The Book I Swore I'd Never Read

Seven years ago I was gifted the book Strong-Willed Child by my mother-in-law because she read it cover to cover with Travis. Not even an hour later my mom walked into my house and said, “oh I can quote that book, I read it so much with you”. At that moment, I made a decision to never crack that book open because there was absolutely no hope! My kids were inevitably going to be strong-willed, and I choose to go into parenthood blissfully blind.

TODAY I cracked that book open because Lucy had one of her infamous meltdowns, over her waffle. She asked for a chocolate chip waffle with Nutella. I made it … BUT … there’s always a BUT. I didn’t cut the center out to make it look like a donut and donut hole … so I did … BUT I used a spoon instead of a knife to cut that hole … a rookie mistake! Some of the Nutella got on the spoon, which I offered the spoon to her to lick the Nutella off … what was I thinking?! Meltdown City right in my kitchen. Four hours later, she melted down again over her lunch because the Kroger Clicklist sent the wrong brand of chicken nuggets. What were they thinking?! I’m not going to lie, her meltdowns are generally comical. But today I’d had enough, and the book that was used to prop a vase up was immediately plucked off the shelf. Dust flew everywhere as it was finally cracked open.

I know EXACTLY what you are thinking, she’s a monster, but she’s not. She just has a flair for dramatics. Lucy is the first to cuddle with you. She’s the first to ask for a kiss. She’s the first to give a kiss. She’s the first to tell you she loves you. She’s the first to pull you aside to “talk” to you about her behavior or your behavior. She’s also the first to call you ‘re-dic-ul-us’ or tell you she doesn’t want you in her family anymore. She’s the first to storm off to her room yelling about how she’s frustrated with you, and if she knew curse words, she’d be the first to curse you out. And she’s the first to make you want to drop that four-letter bomb. She’s the first to see an opportunity and take it. And she’s the last to apologize. She’ll tell you that she’ll just ask God to take away her sins, but she’s not going to say sorry. I often think we just live in her TV drama and she’s in the middle of an epic monologue. Sometimes a laugh track goes off at the end of her monologue or sometimes that suspenseful music faintly playing in the background gets your blood pumping until you see red and she better hope a commercial break comes soon!

Her strong will keeps us thoroughly entertained and on our toes. It’s what makes her, her. She relentlessly PRAYED for a baby, when the rest of the family minus Livi didn’t join her in that prayer, she kept praying. When that prayer was answered, she prayed it would be a brother. When Livi prayed for a sister, Lucy just started thanking God for her brother. She wasn’t going to ask anymore, she was just going to thank Him for what she wanted. And I’m sure God chuckled when she jumped up and down with glee because that baby was in fact a brother. Her teacher was absent on a Monday, which apparently is the day that they pick the Star of the Week. So Lucy came home and told me that she was the Star of the Week. The next morning she asked for pictures to take to school. Utterly confused, I sent her to school with “cut-out pictures” of herself. She was slightly upset that I didn’t have pictures of the doctor “cutting her out of me” … my mistake, it’s wasn’t exactly fun and games when you were born! In her mind, if she had pictures to take to school, how could her teacher pick a different student to be the Star of the Week. I couldn’t decide if I should be impressed by her tenacity or fret about her manipulation. And that’s how I feel about her day-to-day.

So pray for me as I learn to shape her will, while I protect her spirit … and that I actually finish the book.

Teal Broox Warren

Teal Broox Warren, you caught us off guard. We never saw you coming. We thought we had closed a door, a chapter in our lives, and then there you were banging on a door that was supposed to be locked up with the key thrown away. If I am completely honest with myself, it took me a hot minute … or maybe a cold long minute to get used to the idea of you! There were tears involved, tears of fear, dread, and maybe a touch of joy. I felt like Nick Saban taking a COVID test over and over again as he was trying to prove he didn’t have COVID so he could coach the Alabama Auburn game despite a string of multiple positive test. In the end, I fell flat, I couldn’t negotiate my way out of those two little blue lines. The Type-A in me didn’t like to be caught off guard or stuck in the middle of a plan that I didn’t intentionally set in motion, but there I was.

When I envisioned life with four kids, all I could see were things that I didn’t plan: sleepless nights, longer waits for a table at a restaurant, body changes that I didn’t want to be made, pregnancy discomfort … extreme discomfort, an extra mouth that could potentially catch a stomach bug, a ski trip that I couldn’t ski on, an occasional glass of wine that I’d have to give up for almost a year. All I could see were the roadblocks in life.

What I didn’t envision was the sheer joy you’d bring to your big sisters, the FaceTime squeals annoucing you were a little brother, newborn snuggles that I didn’t know I missed, a somewhat healthy pregnancy that allowed me to truly workout until the day before you were born, a chill baby … that I PRAY stays chill, the adventures of raising a boy, an extra giggle to add to our laughter. You are exactly what we didn’t know we needed and were missing out on. Welcome to the family Teal.

The Social Dilemma

I usually just write about what hot messes we are. I usually sprinkle tons of light-hearted bits of humor into our life adventures. But last weekend I watched a Netflix documentary that has stuck with me all week … it got me good! There wasn’t an ounce of it that didn’t make me stop and think.

I like to think of myself as being born in the Golden Generation. While most people classify me as a Millennial … a Millennial I AM NOT! People born in 1986 are considered the Golden Generation … (Now before you go and fact check me, just know that I read that once, and if I read it once, it HAS TO BE TRUE! But if you google it now, you’re only going to find FIFA articles.) Whatever you want to call me, I am a technology bubble kid, I grew up as technology grew up. I know life with it and I know life without it. By the sheer grace of God, I didn’t have social media as an adolescent because it was MY generation that invented Social Media as we know it today. While I love it, I see fully it’s negativity. I’ve always been vocal about my views about kids and screen time. There is so much research that proves the negative affects of screen time in kids. Screen time has negatively altered the development of the brain. White matter isn’t developed, therefore, learning to read is delayed … and if you don’t learn to read by the age of 9 … well, game over … we then have to remap the brain to teach you to read … but that’s a whole different blog for a different time.

I vividly remember being in a job interview and explaining early research that was proving that very theory to be true. At the time I had a one-year-old, and I said I will not let my child have an iPad or screen time … not even in a restaurant. No one believed me, but for the most part, I have held true to that.

The Social Dilemma Netflix documentary made me stop and think on so many levels. I can plainly see that social media and the Internet are breeding grounds for Spiritual Warfare. A warfare that half of the time, we aren’t privy that it’s going on. I want so desperately to protect my children from that warfare. I want to provide a safe haven for my girls to come home too when they had a bad day and the world seemed to be against them. When a phone is in their hand even at home, it’s nearly impossible for me to provide that safe haven. I know I have to model phones aren’t important. They need to see me WITHOUT my phone in my hand. They need to know that life exists without a device in my hand. For a week I have been ultra conscious of everything that I do on my phone, and believe me it’s hard! During a pandemic I’m not even going into a grocery store so I am on my phone making a grocery list. But when I sat and watched head executives and developers of major tech companies tell me they too were addicted to the very thing they created, AND that they wouldn’t let their kids have any screen time, I have to stop and think. When you see the flip-side of how these mega tech companies use your data to alter your brain and predict your next internet footprint, you have to stop and think. When I read the quote that only two industries call their customers USERS - illegal drugs and software, I have to stop and think … this can’t be good for me. When I look at a chart showing teen suicide rates have dramatically increased since 2006 because, in 2006 that was the first generation of kids to have social media in middle school, I have to stop and think. I have to stop and think, why would I give my girls access to this? Because everyone else is giving it to their kids, isn’t a good enough answer for me. Change starts with me … change starts with you. This doesn’t have to be the future for our kids. God placed US: you and your kids, me and my kids on earth specifically for this time period. HE knew what we’d be up against and HE equipped us with the tools we need. Be still and listen to how HE wants to use you to change the world … even if it is one small stand at a time. Life is always about the small things, the small voices, the small stands.

The Night Before Kindergarten

My Sweet Elle Belle,

I have been anxiously awaiting this day since I started teaching. I have wanted to share the halls with you since I was a little girl. While this isn’t the most ideal circumstances, we are going to be ok … and we’ll define ok … whenever we get there. There is so much I want to protect you from. Yet, there is so much I want to teach you before I turn you loose and you embark on this big world.

Most importantly, I want you to be kind. Kind to everyone, not just the people you know, but the people that you have yet to meet. I want you to notice the little boy or girl sitting in the corner without a friend. I want you to be brave enough to walk across the room and introduce yourself. I want you to be welcoming and invite them to play with you. You never know when someone is just waiting to be your friend. You never know when you will make someone’s day, moment, or year. I want you to know that sometimes kids are going to be mean and leave you out and that is 100% OK because your self-worth and value are from above. I want to you know that God is always with you when you feel nervous or scared. I want you to have wisdom in situations. I want you, to not only know but apply your wisdom. Life is full of choices … red choices and green choices. You, my sweet girl, are a green-choice girl!

Kindergarten here you come! Be brave, be smart, be full of joy and laughter!

Gumbo

Dear Gumbo,

We are sorry. We simply are. There are really no other words than just that! We have failed you. We truly have. We have given you a false sense of reality. We got you literally the day before quarantine started. We didn’t even call it quarantine back then … back then … we were oblivious. We thought we were given a blissful blessing of 2-3 weeks at home to potty train you. Little did we know that 2-3 weeks was really going to be 5-6 months, and let’s be honest … it’s been less than blissful. You were harder to manage than two toddlers during quarantine. But we still love you!

In spite of that, we set you up with this beautiful life outside of a kennel. A life where you could run and play at your leisure and your own free will … but that’s not your life anymore, NOPE! Not one bit. You see … you can’t be trusted outside of that kennel, so starting tomorrow we will leave, and you will be in a kennel all day. We hope you aren’t mad, and that you understand this isn’t a punishment.

You probably won’t understand. You’ll probably feel like it is a punishment. You’ll probably pee with excitement when we get home and then once I’ve cleaned that up, you’ll pee out of spite because we left you in the kennel all day … and I’ll be mad that I am still cleaning your pee up after 5-6 blissful months of potty training. You will probably run around in circles and eventually chew something we like or eat something we wanted to eat. We know your ways. We know you’ll get us back, but at the end of the day before we lock you back up in that kennel for the night we will tell each other we are sorry and we love each other … and then in the words of Livi, “We’ll do it all again tomorrow!”

Love,

Your loving family.

Above All Love Each Other Deeply

One of my favorite bible verses is 1 Peter 4:8, “Above all love each other deeply because love covers a multitude of sins.” I like to write that verse on all my wedding gifts. Most people opt for verses about love in Corinthians … not me! I’m going to enlighten all the newlyweds on the Peter love. In marriage, our ugliest self can come out so hopefully love covers that sin … yes you are full of love now, but one day you’ll be full of sinful rage over some trivial matter. So newlyweds is hang in there … love will cover your frustrations and sins.

I don’t watch the news because I don’t know how to explain the news to an inquisitive five-year-old. But the snippets that I see and the articles that I read leave me with a heavy heart, a frustrated heart, an angry heart. I grew up watching the news. I know it’s been an ugly world out there for a long time. Heck, I was the fifth-grader who wrote for their Student of the Year essay about what scared me most - someone slipping something into my drink. I had watched a 20/20 special on that … Obviously it impacted me. Needless to say, I wasn’t Student of the Year for Platt Elementary, and immediately recommended for therapy … just kidding … everyone thought that essay was totally normal.

Do people scare me … yes … I watched the news growing up. Of course people scare me! No matter their gender, skin tone, PEOPLE scare me. If you are a stranger and you get too close, I freak out. If you are someone I know and you get too close I still freak out. My family loves to make me jump out of my skin by sneaking up on me. Is there something deeply wrong with me … of course. I immediately think anyone coming close to me is going to attack me at any given moment. If I told you the number of times I have broken out into a full on sprint because I thought I was about to be attacked, you would laugh and simultaneously think I was one of the most awful people you have ever met. Once in the Dick’s Sporting Good parking lot because a clean-cut middle aged man was charging me … or I’ll reframe that statement to portray a more accurate situation … he was rushing to help me with my stroller as I struggled to load three toddlers into it to get a Father’s Day gift. But all I could see was a man charging me. Naturally I was scared. This is why I don’t not have a concealed carry licensee … I’d be on the news. Once in the middle of Downtown Hot Springs I thought someone was chasing me. I darted into an art gallery and told them the call 911 because someone was chasing me … they thought I was crazy … I was. Once in the middle of downtown San Francisco, I ran through the middle of a five lane street because the homeless shelters and soup kitchens were giving out lunches. I panicked at the number of homeless people on the streets. What did I think … they were going to eat me?! I have no idea. My point is … people scare me, not because of what they look like, just because I am leery of virtually anyone and everyone. I let my imagination get the best of me.

Yet, I know in my core and in my bones that God breathed life into EVERYONE, just like He breathed life into me. We are called to love. To love deeply … not just people we know or people like us or people who we agree with, but those who are vastly different, those who we have no common ground with, those who make your imagination run wild. We are called to love one another deeply because love covers a multitude of sins.

Small Things and Small Words

I’m currently doing a bible study called, Church of the Small Things, which couldn’t have been more God designed. He knew what He was doing. It wasn’t a fluke that “we” chose that bible study and were placed under a nationally mandated quarantine. He didn’t just want us to understand life is full of small things and mundane tasks, He wanted us to live it. And while I have lived it for the past two weeks, He has sprinkled little nuggets of truth into my life.

Life is made up of small, menial, mundane moments that build upon each other. It’s not made up of grand gestures or over-the-top activities. It’s made up of afternoons spent blowing bubbles, splashing in mud, and playing with sidewalk chalk. Those are the moments that make sweet, childhood memories. I have struggled with the intense need to have an “event” to fill all of our downtimes, especially in the summer. Whether it’s to the swimming pool, the museum, a playdate with friends, a picnic, or an afternoon at the park, I feel the need to be this extravagant social coordinator/event planner for my kids. Kids, who, after this quarantine, I’ve truly realized are completely content to stay at home and play with their toys. We are called to be content with where God has us … even if it is trapped in your house with your people during a quarantine that doesn’t seem to have a shelf-life.

Nobody sees your grind. Your late nights and early mornings are just that … late nights and early mornings. Your kids don’t realize that dishwasher you just unloaded for the tenth time today was for them or that mound of laundry you just folded was for them too. Nobody sees that you’ve spent your entire spring “break” working. Preparing for a new normal. Filming lessons when your house is silent, re-filming those lessons because it wasn’t quite perfect … there was so much more you could have added. And coming from a girl that craves words of affirmation, it pains me to say, that is completely ok! We are called to work diligently and serve with humble hearts. We don’t pray on the street corners so that we get praise. We don’t work hard so that someone will pat us on the back and say good job. One day it will be glorious to hear the words, “Good Job, my good and faithful servant,” but that’s a heavenly message. It’s completely ok if your earthly praise is merely praising you for burning the bacon … twice … in one day … because after all that takes true skills.

Life isn’t just made up of small moments, it’s made up of small words. The simple hellos, the out of the ordinary compliments are what can make a day. Those encounters with strangers and friends are something that I have realized I truly miss. While there are famous monologues throughout history that we have built our expectations or morals on and we can all recite by heart, life is honestly made up of small words. It’s the small words that can make or break a deal and make or break a day. It’s the last dig that always cuts like a knife. It’s that last text or email that frankly doesn’t need to be sent … even if you desperately need to prove a point. More than likely you don’t … the point doesn’t need to be proven. Negative words never win; yet, they leave a lasting impact. Every time I lash out, my words are deeply felt and become words that will rarely yield the results that I want. We are called to have our conversations full of grace, seasoned with salt so that we have the wisdom to know how to answer everyone in every situation. Be content, Let your words be small, yet powerful and full of grace.

A Bundle of Mixed Emotions ... A Classroom Teacher and a Momma

There are days … and when I say there are days … I mean
THERE . ARE . DAYS. That can wipe you out and leave you feeling like you're on empty. You know you have nothing left to give … not to your spouse … not to your kids at home … not to your dog ... not even to that fish swimming mindlessly around in its tank. Forget about housework, groceries, dinner, a shower … you are DONE for the day! You gave it all to the 23 tiny humans that said your name a bazillion times, leaving you feeling like you were spinning around in circles all day and never truly caught your breath for the day. There are years when that feeling is felt more frequently, that you truly are counting down the days until summer. Then there are years that you savor every moment because you know this was THE class. The class that will always hold a special place in your heart. The class that you don't know if you'll ever get one better than them. If we're all honest the sentiment of having nothing left to give is felt more often than it should, yet the sentiment of feeling like this was THE class is felt year after year. I guarantee if you ask any teacher, we'd all say the same, "It isn't supposed to end this way. We didn't get to properly say goodbye to our school babies, our 23 tiny humans. The days may wipe us out, but it's really the best kind of wiping out! Those are our days. We love those days. We love those 23 tiny humans. They are ours. The minute a child walks through your classroom door, they become yours. You worry if anyone is at home with them. You worry if they are eating. You know the trauma some of them have already gone through and what's already been taken away from them and now their one constant has been stripped away too. You know that most, no matter their grade, are having a difficult time wrapping their brain around what's going on in the world. The intense need to keep a sense of normalcy during such an eerie time is something every teacher is facing.

All I can think is how are we going to make it five weeks without hugging each other. Five weeks with merely a wave through a Zoom call that hopefully works for the whole class, but in reality, isn't working for the whole class. Five weeks teaching to a computer screen. Five weeks with no student interaction. Five weeks wondering and fretting if they are really ok. Five weeks with that coat they forgot to take home sitting unused in a cubby. Five weeks.

Then on the flip side, as a momma all I can think is this is a true gift. I have an extra five weeks to love on my babies. Five weeks that normally wouldn't be theirs. Five weeks that I won't walk through my door with a sense of I have nothing left to give them. Five weeks to savor my personal children. Five weeks to not start the morning off yelling get your shoes on, I have to be at work at 7:30. Five weeks to sing the Good Morning Song. Five weeks to actually fix their breakfast … like real tv moms do. Five weeks to not fling my crying girls into the arms of someone else to care for them for the day. Five weeks to not wonder if I should have taken the time to give one more hug and one more kiss. Five weeks.

My challenge is to feel like I made memories in these five weeks. We did something meaningful with our gift. I don't want to end each day feeling like I managed them all day, while I taught school on the computer. I don't want them to feel like I am still giving more to other people's kids than to them. Yet, I don't want my other 23 tiny humans to feel like I phoned it in for five weeks. I want them to know that a big piece of my heart is missing because it wasn't supposed to end this way. The struggle is real, the balancing act is real. My prayer is that I can semi-gracefully balance it all and make it five with filling everyone's cup!

Be Still ... and Just Know

A few weeks ago while jogging a blog post popped into my head … This is how I live my life a series of blog posts written perfectly in my head … clearly they rarely truly ever get written because I’m like the rest of the world, full of ideas, short on time. I was thinking about our schedule and wondering why in the world did I … me … not at the request of my girls, commit my pre-schoolers to in t-ball, gymnastics, and soccer … and if we are totally honest, I really want to sign the girls up for dance. I danced so don’t they need to dance, too? Yes, the answer is yes; it will always be yes. Do they want to dance … maybe 2 out of 3; therefore, we totally need to add that to our list of weekly activities. Thankfully, I had a morsel of common sense and wasn’t ready to be busy with all the things. I still desperately want us to routinely have dinner together at home every night because I know there will come a season when we don’t. And that’s when God just simply said BE STILL. … maybe it wasn’t simply if I am putting it in all caps.

We can get caught up doing all the things and going to all the places that we don’t leave time for God. He’s there when we need Him. He’s there when we want Him. But are we there when He needs us? Are we there when He wants to use us? What if Moses had been busy with t-ball and gymnastics and had missed the burning bush. What if Abraham said, “Wait a second … we have a soccer game Saturday, I’ll have to take Issac up the Mountain on Monday. But God … this is really going to ruin our season. Our teams needs him.” You know maybe basketball practice would have kept David from spying on Bathsheba … but we'll just never know.

God calls us to be still and KNOW that He is God. In a world that is busy with all the things and going to all the places. He needs something big to make us pause and actually be still. I heard someone say Sunday, instead of us going to His house to worship, we are finally inviting Him into our house to worship. We’ve live-streamed Him into our TVs, our phones, or tablets, our computers. A place where He might not normally be present. BUT, a place where He desperately needs to be present. He’s a big God. A miraculous God. He can powerfully eradicate this virus or any virus in our lives with a simple breathe, a mere whisper. Let’s just finally be still and know that He is God.

Midnight Magnus 'Bartholomew' Warren

The 28th of February started like any other Friday … cleaning throw up out of the back of the car before embarking on the mad dash that is school drop offs. Elle had a piece of hair in her mouth, which resulted in vomiting … totally normal right? … this is absolutely 100% NOT normal, but that’s another blog for another day! However, our day ended on a sad note. A note that I was so certain would prevail to a happier note. We had a to say goodbye to sweet beloved Magnus. He went down fast. Wednesday morning he was fine; Wednesday night he wasn’t. By Thursday morning, I’m making the girls, unbeknownst to them, take one last picture with him; Thursday evening he looked like he might pull through. Friday we knew that, more than likely, wasn’t going to be a possibility.

Magnus, named after Will Ferrel’s son … totally not true, was the absolute best dog. He was 100% low-key … excluding all of his allergies and medical bills. He didn’t bite, bark, dig, like water. He was a lab only by name. He responded and acted like a human so much sometimes that I questioned my belief system. He gave us some wonderful memories like the time he “Houdini-ed” out of two harnesses and ran freely through a crowded park or he time he wandered off and ate raw meat all before 7 am leaving me questioning whether I should just call in sick or the time he ran away in our new neighborhood. A neighborhood that I didn’t know, leaving me to search for him with 3 kids under 4. We all held his leash tight to bring him home … it takes a village. Twelve years of great memories!

Most days he just laid around and waited patiently for us to play with him. He would occasionally sunbath in the yard, which would ultimately result in an allergic reaction. But that’s ok we were used to steroid shots and eventually found an allergy medicine to give everyday … totally low-key. He loved our girls. He was a protective big brother to Elle. He love/tolerated Livi and Lucy … I think he always wondered why we decided to bring an extra baby home the second time. The girls all fought over whose turn it was to feed him. They loved taking care of him or cuddling with him in his bed. Everyone wanted it to be their night for him to sleep in their room.

The girls have taken the loss pretty hard. We all have. Elle has informed us that we are lucky because we will die before her, Livi and Lucy so we will get to see Magnus first … thank you … a touch morbid, but thank you … I think. Livi said that Jesus is petting Magnus and Magnus is now friends with the dead deer that our neighbor killed. Lucy wants to know why we shot Magnus … circling back to the deer our neighbor killed. The Warren girls are intrigued by hunting and killing deers.

Magnus had some big paws to fill. He will forever be my favorite dog … even if my name wasn’t on his papers because, and I quote Travis, “our relationship had hit rocky times.” Ha! One day we will have another dog lounging in front of our fire place or sunbathing in our yard, but for now we just miss our boy!

Nap Time ... The Bane of My Existence

Not actual nap time footage

I intended to write a birthday tribute to each of my girls about how wonderful they are and how much I love them … but I don’t really feel like writing anything nice because only one of them is taking a nap and that one really needed a nap and a fresh, new sparkly four year old attitude. Nap time has become the bane of my existence. I’ve read the books … we have a routine … yet we still have issues. Nap time is supposed to be my golden three hours of the day. I mean I’ll settle for two, but I’m drawing the line no less than a golden-two-hour nap. And I’m not surrendering to that rotten-power-struggle hour before nap … it has got to go. You ALL need to get in bed and go straight to sleep … you have nothing left to potty … it’s all been tinkled out.

I knew during Spring Break we had a bit of a problem, but by Thursday of Spring Break, I thought I had solved it … I thought wrong. I had figured out if I lay with Livi and Lucy for 10 minutes they will chill and go right to sleep … silly me … that only works during Spring Break, not Summer Break. What was I thinking to have thought it could be that easy? Now they want to talk to me, like we are at a sleep over. Umm no … close your mouth, yours eyes, yours ears … you can keep your nose holes open, but that’s it … close all the holes because you must go to sleep immediately!

Actual nap time footage

I’ve narrowed down the culprit … it’s Livi. I had intended to write about how she was my favorite child … well as of 12:30 pm she has been demoted. Livi, I might find it comical listening to you in the middle of the night on the monitor waking everyone up so y’all can all come sleep in my room together. BUT I do not find it comical that you continuously keep everyone up in the middle of the day. It makes my blood boil … Mom needs a nap because you woke me up in the middle of the night! Livi, I don’t care if you have trouble settling. That’s really not my problem. You need to work on your Executive Functioning skills and problem solve. Your solution is to drift right off to sleep. I don’t need to change your room, your sound machine noise, or read a fifth book. We both know none of those options are going to work; you will still be awake. If you stay quite, I might rock you to sleep while I catch up on The Hills. And worse case scenario, which we both know is practically every day, I’ll shove you in the car to go for a short drive (we NEVER did this for you as a baby, so you are lucky … probably because I considered you my favorite). But quite frankly I don’t have time for that, Friends is leaving Netflix at the end of 2019, and I’m still in season 2.

I’ve decided my only logical choice is to build and paten a vibrating mattress pad that mimics a car sensation, but this will cut into my own personal nap time and Netflix time, so I really need y’all to tell me this has already been invented, and I’ll Amazon it to my house.

Potty Training Twins

If you are reading this blog for tips … I’ve got nothing! There is a mommy guru blog out there waiting for you … I’m just hanging out in real life.

Climbing ninjas, just helping themselves to a few snacks.

I believed the mommy guru’s blog with my oldest. She allowed me to live in Mommy Fantasy Land, which prompted us to have another kid. She potty trained in 4 days at 26 months. Looking back it was fairly easy. We potty trained her a few months after bringing the twins home. She wasn’t ready or interested, she didn’t wake up dry. She showed no signs; yet she was ready because the clock was up … her parents refused to buy diapers for 3. Four days later magic happened with the help of her dad, the babysitters, and myself.

She set the bar. She set the bar so high that my climbing ninjas couldn’t even come close to reaching that bar.

Drinking up girls … the potty is waiting.

First Attempt - Christmas break
Day 1 - Lucy did great (she’d been going pretty regularly at school). Livi not so much.
Day 2 - Travis and Elle jumped ship and went to church. Lucy got a little territorial and started marking her areas around the house. She’d look me dead in the eyes and pee. Clearly she should have gone with them because homegirl needed a little Jesus that day. Life loving Livi followed suit … peeing around the house looked like a party and Livi couldn’t miss out. As I am cleaning pee up everywhere, one … who knows which one, they look alike … broke a huge glass picture frame and I had to pick glass out of her foot … a nice break from cleaning pee up. All the while, I am sending extremely friendly texts messages thanking my husband for going to church because things were going phenomenal at home.
Day 3 - They ganged up on me and took all of their clothes out of their dresser and all of their sheets off their beds during nap time. I retaliated by throwing their snack to them in their room, and locked them in toddler jail (at least it was apples.) And that my friends was the end of potty training.

They retaliated for being locked in toddler jail by making this occurrence a habit.

Second Attempt - Spring Break
Day 1 - I introduced the Tee-Tee Treat (M&M’s) and the Tee-Tee Sticker Chart. Cleaned up my first round of pee to find, Livi locked in the pantry eating all the Tee-Tee Treats and Lucy sticking stickers all over the Tee-Tee Sticker Chart. They were back in pull-ups by 10 am. Nobody’s got time for that. I also decided to veto that fourth kid because I didn’t have it in me to potty train another soul.

Third Attempt - First Week of Summer
Day 1 - I don’t really know what happened because I went to work all week, but what I do know is that they were semi potty-trained by my mother-in-law with the help of a Poppy from Troll’s candy dispenser.

Six weeks into summer you can find me at any and every public bathroom … my favorite part of being a girl mom. You can usually hear me yelling things like, “STOP! Don’t touch that, It’s disgusting!” “I’m sorry ma’am, there’s three in here I couldn’t catch her before she crawled into your stall.” “Yes, you can help me … here … hold this one.” (never offer to help because that crazy momma will take you up on it!) “Get off the floor, get of the floor, GET OFF THE FLOOR!!!” “This is incredibly disgusting!!” “Don’t touch that … DO NOT touch that again” “That is NOT a baby trash can” “Yes, that does have blood on it.” “We are NEVER going to the bathroom in public again!” Needless, to say we have had to set a bunch of ground rules for the public bathroom.

Rule 1: Hold it!
Rule 2: You’re just going to have to hold it.
Rule 3: If dad will take you, you can go!
Rule 4: You may ONLY use your feet and elbows to touch things.
Rule 5: You may not pull your pants down in public and pee standing up … I will take you to the dreaded bathroom!
Rule 6: Remember Rule 4.

I Survived August ... Did You?

I survived August! ... and you're probably thinking hey, me too! As a little girl, I would wake up excited on August 1 because that meant it was my best friend's birthday. As an adult, I wake up on August 1 full of dread thinking I'm NEVER going to get it all done ... sorry Natalie.

Our wedding. 

Imagine starting your job over every year, that's what August is like for a teacher. No matter how much I prep there is still a TON of stuff to do before school starts. Flashback 10 years ago, I knew this, but I hadn't fully lived it when I was picking a wedding date. I thought August might not be the best month, but whatever ... warm honeymoon ... tropical anniversary celebrations! What was I thinking, I won't be traveling in August until I retire. On top of that, I was marrying an August baby and his mom was an August baby. Birthdays have always been a big deal in my family, I shared a birthday with my mom and my dad's birthday was a week later. His entire family also shared our birthday month. So our entire month always felt like one big celebration. This was now going to be our August with a bonus Anniversary. 

I wanted our first child to be born on April 3 so we could have three generations on one day and be in the Gennis Book of World Records ... naturally Travis won, our first born is an August baby ... I guess I should have done a little bit of math in order to win. When we started considering a second child, I told God no more August events, and we were in the clear with an October due date. But God chuckled and said, "I'm sending them to you two months early. Look at the bright side, it's two people but only one day in August." If He could have sent an emoji down to me, it would have been the heart kissy face emoji ... I'm certain because they were born on the first day of school. 

Since Elle was born, someone is always gets the shaft, usually Travis. I forgot to give him a thirtieth birthday party because I was prepping for school and planning my very first 1st birthday party. Elle will remember her first birthday the rest of her life ... no one remembers their thirtieth. I shouldn't feel bad, I tried to redeem myself, but he wouldn't let me give him a "32 on the 23rd" birthday party ... I don't know why not that sounded like a brilliant party theme ... so we settled on me forgetting to get "boy" candles for his homemade cake! Just about every year since then, he has gotten a card with pictures of what I thought about getting him, I just didn't get around to getting it ... at least they were colored pictures! We also rarely celebrate our anniversary because I feel guilty since I didn't get myself together to give proper birthday presents, therefore, our date night must be deemed his birthday celebration. His birthday is the day after our anniversary (it only took me eight years to get that sorted out in my brain). 

Needless to say, it's September and I survived! I gave a triple birthday party ... my kids might resent me for making them share a party and a present ... but I'm ok with that. It's not my fault they were all born in August ... I should have had a better math teacher! This year, I was ready. I wasn't too stressed about school starting. I didn't have to ship my mother-in-law a birthday present in September. I had myself together for Travis's birthday present ... I mean I still made him go to the store to buy it himself, but I KNEW the whole month of August what I wanted to get him, so I still count that as a win for me! 

Tears on Senior Citizen Tuesday

We don't get out much. Much to no one's surprise, we have abandoned our always-on-the-go lifestyle and adapted a stay-at-home-at-all-cost lifestyle.  Lucky for us there is online shopping, curbside delivery for take out and grocery store pick-ups. We truly don't have to get out of the car. As long as, I ignore the three year old in the back seat begging to go into the restaurant or store, we are totally fine!

At the beginning of the summer, I caved to that three year old in the back seat and decided, YES we can go in the grocery store. Kroger and Sam's are one of the few places that accommodate to people with more than one kid. So I figured a trip to Kroger should be relatively easy with the help of the "car buggy." AND it was ... until Elle stole the powdered donuts I told she couldn't have. She was so proud that she cleverly tucked them next to her in the passenger seat of the car buggy and snuck them out. I promptly took her back in and made her apologize for taking them. On the ride home, I realized I couldn't be mad because we had never taken her INSIDE the grocery store. It became my mission this summer to expose my children to the mundane parts of life. How could I expect them to behavior properly in public, if they were never exposed to it.  

Which brings me to, today. I strategically arrived at Kroger on Senior Citizen Tuesday (If you've been a longtime reader, you know that Senior Citizen Tuesday reduced me to tears 6 years ago because I thought Hot Springs only inhibited Senior Citizens.) Tuesday is now my favorite day because I can guarantee the car buggy will be free! The stars were not aligned because there was absolutely NO car buggies today. We were forced to use a regular buggy. I put Elle in the seat, knowing that Livi and Lucy would fight over who got to sit in the actual buggy. We made it work, we got our free banana right when we walked in, which lasted through the produce section. Then we arrived at the deli section, our favorite bakers gave the girls a cookie, by now everyone knows the girls, and everyone is extremely friendly. Livi inhaled her cookie and started standing up. If I told her once, I told her a thousand times to SIT DOWN. Once Livi started standing up, like any good sister, Lucy followed. If anyone watched me for more than 60 seconds, they knew I was struggling to keep the girls seated, and I really couldn't fault them because as I added more and more groceries to my buggy there was less and less room to sit.

As we left the meat section (no one gives anything free away in the meat section so usually this is when our adventure goes down hill.) I turned onto isle 7 a man in street clothes starts yelling, "Ma'am! Ma'am! I'm going to have to ask you to make them sit down. They could fall and it's a liability. You NEED to make them sit down."
I smiled ... I'm confident it wasn't my friendliest smile, and politely said, "I'm trying." 
He proceeds to tell me, "I have a two year old and she likes to ride standing on the front. It's dangerous. She could fall and bust her head open. I don't really work for Kroger, I'm just a rep. They told me to talk to you because they can't tell you to have them sit down."
More smiles ... no words ... many thoughts, Really you have a two year old who you can easily strap in the buggy, and yet she is hanging off the front of the buggy. Maybe you should have some grace on the lady with 3 under 3 who has managed to keep them contained in the buggy all the while carrying a carton of 18 eggs because she knows they will break if they enter the buggy. 
My new friend continues to correct me for them standing up. 
 Finally, I break my silence and say, "There wasn't a car buggy that could house everyone. I'm trying to keep them seated." I start rolling away. 
He continues, "Yeah, just make sure you keep them seated. Hey little girl how old are you?" - Then chatter about August birthdays ensues. All I could think was, These girls are ticking time bombs and you've already lectured me for them standing up, so why on earth are you trying to hold me up by talking about August birthdays.

Needless to say, for the second time in my life I wanted to cry in Kroger on Senior Citizen Tuesday. I'm hopeful he meant well, and I completely agreed with them, they shouldn't stand up. I just wish instead of a lecture, he or whoever sent him over to me had taken the intuitive to ask if they could help or find the car buggy. Instead of eagerly awaiting an opportunity to correct someone, let's be eager to help people. 

The Working Mom Guilt

You know the guilt. It can sting at times. I might use humor to cover up the sting, but it's still there. I humorously refer to our beloved in-home babysitter as the "daytime mom," while, I'm the "nighttime mom." There are days (most days) where I hand them too her and say, "Have fun! Last night, the wild one climbed on top of the kitchen island and was chewing on a knife or FYI, they can open doors and they will run away. Have a good day, see you this afternoon!" Yes, there are days when it is much easier to hand them over to someone else so they can deal with all the messy bits and the hard parts, but that doesn't mean that there isn't a tinge of guilt accompanying those days.

Honestly, I blame the most logical person, Rosie the Riveter. Why Not? She told us we all needed to get a job and go to work. While her, "We Can Do It," message might not have been truly genuine, she changed the culture of American families ... (A little semi-history lesson: factories needed workers during WWII, so our friend Rosie became the iconic recruitment symbol to entice women to enter the workforce.) And they never looked back. WHY Rosie?! June Cleaver was an excellent role model ... wasn't she?

I've had seasons in motherhood when I played June and seasons when I played Rosie. They both have their trade-offs, and the grass isn't always greener.  I have been a stay-at-mom, and to be honest, most days I was bored out of my mind. I could clean our house in a day. I didn't have a baby that liked to cuddle or play with me. I had a little girl that would sit in the floor for hours playing with blocks or coloring. She didn't make a huge mess and she didn't require much attention. When I did start working again, this same little girl waved by and ran off to play with her new playmates. She was also the same little girl that ran away form me when I came to pick her up, she wasn't done playing and socializing. I am fully aware that would not be the same story if I stayed home today! I'd never sit down and would constantly be cleaning up a massive mess ... maybe with a smile on my face ... maybe not!

Although, I often yearn to stay home, I know that I'm not called to stay home. I'm called to deal with the messy bits with someone else's kids. And that's ok. I wanted a profession that truly made a difference in other people's lives. If this year has taught me anything, it's that some kids, not all kids, but some go to school to find a good momma, and I need to be the momma that I yearn to be at home, at school. Despite that revelation, my biggest fear is that I'm giving my kids my left-overs. I still want to have enough of the good parts of me to give to them. I don't want them to remember a tired, haggard momma. A good friend recently told me that God gave my kids the exact momma they needed ... even if that is a tired, haggard, working momma it's the one they need. 

Monday through Friday I might be haggard, but I'm a rockstar on Saturday and Sunday! I know the grass isn't always greener on the other side. I've got to let the guilt go! It's ok to go to work!

My Lost Summer

TV junky.

Almost two years ago my summer came to a crashing halt with one doctor's appointment. ... am I being a bit dramatic? ... yes. I had been placed on bedrest ... moderate bedrest ... so yes I am definitely being overly dramatic. However, my trip to the Fort Worth Zoo was canceled. Honestly, the 8 year old in me was quite please because frankly the zoo was total punishment to me as a child. Walking around in the heat looking at smelly animals doing nothing in a cage that is the size of my back yard, was definitely not my cup of tea! But I was excited to take Elle. I was excited to see her reaction to all of the animals doing nothing in small cages. While the 8 year old me was cheering, the 30 year old me was devastated. It wasn't so much that my summer plans were canceled, it was that all the things I was looking forward to doing and exploring through Elle's eyes had been yanked out from under me. 

Our summer was strikingly different from what I had planned for it to be. Instead of showing Elle different animals, I taught her how to watch double features about animals while I napped. Instead of playing in the yard, we sat on the patio and washed the dog while sitting down. Instead of swimming, we pretended to swim in the back yard. Instead of going on fun lunch dates, I taught her that it is possible to cook lunch from the kitchen table. Instead of playing in the bathtub, I taught her how to walk into the shower and wash herself. We did lots of coloring and reading, but nothing active. This was nothing like what I wanted my last summer with Elle as an only child to look like. I now truly realize how fast I made that 20 month old little girl grow up. 

I knew Elle's little world was about to be rocked when we brought her sisters home, and I was determined to make that summer about her as much as possible. In hindsight, it was. We "The- always-on-the-go-Warrens" were finally forced to just be still and just enjoy each other. God always has a funny way of giving us just what we need, when we need it. He knew that for the next two years, most of the "action" in life would just simply have to pass us by because we would be at home tending to the girls. Life as we knew it would and did change tremendously. Eating out was a thing in the past. Date nights would be and are few and far between. An afternoon to myself would become a rarity. Trips to the Fort Worth Zoo would just simply have to wait. And honestly I wouldn't trade any of it! 

I feel like I’ve come full circle this summer … well not really because I am definitely not about to have twins again! But I feel like I am finally getting to experience my lost summer. Yet this summer, I get to explore life through the eyes of not one, but two little girls. I am ready for all of the action, but if we are being completely honest, I'd love for these little girls to learn to watch a double feature while I take a nap. I'd even settle for a Sesame Street Episode, but that's just not in the cards with these wild two! And if my 32 year old self could give my 30 year old self any advice, it would be that my 8 year old self is always right. The zoo would have been a total let down that summer because Elle would have more than likely sat in a stroller and chilled ... just like my two tiny friends to the left are doing. My lost summer wasn’t really lost. It was exactly how it was intended to be … still and restful.

Just a Wandering Israelite

It wasn't my favorite house. In fact, I had fallen in love with two others, but so had two other families, and despite it not being my favorite, it became ours. I had an incredibly long laundry list of things I wanted to change. Some we got to, some we didn't, and in the end, I realized most weren't really that big of a deal after all. Yet, the new owners will thank me for relocating the vanity in the master bathroom ... a girl can only take so many massages from the toilet as she puts on makeup!

Somewhere along the way that unwanted house became my beloved home. It's where we brought our babies home, it's seen all of our happy moments ... and all of our sad. It was a safe haven. It's were we struggled as new parents, and then really struggled as new parents of three under three. It's where we realized the power of turning a baby monitor off and going to sleep. It's where we became us - the Warren's. 

When Travis suggested we look for lots, I adamantly said no! Sure I wanted a half bath for guest so that my little girls didn't have to fall in a toilet bowl every time we had a male bathroom visitor, but I could put a sign up. I didn't have to move. I was comfortable, close to work and close to Walmart. What more could a girl ask for?

During Lent last year, we started reading the Bible chronologically. Travis kept insisting we look for land, I kept saying no. Praying that God would get us on the same timeline ... aka ... slow Travis down to fit my timeline. Three weeks after we started the Bible, we received a random insurance check for the twins. We'd already paid their medical bills, so I agreed to buy a lot with that money, but I wasn't building a house on it. Once again, I had an infamous laundry list of reasons why I wanted to stay. The only way I would build, was if x-y-z happened and the people who bought it would rent it back to us until we were done building. I knew how unrealistic that was, and that was why I chose those stipulations. We agreed to stay put for about 5 more years. A week later (week 4 of the Bible) we were on Spring Break and we received a call that people wanted to look at our unlisted house. They were also willing to rent our house back to us because they weren't ready to move in. For the second time in my life I felt chills as God told me I'm doing this for you. (The first was changing worship styles at our current church, but that's another story for another blog!) By Friday, we had two offers on our unlisted house and were in major prayer mode. We accepted the second offer, and then unaccepted it Saturday morning because I didn't have a peace about it. The first offer was the winner!! Everything was moving at rapid speeds and falling into place. Everything was completely God ordained.

... And then it wasn't or so I thought. We had an incredibly wet summer. We blew (or so we thought) our budget straight out of the gate with a huge 8.5 ft slope in what we thought was going to be a flat slab. After weeks of the framing crew not showing up, our builder framed the bottom half of the house. Then Hurricane Harvey hit, which should have NOTHING to do with us, except that it had EVERYTHING to do with us. Most of our framing crew left to make more money in Houston, and the ones that stayed came for a few days to frame the top, and then jumped ship without finishing. It was setback after setback.

I continued to wander and grumble the whole time. This has been one of the toughest years for me professionally and personally. I leave work on empty, completely emotionally drained and all out of grace and patience. Then I come home to my babies, who sometimes need/demand grace and patience. The last thing I wanted to do was deal with anything related to a house that I didn't really want to build. There were many days when I suggested, let's just quit or proclaimed I'm done, you can make all the decisions. We had delay after delay. December turned to January, January turned to February. Yet, God was still there and still faithful. By HIS grace, our precious landlords, who I will forever be indebted to, let us continue renting as we promised "just one more month, it should be finished." We finally had a move-in date that was set in stone mostly because I was moving in regardless of it being finished: February 24. About two weeks after we set that date, Travis was looking ahead in our Bible App to see when we would finish ... February 24. Chills right?! For the third time in my life, I got chills as God told me, this wasn't my journey, it was HIS. I realized I was just an Israelite wandering and grumbling in the desert to caught up on MYSELF to appreciate what HE was up. HE held my promise land in the palm of HIS hand. Just waiting for me to realize it. 

Who Says?

Elle and I have been jamming out to Joshua Micah’s song, Who Says? I frequently apply it to so many areas in my life:

See that wildfire in your eyes
Keep on burning keep that dream alive
Can’t let go of what you got inside
Maybe it’s crazy
Maybe it’s meant to be

Who says you gotta have it all figured out?
Who says you’ll never feel alone in the crowd?
Who says you gotta be like everyone else?
Who says?

While the wildfire in my eyes is usually a touch of rage directed towards my three year old who is her own wildfire, and I let the dream of becoming Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen’s best friend die, the song still speaks to me on so many levels. I definitely don’t have it figured out, and if I’m honest I probably never will! Just last night I realized that I was praying that my crampy stomachache was pregnancy rather than a stomach bug because the thought of the whole family having the stomach bug again was unbearable. We checked that off of our 2017 Bucket List, no need to revisit that experience! Obviously I thought the prayer through and weighed my options: 24 hours or 18 years with the potential to add one more to the family stomach bug. Needless to say Garth was right some of God’s greatest gifts are unanswered prayers. AND it was just a stomachache!

While I might never feel alone in the bathroom … (Side note the 3rd line of the chorus fits here, but I'll refrain from applying it.), I often do feel alone. Suddenly with 3 under 3, our life is completely different and everything is more difficult. I go weeks and months without connecting with my girlfriends. As a full-time working mom, I feel insanely guilty if I miss bedtime or playtime to go out with friends. I try to live in the moment, but I really have no clue what that actually means! Does that mean we just sit and play all day?

Everyday errands suddenly take planning. The grocery store alone with the girls is not really an option … Where would I put the groceries? Lunches and dinners out to eat ... not the most enjoyable at the moment. Obviously we aren’t like everyone else because when we actually do go out in public we are accompanied by stares or loud whispers and of course the most bizarre comments that I never know how to respond too:

• Are those twins? ... No I just happen to have another baby that looks exactly like the other baby. 
• Are those triplets? ... Yes one is an abnormally fast grower and she talks extremely well. 
• Which one is the boy? ... That one ... he just has a bow in his hair and is kicked back in a pink car seat. 
• I bet you’re busy. ... Yes, we NEVER sit down!  
• You don't look like you had twins. ... Umm ... thank you ... I think? Not really sure what you mean by that! 
• Looks like you have your hands full! … Yes I do, so do you mind opening that door for me instead of standing idol while watching me struggle?

No, I’m not like everyone else, I wouldn't trade the odd exchanges with strangers, the bathroom parties, the cuddles or the open mouth kisses for anything else in the world!