weeklythoughtexchange

Are you familiar with photo filters? If you’re on social media at all, you’ve definitely seen them. Filters can change the color shades of a photo. They can add sparkles and stars or even change our complexions. Some of them put masks on the subjects of the photos. A filter can truly change the tone and impression of a picture.

Annoying antics happen all the time in our house. Liquids are more often out of the cup instead of in it. Crayons are so much more fun to use on walls and floors and furniture than on paper. Voices just happen to get louder when baby siblings are napping. And the best toys are plungers in toilet bowls and unrolling toilet paper. It’s all the stuff that writes up a fun story but is just so frustrating for a busy mama trying to run a smooth household. I sure wish I could say that I just smiled and laughed each time those things happen. I probably do the first or second time something happens but come the fifth or sixth occurrence my fuse is all too short.

I wonder what would happen if I changed my filter. Instead of letting the moment dictate my response to life perhaps I could ask myself:

• Will I remember this incident when he is 18?
• If I do remember it, will I still find it frustrating or will I laugh about it instead?
• (And on those particularly trying days) When I am in heaven and worshiping before God’s throne, will I remember this incident?
• If I do remember it (and I doubt I will), will it matter at all?

Just as a filter doesn’t alter the chemistry of the photo itself, neither will my questions change the frustrating situations that pop up each day. But photo filters can adjust the perspective of the photo and the emotions it generates. I think the right filter on life can make all the difference in the world when it comes to responding to life in a lighter fashion. I’ll need to give it a try.

I knew he had filled his diaper but I was crossing my fingers that we could make it through the service. He seemed to be drifting to sleep in my lap and my busy toddler had settled into the car seat on the floor. Maybe I would be able to hear the sermon after all! The warmth oozing across my lap dashed my hopes. I lifted him up and saw yellow down my dress. I quickly packed us up and headed to the restroom where I began the long process of giving my squalling infant a full body wipe down while my oldest made sure the toddler didn’t splash in any of the toilets.

All in all it didn’t ruin my day. My mom friends and I got a good laugh out of it and I really was so thankful I had worn a yellow dress. I also applauded my diaper bag packing skills because I had everything I needed (aside from a change of clothes for myself). And best of all, it makes for a GREAT story. Most extreme situations caused by young children do that. But I still felt frazzled and that got me to thinking.

For some time God has been showing me that this season of motherhood is a season of rest and the big blow out drove that lesson home. Life with young children doesn’t seem restful: night after night of sleep deprivation; teething and screaming and more teething and more screaming and growth spurts and sleep regressions and more nights of no sleep, night terrors, meals and laundry and messes.

But it’s also a season of meandering walks, lots and lots of reading, snuggles on the couch, sleeping babies in bed, low academic pressures, TONS of reasons to celebrate, flourishing imaginations, and being able to solve almost all problems by going outside, reading a new story or blowing some bubbles. A lot of the additional stress i experience is from feeling like I have expectations to meet such as trying to keep a spotless house all day long, keeping all the social commitments, being early for every appointment, or feeling like my children need to behave around the clock because the alternative means I’m a failing mom.

But Jesus says that all who are weary and heavy laden should come to Him and He will give them rest. He doesn’t qualify His statement with “If you are” or “when you are”. He says “all who are.” I like that. Does it mean He will do my dishes or fold my laundry or take a night shift or two? Probably not. I think it means He will change my mindset to relieve it of the unnecessary expectations so I can take the days in stride. In doing so I will have the wisdom and creativity to handle the challenges that come. And I will see that a day doesn’t have to be perfect to be good; in fact, the best days might be the ones with the most challenges in them.

I’m trying to put down my phone. It’s hard. There’s so much on it than is more than a phone. In fact, I hardly use the phone portion of my phone; it’s a camera, a timer, a record-keeper, a recipe resource, an encyclopedia, a store, a radio…there’s always some good reason why I need to have it close. But I’m trying to put my phone down.

Not long ago I sat in my rocking chair to feed the baby and stopped my hand when I reached for my phone. Instead, I sat. Before long the littlest girl toddled by and I decided to observe her: how she walked, how she stooped to pick up the tiniest thing on the floor, how she tipped her head as she babbled away, how she carried her selected toys. It wad adorable! And then I wondered how much has been happening around me that I missed because my eyes were on the screen.

Putting my phone down during the day feels less efficient. But when I think of the fun expressions on my children’s faces that I’ve glimpsed or the conversations I’ve tuned into or the changing sunlight moving through the windows as our day progresses or spotting the hummingbird by our bottlebrush tree I realize there is more to life than efficiency. In some ways, I’m starting to feel like every moment that my eyes are on a screen could be better spent elsewhere.

I certainly don’t have it all figured out since even by writing this blog I am on my phone (hence why it has taken me weeks to finish). For most of my social connections it is the only way we can keep in touch, and I am thankful for the enrichment opportunities it offers. But moving forward I no longer want to feel like the majority of my life has been spent on a screen or is dependent on one. My world is bigger and richer and deeper than that; it’s time to give my spirit the chance to experience the hidden layers that are otherwise easily missed.

I’m doing something different this summer, and I wanted to include you in my challenge. With rising costs in every aspect of life, I am feeling the urgency of saving money even more. This summer I am going to look for ways to spend less and save more. Here are some ideas (some are my own and some I have gleaned from others):

• See what I can sell and put that money in the bank.
• Conserve wherever possible: water, electricity, food, school supplies, gas, etc.
• Avoid new purchases: only buy what absolutely must be bought new.

And here are some strategies I plan to implement in order to stick with the ideas ☝🏻:

• Shop from my own house before rushing to buy something: I have a lot of extras that I’m not even aware I have. I’d like to practice being resourceful.
• If I don’t have it at home, then I want to wait and see if I can find it at a thrift store or garage sale. The waiting period may prove I don’t need the item.
• Reduce, reuse, recycle (of course!)
• Make a memory instead of making a purchase
• Set a monthly savings goal and celebrate when we reach it.

At the end of each month I’m going to write about how close I got to my goal and what I did that helped accomplish that. Hopefully this will become a habit and last all year. Do you want to join in on the savings fun? Share your ideas!

The other day Simeon and I were hanging out together and I said, “Simeon! Your birthday is on Sunday!” His little face exploded into a smile and he said, “It is?!” And then he shouted to everyone, “My burstday is on Sunday!” In that moment I realized just how adorably young this brand new four-year old is. We have been talking about his birthday all month as a family but he didn’t know it was so close. The concept of time is still developing in this tiny man and there’s something sweet about that. There are many things about this guy that I adore.

His speaking style is second to none in our family. We have talked about making a dictionary just for him because his pronunciation of some words is just so unique and he comes up with creative alternatives too. Here are a few:

• Youse = your
• Diarrhea = quesadilla
• Hurricane = candy cane
• Fouryee = four
• Shoryts = shorts

I’m sure one day he will outgrow his style of speaking but I hope it’s not too soon. It just fits him perfectly and I could listen to him talk all day.

His swagger is distinct. He walks with chest out and shoulders back as if to dare anyone to stand in his way. He is always ready to stand his ground, snuggle blanket faithfully by his side. He is a powder keg- a wrong look can result in an explosive outburst. He wastes no time in yelling, “I am so mad right now!” Perhaps being in the middle causes him to feel like he needs to make his presence felt and feelings heard in a way that is stronger than most.

But he is not all bristles. He melts into our arms just as easily as he takes on a fight. He has been known to walk around the house teary-eyed simply because he wants some extra cuddles from Mama or Poppa. The other day I was just sitting and watching him play with his cars and dragons and blocks. He was narrating the plot of his playtime to himself when all of a sudden he said, “I love you, Mom.” In that moment he taught me that he feels loved when I’m just there, focused on him- something almost effortless on my part.

And then there is his mischievous side. His eyes start dancing and a half smile (his dimpled side) appears and we just know a prank is percolating. Before too long, chaos erupts somewhere in the house and a blond head shows up looking as innocent as ever. I try to laugh most of the time but there are days when I do wish he was as innocent as he looks.

We could have stopped at two boys and two girls but I sure am glad that God blessed us with this little man in the middle. He keeps us laughing and cuddling and praying for patience, just what we need to be the parents he needs.

Today is Mother’s Day. Since it isn’t my first one, I kept my expectations very low and only requested a picture with all 8 and time to write. The photo shoot was a circus and I’m writing this blog in the midst of nap-less toddlers roaming the house. I’ve shed a few tears of frustration but only a few. You see, I’m in training and they are too and that’s life in a nutshell. Is it a bad thing? I don’t think so. We grow in the process.

Our golden retriever was about 6 months old when I bought a harness for him that said: IN TRAINING. He was large for his young age; when we took him out and about I wanted people to know he was still a puppy and needed a little extra patience from them. It was also a reminder for me too- when he pulled too hard on the leash or couldn’t control his bladder when he got excited or chewed something up. If I remembered he was still in training, it was easier for me to be patient with him.

This imagery came to my mind recently on a particularly trying day. Rarely does a day go by without one person being a challenge and my feeling like I could have handled the challenge with a calmer, more thoughtful approach. But if I remember that my children are still new to this earth and learning how to regulate their emotions and interact with their environment, patience and compassion assist in restraining my emotional reactions.

Following this thought I noticed that memories made and lessons learned from my own childhood were more frequently visiting my thoughts. I can honestly say I have not thought about my childhood training as much as I have now- just a few years shy of 40. It makes the proverb ring true: “Train up a child in the way he should go and when he is old [grown], he will not depart from it.” Not only are my children in the training years for now and years to come, I am too. Parenthood is not something you can study for ahead of time; it is on-the-job training in every sense of the term. Each day I am a little more practiced in some respects and a novice in others. Embracing these training years can help me laugh at the mishaps and be peaceful in the tumult.

I am comforted by the knowledge that I may not see fruit or even buds from my efforts with my children for years to come. What matters is that I am consistent in doing what I know is right and surrendering to the training process in my own life. Being a mother isn’t just about pointing my children to Jesus; it’s about following Him myself. And that’s a humbling thought.

Hello Readership,

I am working on a blog post that has been simmering in my mind for a few weeks; I am taking a little rabbit trail to share my hobby shops with you. At a time like this when everyone is trying to conserve and spend less or find creative ways to cover or reduce their expenses, I don’t like to push my businesses on anyone. But I do like to spread the word that I have them so you can check them out if you’re interested.

The first business is my book shop. I’m a consultant with PaperPie (formally Usborne Books). Their books and learning tools are outstanding! Adults and children alike can enjoy them as they make learning a favorite pastime. I have a book group on Facebook and also offer a subscription book club as well as a book review team starting up in May. You can view my website here: https://j13868.paperpie.com

The second business has been a part of my family for nearly a decade. When I was expecting our first child, I joined DoTERRA as a wellness advocate because I wanted cleaner alternatives for supporting my family’s health. The items from this company are now woven into almost everything aspect of our life. We use them for health support, sanitizing, cleaning, hygiene, and ambience. If you’d like to peruse my website, visit here: https://www.doterra.com/US/en/site//liverealpruitt

My funnest shop is my thrift boutique. This is on Facebook at Unique Finds Pop-Up Boutique. On a monthly basis I update my inventory with, well, unique finds from thrift stores and garage sales and other random places. I also welcome vendors to come and sell their unique inventory. If you would like to know more about this shop or any of my businesses, email me at shelbysuniquefinds@gmail.com

Thanks for reading! More blogs to come!

Here we are again: another birthday and you’re one year older than I can believe. This birthday seems extra poignant to me because you’re now only two birthdays away from being a decade in age. And two isn’t very much. My thoughts have frequently been drifting to the drama of your birth, remembering what was going on during each of the 3 days leading up to your appearance.

And now here we are…eight…YEARS…later. You have seven younger siblings who consider you their king (a lot of the time; other times they’re in rebellion); your nights are usually booked as you squirrel away with your favorite reading material (I find your books tucked into the most random places in your room); you can ride your bike with no hands, practice holding your breath under water, and enjoy archery; and you ask Jesus to help you have the right attitude in school.

I am proud of your physical stature and accomplishments but I’m most in awe of your inquisitive mind. You crave knowing- not just about the world around you but about the God who created it all. Your mind doesn’t rest on this planet either. Nope. You’re already exploring the planets we know about and the ones we don’t and pondering the complexities of the sun. And while you’re in the heavens, you’re also drifting in thought to the new heaven and the new earth we are eagerly anticipating together.

From the moment I met you eight years ago, I knew you were one of my favorite people in the world. Each day only confirms that fact. I love you not simply because you’re my flesh and blood but because you are uniquely yourself. You are content to be yourself while still knowing there are areas where you need to grow in skill and good character. But my affection doesn’t stop with loving you; I really, really like you too. I think your jokes are hilarious, your ideas are brilliant, and your verve for life inspirational.

I would go through the drama of your birth all over again in order to be your,

Mama

The first week of March I celebrated another year of life. The next day I birthed a new life. Two days later I had a brush with death and spent several days in the hospital, including three days in the ICU. Those days away from my family and the following weeks altered my perspective on being alive.

I was keenly aware of being separated from my children, especially my newborn. Separation was the farthest thing from my mind when I was planning my postpartum recovery. A sterile hospital room was a far cry from my cozy home and cuddling with my baby in his first days of life. By the time I could cuddle with him he was nearly a week old and that hurt so much. When I did get home, everyone seemed taller and more capable; I wrestle with those lost days.

On a daily basis we hear of tragedy: lives gone in a heartbeat or calamity leaving devastation in its wake. Tragic news has become so commonplace that I had almost become desensitized to it; my sympathy almost rote. But as the ER team worked to save my life, I encountered my vulnerability and in an instant felt the fragility of my existence. I was one missed heartbeat away from death and there was nothing I could do about it. And if I was that fragile, my existence that temporary, what does that mean for my husband? My children? My siblings? My parents? Everyone I hold close and who they hold close?

There’s a juxtaposition in my mind consisting of my newest son’s birth and the tenuous thread upon which life hangs. There is such power in the transition from unborn to born; in terms of distance , it is a relatively short journey but the process is complex. And yet everything in the process is designed to bring that life into the world. It’s powerful and miraculous and intricate. It is this complexity that builds within me a yearning to value each moment of existence.

At times it hurts to think of the days we won’t get back. For instance, I can’t get back those days when my baby was two, three, and four days old and I wasn’t able to see him because I was in the ICU. My littlest girl matured so much while I was in the hospital and I missed that process too. I worry about my parents getting older and they live so far away; all of those days apart between annual visits are days forever gone and not shared. As sand slips through our hands only leaving a few grains on our fingertips, so time moves on with only a few moments fully developed into lasting memories.

A friend reminded me that as finite human beings we will never be able to be as present in each moment as we want to be and that requires some acceptance. However, intentional living can be accomplished to some extent: take mental pictures of those ordinary moments that have become so dear. Today I took one of my mom’s profile as she sat by me in church; I took another one of my newborn’s toes pressed against the palm of my hand; and I took several mental photos of my baby girl practicing her toddling steps. I am tuning into my toddlers’ darling ways of talking and our older children’s silly jokes; I am appreciating that I can soothe a sick child’s worries and can tuck everyone into bed at night.

Sand might be slipping through my fingers but I am making sandcastles along the way.