Oh man. So sorry it's been awhile.
It seems everybody around here has things going on.
Jameson's busy learning how to grab and make those arms work.
Caroline's busy imagining and learning all over the house.
Marc is busy ministering to students in the thick of the semester, and me?
Well, I'm feel like I'm trying to hold it all together and survive!
Between being a worship director for our church and an involved campus minister's wife and a stay-at-home mom, I am feeling a bit stretched thin right now.
When I hit my biggest breaking point about 6 weeks ago, I had to reach out for help. So now, a RUF gal comes and helps me on Monday afternoons, another gal comes Wednesday mornings, another gal helps with cleaning every other week or so. This past weekend, I was SO grateful for a group of RUF gals who babysat for free so Marc and I could have a fun, long date together.
I don't know how I'd be surviving without them! Grace, grace.
I'm beyond thankful for their help.
Because most of the time, I feel like I'm to my eyeballs trying to make it through all that needs to get done.
And then, at the end of the day, does anything really feel all that accomplished??
All that picking up around the house, all that preparing of the meal, all that hustle and bustle to get to school and back...
and the house still looks like a disaster. And it's time to prepare another meal. And it will all start again tomorrow.
Thankfully, I've got a gal who, most of the time, is understanding and pretty helpful. I know most women don't intentionally opt for a bigger spacing between kids like this, but I am LOVING it.
The other day, at the end of a very, VERY long day where I would've won no parent-of-the-year awards, I found this tiny flower laying in the middle of my pillow.
Picked in the yard just for me.
Telling me "it's okay, Mama. I love you. You're my Mama."
I burst into tears. (Well, I must not be doing too bad.)
So I'm learning to give grace to myself.
To let things relax a little around here.
To not let my perfectionism eat me alive.
To tell people what I'm needing from them.
To be okay paying more money than I'd like to for the help,
figuring our mental sanity is worth it.
To do what I can, and be okay when it's not all that great.
To die to my own desires of what I'd like a day to look like.
I suppose this is the way He humbles us, eh?
Simultaneously the happiest and hardest days of my life.