A Family of Families

Are you a hopeful person?  I am.  That's got upsides, like a generally optimistic outlook, and embarrassing consequences, like two failed home businesses.  One of which was when I attempted to sell Halon Fire Extinguishers... let's just say that I'm a much better Internet researcher now than I was then. 

Anyway...

I get my hopes up.  I want to believe things people tell me.  So when the pastor yesterday talked about our church, a group of people following Jesus, becoming more and more like "A Family of Families."  It made me cry.  I thought about all of the times in the last 4 years since our first child was born that I desperately wanted to live near my family.  I need help and the closest family we have is my in-laws who are in and out of town because they are RVers. 

So I started imagining what it would look like to be in A Family of Families. 

I'd like to be the 50's Housewife of the Family in the kitchen baking and serving up yummy meals surrounded by perfectly dressed children and a clean house.  I'd like my calendar to be full... 4 of 7 nights with guests or being a guest works for me.  I'd like to help if someone is sick or just had a baby.  And yes, I'd wear an apron to do it all. 

Then reality set in. 

What if it's like in-laws?   

Please don't misunderstand, my in-laws are amazing people.  I sincerely love them.  And yet, they're still in-laws.  For example, their version of helping isn't necessarily what I consider helpful.  So, instead of Holidays being relaxing times of rejoicing together, I have panic attacks... really, I had a panic attack last fall because my husband invited his parents for dinner last minute without consulting me.  It took me an hour to come inside and I had to go to the store to buy bread to go with the cold dinner because I couldn't think of a better excuse for being unable to just share a meal.

That's the problem.  I desperately want to be in A Family of Families, but it takes a while before in-laws are as close as your own parents and siblings.  I'm sure everyone's experience is different, but as for me, I don't know how to really let people in.  I don't mind if folks see me with my make-up on and a smile (sometimes fake, mostly real) on Sunday mornings.  But if someone stops by on Monday afternoon (like today), I might have a problem if they were to see me lash out at my kids for not napping or that I'm completely overwhelmed with my life and that I'm running on "E". 

My Family might see all of me

instead of the version of me I allow them to see. 

Instead of getting to be the Betty Crocker of the Family, it's more likely that I'd be the crazy aunt.  You know me, Auntie Momma Drama, the volatile one who drinks too much.  I'm much more likely to blubber on the phone saying, "I've got groceries to put away, a dirty house, laundry out my ears, an obligation tonight, 4 children who won't nap, another obligation tomorrow morning, out-of-town guests early tomorrow afternoon, and the recession didn't end last June... HELP."  (BTW, "help" is pronounced "heh-yulp"... it's a two syllable word where I come from.)

What scares me, too, is that I can't control the help My Family of Families would offer.  I'm sure someone would offer to come do my laundry while I manage my children, but then they'd see my underwear.  I'm sure someone else would offer to take my kids, but my kids might jump on the couches or scream about a toy... my children are loud.  Maybe someone would offer to bring dinner so I have one less thing.  And then, the worst could happen: someone might just say, "Stop blogging and get busy."  No matter what they offer, I hate asking for help... remember, I don't want anyone to see all of me. 

I wish I knew what to expect so I could either sign up and get my hands dirty - or - run for the hills.  But I have no bloomin' idea what A Family of Families looks like in practice.

Then again, I'm hopeful... maybe The Family won't always be in-laws. 



I'd love some feedback:  Are you in A Family of Families?  Who are you in that Family?  (Remember, I'm the crazy aunt.)  Are you looking for a Family?  Or are you as apprehensive as I am?

Work in Progress

I've said it, you've probably said it: "I'm a work in progress."

I'm a piece of work, a lot of days.

Maybe I'm more like an area roped off with yellow tape filled with workers in hazmat suits... that's a project. 

I wish I were the Sistine Chapel... I know it's not finished, but at least it's beautiful.

It's more likely that I'm a particularly tough piece of clay... Isaiah 64:8

But now, O LORD,you are our Father;
we are the clay, and you are our potter;
we are all the work of your hand.

While I have aspirations of becoming a beautiful vessel worthy of fine flowers and prime placement, I'm feelin' like an ashtray.  Like a 4th grader's art project with some serious defects.  *sigh*

But hey, you can use an ashtray.

 

A Broken Plate

Maybe I'm just a little slow on the uptake.  Maybe my bachelor's degree didn't actually give me any common sense.  Maybe my ideal world just doesn't exist.

I feel overwhelmed a lot of days.  I mean, come on... I have four children four and under.  I've been mistaken for some kind of Supermom.  Please let me dispel that myth once and for all:  Do Supermoms raise their voices?  Hide in the bathroom with the fan on?  Call their husbands in tears two or three times a week?  Well, if they do, sure I'll go pick up my uniform from the cleaner's.  Um, no. 

I always admire the Mommas that always have clean houses, home cooked meals, pretty blogs, Gap Models instead of children, and a smile to boot.  I aspire to be like her (she's a myth, by the way)... I want shiny floors, homemade whole wheat bread, a cupcake blog, children whose shoes are on the right feet, and at least a shower.  But I don't always get what I want. 

So this hit me the other day after I let my son watch Blue's Clues after he got home from preschool.  I told my husband because I was so excited by this revelation:

When my patience runs short
and my to-do list is long,

my kids can watch TV.

(told you I was slow)

I know many of you have lived by this principle for years.  I, however, am eating my words when I type that.  I never wanted to be the Mommy who sits my children in front of the television (or computer at our house) because I don't want to interact with them.  On the contrary, I love my children and I wish I had the energy to keep up.  Instead, I find myself losing it because
I can't keep that many plates spinning. 

So the plate that hit the floor is the TV.  I let it fall because I don't want them to be afraid of me and my little tirades.  I don't want them to remember Mommy being mad... or, sometimes, sad. 

So while the little ones sleep, the big kids can sometimes watch Kipper or Pingu or Blue on Netflix because Watch Instantly is the best invention EVER.  And, there are no commercials so my kids aren't demanding Rescue Heroes, Pop Tarts, or Disneyland.   

I'm sure more plates will fall ... like how I'm a little particular about what we eat and the cleanliness of my home.  Then again maybe, I'll actually pick up a few more plates along the way once someone at my house can tie their own shoes, cross the street unaccompanied, or make a PB (no J) sandwich.