When You Don't Want To

"There are always going to be things in your life that you have to do but don't want to do."

I can't tell you how many times in the last few weeks I've said that to my kids. The freedoms of our summer schedule have been replaced with an increase in work and responsibilities. Every time they bemoan a task, I remind them of that statement.

"You don't have to like it. But you have to do it and you have to have a good attitude."

If I didn't wash our laundry, we'd walk around in stinky clothes. If Leighton didn't go to work every day, we'd have no home and no food. There will always be things such as going to doctor appointments, paying bills, cleaning toilets, maintaining a home and vehicle, managing money, raising children and reprimanding disobedient behavior, cooking, cleaning, chores. Life is full of responsibilities. 

"You never reach a point in your life when you can do only the things you want. Never. You will always have responsibilities you don't like. It's part of living."

So as I have been reminding my children of that, I experienced my own "I don't want to!" situation. I grumbled about the injustice to Leighton while the kids were getting ready for bed. It wasn't fair and I didn't want to do it.

That's when the Holy Spirit whispered my own words back to me.

"There are always going to be things in your life that you have to do but don't want to do."

Oh. Ouch.

While I realized the reality of certain responsibilities, I failed to apply that thinking to other areas of my life. I was acting just like my children by throwing a mini fit.

But I don't want to! I don't feel like it! It's not fair. Why do I have to?

Those same selfish and juvenile traits were manifesting in my much-too-old-to-be-acting-like-a-child behavior. Then my own parenting guidance came rushing back like a slap in the face. You know, when someone puts you in your place and you get a heaviness in your chest or a pit in your stomach.

The longer I parent, the more I realize that the lessons I am trying to teach my children are ones that I need to work on, too. We could all use more kindness. More selflessness. More integrity. More hard work. More empathy. More love.

I've always been a huge believer that you determine your attitude. You cannot control your circumstances, but you can control your response to them. After all, Paul and Silas sang in prison, Job praised God even after he lost everything, and Daniel continued to show respect to the king even while surrounded by hungry lions. It wasn't that they were in pleasant situations with everything going right; it was that they kept positive attitudes and trusted the Lord.

Having a good attitude isn't going to change the circumstance, but it will always make it more bearable. The psalmist described it perfectly in chapter 17: "A merry heart doeth good like a medicine: but a broken spirit drieth the bones."

As soon as I felt that prickling of the Holy Spirit reminding me of the lesson which I was trying to teach my children, I knew I needed to change my own attitude--not only because my little ones had heard my grumbling, but because it was the right thing to do. I still don't want to handle this responsibility that's going to take hours of my time over the next many weeks, but I determined not to complain about it anymore. I will do my best and with a good attitude. These little ones of mine are always watching, and I never want to appear hypocritical to them. Do as I say and not as I do is not an option. 

Yes, there are always going to be things in your life that you have to do but don't want to do, but your attitude will make all the difference.

Lessons from Geocaching

Here's another catch-up post that I started all the way back in April! It was a fun day, but, more importantly, one in which Daddy and Mommy learned a few lessons from the kids.

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The weather warming up means one thing to our family: geocaching season begins! 

Sure, we could go out any time of the year because the caches are in place year-round, but we're not quite ready to trek through the snow and cold with our little ones just yet.

That Saturday was a beautiful day, so we decided to pack a lunch and head out to a park to find some caches. Since Tyler is a big fan of "gucks", I wanted to make sure we went somewhere we could feed them. Everyone was very excited about the plans we made.

And then the plans changed.

And changed again.

And again.

Leighton had to work a couple hours in the morning. And, as it usually happens, a couple hours turned into a few hours. I was left with antsy kids at home who were itching to head to the park.

When's Daddy coming home?

Soon. He should be leaving in a couple minutes . . . Oh, he just sent me a message. Nope, it'll be another hour or so.

I wanted everything ready to go, so when he got home, we could walk out the door.

Water--check.
Snacks--check.
Sandwiches--Ugh. we're out of lunch meat (even though I had gone grocery shopping the day before and should have bought some then.)

I sent Leighton a text and asked him to pick up some on his way home.  Oh, and bread, too, since I had forgotten to buy a loaf for the ducks. Oops.

He got home. I made the remaining sandwiches. We gathered everything and headed out. Finally.

We unloaded at the park and decided to have our lunch right away because it was already 2:00 pm. The picnic was nice and uneventful, except for the runaway sandwich bags. The wind had picked up quite a bit and was blowing things around, much to the delight of our little ones. They laughed as they chased the bags.

As soon as we packed everything up, Alyssa informed me that she had to go to the bathroom. We headed over to the building.

Locked.

It was still early in the season and the park wasn't "officially" open yet. Now what? Do we make her hold it? Do we leave? Do we find a secluded spot and have her go in the woods like we're camping?

Leighton and I asked her to try to hold it for a little while, at least long enough to find a cache or two and feed the ducks.

She agreed and we started walking down the path. The boys were trying to run ahead, Alyssa was whimpering and hobbling along, and the ducks were no where to be found.

On top of that, the GPS wouldn't pick up any coordinates, so we couldn't find any caches either.

Nothing was going as planned. We drove all the way to this specific park, only to cross off eating lunch from our list of things to do.  

I was cranky.

Having kids has taught me to be more flexible. Things don't always go as planned. This perfectionist has grown a lot these past 9 years, especially once we started homeschooling.

But this day? I was having a hard time keeping my attitude in check.

I did not want to load up all the kids again already, especially since we hadn't done anything. I was crabby that we were leaving. I was frustrated that the GPS wasn't working. I was annoyed that Alyssa kept reminding me how badly she had to use the restroom. I was upset that the bathrooms were locked. 

I was cranky.

I told Leighton that we needed to go somewhere with a bathroom. The problem is that there was no where near the park we could go, except the library. I said we needed to go there, but he was against it since we weren't actually going to the library for the books. It seemed wrong to him to go just for the bathroom. He just wanted to head home.

I snapped. No, we were not going home. We were not going to forget all this planning just to go sit at the house and do nothing. We were going to have fun! Whether we liked it or not.

The kids sat in the back of the van happily chit-chatting, while Daddy and Mommy were upset in the front. We weren't fighting, by any means, but we certainly weren't seeing eye-to-eye.

He decided to stop at the library, after all. Poor Alyssa wasn't going to make it much longer. I took her in while the boys waited in the van.

As soon as we got back, Zac decided he had to go. (Why didn't he realize this 5 minutes sooner?) Now it was my turn to wait while Leighton took him in. It was starting to feel as if we were never going to actually begin geocaching. 

It was at this point I realized how foolish I was being. All these circumstances were beyond my control. The kids weren't bothered by them; they were still enjoying the outing. Why was I so cranky?

I apologized to Leighton when they got back. It wasn't his fault, and he certainly didn't need or deserve my attitude. Thankfully, he's an understanding guy. It's one of the many reasons I adore him.

He found another spot with multiple caches that wasn't too far away. We headed there, this time with better attitudes.
 

And then, in typical fashion for the day, the area was closed off by a police car. There was an event taking place later that day and everything was blocked except for the main road. We got stuck following the path into the event area until we could turn around the head back.

Geocaching spot #2--denied. Again. But this time it was more of a frustratingly funny situation. Your attitude determines how you will respond, not the circumstances.

Leighton suggested trying 1 more spot before heading home and giving up. This is a strip with tons of caches covering miles of trails. This area has never let us down. We found a spot we'd never searched, park the van, and began our excursion.

Finally.

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It ended up being a great day. We found multiple caches, the kids had fun playing and climbing in the woods, and we enjoyed spending the day together as a family.

It was humbling to me to see how my little ones reacted to the mishaps of the day. They remained positive and delightful. And me? I acted like a little child who didn't get her way. As parents and adults, we're supposed to be teaching the kids; we're supposed to set the good example. And yet, it was my children who were acting more mature than I. I'm generally a positive person, but I let undesirable incidents cloud my judgment and affect my actions.

Once I got my attitude back in the right place, it didn't matter when something went "wrong" or not according to my plan. I determined to keep my mindset positive.

And once I relearned that lesson from my kids, I had a lot more fun the rest of the day.

The Mission

There are days when everything goes smoothly. When everyone has a pleasant attitude, gets along with each other, obeys, and does exactly what they're supposed to. Mostly.

And then there are days like yesterday.

Days when all 4 kids wake up more than an hour earlier than normal. When the baby who has had a nose like a faucet for 3 days and is on antibiotic drops for an ear infection suddenly has an infection in the other ear as well and is cranky and wants mama every single second and then still cries because of the pain. Days when the oldest is picking on his siblings. When the middle two are tattling on each other. When all the kids are irritable. When mommy is irritable. When everyone has way too much energy. When everyone is trying to be the loudest. Days when the stress level is way too high.

That is how yesterday started. Quite frankly, I wanted to plop the kids in front of the television, turn on a movie, and enjoy an hour of peace. I wanted to walk in the other room, without 4 sets of little legs trailing behind, and remove myself from the chaos. 

But I couldn't.

I just couldn't justify using the TV as an easy way out, when it wasn't going to solve anything anyway. Sure, it would have given me a few precious minutes without hearing a whiny Moooom! But before the end credits could finish, those little ones of mine would have been back to jumping off the walls. Literally.

What did I do?

Why, the only thing I could do, of course.

I called the whole team into my office and sent them on a mission. Oh, this was not like any mission they had been on before. This one was was much more dangerous and required greater skills. The outcome of the entire operation was dependent on the help of each person.

Thankfully, they were up for the challenge.

As soon as they got to the location, they were given the first task: Put the letters in alphabetical order. Yeah, it sounds easy enough, but they were working under pressure. If they didn't have all the letters (except for I, where did that silly letter go anyway?) within 10 minutes, lasers would be activated and shoot across the room! They worked together and accomplished the task, minutes before the deadly lasers were activated.

There was no time to celebrate though. They had to move on to the second assignment: Use the letters to make 3 words. All 3 words had to be together at the same time, so there was no reusing the vowels. And remember, that silly I was nowhere to be found. They had to think and do it fast, because knives were going to fly out of holes in the walls in 5 minutes! Those quick-thinkers made Zac, hit, and young and were able to turn off the mechanism before the knives came flying.

Just as they were reveling in their accomplishment, they were given job number 3: Return the letters to alphabetical order. Oh, if only they hadn't completely destroyed the setup to make the words! It was organized chaos as they replicated their first task. They had to work even faster this time though, as they had only 7 minutes before the floor started to crumble, and they plummeted into the hot lava below! They completed the assignment and saved their lives in the process. Whew!  

Task 4 required listening skills: Stand on the letter that the each word begins with. The only problem? There had to be 3 squares pressed at all times. The only way to break the code and stop the walls and ceiling from closing in and squishing them was by using teamwork. Each member had to listen carefully to the words. I read off the sequence (words like alligator, princess, moon, dinosaur, yellow) and the team rushed to break the code. They had to hurry though. If the sequence was broken for 3 seconds, the walls began to move! They listened carefully and helped each other find the proper letters in time.

I had been corresponding with them through satellite up until this point. But I knew what was coming. The next trap would require more experience, more expertise. That they might need my help was a strong possibility. I made the long trek there, in hopes of aiding them in the completion of the mission.

The goal was almost in sight. Failure was not an option.

There was nothing to do but press on.

They had one final job to do before retrieving their treasure. Find objects that begin with each of the letters. They immediately jumped to action since they had only 15 minutes before a giant boulder was released and came rolling through the passageway, flattening us in its wake! They rushed around, gathering the necessary items. Things like football, tiger, ogre, xylophone, corn, pillow, and Joker were found and placed on the appropriate tiles. 

Before we knew it, we heard a loud buzzing. Our time was up! The mechanism that was holding back the giant boulder was about to release! We were terrified!

Fortunately, there was a clause written in that gave an additional 5 minutes if an object were placed on a tile at the exact time the alarm went off. Whew! We were safe. For now.

We still had 3 more letters to fill: V, K and U. We scrambled around to find anything that could be used. 

U - umbrella! Jake returned with a huge one.

K - Ken! Alyssa ran to retrieve the plastic doll.

V. . . V . . . V?  Violin . . . vampire . . . vulture . . . Vietnam. We couldn't find anything that began with V. 

Wait - vacuum! Jake ran and got the play vacuum, placed it on the square, and stopped that boulder from rolling flat us like a pancake. We did it!

And . . . we unlocked the vault and got to the treasure. Finally! 

It was a dangerous mission, but well-worth the risk.

The only thing left was to construct a rocket and get out of there before anything else could happen.

Mission accomplished.

Messy Situations. Literally.

I posted this on Facebook this morning:

Your attitude about negative circumstances is so important. Sometimes, all you can do is laugh. If the rest of the day continues like this morning, I'm going to be laughing. A lot. :)

Things happen that are beyond our control. Situations arise that are less-than-pleasant. How you respond to those times can determine your day, your life. You can't change it. So why get upset?

I woke early this morning. I read my Bible and even had time to exercise before my 3-month-old woke up. I fed him while enjoying the quietness of the house as the others were still sleeping. We played together, just the two of us. He smiled. I smiled. He talked. I talked. He threw up all over me. I changed my clothes.

I sat at the table with my baby. All of a sudden, I felt warmth on my lap. Hmm, I thought. My lap feels wet.  I lifted Tyler up and there, where he had been sitting, was a pool of baby poop.

I stood up and instantly felt the warm liquid trickling down my legs. It was then that I really wished someone else was around. I needed help. Someone needed to clean the baby up. Someone needed to clean the floor and chair up. Someone needed to clean me up. That one and only someone was me. All I could do was laugh. For a split second, I debated what to do. I walked the few steps to the counter and grabbed a couple kleenex. I quickly wiped the streaks of pea-green that had reached down to my ankles, and against my better-judgment, trekked across my light-colored carpet to the other side of the house, praying the goopy liquid would not leave its mark on my floor. 

Still laughing because this whole messy situation was so ridiculously grotesque, I set the baby down on a changing mat. I slowly, carefully opened his romper. unsnap . . . unsnap . . . unsnap. Another pool of green goop was waiting for me in his clothing. Still more in his diaper. The smile on his face matched my own. Even he understood how absurd this was.  

I changed his clothes. I changed mine. I cleaned every trace of green from myself and my house. I put my little one down for a well-deserved nap.

It was after this incident that I wrote the above statements as my status.

Fast forward an hour or so.

I reached into my refrigerator for a jar of jelly, a big two-and-a-half-pound jar of jelly. The top, by which I was trying to retrieve the condiment, was not screwed on properly. Thus, I dropped the jar on floor, splattering jelly everywhere. Everywhere. Here I am, wearing ivory-colored capris, covered in deep red jelly. I remembered my words from this morning. And I laughed. Again. 

I rinsed  my clothes, left them to soak in a bucket filled with a stain-removing solution, and headed back to my sticky kitchen. I sopped up piles of jelly from the floor. I washed the sticky substance that was dripping down my oven. I scrubbed my cupboards that were splattered red. I wiped down the backsplash that was doused with more than it anticipated.

I turned to the remaining jelly and grabbed a piece of bread.

"Mommy, I don't want a sandwich anymore."

And I laughed.