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Kristen Anne Glover

Five in Tow

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All Things New: 100 Beautiful Days of Motherhood {26}

Pink Rhododendron

Halfway through the morning, the weather changed.  The lazy grey clouds were thrown off over the mountains like covers, and sleepy-eyed sky appeared.

Kya had already drawn a fluffy cloud on her weather chart, but no one minded the inconvenience of erasing it and starting over with a yellow-rayed sun.

I was going to have to find my sunglasses.

It was warm enough—just—to play outside without mittens and take one more stab at winning the argument with Mom about running around outside without a coat.  It turned into the kind of day that makes the early lambs jump around in the field and compels dogs to roll in things they shouldn’t.

It was a day that felt new, like mercy.

Dry leaf and sunset

Mercy is something I need.  I have felt a little bit brown around the edges lately, a little too tired and buried a little too deep.  I am back to my old mistakes of taking on too much and saying no to too little.  All week I struggled to keep up in a race I never should have been running in the first place.

Little things got under my skin, like rocks, and I felt gravely.  I said things to my husband I shouldn’t have said and didn’t really mean.  It’s always easier if it’s his fault than if it’s mine.  It’s always easier to feel trapped by him than to acknowledge the fact that I’ve imprisoned myself.

But I don’t think he knows how to build a cage as well as I do.

If there’s one thing I am good at, it’s walling myself up with too many commitments.  I am good at finding ways to chain myself to the clock and the calendar and the to-do list.  I am good at scrambling my priorities and fighting him when he tries to set me free and straighten me out.

I think that if I can build a cage, then I can get myself out of it.  So I clench my teeth and set my resolve and make everyone miserable while I try to prove that I can do it.

The truth is, I can’t do it.  Not well, not godly, not in a way that is healthy.

This last past week was not healthy.

But today was the kind of day that forces me outside.  I have to hang something on the clothesline, even though nothing will dry.  I untangled the bed from the flannel sheets and extra blankets which have held us captive since sometime in October.  They hang head-down and penitent on the line.

Clothesline

It is good to be aired out, I think, and to start fresh.

I stand out in the yard and fill my lungs with the smell of the waking earth.  I notice that the deeply hidden daffodils and tulips are beginning to push their way up through the dark and the dirt and the dead of winter.  Their tender green shoots push aside the brown fallen leaves and stretch toward the new mercy of spring.  They are dirty, still, from being so long in the ground.

But they are growing again, even after a season of dormancy and darkness.

I am a little dirty too, a little rough around the edges.  But on this beautiful day of motherhood, I cling to the hope that God is not done with me yet.  My sins may be chronic, but so is His mercy.  He coaxes me out of the dirt and into the light.  I am well aware that I have not done everything right or well or good.  But I am also aware that God is in the business of making all things new—including me.

Crocus shoots

Parenting 10 Comments

Surrounded by Savages: 100 Beautiful Days of Motherhood {25}

A young and innocent Kristen Glover, banished to the Outside while her mother makes quiche

First published in August, 2012

In the beginning, the first man and the first woman had two children.  But the children were both boys so their mother felt like she had a dozen.

The earth was young and the boys were wild since they didn’t have any girls but their mother to tame them.  They made weapons out of sticks and stale bread and pomegranate seeds.  They chased the sheep and ambushed the chickens and managed to find mud in the desert.

They punched and wrestled and ran so much, some days their mother thought she might go deaf.  Other days, she wished she already was deaf.

“That’s it!” the first mother shouted.  “I’ve had enough!”

The boys stopped dead in their tracks and wondered if this might be the end of the human population increase.

But God looked down on the earth and had compassion on the first mother because she was the only woman in the entire world, which pretty much meant she was surrounded by savages.

So God looked out over the great expanse of all that He had made, but He couldn’t find any place in all  that wild world that was soft and beautiful where a mother could rest.  So He said, “Let there be an oasis in the middle of this great expanse, and let it be called ‘Inside,’ and let Us separate the ‘Inside’ from the ‘Outside.’”

So God put up four walls and a lovely flat roof and separated the Inside from the Outside.  And God saw that it was good.

Then He told the mother, “You shall have dominion over all the Inside.  You will put flowers on the table and crochet afghans for the bed and tame a cat to sit in the window.

“And you will lure the man Inside by baking things that smell good and occasionally undressing.  Once the Man comes Inside, you will make him take off his dirty shoes and talk about his feelings.

“But if the Man leaves his greasy tools on your counter or uses your best knife to trim his toenails, you will send the Man Outside.

“And you will lure your children inside with bedtime stories and cozy blankets and sugar.  You will teach them to say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ and not to put their fingers in their noses.

“But if the Children shave the cat and turn your best tablecloth into a slingshot and release something scaly onto your bed, you will send the Children Outside.

“Then, you will sip a cup of tea, make quiche for dinner, and paint something.”

The woman smiled.

So it came about, after a surprisingly short period, that the Children spent a lot of time Outside.

And the Man built himself a garage.

Savages

Kya Outside, making weapons

Fiction, Humor, Parenting 11 Comments

Variations on the Theme “Mom”

When you’re a new parent, you can’t wait to hear your baby say your name for the first time.  “Say ma-ma!  Say ma-ma!” you coach.  You have no idea that in a few short months, and for the rest of your life, your little Muffin will use that single word like a machine gun in her budding linguistic arsenal.  She will say it so many times and mean so many different things by it, you will begin to wonder why you were jealous when she said “da-da” first.

If you’re going to survive until your child reaches adulthood, you will need this guide.

The 10 Most Common Meanings for the Word Mom

Don’t encourage me.  You have no idea what I’m going to do once I can say ma-ma.

  • “Ma-ma, ma-ma, ma-ma.”

Interpretation: Huh.  She comes whenever I say that.  Interesting…

Where you are, there I will be.  And if I’m not, I’ll cry.

  • “MommEEEEEEEEE!”

Interpretation: Don’t ever walk out of the room again!  I thought you disappeared forever!

“Sibling” is Latin for “informant”

  • “MOOOOOOOOOOM!”

Interpretation: I’m about to tatttttle on sommmmmeone!

I know you said “Yes?” three times, but how can I be sure you’re really listening?

  • “Mom?  Mom?  Mom?  Mom?  Mom?”

FYI: I’m talking to you.

Genius at work

  • “Ma-OMMM!”

Interpretation: I’m stuck.  Again.

The louder I scream, the less it hurts

  • “Ma-aha-aha-aha-aha-aha-mmm!”

Interpretation: Oh, the pain!  Oh!  I’m going to die!   Can I have a cookie?

The bedwetting mask of shame.

  • “Mom-UH.”

Interpretation: I can’t believe you mentioned bedwetting in front of Grandma.  Again.

I’ve got her right where I want her.

  • “MOoooOOOOOOoooooOOOOOOOooooooOOOOOM!”

Interpretation: I’m out of fishy crackers.  And yes, both of my arms are broken.

  • “Mom.”

Interpretation: You’re hopelessly misinformed.  Allow me or Dad to educate you.

Lastly, the most dreaded “mom” of all:

  • “Muh-ther!”

Interpretation: The party is so over.   Keep this up and I might have to roll my eyes at you.

*This use of the word “mom” is reserved for those Special Forces known as Moms of Teenagers.  Disregard if you have a son under 13 or a daughter under age 8. 

Humor, Parenting, Uncategorized 15 Comments

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I believe you can find grace for the mother you are and help to become the mother you long to be—a mom who has the freedom to choose the better things and enjoy her kids right now.

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