Be still and Hold on, friends

Be still

🌟 When the world feels too heavy and impossible, there is One who knows our burdens and wants to bear them.

🌟 When our daughter died at 18 weeks gestation, so much changed about our family. We were now a family with a daughter and sibling in heaven. We were faced with many awkward questions about how many kids we have and how it feels to only have one girl. (We are blessed with one living daughter and 4 living sons) Jokes about being outnumbered and feeling sorry for our living daughter for being the only girl. It goes on and on.

🌟But, the one constant was and is Jesus. Were we angry with the Lord? Yes. Did we question Him? Yes. Where was He when He was supposed to be “knitting Mary-Linda together” in her mother’s womb? We serve a Big God and He can not only handle our anger, questions and pain, but He wants to bear it for us.

🌟Remember that today and always. When things seem dark, know that the light is near. Hold tight. You are loved.

How Do You Get Your Kids to do that?

If I’ve been asked once, I have been asked a thousand times. How do you get your kids to …fill in the blank? Examples are: eat vegetables, eat a variety of foods, try new things, sleep in, talk early, be so verbal, perform in front of people, participate in activities they don’t want to do (at first), stay in an activity that they asked to sign up for, but now want to quit and so on?

Nearly ALL of the answers involve presenting options to our kids, being an example and talking, talking, talking. Many times the ultimate choice is theirs. For example, I will never force them to eat something which they have decided not to eat. However, I won’t let them quit an activity we have already committed to. 

I’m going to spend the next few posts diving in to our family culture and telling stories. These are not meant to be formulas for you to follow in order to get your kids to behave a certain way. Believe me when I say, I do not have this parenting thing figured out. I don’t think I ever will. But, I do have a lot of kids (ages 16 months all the way to 15 years), with one special needs child and a lot of experience. I’m going to share more about our family and how our family experiences have shaped our kids. Right or wrong, we all have cultures in our families. It’s good to reflect on what those are and see where we can change or further explore the cultures we have developed as a family. 
Brussel Sprouts

Oh the Momma Drama

I wrote this in December, just before Christmas. I’m sharing it now as the drama (always) continues. 
xoxo, El Momma

It’s been an interesting few weeks (months) around the El House. One up followed by a down followed by an up and on and on. You get the picture.

The biggest weight that we have been carrying is my dad’s health. He’s been in and out of the hospital for the last few months. It’s been hard. Thankfully, he seems to have turned a corner, he’s in a rehab facility and we are hopeful he will be strong enough to go home soon.

So, that brings me to my “Momma Drama” and breakdown of the day.

Let’s set the scene.

First, our school district sends out a district wide phone message notifying all the parents of a “threat of violence” (that appears to be uncredible) last night. Our school responds swiftly with closing the campus to all visitors. At this point, I feel sad that we’ve come to this, but I am okay.
We make it to school fine and all of our children are in the building safely. We decide to have breakfast nearby, just in case we are needed quickly. All is calm and well. My husband goes to work and I begin working from home. I decide I am going to exercise today “no matter what” and I pick out a power yoga class that I will absolutely attend. (I promise myself again!) I head to the back of my vehicle to put something in it and run a quick errand on my way to yoga. I see my kindergartner’s lunch box in the back and start driving to the school, since it’s already his lunchtime by then. (they have lunch super early in the day) I am about to turn on the road to our school when my phone rings and it is the school calling. I hear an automated recording which identifies itself as the “attendance office” and notifies me that “your student, Trinity…El…is absent today….” My heart sinks. “Don’t panic,” I tell myself. I end the call and find the school on my phone and call the front office. I calmly identify myself and tell them what happened. They ask me to hold as I pull up to the school. She returns to the phone to apologize and inform me that it was just an error. “Trinity is here.” The thoughts that ran through my head (in what was only a few seconds) were terrifying. All I wanted was to hold my sweet girl. To tell her I love her. To cherish her. I walked into the school and left Leeland’s lunch with a note. I got a quick hug from one of my babies’ teachers and I left to run the errand I still had to run, on my way to yoga.

So, I get to the monogram shop (the errand). I’m picking up our Christmas pajamas. They were being monogrammed and I had all of them ready, except for Moustapha’s (dad). I tried with him. I even ordered a pair of “men’s pajamas” from zulily to match the kids. And, the men’s pajamas I ordered were actually a child size medium. UGH! So, I finally resolve to just have a red tshirt monogrammed to match our pajamas. I had dropped off all of the other pajamas the week prior and I was given a firm timeline to return with Moustapha’s pjs or no monogram by Christmas. This was, of course, that final day. The sign on the door read “no more monogram orders before Christmas. All orders from this point forward will be ready after Christmas.” I totally ignored that and went in, picked up my 5 items and laid out Moustapha’s shirt and told the sweet lady behind the counter what I needed. She, very sweetly told me that it would be ready after Christmas. I replied with the information she gave me last week. She said she was sorry, but there was nothing she could do. That’s when I began to cry.

All the “stuff” that had been brewing and bubbling the last few weeks, came pouring out…all over the monogram lady. She stood there and listened to me…then she began to share her story and her “stuff” that had been brewing and bubbling began to come out. We were a sight. And, in the middle of it all, without talking about it, she filled out a new order form for me and promised me a monogrammed pajama top for my hubby before Christmas.

This is the stuff, people. This is real life. It’s sometimes messy and confusing and sad. And, sometimes it’s really really great.  PS. Yes, I made it to yoga.