i was filling up hot water bottles for me and the baby, and realized how i could’ve gone to bed, thinking that i did nothing with my evening hours. and now i’m thinking that i need to give myself more credit. i wrote (and am indeed writing now), which means i had a coherent thought in the quiet hours post-bedtime (hooray!). and i made a freaking pie. jones will be happy to eat pie tomorrow. and i learned something i didn’t know anything about when the day broke. (do you know where matsumoto and ueda are in nagano-ken?)

it was a rough day. there was yelling and apologizing. then more yelling, and more apologizing. there was praying about the yelling, and singing “Jesus, I come” alone in the kitchen. and then there was a whole lot of the same, with slight variations, between then and now, as i follow the last flit of writing inspiration before seeing myself off to bed. (bryan is away tonight.)

despite the roughness, i am happy to report that there are so many things on the upswing in my (our) life. for starters, i am listening to God. and i am hearing him, with surprising frequency. “sit down and write” was one of the things i felt Him say today, just before starting this. its amazing to me that all i had to do was slow down and ask — about ordinary, nominal things, really — and He hasn’t failed to answer. by way of impressions, or thoughts, or situation. God, should i make this pie now or later? and i know: i should do it later.

its amazing. give it a try. for now, i’m off to bed.

resting every weekend, all weekend. literally not leaving the house. (i left once, for twenty minutes, on saturday night for groceries.) and why didn’t i start this sooner?

learning to play the ukelele.  one self-taught lesson under my belt. (#bucketlist)

drinking decaf.

hoping to make an apple pie this week, but haven’t compiled enough desire to actually roll out the crusts yet. (more than enough desire to eat it, though.)

getting a new hairstyle every time i shower. sometimes its straight, sometimes its wavy.  what gives?

wanting more of God. oh, how i want more of God.

learning what it means to have real relationship with God, to listen in prayer, to essentially do things i thought were too “out there” to actually mean something to my experience of God. i must say, i’m relieved that it isn’t too “out there” that i might commune with Him – like actually feel His presence – on a daily basis. hoping that is where He is taking me.

these are the days of a toddler screaming bloody murder from his high chair.

these are the days of collapsing on the couch after bedtime and renting another itunes movie, even though i said yesterday’s would be the last.

these are the days of dinner dishes in the sink until lunch the next day.

these are the days of wearing my ugly robe, even though its ugly.

these are the days of struggling against guilt and exhaustion.

these are the days of “just five more minutes” of the boys favorite tv show, and “just five more minutes” of mommy’s much needed nap.

these are the days of struggling over education decisions, feeling completely uncertain, and wondering every day if we should be doing something differently.

these are the days of learning to depend on each other in marriage.

these are the days of boys pushing each other over, every chance they get, and me ignoring some of it.

these are the days of tag-team parenting, taking turns sleeping in and overseeing the crazy.

these are the days of kicking, screaming, punching one minute, and playing quietly side-by-side the next.

these are the days of bad home-done haircuts.

these are the days of jones saying something five times before i actually hear him.

these are the days of me saying something five times before jones actually hears me.

these are the days where a few moments of extreme cuteness is almost enough to bring me up out of the fog of tiredness.  almost.

these are the days of not wanting to get dressed in the morning and wearing my pajamas 48 hours straight.

these are the days of looking at my bible more than i read it.

these are the days of shuffling to the crib too many times in the middle of the night.

these are the days of saying YES to watching spiderman (should my boys already be watching spiderman?) just one more time.

these are the days of macaroni and cheese.

these are the days of giving them a bath only every three days, saving water and time and sanity. (think what you will, but bath culture is different here.)

these are the days of “one more minute” and “get out of the kitchen!” and “yes, you can help me make cookies (because right now i think i can handle it).”

these are the days of “come here, mom!” and “watch this! watch this!”

these are the days of marker on the dining room table and juice on the floor.

today is new year’s eve. tomorrow is oshogatsu and the beginning of something new. oh, how i am ready for something new!

three kids brought me to a whole new level of exhaustion, especially considering that we were still trying to operate as if we had only one — or none. when i was pregnant with jones, we had all these silly ideals about how we weren’t going to let kids change our life, we were still going to go camping and take trips and throw big parties and business as usual. ridiculous, really.

so now i’m bobbing up for air and realizing just how long i’ve been under water. and if my gasps and gulps tell you nothing, then i can say i’ve been under for a really long time. five years, perhaps.

breathing slowly after such a spell of no breath at all, i’ve found myself to be inescapably, utterly, completely and irrevocably tired. i don’t want to leave the house. i want to burrow in and cook comfort food. even if i do nothing all day, i collapse on the couch after bedtime as if i’ve run five marathons. i know mothering makes you tired regardless, but its as if i’m experiencing all the pent-up exhaustion i’ve not been allowed (by my own self) to feel until now. i think it will take a while to recover.

we are learning new things about ourselves, our family, every day. God is giving insight and understanding in areas we’ve needed it for a while. we are making a change.

welcome, new year. we are ready for what’s next.

:i want to be at my mama’s house, curled up on her couch with her, pretty things around us, watching an afternoon movie and thinking about what yummy food we’ll eat that night. (miss you, mama!) (for those of you who don’t know, my mom’s house is like a life-size pinterest board. seriously.)

:i want to be at my grandma J’s, eating my aunt’s chocolate covered peanut butter balls.  i made them here last year, but they’re a little too involved for life with two boys and a baby. (SAD.) maybe next year.

:i miss my grandpa and his hugs. getting my fix will have to wait til heaven, though!

i am so very glad for my amazing wonderful friends (ebbers and dodds, woop woop!) who will be traveling this way to fill up our house and make merry with us for Christmas — it makes missing home better!

today, God spoke to me.  He told me that during those five years i remember so well, He knew where it was all going to lead and i wasn’t guilty after all.  it was great.  the end.

wow.  i still can’t believe that even after one of the best days EVER (and i REALLY mean that — God smashed some serious walls for me today), i STILL have zero inspiration for writing.  i hate this phase. i really, really do.

and then there are times when i wonder if my fuzzy-brain is (and always will be) a by-product of life in another land, where too much energy is spent on reading signs and making small talk.  i peruse the blogs of people who are inspired.  and they read books, lots of them, despite the fact that they have small children.  and i question, “am i really a writer? why does life have to take so much out of me?”

today, after my meeting with God, i sat on a floor cushion and listened to andrew peterson’s “behold the lamb of God”.  i touched bryan’s leg and let my mind rest on the brave little boy who made Himself nothing on my behalf.   i feel as if i’m being made into nothing.  i hope He will fill me up soon.

right now, my sweet baby girl is cooing next to my knees, rolling over and flapping her arms.   the boys are playing sesame street games on the upstairs computer (i’m amazed i hear no fighting), precluded by an afternoon of markers, cars, and blocks (and let’s be honest here, TV — thank you Jesus for TV!).  and i am feeling alright for this span of time, closer to normal than i’ve been in a while.

but more than sun and walks and smiles from babies, its hope — isn’t it?  in the last few days, i’ve been in low and scary places, miraculously moved forward by hope.  nothing is so frightening as serious feelings, no matter their irrationality, because of their depth and their all-consuming nature.  someone needs to help lift you up out of their mess.  someone needs to point you toward the truth — that God knows.  He knows.  and He will arrange it all, whatever it is.

today, i feel happy that if He arranges things, then i don’t need to.  and i feel content with knowing that i deserve a break, and that it will come, and it will be restful.  and i feel at peace with the revelation that taking care of myself goes a long way in taking care of those i love most.

the perfect time to blog, don’t you think?

yeah, i thought so too. (now, how many times do you think i’ll run in and out of the room from this point forward? i’ll take a count and tell you at the end.)

from the last post, perhaps you could tell that i feel as if i’m hanging on to the scraps of sanity by my fingernails. sometimes i think this must be totally normal for moms with small children, especially when two of them are born close together (ez and harper are 19 months apart). other times, i honestly wonder.  i’m in the midst of weighing through those things with bryan, deciding what needs to be done.

(cue screaming from the other room.)

when i found out i was pregnant with harper, baby number three, i think i underestimated the toll it would take on me to be pregnant/breastfeeding/pregnant again/breastfeeding again without a little break.  the hormones all over the place, the sleeplessness (ezra is just now sleeping through the night regularly, at two years old), the physical demands of caring for a toddler and newborn — i feel in over my head.  my house is getting messier, my meals are becoming simpler, and i’m finding it difficult to stop my whirling thoughts, even when i’m totally alone.

and now i have to go take these monkeys outside.  ezra is about to climb and grab the camera on top of the screen while i type.  bad bad bad.

so i only left the room three times — less than expected — but i had a crying two-year-old come to me on his own twice.

ps – sommer asked for pictures in a comment to the last post — its been a while, hasn’t it? i’ll do what i can