My Exceedingly Odd Phobia

I HATE talking on the phone to people I don't know. But more so, I fear it. I don't know why, but it is one of the most anxiety producing things in my life (and I have three kids 4 and under).

Seriously, if I have to call someone on the phone that I don't know, I spend at least an hour preparing for the conversation, stressing over it, trying to pump myself up and finally trying to find away around it.

I know, I'm pathetic! I admit it... it's just the way I have always been.

My parents tried for a while to cure me. When I was about 15 they decided that if I wanted to order pizza, I had to call them myself. We didn't have take-out again until I got my license and could drive to the place and order in person. (And, yes, then sit there until it was ready.)

On a positive, I now have no problem calling people that I do business with: customer service, tech support, places of business if I need directions. (Yes, I have successfully ordered myself pizza for the last 15 years or so.)

But to talk to someone I have never met for any other reason. Heart Attack... I kid you not.

Now, a while back, I decided to get involved in our church a bit more. So I signed up for the food ministry. You know, if someone needs a meal because they are sick or just had a baby, you put together a meal and get it to them. Our church calls it the Mary and Martha ministry. There are multiple teams of five people and each person on the team has a job... dessert, salad, bread, etc. Well, I figured I can make some food, no problem.... until the director calls me. She is desperate for someone to be the "Mary" of our team. I will have to call the person to see is they need anything and then call again a week later to check up on them. I immediately seized up and stalled. I told her about my phone anxiety, trying to convince her I was not the right person for the job. She assured me it would be fine. They have a packet that tells you exactly what to say. I finally agreed, cautiously. I thought, God is asking me to do this. I can do this... It is only a phone call!

Today, I got the dreaded call. I need to call someone who is having surgery tomorrow. Can I just tell you. NO PACKET. I never got any packet. She PROMISED me a PACKET! I have no idea what I am suppose to say to this woman. After and hour or two of stress and almost backing out, I finally called. She sounded like she didn't understand why I was calling. (That was fun!) I finally asked if she would like me to put her name on the prayer list. She sounded very upbeat about that. (Success!) I called the office at church to ask if I could put her name on the list and the secretary, sounding very annoyed, informed me it was already there. (Shame!)

I am NOT a "Mary." I cannot do this job. And now I have an entire week to stress about the follow-up call.

Seriously God, this is not funny. My parents tried this strategy when I was 15, it didn't work. And while I know you are a much better teacher than my parents, I am so not happy with your technique at the moment. Just saying....

Apparently, I'm Not the Only One...

... trying to escape Neverland!



Micheal has discovered the doggy door. Now if he can just figure out how to avoid that whole high-centered thing.

Lessons from Layla

There are times that I have bad days... I mean really bad days. Days when I constantly yell at my children for getting into things. Days I just want them to go play so I can get the cleaning done. Days when I finally get one room clean and, as soon as I move on, the kids have ransacked what I spent the last 15 minutes doing. I get frustrated... I know it, and worse, they know it. If they would just give me 30 more minutes then I could give them my undivided attention. They whine. They want to help, but that will just make it take longer. I get in a mood. My oldest asks, "Mom, can you not be grumpy anymore?" I'm ashamed of those days.

On those nights, I lay in my bed and the mommy guilt sets in. (Okay, let's be honest, it set in long ago but now I have time to ponder on it.) I cry. I vow to do better next time. I pray that I will be a better mommy tomorrow. And then I pray,"Please Lord, don't take them from me tonight or any night. Don't let me regret the way I acted today. Give me another day to be better."

The sad thing is, I pray this a lot. I mean it sincerely, but that fact that I keep repeating my failures is unsettling. Is it that my worst fear (the death of my children) just doesn't happen in real life? It doesn't happen to people I know. Is it that I don't truly believe God would do that to me? I love Him, He loves me, He wouldn't hurt me like that. Or is it that I just don't want to believe it could happen?

But the thing is... It does happen. The growing popularity of blogs and twitter make is so much more real. Moms and dads start blogs to distract themselves, to update family and friends, to vent. And we read and learn and know that sometimes God takes your babies away. These Moms and Dads are almost always strong, faith-filled people, and I can't imagine myself in there place. So I cry. I cry for them, I cry for their pain, I cry for their strength, I cry because I still have my kids, and I cry because I still have a chance to be a better mom.

I had one of "those" days a short time ago. So, I went through my routine of regret and prayer and then I clicked on a link posted on Facebook... And I cried.

I read about Layla Grace. Layla is two and dying of cancer. Her parents think she has days, maybe hours left. They are in the middle of living out my worst fear. So I cried for her, for her mom and dad, for her sisters... And then I prayed for them.

However, when I read this piece, I cried for myself and my failures.

Layla's mom confesses:

Layla now spends most of her days sleeping. 30-45 minutes after she wakes up, she is ready to lay down and sleep again. Is this God’s way of preparing me for all the quiet time that is coming soon? The house is quiet. I am able to go through the motions of laundry, dishes, cooking and picking up without interruptions. But I WANT interruptions. I WANT Layla to be under my feet asking for cookies. I WANT to hear her playing with her toys. I WANT to take 45 minutes to unload the dishwasher because she keeps trying to help. For every time I uttered the words “I just can’t get anything done with these kids under my feet all day” I am eternally regretful. The days that I looked forward to naptime so I could get a grocery list made, or finally fold all the piles of laundry…I regret those days too. If I could do it all again, I’d enjoy EVERY SINGLE WAKING MOMENT I had with her. I would never wish for her to sit still or take a nap or go to bed early. I would never look forward to the days when she could sit through an entire episode of Dora silently. I would treasure every second with her.

Layla's mom puts into words my worst fears, the things I have told myself I never want to have to say. Regrets I never want to have. For some reason, out of all the stories I have heard or blogs I have read, this one, Layla Grace's story, is the one that finally got me. It happens, people outlive their children. Sometimes these children are so very very young. The fact is, there are times when parents have to watch their babies die.

If God decides it is his plan to take one of my children, I don't want these regrets so I need to do better. Getting the dishes done is just not that important. If John or Wendy want to help load the dishwasher, why not? They just want to be loved, be included; goodness, they just want to be WITH me. What was I thinking? So what if it's faster to do it myself? These are my babies. They will only be with me for so long. God willing I will lose my babies by watching them grow to adults, but no matter, I need to cherish them, not for the worst fear - just in case scenario, but because they are my children and I love them.

So pray for me that I can be a better mom, that I can remember Layla's Mom's words and that I can always put my children first...

...but even more so, pray for Layla and her family. Pray that God will take away her pain, that God will comfort her parents during this time of heartache, and that they can continue turning to God during their coming time of tremendous grief.

Infestation!

I love my shower! My shower may very well be my favorite place in the entire world. When I get in my shower, I cannot get out of my shower. I can't help it... it just pulls me in, it's like a magnet.



Lately, however, my showering has been a bit annoying. I am currently dealing with that after-child-birth hair loss thingy. You know, that thing where all the lush, thick hair you get from the prego hormones all start to fall out once the hormones go away. So now half my shower time is spent pulling my long red hair out of my fingers and rolling it up into icky little red hair balls so that I can throw them into the trash once I get out of the shower.



Then...



To add insult to injury, I'm informed my beloved shower is infested. Just the other day, John and Wendy, who apparently had been playing in the shower, come running into the living room with terrified looks on their faces. "Mommy, mommy there's a spider in the shower!" "Come see, It's GIGANTIC" I don't do spiders, so I am trying to convince them to wait until daddy gets home. But then I hear the rest of their squeals. "Mommy, you have to come see. It's a HUGE spider! I HUGE, RED spider!"

I Had Forgotten...

... about music and how much I love it.

The other day we went over to a friends house for dinner and they had music playing in the background. I mentioned how nice it was to hear the music and she asked me what kind of music I listened to.

I was stumped. I had no idea. It has been so long since I have listened to anything besides Laurie Berkner or VeggieTales, that I could not even come up with a song that I liked.

I think it was a combination of things... we moved when our first son was 2 weeks old and just never got around to hooking up the receiver. I didn't have a portable radio so music just wasn't an option at first. Then the IPOD craze happened, and it took me awhile to jump on that bandwagon... I didn't want to have to mess with the earphones. I finally got some speakers for my IPOD, but then every song on it ended up being a kid's song. (Those speakers are now at my husband's office so he can listen to music while he works.) So almost five years later, I've forgotten about music.

It's shocking really. I love music. I love the emotions it brings out. I love the way it can change your mood. That it can make you FEEL.

So the other day, Mr. Darling hooked me up with Pandora via the TV.

My Life has Changed Forever! There are no words...all I know is that I have rediscovered music and it is amazing!

(And my kids don't get to watch near as much TV, because I won't let them turn off the Pandora. Hey, It's a win win!)

Is the Postman Trying to Tell Us Something?

Today, I got the most interesting package in the mail. I'm not much for signs or anything, but at this moment in time, I am hoping beyond hope that this is, in fact, not a sign. (At least not for another year or so.)

Yes, so I go to the mailbox and discover...

Ready?

A box of sample baby formula and all those neat little book that tell you how to prepare for the arrival of your new baby.

Please God NO!!! I am so not ready yet! (Just give me one more year and then I will take as many free samples as you want to send.)

Overheard in Neverland

...as two year old Wendy comes into the room crying.

Daddy: "What's wrong sweetheart."

Wendy: "I bonked my pretty head!"

(We eventually stifled our laughter long enough to give kisses and console the bearer of that precious little noggin.)