Dear Husband Who Said My Day Didn’t Sound Too Bad

October 1, 2012 Lindsey P. Brackett2 Comments

Dear Husband Who Said My Day Didn’t Sound Too Bad,

I know you didn’t mean to scoff last night in the kitchen when I was sitting on the couch nursing our sick baby for the umpteenth time that day and telling you how busy my day was going to be tomorrow. You didn’t really mean it when you said that it didn’t sound too bad. I know you spend all day with people’s financial lives in your hands and help contemplate futures and make decisions that impact far beyond our little family circle, but still, surely you didn’t mean to imply that my day would be any less hectic.

But just in case you did, I wanted you to know that so far it’s only 11:15 and we’ve done nothing that was on our original schedule.

Sure I got the big girls to school in the pouring rain despite a screaming baby, but Gus’s cough meant we skipped my morning workout though an hour later I still bundled him and sissy monster Millie into the car to go work a childcare shift that was cancelled by the time I got there. In the meantime I had a tantrum with the kids’ healthcare provider which successfully got me a chat with a supervisor and the assurance that the girls would be getting coverage this month in time for me to take Madelynne for her 8 year check up. Oh, and I called the pediatrician’s office and will be skipping Amelia’s nap to take Gus to make sure his cough isn’t RSV. Amelia, by the way, is already on meltdown #3 and could really use that nap, but we’re leaving in a minute to help out with the birthday party that got moved from the park to a home since it’s still raining. The bathrooms have been cleaned (yes, both of them!) and the ground beef is thawing for dinner. There’s laundry in the wash (ours not theirs for once) and Gus has been fed again and is napping finally. I paid for the aforementioned insurance and made a grocery list. I took a shower, too, a major accomplishment when I’m home alone with a toddler who thinks her brother is a toy.

By the time you get back home, dinner will be started, spelling words will be reviewed, and somebody else will probably have cried. I still have a Bible study to finish, a birthday to celebrate, a doctor to visit, and at some point, I thought I’d eat lunch.

If the baby doesn’t wake up first.

How’s your day been?

From blog buttons

1000 gifts · amelia · gus · http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008/kind#post · madelynne · monday · motherhood

When 365 Makes a 180

September 24, 2012 Lindsey P. Brackett1 Comment

One year ago, I was trapped by the daunting realization of motherhood times four.
Today I gave up my early morning sleep to listen to that baby boy squeal all up and down his tenor range while attacking the bumper in his cradle.

One year ago, I forced joy at my daughter’s seventh birthday, and then cried in her daddy’s arms because now I would forever mark the day I first became a mother with the day I realized I didn’t think I could do it again.
Today we’re five days into being eight and a whole year into mothering four (because it all starts at conception) and she’s still the greatest teacher of grace I have.

One year ago, I was overwhelmed by the “I don’t haves” of financially-strapped stay-at-home life.
Today I revel in the moments I’m present for because I’m not heading out our door at breakneck speed to continue a life that gave us less than what we have now.

One year ago, either daddy or I read bedtime stories each night.
Last night, Madelynne read Jesus to him, Annabelle read Hop on Pop (my favorite Dr. Seuss) to anyone who was listening, and Amelia brought me Cat in the Hat to read to her and nursing Gus.

One year ago, I was finding joy in the small, silly moments of life with three daughters.
Now, I’m seeking joy everyday in the random, grace-filled moments of motherhood.

….baby Gus chewing his blankets
….the way his face lights up when I come in the room
….Amelia’s swirly hair that is the envy of all her aunts even when I haven’t brushed it in a couple of days
….Madelynne’s delight in having her own space
….the way Annabelle talks about her teachers, this year Mrs. B is the authority on everything
….trying to teach selflessness and failing and realizing that perhaps the best teacher will be the act itself, so today I’ll be calling the local soup kitchen and setting up to take the big girls to volunteer
….trying to get the Word into their heart and realizing I need to put more of it into my own first
….is it irony that the best view of the pre-dawn sky is out my bathroom window?
….regretting that I was so negative for so much of my pregnancy, but thankful that despite all my shortcomings, being honest and open about that struggle has blessed others whose story is similar
….so much joy in hearing of so many friends who are walking this journey of parenthood right along side us…especially my dear friend who isn’t facing a NICU on this go round but should deliver a healthy full-term baby boy soon!

Linking up with Miscellany Monday and A Holy Experience this morning. Now it’s off to pour some cereal and tag some consignment. Blessings!

motherhood · thankful Thursday

Why Yes, I am "Just" a Mom

September 13, 2012September 30, 2015 Lindsey P. Brackett2 Comments

In the past year, ever since I resigned my teaching position and became a full-time stay-at-home-mom I’ve had an identity crisis. I used to tell people I was a teacher. Actually, I used to tell people I was a middle school reading teacher and then laugh and accept the humbling praise that inevitably came along with telling anyone that I was choosing, willingly, to spend all day long with a bunch of fresh teenagers whose hormones controlled their every mood.

Then I started staying home with my almost two year old. And, I’ll confess, it was a little hard to introduce myself to people as just a mom.

For some reason that phrase carries a tinge to it that feels indulgent. Shameful, almost. No, I couldn’t hack it as a full-time employee outside my home, so instead I chose to stay here. And instead of sarcastic teenagers, I get screaming toddler.

Sure, it’s an even trade. So why did I have a hard time admitting that it’s what I do, it’s what I’m proud of, it’s who I am, and what I’m called for?

Because sometimes people just don’t quite get it. There’s almost a martyrdom associated with being a mom who works and still does everything (and sometimes more) than I do in a 24-hour period. I know women who admit that working makes them a better mom, makes them appreciate their children more, makes them value the time they have.

But I wasn’t one of them.

I wanted to build a home at home. Each day. Every day. All the time. Well, occasionally, I like a break. But, generally, I wanted to be here, not there.

Yet, I held myself back from embracing that identity. For so long, I have been a teacher, a coach, a mentor. I’m good in the classroom. I’m confident and interesting and probably too arrogant. I know what I’m doing. I know which books to put in the hands of reluctant readers and how to analyze test data and when to introduce complex-compound sentences.

But I don’t want to do it anymore. And I may not ever want to do that again, at least not full-time. Knowing this used to scare me. I felt like I was losing a bit of who I had always been.

But something’s happened to me in the past few weeks. Somehow, I’ve started to see who I really am and who I want to really be and where my heart is right now.

And there should be no shame in that.

This is what He’s called me to. This tiny home that’s full to bursting with laughter and tantrums and garden tomatoes and birthday parties and nursery furniture and baby dolls.

So, hi. My name is Lindsey. I’m a wife. A mother. A homemaker. I work everyday, all day, all night too. Just like every other mother in this world. I know where to find lost shoes, how to get ketchup stains out of white shirts, when to give Tylenol for a fever, and what’s on the menu for dinner. I coordinate MOPS and help with AWANA and attend Community Bible Study. This fall I’m going to garden with first graders and volunteer with preschoolers. I write a little bit about being a mom and raising girls. I’m learning what it’s like to have a boy and how to appreciate quiet and revel in noise. I’ve been a mom for almost eight years, but I’m just now really starting to slow down and enjoy it.

Who are you?

linking up with Julia today because I am so grateful that THIS is what I do.

monday · motherhood · school

What Three Weeks Can Bring

September 10, 2012 Lindsey P. BrackettLeave a comment

Three weeks is long enough. Or short enough as the case may be.

I just spent three weeks as a sub over on the other side of the county at the middle school that was the arch rival for the place where I used to spend most hours of my day.

And after only three weeks, I am learning to embrace new notions about myself as an educator…but mostly I have discovered new ideas about myself as a mom.

Days move more quickly when you’re out the door with the sun and begging for bed instead of lingering over one more blog, one more episode on Netflix, one more cup of coffee.

Days are long enough, however, for those babies I left at home to change and grow and become when I’m not there to see it.

Did you know it only takes six days of preschool for a two year old to learn to sing the ABC song and that age-old classic about the bumblebee?

It only takes three weeks for a baby boy to outgrow my favorite sleeper with the zipper.

Over three weeks that same baby boy might cut a tooth. Or two, prompting this mama to rummage for baby books to confirm that, yes, he is three months ahead of his sisters’ chomping timelines.

In three weeks sixth graders come to believe that the sub is their teacher and they look at me a little skeptically when I announce she’ll be back on Monday.

Three weeks can drain a checkbook when mama is too tired to cook and AWANA starts in less than an hour and dance got out late and McDonald’s is just too easy.

But not too good unless it’s a mocha frappe after a hard day’s work.

Three weeks taught this mama that planning is essential, menus are a necessity, and hands-free pumping can be achieved.

But it’s pumping nevertheless, and I’d rather just nurse.

Because three weeks taught me ultimately that I’d rather stay home than have a fancy house or a new car or a mocha frappe everyday.

Some things aren’t worth missing, even for only three weeks.

linking up with Carissa today…

Friday Five · motherhood · school

Stretched Between

August 18, 2012 Lindsey P. BrackettLeave a comment

Stretch is the prompt…

In so many ways, it’s all the same. Desks in rows and newly sharpened pencils and stacks of kleenexes and way too much paperwork.

But the feet in Toms or neon Nikes belong to children I don’t know, have no connections with, will only be here long enough to barely know before their real teacher returns. They slouch or hide behind their hair or sit and stare at me with eyes big as I welcome them to their first days of middle school and tell them how many days they will have to know me.

I get up too early but not early enough to fix the breakfasts and brush their hair and take the first day picture. My throat catches when I climb into the minivan alone to drive away and let their daddy load them up all four for first grade and second grade and Mimi’s house.

There I’m in control, the teacher, the confident one who could do this with on the fly and make it seem planned. I console tears and fright and lost schedules and mix ups. I breathe relief at the end that this classroom isn’t mine and I can give it back in only a few short weeks.

Here I stretch to make it all work. The backpacks and lunches and laundry and supper and preschool Open House and all the times that I am mommy.

Even when I’m not there.