Stuff to Do

I love this photo. On several levels. First, I love the blurriness of it, because to me it looks like one of those dream sequences. Combined with the light of the setting sun, it emphasises to me the fleeting nature of this particular moment. It makes their curls look almost like halos. Second, I love that they just look happy, for no other reason than the huge pile of dirt they're sitting on. Finally, this is my children as they truly are. Not all primped and polished, with matching outfits and perfectly groomed hair. This is what happiness looks like for them - filthy, skinned knees, grubbby hands and faces, wild hair, and a smile. I wish I had even a part of their imagination, which looks at a pile of dirt and sees so much more. It's times like this moment when I think I might burst, from loving them so much. Dirt and all. XOXO, Sarah

It's a blurry photo, but it's my bathroom mirror covered in handprints. Every day I clean it, and every night, at teeth-brushing time, C climbs up on the vanity, resting her hands on the mirror, insistent that she can do it herself. These handprints represent a growing sense of confidence and independence that warms my heart. Someday, they won't be there, and I'll miss them. So for now, I don't mind so much. In fact, as the title of this post indicates, I love them. What do you love today? To find out what others are loving today, visit The Diaper Diaries . XO, Sarah

I know I’ve been a bit sickly sweet/gushing over how amazing life is with three children, I’ve got loads of energy, I feel like a superhero, yada yada yada. Lest everyone (all 10 of you who read this blog) think that there’s something wrong with me for never having a crap kind of day, I thought I’d write this post – not to complain, but to maybe paint a more realistic picture of the other side of blissful motherhood. Today: I have been spewed on. I have nearly lost my voice from shouting. I have been ignored. I have lost my temper too many times to count (see above thing about shouting) I have picked up the same toys over and over and over again. I have shopped with three children – one strapped to my chest, two in the shopping trolley. Truth be told, this was the easiest part of the day – except for the part about staying in my budget. I have folded and put away so much laundry my head is spinning. I have cried out “God, please make it all stop” a few times. I have been impatient, irr

So I set up those tabs, one for a page about my family, one about my cooking adventures, and one about my faith - not realising that they aren't regular pages which can be added to. So it looks like unless I'm an HTML genius, which I am NOT, I'll just have to make those pages an ongoing list of links to the main page, where you'll find posts on said topics. Confused? Good. Moving on then. The visit with our family was fab, naturally - it became an inpromptu Grand Final footy party, with all the requisite finger foods, noise, laughter, and chaos. Our girls aren't used to staying up so late, and it was indeed a very late night for them, from which they are still recovering (read: tired and cranky). I think we've cracked the mystery of why they won't go to bed at night. Truth be told, it wasn't that hard to figure out. They're ready to drop their daytime naps. C is a bit tougher to crack, as even when she's exhausted (like last night for example), s

I don’t have much exciting news to report these days. Unless of course, your idea of entertainment is waking up and changing pooey nappies in the middle of the night, or investigating just where that pair of jeans could possibly be, or endless fixing of snacks and drinks which creates endless dirty dishes. It’s exciting to me, and I’m very, very, very happy (and tired!). But I could totally understand why it might not be exciting to others. C is at preschool today, and it’s just P, M, and me. Slowly working my way out from the one end of the house to the other, making clean spots among the mess, until I have no more mess. But very slowly. I thought I might try and take the two girls for a walk today, to get some cupcake supplies. Not that I need to be eating cupcakes, mind you – but I thought it would be something fun to do with the girls. M is sleeping, and I’m just having a rest from work. Morning tea break, I suppose you could call it. P just came to me and announced “I done poop

I’ve been a little busy. My waters broke unexpectedly, starting a chain of events that ended in the birth of our third daughter, M. I was in hospital for a week, and was taken care of by many lovely midwives, nurses, and doctors. We came home on Wednesday, and I’ve been taken care of by my husband and his mum, which has allowed me to ease back into life. Friends have offered help in various ways, such as transporting C to and from preschool, advice, comfort, meals, PRAYER!!!, and just plain old company, which does wonders for this weary soul. My husband has been amazing in so many ways, but especially in his eagerness to help out with more domestic things. The fact that he is willing to do these things takes off that bit of pressure, and means that as and when I’m able to do it, I can – but don’t feel like I HAVE to. So I’m recuperating well, and so far don’t feel too overwhelmed. Just thankful to see my little? family completed, and enjoying each moment. Even the ones filled with poo,

A truckload of laundry and mopping, with some baking (chocolate chip macaroons) thrown in for good measure. Showers are optional (and highly unlikely) at this point, which means that my hair is like a cross between Justin Bieber and Kristina Keneally (if either of those two were a stay at home mum with roots and gray hairs, that is). I’m trying to be optimistic about how today is going to go. This morning has not started smoothly though, and I gotta say – it’s putting a damper on things. C woke up at 6:30 with a massive sneeze, declaring “I need a tissue”. I sent her to get a tissue from the kitchen, and she went directly to her room (she was sleeping with us), opened the door, and woke up her sister. Once they’re both awake, there is no turning back, cupcake. You’re awake, like it or not. Next, it was whinging about the way I prepared her breakfast. She ate it without complaint, but whined and cried the whole time I was making it. I take that back, she did have a moment over the fact

You know, I’m like my dad. Always have been. I’m tenacious, which at times has been such a good quality to have. At other times, not so much. When a situation isn’t working, I tend to be oblivious, and continue pressing on with it, until it’s a big fat mess. I continue on with things long past the point when it would have been reasonable, nay intelligent, to quit. Like when I wouldn’t quit the Navy despite regular and unexplained chest pain and elevated (220 plus) heart rates during exercise, because I couldn’t bear to have people pity me. I wanted so desperately to succeed, that I was willing to sacrifice my own health and well-being to do it. Like when I tried to continue my life as normal after having my second child. That didn’t work out so well. Like when I get completely bent out of shape because things aren’t perfectly clean, and lose it because “No one cleans up after themselves!!!” Like when the girls are wound up and won’t go to sleep and instead of sorting out the prob

Last night, as I was drifting off to sleep, I was going through all the items there are to accomplish today. And it’s a formidable list, to be sure. I started to get a bit overwhelmed, and started wondering how the heck I was going to get it all accomplished, and pre-emptively feeling like a failure because I knew I wouldn’t get through it all. And then the codeine took over, and I slept. Until 2am, when C pounded on her door and called out “Mommy!” For the record, there was no intruder, she was just cold. Probably because she took off her socks and kicked off the covers. So we swapped places, and I slept in her bed, she snuggled up with L, and we resumed our sleep. But then this morning, I read this devotion, and what it said to me was that I need to serve like I’ve been saved. Which I have. In a huge way! Think about it – if someone saved your life, you’d be pretty much eternally grateful to them. You’d want to show them how appreciative you are. And God has saved me from the life

Since I’m not quite well enough to praise God in church today, I will praise Him from home. By making every effort to excel at the mission which He has called me to. Caring for my family and home. By loving them in word and deed. With all that is in me. In serving them, I am serving Him. May I strive to do that all the days of my life. XOXO, Sarah

I’ve been kind of quiet lately, I know. Everything is okay, I just haven’t felt like writing. And this morning, I’m in rather a foul mood, so probably shouldn’t write anything, lest I sound ungrateful. I am aware of my many blessings, and I am extremely thankful. This is a season. I will not always be pregnant, I will not always have such small children, and someday (dare to dream?) I will get more than 2 hours of consecutive sleep. Someday my sugar bowl will remain on the kitchen counter unmolested. Someday I will wear clothing that isn’t stained, ripped, or the wrong size. Someday I will smell nice (in the meantime, thank the Lord for perfume!). Someday, I will no longer need to know whether my children have pooped. And I will look back on this season, and my memory will be fuzzy. The stress and frustration I feel now will be forgotten. Until then, you’ll have to excuse me because I hear the sugar bowl in the lounge room. Sigh... XOXO, Sarah

So a remark was made last night, and I took it personally. In reality, it wasn’t personal. But in my hormonally-overwrought state, I overreacted. And spent a good hour last night sulking and crying, thinking of how unfair it all was. And then this morning, as I began to write out my to-do list, those feelings returned with a vengeance. And I prayed for God to help me to serve my family without anger or resentment today. To help me WANT to serve them. To enjoy serving them, and by serving them, serving Him. Then I turned to today’s devotional – The title? (I am SO not making this up!) “It’s Not Fair!”. The context was a bit different, but the message was crystal clear. As I read the daily readings, and did my Bible study for today, I began to feel the dark cloud of worldly gloom lift, and although my to-do list is still quite impressive, I’m only focusing on one task at a time. That’s all I can do anyway. I mean, without a live-in maid, a house elf, or a couple of extra hours in the day

8am - Guess what I learned yesterday? Doing a big shop with both girls is no longer an option for me. I was having all kinds of crazy Braxton-Hicks last night, blurry vision, unbelievably tired, mentally vague, and I just felt off all over (like I was 39 weeks pregnant, and not 26). Still do. Ugh. Apparently there IS a limitation to my superpowers. And today’s devotion? About asking for help? Yeah – message received, Lord. If only that had been yesterday’s devotional topic. Anyway, I’ve asked my good friend to pick C up and take her to preschool, and hopefully I’ll get a big fat nap in, and feel a bit better by this afternoon. At any rate, I’ve got to make her lunch for preschool, and put on some laundry on, because I’m out of clean clothes again. Sigh. I’ll continue this a bit later, and let you know how I’m progressing through the day. 1:20pm – After a nap, I actually feel worse. But life goes on, right? I’ve not done a lick of housework today, so things are at best, untidy. At worst

I read John 15 today, and it occurred to me that as I’ve been getting more and more tired, stressed, angry, and resentful, I’ve been following this particular instruction less and less. Coincidence? I think not. It’s been so easy to fall off this wagon. But I don’t like the person I’m becoming without God’s word imprinted daily on my heart. So though I’m weary, though I’m worn, I will reach up for His hand, and allow Him to lift me back to a higher place through His strength, not my own. And today’s devotion was about perseverance. The context for me is completely different, but I think it still applies. Motherhood, domesticity, wifehood – it’s really, really, really hard. Housework is endless, and at the end of the day, when the children are in bed, it looks a bit like someone has broken into our house. I heave a deep sigh, dig in, and clean it all up. Again. That takes perseverance. Cleaning something that you KNOW will be dirty again. Picking up toys that you’ll undoubtedly pick up

And a fresh, new start. Thankfully, there are only a couple of errands to run today, and after we drop off C at preschool, we will take care of them. I need to take my receipt from the doctor to the medicare office for the rebate, then go to the grocery store for our fortnightly shop. The rest of the day can be spent here at home, in a state of domesticity that's almost scary. I read the Bible passage today about putting on the full armour of God, and it really resonated with me. Each morning, I need to put on that suit of armour, to be ready for the day. Without it, I am defenseless, and naked. Vulnerable to whatever the world throws at me. I particularly love the imagery of this particular passage, especially as it applies to my life as a stay-at-home wife and mother. Now I've got to dash, as I've got kids to dress, a lunch to pack, and the rest of my armour to put on, and I've left it a bit late. XOXO, Sarah

by being a mother, of course! I think I've been looking at Mother's Day all backwards. See, I thought it would be a day off for me. Free of cleaning, cooking, poopy diaper changing, involving lots of sleeping, drinking cups of tea, putting my feet up while everyone else catered to my every whim. That is not exactly how it happened. What I'm trying to say is that Mother's Day, for me, is about celebrating my family, exactly as they are. Because they're mine, and what a wonderful gift they are to me. :) I wouldn't say no to a nap though... Thank you to my amazing husband who bought me a camping stretcher so I didn't have to sleep on the ground while camping last week. Thank you to my beautiful children, C, P, and M - for giving me so much 'mothering' to do. :) I love you all, and I hope that all you mothers out there have a very special day. XOXO, Sarah

This is the end of the story that explains how I got to here, but it is not the end of my story. Where I go from here is up to me. June 13, 2003 - I receive a response to my personal ad. I was about to cancel the service, as I was in fact dating someone, and while I had a nagging feeling that he wasn't right for me, I thought that perhaps he was as good as I'd get. He treated me well enough, so maybe that was enough. Ironically, that was the exact same mistake I made with my first husband. When I got this email though, I felt as though I had to meet this guy. So we emailed back and forth, and that same day, I agreed to meet him at a local Starbucks coffee shop. I guess I wanted to get it over with quickly - why waste more time getting to know someone online who is altogether different in real life? So we met. And that first meeting lasted like 7 hours. We talked, talked, and talked some more. We talked about our past, we talked about what we wanted in a future, we talked about

in which I made perhaps the most painful decision of my life, and lived to tell the tale. I went to university. Because that's what you're supposed to do after high school, and the alternative was to stay at home and get a 'real' job. So I went to Indiana University of Pennsylvania. I wanted to pursue a career as a singer, but two out of three parents didn't believe in me enough to encourage that. And when someone keeps telling you you're not good enough, you believe them. So I went to university, to pursue a music education degree. It was a mistake. It wasn't what I wanted, and I was terrible at it. Then came the events that led to That Day. I was home on summer break, and looking forward to going back for a summer session to try and repeat a couple of classes so I could go back in the fall. I remember I had pitched a tent out in the yard and 'camped out' with my older little brother (I think he would have been 3 at the time). Early in the morning,

Sit down - this could take a while... I don't often talk about my past. It's a large part of who I am, but I don't want it to define my future. So I don't often share the details with people. Maybe because I don't want them to feel sorry for me, I don't know. But maybe because I'm reflecting on motherhood so much lately, I feel like the time has come to share some background with y'all. I've chosen to do this in two (or more?) parts, because it's just too much for me to think about this late at night. So here's part one. Comfy? Good. Here we go... I grew up in a small town. My parents were drug addicts and alcoholics. I am blessed with a very sketchy memory of my early childhood. I remember bits and pieces, but most of what might have been negative seems to be missing from my memory. I remember spending happy times with my cousins, I remember going to church, to Vacation Bible School, singing in the kids' choir at church, and other little

I've never been much of a morning person. Until recently, I couldn't speak coherently until about 4pm. But slowly, steadily - a change has been creeping over me. I would still cherish the occasional sleep-in, don't get me wrong! But I look forward to morning with an enthusiasm that could only be considered bizarre. And that's without a giant cup of coffee, mind you! The only thing I do differently now is to start my day with God. I get up, make C some breakfast, grab a cup of tea, and sit down to start my daily devotion time. What I look forward to more than anything is reading God's word. And I think that's why I now love mornings. After that daily injection from the Lord, I feel as though I can move mountains. So I start my tasks with vigor, instead of dread. I still can't say I love to clean the kitchen, but I like that as I do it, I am praising God. I like the notion that everything I do, I want it to be an act of worship. Worshipping by scrubbing toil

Plans are good. But you should always be ready to chuck them out the window and start over. Because life? Yeah, it doesn't always go to plan. Yesterday I woke up, I had a plan. There was certainty in how my day would go. I would do X,Y,Z - and my day would go 1,2,3. Enter sick children here. Add P, who just wants to be held, C who can and will find her own entertainment if I am busy with P, and it results in more chaos and mess than I started with. The hardest part was in letting go of my plans, and letting the day unfold as it would. I stubbornly tried to persist in my plan, to power through, as it were. And it fell apart. I think when I came into the room as C was emptying my bookshelf, and then she showed me her latest carpet masterpiece (honey??), I cried out to Lord. Literally, which she responded to by saying "Mommy, you don't say that - you say "Praise the Lord!" - it's something I've taught her to say instead of Oh. My. God. She's not quite ol

I've got a to do list that's a mile long. I've got two sick, cranky, kids who are Riverdancing on my last shred of sanity. I've got a house that was astonishingly clean two days ago, and today looks like the 'before' on an episode of Clean Sweep. None of it matters, because of the most important thing I do have. My hope in Jesus Christ. That one thing is so big, so bright, so all-encompassing, that the other things kind of fade away. That's not to say I don't have to deal with them, but rather that when I do deal with them, I'll be marching into battle behind the mightiest General who ever lived. I can almost identify with the Israelites marching around the walls of Jericho. And like those Israelites, I will conquer the mountain of tasks, the supreme irritability of my children, and even the mess that has invaded my home. With faith in a mighty God, with His love, and His perseverance. Life is hard, but God? Is so very faithful. And because of that,

That's all I can do. For starters, I'll finish this update and then walk away from the computer for the day. Because I'm up to my eyeballs in snot, fevers, medicine, and attitude, and will only get frustrated if I try to do anything that doesn't involve giving my undivided attention to my girls today. We have to go to the chemist, for more sick people supplies, and I'm not looking forward to it. Especially, my wallet isn't looking forward to it. Why do children's medicines have to be so expensive??? Anywho, we'll also combine that with a trip to the grocery store, so I can get things for dinner. Or we might just have pizza, since it's cheap pizza night at the local pizza chain. Last night was interesting. C was really feverish - 39.3 (102.7), and after stacking two different fever reducers, it finally came down. But she was having fever dreams, so she was really restless. P went to bed okay, but woke up with a fever 38.2 (100.7), and after some spong

This post is coming to you from my house. Where I will be spending church today. You see, my girls are not well, and as I take them to church by myself, and I'm pretty sure there's no creche today, I will not be taking them. So my Sunday worship service today will look a little different to normal. First off, I'm wearing pajamas. Second, I probably won't have a quiet time of prayer this morning. Instead, I'll be mentally thanking God for my two precious girls, and praying to the sounds of The Muppet Show. Third, I will not be able to share a time of fellowship with my fellow believers. Instead, I'll be sharing fellowship with my girls, which may or may not take the following form: nose-wiping, cuddles, kisses, scolding, dvd-changing, singing, playing pretend, or sleeping. My time of reflection on God's word will likely be accompanied by a soundtrack of sweet voices, crying voices, cartoon voices, demanding voices, whimpery voices, and will more than likely b

I have a to-do list that is a mile long. And the motivation to get through it. But I'm very, very tired. After yesterday's shopping debacle, and some whopping "Hey-you-idiot-sit-down-and-RELAX" Braxton Hicks contractions, I'm sort of over the flurry of activity. So today, instead of rushing through the list in order to get to the end of it, I'll just take my time with one task until it's finished. No Herculean efforts, no getting winded - just slow and steady. It kind of goes against my natural process, but I think it will be better for me - and the baby. Been reading about the Samuel/Saul/Jonathan/David scenario, and I have to say that I feel sorry for Saul. Sure, he was arrogant and paranoid, and yes, he did try to kill David. But in his heart he knew it wasn't right. He just can't admit that he needs God, and since I'm not to the end of this saga yet (I've probably read it before but this is the first time I've REALLY read it), I a

P has decided that she'd like to lose the nappies. Or at least start the process. I can only assume that's what she is trying to tell me by taking them off all the time. Either that, or I've got a future flasher in the making. She's been telling me about pee and poo for ages - I was just going to wait until summer, when it's warm enough for her to be sans pants. But she's pushed us ahead of schedule. Which is okay. I just have to adjust my thinking a bit, and schedule a couple of weeks in the near future (maybe during next school holidays) to do an intensive burst (no pun intended) of potty training. It's kind of a sick joke that she's learned and is beginning to use the word "no" at the same time as potty training. The sleep thing. Finally, we've got P sorted out. Turns out, all she needed was a decent, consistent bedtime routine. She needs it much more than C ever did. C's reluctance over bedtime was all about daytime naps. If we with

It's such a weird feeling, you know? To look around you, and see that nothing in your circumstances has changed. There are still crumbs on the floor, my kids still whine and argue, hang on. A couple of surprise sneezes derailed that train of thought. Note to self: you're out of clean pants, do some laundry tomorrow! Ah, that's better... Yes - circumstances have not changed one iota. And yet, I feel 180 degrees different today than I did a week ago. A week ago, I was crying at the thought of being here all day. A week ago, I wanted to run after my husband as he left for work, and beg him to stay home. Today, the house is still chaotic, the kids are still noisy, the laundry pile is bigger than ever, and I'm looking at a late night for the kids because we all had a nap. But none of it bothers me today, and has bothered me less and less all week. I feel more relaxed right now than I have in years. No amount of chocolate, no amount of sleep, no amount of carbohydrates could

Not everyone who reads this is a Christian, but I am. I won't apologise for that, and I won't be apologising for writing this post either. If you're truly offended, just don't read it, mmmm'kay? In short, it's my blog, and I'll write what I want to write. :) I've been feeling challenged lately. Really, really challenged. Overwhelmed by the minutiae of daily life. Nappies, noise, mess, homesickness, pregnancy, tantrums, bad hair days, exhaustion - the lot of it. Normal stuff. Nothing earth-shattering, just normal stuff that millions of mothers go through worldwide, every single day. But I've not been handling it well. Not by any stretch of the imagination. I realised several things: I hadn't been to Bible study in about 6 weeks. We'd decided not to go for a while, because C was just too tired after two days of preschool. Without that weekly time of fellowship and study, I just wasn't reading my Bible at all. And I was feeling really out o

My firstborn is just like me. She's clever, imaginative, more than a little bit 'spacey', very friendly, likes painting and other messy pursuits, has a hard time with finishing something before moving on to the next thing, and so on. To observe her, is to see me, 32 years ago. And at times, I find it exasperating. If I looked in the mirror, I'd see the exact same expression on my face that my mom used to have. I've heard myself saying exactly the same things to C that I remember hearing as a child. All through school, a recurring theme to my report cards was "has trouble focusing in class", and "does not finish work on time". I was always in my own private universe, and it was like no one knew how to get there. She is much the same. Occasionally, I get glimpses into her world, but most of the time, it's a place I neither understand, nor could hope to inhabit. My wish as a parent is that I learn to appreciate her for who she is, spaced outedne

Come in, sit down. Let's have a chat about identity. Specifically, as it relates to before and after marriage/offspring. Before I got married, I had this life. I had this great apartment, with matching towels, matching dishes, lots of framed photos on the walls, trips to the bookshop that almost always resulted in some novel or other jumping into my basket. I had a cat, who now lives with my mom. I loved beautiful things. Not expensive, necessarily, but beautiful things. I had girlfriends with whom I'd go out to dinner, or shopping, or what have you. I painted pottery. In short, it was fun, and largely carefree (although in a head-in-the-sand kind of way). For the longest time, I felt that getting married and having kids was the end of all that. Forever. I mourned (and sometimes still do) that life, that person, for she was now dead. And in her place was this new person, but I didn't know her. I still don't quite know who she is, and I'm still in a place where I'