Delayed Obedience

Years ago, my sweet friend LL used a phrase that has stuck with me.  She was explaining a problem she was having getting her daughter to listen and exasperatedly said, "Delayed obedience is disobedience!"  I now incorporate that concept into my own parenting multiple times a day as I snap my fingers at Luke and say "Immediate obedience, Buddy!"  It goes much deeper than the desire not to have to repeat myself, though that's definitely part of it.  My goal in training him to immediately do what I tell him to could very well be the thing that saves his life or keeps him from getting hurt.  It may be what stops him from running out into the street or walking behind a car backing up in the parking lot or tripping into a hole he can't see at the park.  I need him to hear my voice and do what I'm asking him to do at that very moment.  Delayed obedience = disobedience.

But, OH, how it's so very different when the parent-child relationship we're talking about is between God and us, amiright?  And let's be honest, it's not often a matter of life or death...as far as we know, anyway.  

Which brings me to what I want to share - my story of my most recent episode of delayed obedience.  Months ago (and if I'm honest, it was actually months and months ago), God started stirring something in me.  He was calling me to step up and do something big and specific.  It began in church one Sunday morning when the band played the song "Oceans" by Hillsong. 

If you haven't heard the beautiful, moving words, take a moment now to listen...I'll wait. (C'mon...immediate obedience!)  



As I stood there listening, I felt that God was asking me to organize a 5K in our neighborhood (not so crazy) to benefit a charity that fights human/sex trafficking in Atlanta (um, WHAT?!)  I had no direct experience with such an organization, I had no ties to the cause, and I had NO idea where to begin.  It came out of left field, which in my experience is often the first clue to me that it is from the Lord.  So what did I do?  Well naturally, I did the only logical thing I could think of:  I ignored it completely.  

Given the other "noise" and busyness in my life, ignoring it was actually not that difficult to do.  I'd forget about it during the week, but without fail that nudging would return on Sunday morning, especially when I heard that song again.  

"Okay, Lord, you want me to serve?  I'll lead a small group.  That's good enough, right?"  (There.  That should placate him for a while.)

No?   "But Gooooood (in the whiniest of whiney voices like my children use), I'm so busy.  Maybe in another season of life when things get calmer."  (I think I actually heard His audible laughter at the idea of that.)

And the list went on:  I don't wanna.  I can't.  Someone else will.  Later.  What if it flops?  They don't need my help.  What if I mess something up?  This is crazy.  Why me?  And the real mother-of-all reasons behind the others:  I'm SCARED.  

But one of my most favorite characteristics about our God is His patience when it comes to His children.  Unlike me when one of my kids doesn't obey, He never "snapped" or "lost it".  He never called down fire on my head.  When I think about it, He never even made me feel guilty.  He just waited, knowing that I was the one robbing myself of the blessing of obedience.  

As time passed, one part of the song kept echoing in my mind:

Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders

Let me walk upon the waters

Wherever You would call me

Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander

And my faith will be made stronger

In the presence of my Savior

Fast forward to a few weeks ago when I sat in another service at church.  This one was on the book of James and the main point was "Faith without works is dead."  Finally, I heard my "reasons" as the excuses they were.  I could keep ignoring Him or I could (wo)man up and do what God was calling me to do.  

I finally chose to step out of the boat.

The next day I emailed our HOA board.  Two days later, I spent an hour on the phone with a guy in the area that organizes races to figure out what was involved in putting on a 5K.  Less than a week after that call, I put together an official proposal and sent it off to the HOA board to review.  Obedience was in motion, and the weight that was lifted was incredible.  Make no mistake, I waited entirely too long, but fortunately for me, God was willing to wait too. 

So the wheels are in motion.  After talking to the race organizer, I really feel like I need to partner with him to help with the work, at least for this first race.  Perhaps if it becomes an annual tradition I can continue from his blueprint, but there is a ton for me to do even with his assistance.  When Satan's false guilt began to creep in about that and made me doubt whether it's all even worth it given the amount of money it would raise (getting $2,000 from this size/type of event would be considered fantastic), I started struggling.  My husband and a couple of sweet friends spoke encouraging words of confirmation and so I'm pressing on.  Whatever amount raised will be more than they had the day before and God can do incredible things with so much less than we think.  (See 2 fish and 5 loaves story.)

I am sure that there will be multiple moments of doubt in this process, but I pray God will continue to urge me forward regardless.  After all, the extremely freeing part about obeying Him is that you are not responsible for the outcome.  Don't miss that, y'all:  YOU ARE NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE OUTCOME.  Ahhhh, the relief!  

I am working on doing what He asked and I'm going to give it my best.  But the board's approval, the participation, the money raised, even the weather - all of that is on Him.  Of course I want it to go well, but I have this unusual peace in just focusing on my part.  

That being said, I would so appreciate your prayers and support right now as I wait to hear back from the HOA.  If they give me the green light, we'll jump in head-first to get something together by the spring.  I should get an answer in the next couple of weeks, so stay tuned.

In the meantime, I want to close with a word of encouragement:  If there is something - big or small - that God is calling you to do, please do it.  Delayed obedience equals disobedience.  Better late than never holds true for me this time, but I know that's not always the case.  There is such sweet reward in submitting to God.  Great cost and often a lot of work, yes, but y'all, there is such sweet reward.  

The Myth of Balance

I would not categorize myself as a "working mom" (such a misnomer as all moms work their butts off).  My extremely part-time job still allows me to keep Luke at home full-time this year and I do 90% of my work during his nap or after the kids are in bed from the comfort of my own home.  I realize this is a huge blessing and quite a contrast to the set-up most women have.  And let me be clear:  I enjoy what I do, I enjoy having something outside of mom-dom, and I enjoy financially contributing to our income again, however small the amount.

Still, that time has to come from somewhere and, boy, are there days.  They don't come often (but somehow usually coincide with my PMS) but they rear their ugly heads.  Days when I feel like I just can't. catch. my. breath.  Days when the guilt creeps in and I find myself thinking things like, "Brinner/spaghetti/store-bought chicken for dinner again, Heather?" or "Exactly when was the last time you cleaned that bathroom/changed those sheets/mopped that floor?" or "Have you called/texted/email so-and-so recently?  What kind of a daughter/sister/friend are you?" 

I know I am not alone in this nor did those thoughts just begin surfacing with the start of my job.  I don't know of anyone who wears multiple hats that doesn't struggle with this from time to time.

Truth be told, things are going well at the moment and all of the plates are spinning...for now.  But like that post-nasal drip in the back of your throat that signals the cold is coming, I feel like the inevitable ball-dropping is right around the corner (it may even have a name: "the holidays".)  I told David that all it's going to take is one stomach bug or one hard deadline and this precarious situation is going to crumble.  

To better articulate these emotions, I want to share this clip from the movie Mom's Night Out.  It's a very rough cut, so I'm also including a part of the transcript below in case you can't make it through watching all four minutes.  

Ally:  "I failed again. I’ve blown it.  I had a plan…Instead, I can’t.  I can’t get in front of it.  No matter how hard I try, no matter how much I give, I’m just…I'm not enough." 

Bones:  "For who?"

Ally:  "What?"

Bones:  "Not enough for who?"

Ally:  "I mean, Sean, the kids, for my mother, God, everybody.  I don’t know."

Bones:  "You.  Not enough for YOU...."

"...Y’all spend so much time beating yourselves up.  Must be exhausting.  Let me tell you something, girl.  I doubt the Good Lord made a mistake giving your kiddos the mama He did.  So you just be you.  He’ll take care of the rest." 

When I watched that movie and heard her say "I can't get in front of it", I literally burst into tears.  I spend too much time feeling that way or feeling that I'm just enough in front of it that I can feel its breath on my neck and its toes at my heels. 

The good news is that I'm slowly learning to push that feeling away.  I'm learning to tell those thoughts where they can go, because the idea that you can do it all and be it all to all of the people all of the time?  Yeah...no.  Something's gotta give.  The goal of achieving balance in your life?  I think it's total crap.  

I think the trick to balance is just making sure you rotate which thing/person gets the shaft.  Then, and this is big, y'all:  Let yourself off the hook.  Replace the negative, false guilt with truth and reason.  Some of my internal dialogue, as an example:   

Audrey gets ripped off by having to ride the bus in the afternoon.  I'm not going to make Luke wait in carpool during his nap time five hours a week.  Besides, she loves it and gets home approximately five minutes later than I could get her there as a car rider anyway.  I miss so many Saturday mornings with the family because of my running.  It's good for your health.  They're only awake for about an hour before you return and it gives David extra time with them.  I should've taken that friend a meal weeks ago.  They still need to eat now.  Make it this week.  I lost my patience with the kids.  But you apologized and asked for their forgiveness.  I'm failing at ABC.  Maybe, but you're nailing XYZ. 

Most of the time no one even notices these trade-offs and balance rotations but me.  And what if they do (and assuming their opinion matters)?  Then I apologize and ask for forgiveness and grace.  The cool thing about that...in addition to appearing human...is that it's easier to extend to others when they need it.  Plus, I feel like I'm making the time that I do have truly count.  If I'm going to shortchange somebody or something, I want it to be justified by focusing and doing the chosen thing well, if that makes sense.  If Luke has to watch a show while I work, I laser-beam and hit it hard so that it's not wasted time.  When the show is over, I turn off the computer, put down the phone, and try to concentrate solely on him.  When David and I get the luxury of a date night, I make every effort to be present and engage.  When I read the Word or pray, all distractions must be removed.  Multi-tasking has its proper place, but I'm trying to remember that less productivity is better when it comes to loved ones.  Perfect balance doesn't exist, so the scale should always tip to the side that has your heart.  

I don't do these things perfectly.  In fact, I'm not even sure I'd say that I do them well at this point.  But I try.  And like good ol' "Bones" said, I pray that God's grace will fill in the gaps and that "He'll take care of the rest."

Potty School Drop-Outs

Confession time:  As of Monday morning at 7:17am, we are potty school drop-outs.  Failures.  Quitters.  Wimps.  

I did not reach this monumental decision lightly.  Here's a sample of my "conversation" with others on the matter (a.k.a. emotional tirade that I made my husband, several friends and family, and the Good Lord above listen to):

"But potty training feels like a BIG thing!  It feels like a 'if-I-screw-this-up-he-will-be-living-in-our-basement-when-he's-forty" kinda thing!  How can I do this to him?  How can I say, either literally or figuratively, 'Buddy, you're terrible at this' and take that shot at his little self-esteem?!  He will be scarred forever.  I can almost hear the collective sigh of all the child psychologists in the world shaming me.  He will never recover from this punch in the gut and will always hold it against me."

Thankfully, I have learned two things important things:  1)  I have a tendency to overreact.  2)  I have learned to surround myself with people that don't. 

One dear friend in particular reminded me that Luke is an old-soul, intelligent two year old that is perfectly capable of having a conversation about the topic.  She also convinced me that being two, he will believe whatever I tell him to believe.  

Feeling better, but still not quite ready to throw in the towel, we decided to try for a few more days.  We purchased a Fisher Price potty (and would've been better off just flushing $30 down the real toilet.)  We upped the ante on rewards.  We gushed praises and gently admonished.  Nada.  I mean nothing in the potty for SIX days.  I think part of the problem was a tough bout with constipation that left him a little scared.  Whatever the reason, I knew it was time to either ratchet it way up and do the 3-4 day underwear/bootcamp method (that I honestly didn't think would work) or...quit for now.  We had a decision to make.  And pardon the horrible pun, but it was time to poop or get off the pot.

I decided to ask Luke.  Here's how it went down:

Me:  "Luke, let's talk about potty training.  How do you think it's going?"

Luke:  "NOT good."

Me:  "Yeah, it's a really, really tough thing to learn isn't it?  I am so proud of you for trying! Would you like to take a break for a little while and try again after you turn three?"

Luke:  "YES.  We should do that.  That's a really good idea."  (No joke.  His words.)

I don't ask my kids for their input on a lot of big decisions.  I give them little choices throughout the day so they learn how to decide and think for themselves, but we are unashamedly a dictatorship about the major things.  Nonetheless, this just felt right to ask about.  I misread his cues and I wanted to go back, but I wanted to know how he felt.  Turns out he felt he misjudged the situation a little too.  

The first-time Mama in me would've dogmatically continued on, in part to avoid admitting my mistake to my child or others and in part to show my kid that Sinyards are NOT quitters. 

...Except when we are.  Except when it's right to quit.  Sometimes being a good mom is about pushing and encouraging and cheering when your child wants with every fiber of their being to stop.  So much of motherhood is about making them do the right thing, even when they don't want to.  It's days upon days of nagging as positively as possible and sometimes annoying yourself at your unrelenting reminders to just. keep. it. up.  

But sometimes?  Sometimes motherhood needs to be about stepping back and saying "Hey. Let's reevaluate this together."  It's remembering to take a breath and then look at the big picture for a minute.  It's about chilling the heck out for everyone's sakes.  

The second-time Mama in me knows better.  I was wrong.  It's not the right time.  He will get this, but not now.  We have too much on our collective family plate and he's not ready.  AND THAT'S OKAY.  He will be fine.  

I have never felt happier about failing something in my life.  I pray this lesson sticks with me as we navigate deeper into this never-a-dull-moment parenting journey.  Quitters DO win sometimes.  

P.S.  If you see Luke in high school and he's wearing Depends, turns out we should've stuck with it.  

An Update on AJ

I wanted to take a moment outside of a monthly recap post and fill you in on how Audrey has been doing.  She's had a lot going on lately beyond just starting kindergarten, as if that wasn't a big enough adjustment by itself.  I honestly can't remember what I've already written about, so I'll cover everything here but please excuse any repetitiveness. 

As you may recall, she got glasses back in May.  I had a lot to say about the subject (imagine) and wrote about it at length here.  The doctor wanted to see her six weeks later, so we went back in July for a check-up.  At that point, the doctor was pleased, but wanted to see us again in six more weeks.  She wanted to make sure there was at least as much improvement in that time span or we would have to start patching her strong eye to force the brain to use the weak one.  I was optimistic that we'd make great strides and didn't really think much else about it.  When we returned in August, the level of improvement was not up to where the doctor wanted it to be, so she instructed us to begin patching her strong eye two hours a day.  Audrey broke my heart when she turned to me and whispered, "Mommy?  I'm not too sure about this."  Feeling guilty that I hadn't better prepared her for the possibility, I reassured her it would be just fine.  I listened to the doctor give examples of hand-eye coordination activities that would be good to do while she was "patching" and then we picked out the cutest possible patch (no small feat) and went home feeling a little bummed.  

That night, we tried it out for about half an hour and she was a trooper.  She has said to me several times that she really doesn't want to do this at school.  I don't have an honest answer that she'll never have to, so I just say that's not what we're doing right now and bring her back to the task at hand.  Since that first week, we've worked our way up to the prescribed two consecutive hours per day, sometimes aiming a bit higher on weekends.  

Two days after that appointment, we had an appointment with a pediatric orthopedist about her toe-walking.  It's something that she's done since she started walking and her pediatrician has always dismissed it, saying she would grow out of it.  After an intense conversation with a well-meaning loved one, I couldn't get it out of my head and started researching online (which is the best possible thing to do when you're worried about a medical condition, by the way.)  

After reading that most kids do indeed grow out of it by the age of five or six, I decided I didn't want to wait any longer and made a call to her pediatrician for a referral.  We went in and the orthopedist had her do some stretching as he pushed and pulled on her legs.  He watched her walk and asked me questions.  He concluded that we've gotten ourselves into a tough cycle:  She has walked on her tiptoes so much for so long that her calf muscle is shortening and her tendons are tightening so now it's more comfortable for her to walk on her tiptoes.  He listed out the less-than-ideal options in progressive order: stretching at home, physical therapy, serial casting, and, finally, surgery, which they wouldn't even consider before she's ten because they'd have to redo it after she grew.  We left the office with instructions to stretch for 15 minutes a night every night and come back in six months.  We promptly walked over (on "flat feet", of course) to Stride Rite and spent $50 on a pair of high-back, thicker soled tennis shoes to aid in keeping her heels on the ground.  The doctor didn't seem to think they'd help, but I figure they can't hurt.  I just can't bring myself to put my five year old in heels yet, so we're going to start with boots and shoes that come up high and are difficult to bend.  

Since that appointment, I've spoken with a friend who is a physician's assistant and whose daughter has gone through all of the treatment options for toe-walking short of surgery, which she'll be getting at the end of the month.  She gave me a lot of hope and encouragement.  I've also talked with another children's orthopedist who lives in our neighborhood.  Without having actually seen her and just going by what I said, he's not concerned and said, "There is NO way I'd even consider serial casting as long as she has the ability to walk heel-to-toe."  He went on to say physical therapy sounded like an option for us if we wanted it, but doubted we'd need to go more than once a week.  He calmly reiterated what I've heard for years ("she'll likely grow out of it") and followed up by saying that even if she doesn't, it's not that big of deal.  If she wants to participate in sports, she'll just need to stretch really well before playing.  

I hate to be so pessimistic when it's only been two weeks, but I'm doubtful anything but a physical reminder in some orthotic form is going to help.  We can do all the stretching in the world but the mental habit is ingrained.  I've read about something called "AFOs" (ankle foot orthosis...basically a splint) and am wondering if the physical therapist would offer that down the road.  Our plan right now is to keep stretching for another couple of weeks and then maybe make an appointment with a physical therapist just to get evaluated.  After being told by Thomas Eye Group that things were inconclusive and to wait six months only to find out that was far from the truth, you'll certainly understand my restlessness not to wait around.  If it needs to be fixed, let's do all we can to fix it now.  If she really is okay according to three different experts (2 children's orthos and a PT), then we'll chill.  

Lastly, a quick update on school:  We had her parent-teacher conference on Tuesday.  It was a huge relief to me because her teacher understands a) how bright she is and b) how sweet she is, but c) has already identified how to challenge her, namely by drawing her out of herself and into more of a leadership role.  Those that know AJ on a personal level probably find this hilarious, because she is NOT shy at home or in small, comfortable groups.  At school, however, she's timid and blends into the background.  The teacher gushed about how she has so much to offer and outlined ways that she's slowly pulling her more into the forefront.  As I listened to her heart and passion for these kids, I wanted to cry.  This teacher may not be the best at communicating, but she knows what she's doing.  And she's good at it.  Everything else is secondary because she SEES my daughter.  What an answered prayer.  

So that's where we are.  I know that I know that I know that it could be SO much more and that we are so, so blessed to have to mostly-healthy kids.  But, if I'm honest and transparent (which I try to be since it's my blog and all), it's still kind of a lot.  It's a lot on AJ and, selfishly, it's a lot on me.  Or, more accurately, it's not how I want to fill my limited time with her these days:  nagging and stretching and patching and nagging and WORRYING...and then nagging some more.  

Will you please pray for us?  Will you pray that all of this makes Audrey stronger?  Not just her eye and her legs, but her will and her determination to do the hard things.  Pray that it strengthens our family's relationships as she sees us as all being on the same team helping her.  She feels alone and a little like an outsider right now because "none of you know how this stuff feels", as she puts it.  I hate she has to deal with this, but I also...maybe more so...hate that at five years old, she's so concerned with being made fun of and being different.  I want this challenge to build her up and, in turn, help her build up others.  I want her to know how beautiful she is, inside and out, and how loved she is by God and her family no matter what.  Please join me in praying that she feels that to the depth of her soul.  

I don't care if she's a ballet-dancing pirate (and no, I've never called her that!) She is my ballet-dancing pirate and I love her so much it hurts...especially when I have to watch her struggle.  

I'll update you more later, but in the meantime, thanks for "listening" and praying!