2017 in Review

As we come to the end of 2017, I thought I'd share a few highlights from my blog this past year:

Disruptive Children
This was by far the most viewed post on my blog, not only this year, but of all time! It was a little overwhelming to have such a emotional post receive so much attention, especially since after a couple of days I was able to process everything that happened and I wasn't feeling hurt anymore. But I found that this is a subject that many people could identify with, and I really appreciated hearing from so many people who shared encouragement and similar experiences that they have gone though.

Baby Kraken
One of my favourite crafts of the year.

The Power of Words
Sometimes I read through some of my old writing and find it very applicable to my current situation. This is one of those posts, so I thought I'd share it again so you can be encouraged by it too!

I Wish
This is one of my favourite poems from this past year. One of the struggles of being a very sensitive person is that I see when others are struggling, and I want to help somehow, but I also want to respect their space and don't want to say the wrong thing. Far too often I second guess myself for too long and lose the opportunity.

Fear, Your Day is Over
Something that many people don't know about me is how fear used to control so much of my life. I used to lie awake for hours, paralyzed with sheer terror, certain that I was going to die at any moment. Through God's grace that kind of fear is no longer a part of my life, but there are still days when it tries to creep back and gain a hold again. On one such day, this is what I had to say to it.

What are some of your favourite posts from 2017? I'd love to hear from you!

Mommy Moments: I'm Raising a Squirrel

My almost-3-year-old had ripped apart a "shaker" made in Sunday School and was a playing with the beans that were inside. I thought nothing of it until I noticed that he was hiding them one by one in the crack behind the couch cushion.

Me: What are you doing, Steven?

Steven: Mommy, I'm putting the beans away for wintertime.

Me: ...

Me: Steven, we don't put beans in the couch. (Goes to take the beans away from him.)

Steven: I'm putting them away for wintertime! Mommy Mommy no! Go do laundry!

Me: ...

(I take away the beans.)

Steven: Mommy's going to put them away for wintertime!

Merry Christmas 2017

Merry Christmas!

Much love, Leane and family

Isaiah 9:2

The people walking in darkness
walking in depression
walking in anxiety
walking in grief
walking in fear
lost and alone

Have seen a great light
a great hope
a great peace
a great joy
a great love
a Saviour

On those living in the land of deep darkness
the land ravaged by famine
the land torn by war
the land shattered by injustice
the land numbed by affluence
a broken and hurting world

A light has dawned
a hope has dawned
a peace has dawned
a joy has dawned
a love has dawned
God is with us

A Toddler Christmas Tree

I see your Charlie Brown Christmas Tree and raise you a... Toddler Christmas Tree!

This fine specimen has a 100% success rate of staying upright (so far), and entirely unbreakable decorations (if you don't count the lights). The top half of the tree sports several sparkly necklaces from the dress-up box and a nice assortment of Christmas cards and photos, as well as one star ornament. The bottom half of the tree holds two paper chains which are sometimes on the tree, sometimes on the floor, and sometimes being waved wildly around the house. Best of all, I can tell you with pride that this Christmas tree is 74.5% conflict free. The primary source of conflict has been stopping the toddlers from unplugging the lights. There has also been a very small number of arguments between the toddlers regarding whose paper chain is whose.

I had great aspirations of setting up a more tastefully decorated Christmas tree downstairs where my breakable ornaments would be safe, but have not had the time or energy to indulge in such a frivolous desire. Besides, when one has such a fine Toddler Christmas Tree, how could one wish for anything else?

Complaining Again?

I've realized that I complain a lot.

Well, more accurately, I had it pointed out to me.

The first time it was pointed out was sometime in the past by my wonderful husband—or possibly fiancé or boyfriend at the time, I honestly don't remember when it was. All I remember is that I was quite shocked. What did he mean, I complain a lot? That wasn't true... was it? But as I started to watch for it, I realized that he was right. I did complain a lot. So I tried to change. I thought I did a pretty good job.

And then, recently, I was again told that I complain a lot. Again, it caught me off guard, but I had to admit that it was true. I really don't want to be a negative, complaining kind of person, so I figured I should take a step back and try to figure out what is going on.

I thought I'd share what I found.

I can trace a lot of my complaining back to a very simple scenario: someone asks me, "How was your day?"

I'm a stay at home mom of a 15-month-old and an almost-3-year-old. Want to know how my day was? I had to stop the children from standing on the kitchen table at least 15 times today, and Kenneth dumped an entire pitcher of water on the floor, and Steven had a conniption fit because I wouldn't let him unroll the toilet paper all over the bathroom, and they both refused to nap, and at least three toys were broken, and I'm really tired, and the house is a disaster, and I still haven't started making dinner yet. Thanks for asking, how was your day?

And here is where I run into difficulty: what is "being honest", and what is "complaining"? Because if you ask me how I'm doing, I'd rather not just say "good". Especially if I'm not doing "good". So then what do I say?

I don't think it's wrong to talk about our struggles or the challenges that we are facing, but I had to ask myself why it is that I am drawn to talk about all of the negative things first. Because the reality is, there are also good things that happen in my day. Maybe Kenneth learned a new word, or Steven cleaned up a mess without being asked, or I got a text from a friend I haven't seen in a while. Why do I pass those things over in favour of talking about the stressful, challenging parts of my day?

I think one reason is that the challenging things are louder. They demand my attention. Steven might sit and read books nicely for half an hour, but a five minute tantrum will remain in my memory for much longer. Because there are so many challenging things in my day, I need to fight to notice and remember the positive things, and celebrate them.

I also think I'm drawn to talk about the stressful things because I want affirmation. I want people to know how rough my day was, because then they will realize how amazing I am for making it through relatively unscathed. They may even encourage me, and tell me that I'm a good mom and that I'm doing such a great job. If I paint a rosy picture of my day, I won't get that affirmation. At least, that's what it feels like.

It's not wrong to want affirmation and encouragement, but I don't think I should be using negativity as a desperate bid to get affirmation out of people. There has got to be healthier ways! Seeing my tendency to do this makes me realize that I need to build other ways of receiving encouragement into my life, because then I might not feel as driven to complain to get attention. I am also challenged, because I know that the first one I should be seeking affirmation from is God. It is his approval that is the most important. I may know that, but so often my actions show that I have different priorities.

So when someone asks me how I am doing or how my day was, I am trying to stop and give careful thought to my answer. I want to be honest, but be honest about the good as well as the bad. Maybe it was a really hard day, but I can also talk about the blessings that were in it. I want to consider why I choose to respond to people the way that I do. Is it just to get attention and affirmation? Or is it to build up the people around me, and encourage them too?

Mommy Moments: Pretty Lights

Taking Steven for a walk these days primarily consists of explaining to him again and again that "Mommy can't turn on those lights, only the people who live in that house can turn on their Christmas lights."

Mommy Moments: Pep Talk

"Come on! You gave birth to children, you can figure out how to replace an inner tube."

- Me to myself while struggling to fix the stroller's flat tire.

Mommy Moments: Toddler Logic

No, Mommy, it's called "White fish, green fish, green fish, red fish, blue fish".

Mommy Moments: Cookies

A toddler's response when confronted with a pile of partially-eaten cookies:

"Mommy, I can't eat those ones, they don't have any more chocolate chips."

Doctor Who Shawl

It's no surprise that I don't have a lot of time for extra projects these days. "Arts and crafts" projects are especially tricky—if either child is around, they want to know what Mommy is doing, and they want to help! But that doesn't stop me from trying the occasional project, especially when I find a pattern that really makes me think of someone. (Like when I made Toothless and the baby kraken.)

This Doctor Who shawl is another such project, made for a friend of mine. It wasn't too tricky, just time consuming. I think that maybe I should stick to smaller projects until the kids get older!

You can check out the pattern here.

Just getting started, back in June.

And the shawl about to be finished—in October! But you have to admit, it is pretty cool.

Disruptive Children

"Your kids are being very disruptive."

I don't think any parent likes hearing those words, but as the young woman returned haughtily to her seat, I was left reeling. How was I supposed to respond to that? It's not like I didn't know they were being disruptive. That is exactly why we sit up in the balcony at church—so that the boys can move and talk without making too much of a disturbance. This particular Sunday they were especially antsy. All that would stop them from trying to unplug the Christmas lights was running lengths back and forth on the landing at the top of the stairs. I was acutely aware of how noisy they were being, and I was keeping them as quiet as I could.

When that young woman came storming over to me like that, part of me wanted to respond very sarcastically: Thank you, Captain Obvious, I was not aware that my toddler is currently having a meltdown over not being allowed to play with electricity. Thanks for letting me know. But my annoyance was completely overshadowed by my embarrassment and shame. If one person is upset enough to talk to me like that, how many more people are resenting the presence of my rambunctious little family? I felt self-conscious, judged, and unwanted. A social leper. Feverishly, I redoubled my efforts to contain the boys. After Jesse took them to Children's Church, I sat alone, with tears in my eyes. I didn't know how to process what had just happened. I'm still trying to process it.

As the mother of two energetic little boys, I guess it was bound to happen sooner or later. It probably won't be the last time either. But as a recovering people-pleaser who is constantly aware of the emotions of others, it's really hard to know that other people are being bothered by my children. I don't want to be disruptive, I really don't. But I also want my children to be able to live without constantly being shushed and told to sit down. I want them to grow up knowing that they are valued members of the community, just the way they are—not second class citizens until they've had the enthusiasm of youth choked out of them. I also want to be able to continue to live my life, with my kids in it. I want to be able to sit with them in church, and go to events with them, and include them in things. So I guess that means there will be people who find my children disruptive. But I still feel pretty awful about it. I don't like bothering people.

As for the rest of my story, thankfully there were a couple of things that helped me get though the rest of the morning at church. It was a communion service, and one of the pieces that the pianist played during communion was from Handel's Messiah. That made me think of my favourite Aria from the Messiah, "He shall feed his flock":

"He shall feed his flock like a shepherd
And he shall gather the lambs with his arm
And carry them in his bosom
And gently lead those that are with young."

The memory of those words made me want to cry: and gently lead those that are with young. Oh, how us mothers of the young need that gentle hand! Stretched to our limit day after day to care for and raise these little ones who take every drop of love and attention and patience that we can give. By our own standards and the world's we so often fall short. But no matter how many voices of judgment and criticism there may be, our Saviour is gentle with us. And his is the voice that really matters.

After the service I was also able to talk with a friend who had seen the whole exchange. His indignation on my behalf helped me feel a lot better too.