even harder whenever I heard the same song.

I wouldn’t cry because it’s sad.  I cried because it’s about God’s beautiful love for us.  I cried because we moved away from family (Brandn’s mom, my mom, my sister-in-law) people I miss dearly.  But because God loves me, He provided friends that became family.  Even though we didn’t have insurance, God provided by keeping us safe and healthy.

The crying has since stopped…until last Sunday that is.  We were at church and the worship team sang it.  I was there with my husband and holding my 5 week old daughter and the tears started again.  Every good and perfect gift is from God and there I was with my latest gift, my baby girl.  I waited a long time for her and shed a lot of “I want a baby” tears in the 6.5 years between the births of my girls.

If I were to step back and look at my life, I would see how God never left my side; even when I didn’t see Him, feel Him or when I turned my back on Him.  His hand has been all over my life and it’s a beautiful reminder of how much He loves me….and you.

Some people find it hard to believe that God loves them.  We project our worldly understanding of love onto Him.  It’s hard to grasp the immense love God has for us because we haven’t experienced that kind of love from people.  When people who are supposed to love us and make us feel safe hurt us it taints our understanding of love.  How can you understand true love when your father was absent, your mother abandoned you, your grandfather did horrible things to you, your step-dad was mean, your spouse abused you?  It doesn’t make sense.

Let me tell you…God loves you.  The Bible says “We love Him because He loved us first.”  He loved us first, that’s it.  Not because of anything we did or will do.  He simply loves us.  He knows every thing that is ugly and true about us.  He knows every unspoken thought.  He doesn’t hold anything against us. It’s an unconditional love and it’s pure and true.

I look at my girls and I love them so much it hurts; there is no possible way I could love them any more.  I think of all the parents who have lost children and it kills me.  I pray all the time for God to protect my girls because if anything ever happened to them I would seriously go crazy.  And then I think God loves me way more than I love my girls and that blows my mind!!  He simply loves me because I’m me.

And He  loves you because you are you.

Get comfy for the next 4 minutes and watch this and let the words sink in.

 

Thanks for allowing me to share my world with you…welcome to my brain.

Superwoman

2 May

Everything to everyone, that is what I’m trying to be. I feel like I need to be the perfect wife and mother.  I feel guilty staying home on maternity leave and I think I need to be earning my keep as a domestic.  No one has put this expectation on me, well, that’s a lie.  I have placed this expectation on myself.  I have the most supportive husband and everyday before he goes off to work he tells me to take a nap and watch 2 movies.  And I’m like, OK Crackhead; I’ll squeeze that in between the dishes, pumping and the laundry.

When our first daughter was born, I overdid it and was back at the doctor’s office within a week.  I’m a slow learner and  I was at the doctor’s office yesterday.  She told me to take it easy; easier said than done.  I think I should be able to do it all despite the fact that I had a baby 17 days ago.

Since Brandn is back at work, I try to get up with Willow every night so he doesn’t have too.  Last night, however, was a different story.  I was up with her for an hour and a half and she was still wide awake.  At that point I let him take over and of course she fell asleep for him.  I also think since I’m home there is no excuse to have dirty dishes or laundry piling up.   My house has no carpet so I’m constantly sweeping; he has threatened to hide all the brooms. This is no joke; dirty floors makes me go crazy.  He was sweeping last night at 9:30 because he knew I would do it today once he left.

I want to be Supermom for Danica.  I don’t want her to feel left out or neglected now that Willow’s here.  I get her up in the morning, fix her hair and lunch and make sure I smother her with kisses before school.  I help her with homework and read to her every night before bed.

To Willow, I have to be everything.  The only 2 things she has mastered are scream till her little face turns purple and poop.  Everything else is up to me till Brandn comes home.

When I go out I don’t want to look like the lady that just had a baby so I make sure my clothes are cute and that I’ve fixed my hair.  Which is interesting because I believe pajamas are perfectly acceptable in public.

Why do I feel the need to prove myself?

I don’ know…I guess I want everyone to think I have it all together.  I normally don’t care what others think of me and I don’t know why it matters now.

Yesterday I realized I’m not Superwoman and it was a hard, emotional day.  Once the tears started they didn’t stop.

The facade stops now.  The truth is I’m a woman that just had a baby and I’m sleep deprived and cranky.  I have sore nipples.  I drink prune juice.  I have unfortunate stitches that are still bleeding and makes it impossible to sit for longer than 15 minutes.  I have dirty floors and I’m self conscious about my weight.

I’m a hot mess and its time to stop hiding it; that takes too much energy and I’m running on a limited supply right now.

 

Thanks for allowing me to share my world with you…welcome to my brain.

 

Shakes and Shadows

7 Feb

I have a love-hate relationship with Wednesday nights. I love that we eat dinner really early and I know by 7:45pm the dishes, homework and showers will be done and D and I will be under the covers snuggling and reading her book. I hate the fact that we eat so early because Brandn heads to church for Worship practice and I don’t see him till the next morning.

Last Wednesday it was just us girls again I and I had a coupon for a free milk-shake from Steak-N-Shake; I got the Red Velvet. Oh…my…goodness. If you are within a 100 mile radius of a Steak-N-Shake you must try it! I borrow this quote from a sweet friend of mine “Oh my god, it will seriously change your life forever.” D got the Chocolate Covered Strawberry shake and when she tried mine she said it was better than hers, to which I replied. “I know, give it back!”

It was silent on the way home. We were too busy inhaling the awesomeness to even bother with talking. All I could think about was how ridiculously delicious this shake was and how could I get it in my belly even faster.

A song came on the radio; I couldn’t even tell you what song it was. I was in such a state of bliss that all I got were a few words: light, shadow and something about overcoming. For some reason those words popped into my head the next day after my sugar coma wore off and I got to thinking…

A shadow is an area where direct light from a light source cannot reach due to obstruction by an object. It occupies all of the space behind an opaque object with light in front of it. That sounded smart. It didn’t come from me; it came from Wikipedia.

We’ve all been in shadows before. Sometimes the object blocking the light is a direct result of a bad decision we made. Sometimes the darkness is caused by someone else’s choices. Sometimes we are walking blindly and don’t even realize we’re in the dark until we run smack dab into the object and get knocked on our butts. The good news is that there is light on the other side the bad news is there usually isn’t a happily carved tunnel through the object which allows us to safely get to the other side. We have to claw our way over or around it and I’m usually kicking and screaming the whole way.

The last 6 months have been hard for me. I lost 2 people I loved dearly, a baby still in my womb and my mother. I was in the dark; depression was blocking my light. I knew the light was there but I couldn’t see it. I was allowing events to steal my joy.

In order to have a shadow; there must be light. That’s the beauty of shadows. No matter how badly it sucks being in the shadow; light is always present and it’s always close. If you’re currently in a shadow, don’t feel bad. No matter how overwhelmed you feel, just rest in knowing that light is right in front of you.

Thanks for allowing me to share my world with you….welcome to my brain.

Big and Little…Let’s do Both!!

27 Dec

Big
This past weekend, my church did it’s annual Christmas Outreach where we load up the trailer and head downtown to the homeless community and hand out backpacks (stuffed with socks, wash rags, bandanas, food, oranges, water, juice, chapstick, bus passes and hand sanitizer) along with breakfast burritos and bottled water. This started 3 years ago with the thought of “This isn’t right and we have to do something.” Each year it had gotten progressively bigger: 38 backpacks the 1st year; 50ish backpacks the 2nd year and 100 backpacks this year!!!! Not only is the number of backpacks increasing, so is the number of volunteers and children that show up to help.

When they told me this year’s goal was 100, my stomach was in knots. You see, I count the money and I knew how much this would cost. I’ll admit it; I didn’t think we could do it. With 3 weeks left we still weren’t even half way there and I was stresses out. Well God proved Himself faithful once again and ALL the money came in…big shocker….why do I doubt? I don’t know.

This was big, this was a church event. I believe that churches should do events like this. Most churches have the resources to hold events; they have volunteers, time and money. Even if your church is small, my church is small so I get that it’s hard, it still should do something. If your church has events, I strongly encourage you to participate and get involved.

Little

After the Outreach, we went back to church and held service. Our praise and worship team did “Little Drummer Boy.” During the song, something hit me. All I know about this boy is he’s little, he’s a drummer, and he’s poor. Even though he’s a boy; he gets it. He gets something that most of us adults – including me, don’t get.

Some lyrics: Little baby…I’m a poor boy too…I have no gift to bring…that’s fit to give our King…I played my drum for Him….I played my best for Him…Then He smiled at me.

This little boy didn’t over complicate it. He didn’t think his song wasn’t good enough. He was fearless. He knew his abilities. He knew what he had and he acted on it. This little boy gave Jesus ALL he had to offer…a song. And then Jesus smiled at him.

I’m not fearless. I find myself looking at a need that is so great I easily get discouraged and think what I can offer isn’t good enough, so I don’t do anything. The lesson to be learned from this little drummer boy is: give what you can.

What can I give? A smile to THAT co-worker. Yes, we all have one and when we see them walking our way, we get up and pretend to be needed elsewhere. ..An extra hug to my husband whose love language is touch. ..An extra 10 minutes to my daughter even though I desperately want to finish mopping my very light colored tile floors after a storm and 2 muddy dogs have run across the entire downstairs…Waiting 5 minute to reply to someone who has just made me mad so my response isn’t ulgy…Being less judgmental because who am I to judge?

Even though I believe we should be involved in the big events, we can’t depend on those alone. There are countless small ways to make a difference and show love. The little drummer boy played a song and Jesus smiled at him. I want my daily actions to cause Jesus to smile at me and honestly, I know a lot of them don’t.

I’m going to work on this in 2014. My New Year’s Resolution is to make Jesus smile. I encourage/challenge you to join me!

Thanks for allowing me to share my world with you…..welcome to my brain.

Eve Hogue – My Mom

20 Dec

Monday, 8:30 pm my phone rings. If you know me, you know my goal bedtime is 8, so when it rang I was annoyed. I didn’t recognize the number so I didn’t pick up. 2 minutes later, my husband’s phone rings…not good.

It’s Robert, my step-dad. My mom is in the ER and she stopped breathing…really not good.

Next phone call; her heart has stopped…horrible.

Next phone call; she’s gone…no words.

I know I can’t play this game but IF I had know that Thanksgiving was the last time I would have seen her, you better believe that weekend would have been different. I would have talked to her more. I would have asked her questions. I would have rolled my eyes less and told her I love her more.

Processing this is hard and to be honest, I’m sure I haven’t processed it completely.

While she was alive I didn’t honor the way I should have so I will honor her in her death.

She was the most generous person I have known and if she could meet a need she would.

When Danica was little, she watched her every Wednesday while we worked.

When we put Danica in preschool, we were having trouble working the tuition in our budget and I asked her for some help with the first month’s payment. She sent a check that would cover the whole year plus some.

One weekend I was on-call and had to work and Brandn was going out of town so I called her last minute and she rearranged her schedule to come and stay with Danica.

She gave her very nice car to someone at her church because they needed it more.

We go to the Women of Faith Conference every year and she usually brought a friend and paid for their ticket and hotel and always left with CDs and books for people.

Most of these examples involve money. She was not rich by any means; she just found joy in blessing others. The Bible says to love others as yourself; I think she figured that one out.

I laugh because when I was in labor with Danica, she was driving me out of my mind and I almost threw her out of the room. She was staring at the monitor and telling me when I was having a contraction…thank you…thank you mom for letting me know because the most excruciating pain I have ever felt in my entire life every couple of minutes was no indication. It saddens me that she will never see Danica grow up. It saddens me even more that the new baby will never know her.

Her Memorial service was packed; standing room only. I think half of San Angelo squeezed into the room.

I don’t care if I sound like a Hallmark card, I’m gonna say it anyway: So many people loved her and the world just lost a very special lady.

Thanks for allowing me to share my world with you…..welcome to my brain.

Lessons Learned From Panties

19 Nov

So I had a conversation with a friend the other day and it left me thinking…

I know 2 sayings regarding panties: “big girl panties” and “panties in a wad.” Let’s reflect on these a moment shall we?

Big girl panties – They’re comfy, they’re pretty, they fit and they’re easy going; you put them on and forget about them.

Panties in a wad – They’re not comfy. Panties cover 2 vital body parts, and if there is a wad in either of those areas, you’re gonna notice; you’ll feel the irritation till you fix them.

Confession. I can get my panties in a wad in a matter of seconds; it doesn’t take much but it can affect my whole day. When I get worked up, I spend the next several hours re-living the situation over and over again. I say things I wish I would have said or things I wouldn’t dare say out loud but I have no problem shouting them in my head.

So, how do I stop this madness? How do I go from wadded up panties to big girl panties? How do I get over it? Answer: the “F” word. (No, not that one! That one’s not nice and gets your mouth washed out with soap and then causes blindness.)

I have to “F”orgive them. I have to take a step back and realize the conversation I’m having with myself isn’t doing anything to them; however, it’s ruining my day. It’s causing me to stay in that frame of mind and that place of yuckiness. I’m a grown woman; you’d think I’d know this by now. You’d think I wouldn’t allow myself to wallow in a hypothetical situation, but I do. I camp there for hours and stay in a bad mood and frustrated. I have to accept that fact that what they said hurt me, but I don’t have to let it upset me. I have to CHOOSE to move beyond this and guess what? That’s when my panties start getting a little more comfy.

What kind of panties are you wearing today? Comfy or wadded? Are you going to a sail through the day never thinking of them again or are you going to allow someone to ruin your comfy panties mood and get them all uncomfortable? The choice is yours my friend, choose wisely.

Thanks for allowing me to share my world with you…welcome to my brain.