I Shouldn't be Doing This

a) blogging.


b) showing yet.


And yet, I am. (Both.)



That's right, I am showing. Not the baby, or even the uterus. It is me. I have to admit this to people who exclaim excitedly, "Wow! I can tell you're pregnant! You're really showing!"


Yes, I tell them. I am. My pregnancy will probably show in another few weeks, but practically speaking, the only time it does that nowadays is when I am on my back and a) my bladder's full or b) I'm having a contraction or c) both. If you don't believe me, see this pic from a few weeks ago. The contrast of this cantaloupe-sized belly compared with my usual "look" is undeniable. I am most definitely the one showing at this point.

At any rate, this is not bothersome to me. In fact, I love pregnancy, if only for one reason: It is a great excuse to look pregnant. There's no feeling badly that I can no longer button my pants (as of this week) and that I definitely have a pooch going on. Ahh, what an excuse pregnancy gives me to let my abdominal muscles have a sabatical. Not pregnant, I must be vigilant to not look pregnant, so as not to have anyone ask me if I am, and who has that kind of drive and muscle tone? Well, not me.

I had my first prenatal appointment on Monday, at 14 weeks. The girls and I had a relaxing time in Barb's new office. So relaxing, in fact, that I had the lowest blood-pressure reading I can remember having (not that I remember these things): ninety-something over fifty-something(Don't you love the preciseness?) This is especially surprising because at the time of the reading, I had two children on my lap, restless and demanding. I think this whole, "refusing to feel guilty" first-trimester attitude has contributed greatly to this. But I am no longer in the first trimester, so my guess is that my blood pressure will never again in this pregnancy be that low. I simply must begin my daily regimin of guilt soon. If not, I may run behind and have to pile on some double-doses.

Oh, and we got to hear the heartbeat, which was a little confirmation/reality check to me that yes, I am pregnant, and yes, it is a baby in there. (Not that I questioned this, but there's something about that super-fast heartbeat that clears up any doubts that I could just be gaining a great deal of weight in . . . my. . . uterus.) The older girls, playing on the floor, stopped, looked up and smiled as Barb said, "That's the baby!" Haley was right there, front-and-center, enthralled in what was going on. On her tippy-toes, eyes level with my belly and bright with curiosity. Her expression was priceless. So full of wonder and awe. Barb and I laughed that if we didn't know better, we'd think she understood the significance of what she was hearing. But we both knew it was simply an interest in that cool electronic device that made weird sounds.

So, that's the update. We're just surviving away here at Casa de Cowart. Keeping up on the essentials and barely anything else. It's quite enjoyable when life's this simple. I think my children would agree. Their mommy is not the same mommy from a few months ago. She's much nicer.

Okay, enough yammering. Here are some pictures.


When we got home from Christmas in Colorado, we bunked the girls' beds. We were also going to move Haley out of her/the guest room, but still finding myself not ready for the day each morning, we opted to leave her in her own room a little longer. She wakes a good hour or more after the other two, and I want to hold onto that as long as I can.


Casey and his buddy from work got this dollhouse for the girls for Christmas, and built it from the foundation up. This was in the garage a few months ago. Case is glad to have given it to the girls now so he can finally work on it in the house. Since Christmas, the house has been here, on the dining room table. It still has a LONG way to go to completion. I hope to post updates as things are done (shingles on, windows installed, electricity, etc.--he jokes this house will end up costing us as much as a full-size one, and I think I believe him).

Daddy and the girls assembling the windows. It is so sweet to me how much he puts into this for them.

Couple weeks ago. Playing play-doh.


Lately, I can let Haley play play-doh and don't have to watch her like a hawk to not eat it. Guess she's finally learned it's not yummy.


Ruby is getting better at fine-motor skills. She did so well rolling and cutting. They were the best "cookies" she's made so far.


This is new, though it may be surprising, since she's 19 months, but Haley is getting really great at feeding herself, even messy things like yogurt. She probably could have done better sooner, but we haven't really let her feed herself such things until recently. It just didn't seem worth the clean-up effort. It may be a small milestone, but it means a LOT to a mommy for baby to feed herself!

Only a couple months ago, this was going on. Claire was thrilled, but it is nice to have Haley independant.

The story behind last week's take-it-all-off haircut? A little trim in the bath by an overzealous mommy. Looked kinda okay when it was wet, but like one of her sisters had done it by morning. I had to go get it fixed (no pics of the oops--didn't even think of it). Interestingly, the one thing I did do just right was trim her bangs, but when I took her in to fix it, they trimmed her bangs much shorter than I would want--I almost stopped them.)

So, she pretty much has to have her hair "done" or wear all pink or something to look like a girl anymore. My babies always get mistaken for boys anyway, and this haircut will not help. Upon expressing this to the hairdresser, one of the other patrons looked over and said, "He's doing such a good job sitting still!" My point was made.

Problem is, Haley being the third and all, I didn't really put clips and bands in her hair much as an infant. And she is totally not used to them, and takes them out right away. We're working on it, but we'll probably have a few more comments in the meantime.


To Ruby's delight, Haley will occasionally let Ruby "baby" her. She'll let her pick her up, rock her, hold her hand. For a time, that is.
Ruby loves this big-sister role.

Recently, I started letting the girls "read" some of their school books. When we first got them, I wanted them to stay mysterious and exciting. They still are. The girls will sit on my bed for many moments, reading away!

Notice Claire's book is upside-down. She has never allowed this to affect her reading.

(And yes, those are p.j.s. And yes, it is probably about 11 a.m. They stayed in them till after naps. And I don't feel guilty about it.)

This was Friday. Actually did some "school." I got the lacing cards out again (they have always been a real frustration to the girls) and for whatever reason, today, the concept clicked with both of them. I have no idea what changed, besides not seeing them for a very long time. I told Ruby it was like dot-to-dot and sewing, and she caught right on. They were so excited, they ran to show daddy what they could do right after dinner. Got them out on their own again today.

The Importance of being Real: a post to myself

Nope. No pictures today either. Whenever I think I have a moment to blog, I then remember that I have yet to download pictures from my camera and then I decide not to blog. So this time, I'm just going to do it.

Life is good at the Cowart Casa. I find myself smiling more and laughing for no apparent reason. This is a good thing, and I'm afraid, not exactly usual this past year. There's something about carrying the weight of responsibility to love, care for, teach and train three little ones as well as the usual daily responsibilities a home-maker has . . . I have found myself under a tremendous burden as of . . . Haley's arrival? Not really sure, but a long enough time. Two of my children are in the throes of "dig-your-heels-in" training mode and life's responsibilities in general have all but sapped me of my energy, joy and drive at times.

However, there are hopeful moments; days where I can see a tiny glimmer that it isn't all a waste. Haley using manners without being reminded, Claire stopping to think before she yowls and gives way to a humongous tantrum, or Ruby coming to me in the kitchen, "What can I do for you, Mommy?" hands already washed, willing to do any task I find for her in my dinner project.

Such a day was today. I asked a lot of them. We took Gram out to breakfast for her 88th birthday (forgot the camera), returned a shirt at Penney's and did our monthly Costco trip. I didn't actually believe we could get it all done, and was completely prepared to ditch the Costco shopping till another day. But they came through, and no one was more surprised than I at how it went. Yes, we had issues. Yes, there were at least a half-dozen fits by a couple girls. Yes, we were all completely worn out by the time we returned home. But the fits were not out-of-control: "We-have-to-leave-now!" They were blips that came and went fairly suddenly (at least for what I'm used to!) and I can say that I actually enjoyed the morning errand-running, and so, I believe, did the girls.

I don't know what my deal is, but I feel as if I'm alone most of the time in my feelings of overwhelmedness. In fact, when I start to see that confused, "I'm not sure I get what you're talking about" look with others, I just go ahead and trail off on whatever I was saying.

I remember back to when I was that young single woman, or that starry-eyed pregnant-with-her-first-sweet-little-baby-with-whom-I-could-never-see-losing-my-temper woman or that woman with one child, and how I probably gave that, "Really?!?" look myself. And then I remember how much I now take comfort in recalling those times when I probably was giving that confused look, and yet that woman continued to be real about her struggles, and I am determined to continue to be real, even though at face value it is under appreciated, and possibly even frowned upon. I may turn a hundred people off by my realness, but if one woman can look back (as I do) and appreciatively remember that it wasn't easy for me either, then I think it is worth it to be real. After all, we are surrounded by people who make it look easy. If we didn't have an example of realness to point to now and then, we may begin to think we are crazy freaks.

In fact, I shudder to think how much more overwhelmed I'd be, were it not for women here and there in my life who gave me a glimpse of the reality of their situations. What kind of encouragement am I being if I keep my struggles to myself and act as if I have none? Yeah, I may look better to others. I may even have the respect of people who otherwise do not respect me. Perhaps even, a person may think I am the one to ask, since I clearly have it all together. But I think more often, a lack of openness breeds more of the same in relationships. And I don't want others to feel as if they cannot be real with me, that I would not understand (which I may not, but I do struggle, too!) and would not be compassionate to their situation.

When I started typing this evening, I did not intend for this to be a pep-talk to myself on the importance of remaining real, but I really do need to remind myself of this, because it is not a celebrated thing--even among Christians, where it should be encouraged (1 John 1:9, James 5:16, Proverbs 28:13).

God is so good, and that is not any less true when I am exuding sinfulness and struggling with my own fleshly desires. He is faithful to complete the work He started, and that is what I need to remember as well. He is my only hope in overcoming my propensity to anger or my critical spirit, my laziness, perfectionism or my tendency to feel guilty about every little thing I do or do not do.

Even though this post has been mainly helpful for me to express, I pray that by posting it, it blesses someone out there who also struggles :) and needs to know she's not alone in so doing.

I Was about to Post This to My Other Blog . . .

But after I finished typing it, I realized it belonged better here. And the post from this morning, which is on this blog, probably better belongs on my birth one. I'm getting confused. But I'm not going to think about it any more.

Plugging away at my Bradley certification. I have a little over a week before the 4 day workshop in Denver. Several people have advised me that the key to success in completing the Provisional Affiliate phase with Bradley is to finish the requirements and turn in the packet on the first day of the workshop so I can begin teaching right away.

Being a procrastinator, for the last four months, I have been lolling my way through a book or two here, a report or two there, and the occasional hospital evaluation. In July, I began to get more purposeful and am now tying up the loose ends (final drafts, tweaking formatting). The strangest thing is that I am not overwhelmed. I just keep plugging away though the work seems to stretch out longer and longer. This is not like me. Perhaps it is because I find the subject matter so interesting and because I am gleefully looking forward to teaching my first class, but I am usually getting pretty stressed by this point, figuring there's no way I'll be able to do it all.

At least that's how it is in my house most of the time. The girls and I have been home today to try to get the house back together, put away laundry, cook 20 pounds of chicken and catch up on dishes. And I've managed to cook the chicken and run a dishwasher load so far, but the house looks no better than it did yesterday. And I'm starting to give up on the "putting the house back together" idea as I sit here for a breather, the day half-over.

Case has been working long hours the last couple weeks. One night last week, he didn't get home till 2 a.m. (then promptly turned around to go back at 7 a.m.). Today, he packed some clothes in case it gets late enough that he should just stay the night. The project they're working on should be done in another month or so.

Funny thing is that though it is not exactly great timing, in some ways it is the perfect timing. He's not home most evenings, which makes it more conducive for me to study and catch up on certification work. And I don't feel as badly if the house is in utter disarray (which it has been more than a few times), since he is not here to see it much. I am able to enjoy some time with the girls during the day, knowing that I have a chunk of time to work on my homework after they go to bed. (Much of my stress, I find, comes from feeling like I'm being prevented from doing what I should be doing. Of course, this would be faulty thinking on my part to feel like my children are "in the way" of me doing my "real work," but it really helps to have time carved out for such a purpose. It doesn't hang over me like a huge weight like it would if I were just trying to fit it in here and there.)

The last few weeks, Case and I have reinstated my weekly "night off," which kinda went by the wayside after about a month of doing it in May. Being able to get away has contributed a great deal to my progress with the reading and reports. Strange how a few hours away from home can make such a dent in a pile of work. Oh, and it also refreshes me to have a break from parenting once in a while. Sometimes, just an hour or two will help me regain the desire to jump back in with newness of purpose and passion. But if it's been too long since I've had a break, as my dear friend has observed, by the time we realize I need a break, I am already "broken." The key is to catch it before it gets that bad. Otherwise I feel like I need a few days away, not just an hour.

Claire and Haley are up and we're going to fold the laundry and cut up and freeze the chicken. Well, maybe just I will.

The Milk People: Another Affirmation That I am Not a "Real" Woman

As part of my requirements for certification with Bradley as a birth instructor, I am to attend two La Leche League meetings. My first one was last week, and yesterday was my next (and presumably last) one.

The form I am to fill out after attending these meetings asks a question: "How can you encourage your students to attend these meetings?" I'm not really sure how to answer that question. I don't think I really "get" why they are important to attend or if the average person would find them beneficial.

It isn't that I think nursing is a breeze by any means. That it is so "natural" that any woman should take to it like a duck to water. Like birth, I believe a woman should read up, take informative class(es) and be prepared for the common challenges of breastfeeding. Education can provide the determination to continue in providing the best thing for baby. Most women I know who have struggled a great deal or stopped before the minimum recommended age have not really been prepared for what to expect and how to overcome difficulties. There are a lot of myths and misconceptions about nursing, some of which I believe cause the most "dropouts" in its regard.

I can see a need for education and preparation. I also acknowledge the importance of a support system. Many women who struggle to breastfeed were not breastfed themselves and do not know any women for whom it has been "successful." This provides a challenge, to be sure. So I think I would recommend that a woman in this situation attend a LLL meeting, even if just to feel more comfortable calling the leader, should questions and concerns arise.

Part of why I don't really get the whole idea of becoming a member of LLL or attending meetings regularly adds to the sneaking suspicion that I am not a "real" woman. There are many things about which I feel this way. I don't enjoy shopping, am not crafty and creative (decorating has never been high-priority in my home), and am "not into makeup and looking my best" (a "compliment" I received in my late teens from a young man as to why he wanted to date me--still cracks me up). Unlike many women who do it as long as I do (which I don't claim to be a long time, especially by LLL standards), I do not love breastfeeding. For me, breastfeeding is a sacrifice I am willing to make in order to give my babies the best start nutritionally.

At these two meetings in the last few days, as well as in reading LLL's book, "The Womanly Art of Breastfeeding," (which, I would readily recommend as a resource for any woman who intends to breastfeed, by the way), I have been struck once again by the thought that I don't fall into the "normal woman" category.

I cannot relate to the woman who touts exclusive breastfeeding's wonderful benefit of a postponed cycle, as the longest I've ever gone without a period after pregnancy has been 4 months, and that I'm guessing had a great deal to do with the fact that Haley was literally attached to me almost all night every night for at least the first couple of those months (not that a postponed cycle was my reason for such nonsense. A not-screaming baby was the real inducement.). Not sure I'd consider it "worth it" enough to do that again. Sleep is just about as wonderful as a postponed cycle, I think. . . possibly better.

Nor do I consider breastfeeding "easy" or "relaxing." There are many times during the first year that I will come away from it feeling abused and exhausted (the "straight-arm" treatment, the kicking, biting, acrobatics, scratching and slapping that is common for at least some of that year). A great deal of training happens while baby is at the breast. And I don't find training peaceful and relaxing.

Unlike many proponents, I don't consider nursing all that convenient. Sure, it has its benefits. (Most of which I probably don't notice since I have never bottle fed.) But there are some drawbacks, too (one cannot exactly nurse while traveling by car, for instance) and there is that responsibility that goes along with the blessing of being the only one that can feed the baby. Since I can't/don't/won't pump (excruciatingly painful, takes forever, barely get anything, and then baby doesn't like the bottle), for the first 4-6 months, I won't leave my baby for more than an hour or so, and logistically, it isn't usually worth the trouble to leave at all. Toward the latter months, that can feel pretty smothering.

The usual challenges I encounter aren't solved by the customary fixes, and in a place like a LLL meeting, I am very alone in feeling the way I do. Like with many "rules" in life, there are always exceptions. I feel like something must be wrong with me since it seems I am the exception to a half-dozen rules in womanhood (pregnancy, labor, breastfeeding). A place like a LLL meeting re-opens all the ways in which I do not feel like a "real" woman, because I cannot relate to the idea that every problem has a simple solution and if there is a difficulty, it is always due to a wrong application.

I still remember being in the hospital the day after I had Ruby, and asking the lactation consultant to please tell me what I was doing wrong, since I found it quite painful to nurse. She observed us for a few minutes and said I wasn't doing anything wrong. As anyone who has taken a breastfeeding class or read a book will remember, the pat answer to the problem of pain in breastfeeding is that you're doing something wrong (improper latch-on, etc.). Yet I was doing it "right" and still experiencing pain. "No," she said. "It's not pain you should be feeling. Just a strong pulling sensation." Well, for her what was pulling was pain to me. And I had it from the horse's mouth: I was doing it right, yet still felt this way. The way you're assured you will not feel if you're doing it right.

And this is what I encounter many times in regard to womanhood. So a question creeps up: if the application isn't wrong, is something wrong with me? Why do I have a hard time telling if I'm in labor or not? Why is (was) it painful to nurse? Why is let-down such an intensely burning sensation, not just a "tingling?" Why do I feel more tender and sensitive, not "leathery" like women describe themselves during the months of nursing? (These three things have generally subsided since the first baby, causing me to think that one day I might know what it's like to be a "real" woman, but they were pretty pronounced that first year.) Why is pumping even that much more painful than nursing? Why does breastfeeding not help me "return quickly to my pre-pregnancy weight"? (If I were to rely on nursing alone, I'd easily have an extra fifty pounds on me with three pregnancies in such a short time.) How did Haley and I get thrush even when none of the contributing factors to its development were true for us? Why does my cycle return so soon when I'm doing the same (and oftentimes more) as women who don't get it for years?

I'm not bitter about these things, just confused. What is the deal? These idiosincracies make me feel like a weirdo woman, but surely there are other women who do not fit into the "normal" box either.

I just don't think they attend La Leche League meetings.

One Year Later, and We've All Survived!

In some cultures, it is customary to have a great celebration on the completion of a baby's first year since it is such a milestone for them to make it to that point. It seems only appropriate that our family celebrate the fact that we are all alive and well at the completion of Haley's first year. We've made it through a year with three preschoolers unscathed! God is so gracious. There were many days this past year (possibly close to half of them!) where I wondered if it would ever get better/easier/less stressful/more enjoyable. It's a little sad that when you have children so close together, the emphasis is more often on surviving than enjoying or thriving; but it is what it is, and God is good nevertheless.

For us, one of the most surprising things we've encountered this year has been how many people don't get that parenting three children three and under is taxing and affects every part of our life. Or that having three children in as many years is very different than having three children over a 6-10 year span. There have been only a few conversations I've had this past year where another mom will acknowledge this, and it is reassuring and refreshing when she does. But for the most part, when I express that, no, I don't . . . (do many errands, jam-pack activities into my week, do much of anything outside my home at all), the usual reaction I get is a perpelxed look from a mom with two little ones or three that are spread apart (a look that says, "Really? Why not?!"). Once in a while I'll have a mom interject, "but mine weren't as close as yours," or nod in understanding when I reply that I really don't make it to the mall to shop clearance sales much nowadays, or that we're not doing that thing since we already have one activity this week.

There have been several well-meaning strangers or acquaintances this past year who have readily advised me, knowing very little of the details and challenges of our situation (which sometimes changes on a minute-by-minute basis!) suggesting I do things this way or that way, since it seems to be a struggle for me to parent and things don't seem to be going very smoothly (which has to mean you're doing something wrong, right?). I have bit my tongue when a completely impractical suggestion is voiced, when I hear a trite, "you should try what so-and-so does. It works well for her" (and I have to remind myself in my head, "but so-and-so has one child"). It can get quite discouraging--even if I acknowledge the impracticality or difference in situation--to have it suggested that struggle is something we shouldn't be experiencing.

Sometimes (well, okay, most of the time) life is just hard and that's all there is to it. We have to prioritize and decide things like: is it more important to have a hopping social life or keep our sanity and a peaceful home? (Which can be a challenge no matter what we cut out). And yes, we do make it harder on ourselves by focusing on training our children, not just having them. Our hope is that the groundwork we lay in these early years will lighten the load of difficulty in later years. Would anyone ahead of me in this please speak to this hope?

Last summer, when we started getting out more after Haley was born, as we left a restaurant, a woman passing us said, "I remember when my three were that little. This is the easy part!" I found that comment severely disheartening. I did not know this woman or what her parenting philosophy was, and that would have been helpful to know in order to process her comment. Could it be that she was the type that just let her kids be and didn't train them or ask much of them until they were older, and that is when parenting became difficult? It isn't that I expect that after age four or five it will be smooth sailing, but I'd love to keep the hope that focusing on the heart and training our children in obedience will simplify and ease the difficulties in years to come. At the very least, I could have stood to hear her acknowledge that having three short ones is no small task, no matter how easy or hard it will get.

A few months ago, I was sitting in a group of four other moms when I was asked, "Didn't you say once that Claire likes to throw tantrums?" I was taken aback for three reasons: one, that it was worded that way--"Likes to." But, well, I couldn't argue. . . if she didn't like to, she wouldn't do it, so I acknowledged that yes, she does indeed like to throw tantrums. The next reason I was surprised was that in all the times that this mom had spent time with or around us (weekly for months), she had never been witness to even one of these very frequent tantrums. After a moment of silence, I proceded to ask the other moms, "Don't your kids throw tantrums?" (This was the other reason I was taken aback. I was truly surprised at their surprise that Claire threw tantrums.) The reply I got was mostly shaking of heads (as in, "no"!!!) One woman, appearing to reach waaaaay back into her memory, mentioned that her child did, once. ONCE!!!

I was floored. I'm still in shock about it. Can it be that in the five families and eleven children represented, mine are the ONLY ONES who have readily thrown tantrums at some point in their short lives? Sure, I would say that right now, we have two--sometimes three--strong-willed children, but as to them being exceptionally willful above the average child at his or her worst? I'm not sure I buy that. I have to wonder if the fact that their children didn't throw fits might have something to do with either their not requiring much of them, or not denying them anything. It is truly perplexing, and, for my own sanity, I filed that one away in the "I don't have enough information to make an assessment about this" file. It still baffles me today.

Well, I don't mean to end this post on such a negative note, but my brain is not cooperating anymore and another wonderful and challenge-filled day is fast approaching. And yes, this would be a very lame "Happy Birthday to Haley" post. I plan to do that in the next couple days, complete with pictures and updates on our precious one-year-old.

Though it may not mean much to most of my readership, I will sign off with a comment that, despite its generally depressing first impression, I found extremely reassuring this week. At Costco, I ran into a family friend who has--eleven? twelve? (I've lost count) children, who, in peering into my cart full of three short people sweetly said, "I remember having three. I remember crying a lot when I had three." Perhaps she remembered how much she needed encouragement back then and wanted to bless me that way. And I am encouraged. Especially when I think of all the other things she could have said ("just wait". . . "three is nothing". . . "three is cake". . . "try having eleven--or twelve") It made me take heart that even a mom of so many remembers the challenges of having a few little ones, and would word it that way (implying, I think, that it may not always be this hard). Dare I hope?

Does Sacrifice Even Begin to Describe It?

Motherhood, if it is done well, involves an insane amount of sacrifice.

Conveniently, (as Mother's Day is tomorrow) I have been recently noticing all the little things my own mother taught and instilled in me decades ago.

As I work with my three little girls, teaching them practical and everyday things, I am reminded of how much my mom poured into me, and how much of an easier transition I had into "real life" than the average girl because of all she taught me.

Take this morning: Ruby is helping me make breakfast and I ask her if she can remember how to mix waffle batter. Ironically, she answers, "Very thoroughly?" and I remind her that we want to mix batter very little so the waffles won't be tough. How do I know this? Because, once upon a time, I was the little girl learning lessons in the kitchen from my mother.

And a little later at the breakfast table: a mini-grammar lesson; explaining why we use the words "may I" or "will you," instead of "can" when we ask for something. I suddenly am struck with how frequently I pass along the little tidbits my mom once taught me. Be it an efficient way of doing something, the right way to apologize, or a Scripture verse set to music, I cannot count the number of times already in their short lives that I have responded to the question, "Who taught you that, Mommy?": "Nana taught me that when I was little."

By God's grace, I have my mom to thank for giving me a head start in every day living. Teaching me to do my own laundry from the time I was barely tall enough to put my clothes into the washer (with big sister helping); walking me through numerous aspects of baby and child care; including me in the cycle of daily chores and requiring that I help make dinner, menu plan and grocery shop, to name a few life skills. (Not to mention the formal education of homeschooling!)

About 10 years ago, as a counselor at a camp for high school and college students, I began to realize what a difference that upbringing made for me. At the front desk, I often had puzzled students in their teens and twenties ask how one goes about doing things like laundry, and it struck me that parents who don't teach their children simple things like this are doing them (and their children's spouses) a disservice. As if going out to the real world isn't hard enough, these parents compound the stress their children experience leaving home by not requiring them to learn simple life skills beforehand. So junior has to not only learn how to make it on his own, but how to do menial tasks that he could have learned and mastered years ago.

So parents who teach their children daily life skills have my respect, naturally. But my mom did so much more than just that. She is probably the most unselfish person I know. By her example she has taught me so much more than how to cook or diagram a sentence or set up a ratio (like that example, Mom?:). Throughout my life, I have seen her faithfully put her own needs (I'm not even talking desires) on the back burner in order to serve her family. Honestly, I have no idea how my parents raised all eight of us without going bonkers, and how my mom made it through those years with so much on her plate. Each day with my three girls gives me a small taste of what it must have been like, and my appreciation for her dedication grows the longer I have the privilege of being a mommy.

I can't end this post without expressing gratitude for another mom: my husband's. Sandy, you raised an amazing young man. Thank you for pouring yourself into your boys with such fervor and love. I am a happy benefactor of your years of hard work. Know that I appreciate you on a daily basis!

Happy Mother's Day, all you moms! Children don't always voice it, but we are indeed grateful for all your sacrifice and dedication. May God make all of us moms worthy of the task He's entrusted to us.

Link for Moms of Three Short Ones

Until I had my third baby, I really didn't feel a severe need to find other moms to relate to. Whether women had yet to have children or had many mattered little to me as far as friendship or conversation. After the birth of Haley, I began to deal with many things, not for the first time, but in a different capacity, and began to strive to find more women who could relate in some way to the situations in which I found myself.

Enter the internet. As any mom of tiny ones can attest to, the internet is one of the most amazing inventions for stay-at-home-moms! It allows me to stay connected and have adult conversation, sometimes even every day, and sometimes even deep conversations! Without the internet, I believe I would be in a corner, babbling and drooling along with my 8-month-old by now. There is just so little opportunity or time for meanigful adult interaction in this season of life.

What I have found especially refreshing is a few blogs that I've discovered where the women are down-to-earth and don't put on airs or give the impression that they are pretending to be something they are not. I discovered one of these such blogs last fall, and lo and behold, the woman had just had her third baby a few months after I had had Haley. There is so much encouragement to be had by reading something that someone else wrote that I can relate to in so many ways. It is validating to read someone else saying it, as opposed to trying to express it myself (as my confused non-mom friend looks on with furrowed brow and nods obligatorily).

Not that I don't appreciate these friends. I believe it is especially helpful to have friends in different seasons, like I had when I was single and newly married. In fact, I believe my mothering, homemaking and wife-ing would suffer even more, were it not for all the time spent since childhood with women in different stages of life. On both sides, it can be very good. The single friend can be so helpful in ways a married-with-children friend cannot, and let's just say that spending an afternoon with a mom and her lots-o-tots can be quite eye-opening and helpful for the single or married-without-children friend! I know, and my eyes continue to be opened as I remember back to my single days and times spent with my friends-with-children these many years later. (I believe, were I to go back, I would not raise my eyebrows quite as much as I did then. ;)

But there is just something about that woman who can relate on so many levels with my same struggles. Her mutual struggle and similar situation makes me that much more apt to think of her as my friend, though we may never have met. (Casey likes to call these blog people my "imaginary friends," and he's right, to some extent, because they are by far more my friend than I am thiers. Some don't even know who I am!)

One of the blogs that I will periodically stop by has a really good post today. One that comforted and encouraged me. If you are a mom of small children, you, too, may be heartened by her post. And if you do not have three, or even one child, it may be a good post to read in order to prepare or relate to friends who are mothers. I pray either way, you will be encouraged by this woman's transparency.