Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Friday, April 20, 2007
I spent three hours writing this post...and it's a whopper!
I recently had the pleasure of visiting with an old friend from high school, and she kindly asked me about parenthood and how I enjoy being a full-time mom. I shared a few insights into what motherhood is like for me and some of the things that are truly wonderful and also the things that make my days really hard. After discussing this for quite some time, I asked her how she was and what she was up to these days. She paused, then laughed, and said, “Honestly? I feel so far from what you just talked about; I don’t really understand where you’re coming from at all.” She went on to talk about her impressive day job, her wonderful, funky friends, the charity she volunteers at, the last novel she read and loved, and the continuing journey of dating and seeking a godly man while living in the secular world.
It was so interesting to me how we had so much in common not so long ago, with similar dreams and ambitions. And yet at the current moment we are living such very different lives. I started to ponder how different my life would be if I didn’t have kids, or if I wasn’t married. Then I began thinking of how I could best describe my day to day life as a mom in a way that she could understand. After much pondering, here’s what I came up with…
Imagine if your job, whatever job you have, was twenty-four hours, seven days a week, and you never got a paycheck. You are on-call any time of day, rain or shine; any plans you make for yourself are always second to the needs of your clients and your company Partner and can be interrupted or postponed at any time without any advance warning. Most days you are awakened not by your alarm clock, but by your clients, who need you immediately. There is no time for a substantial breakfast, no time to shower or put contacts in or make-up on. You drag yourself out of bed to help your clients get their breakfast, while you clean up the mess your clients made at dinner the night before (more later on why the mess wasn’t cleaned up the previous night). Soon your first client is done and is yelling, “ALL DONE” at the top of his lungs. As you are wiping the face and hands of one client, the other one starts crying. You have to let that one cry as you finish up with the first. Without so much as a “thank you,” Client One is done with breakfast, leaving a messy chair, multiple dishes, and food all over the floor for you to clean up. You really should take care of these things first, but your second client is still screaming from the other room so you leave it and head out of the kitchen.
An hour later, still in your pajamas, both of your clients are fed, cleaned up, and dressed for the day. This is when the demands start flying. They are different with every client. Some want to be held, all morning. Some want juice, or desperately want to get your measuring spoons out of the silverware drawer so he can bang on the metal garbage can. One wants to watch a video, but then with every video presented the picky client decides that’s not the right one and you spend twenty minutes putting videos in and out of the VCR.
Finally Client One is happy, but then the other one poops and it explodes out of the diaper she’s wearing and gets all over her clothes and the bouncy seat she’s sitting in. This is not a rare occurrence; these explosions happen almost every day, if not multiple times a day. Your hands have become raw and bristly from scrubbing this particular client’s poop out of her clothes in icy cold water. Now you also have to take apart the bouncy seat and wash that cover, too, which means a day without the bouncy seat, which is that client’s favorite place to relax and kill time. Bummer.
After a major scrubdown (and some days a bath), you redress your client—although she is not cooperative and every time you try to stick her arm in the sleeve she grabs ahold of the sleeve and tries to stick it in her mouth. It’s such a small thing—but it’s starting to frustrate you—and it’s only 8:30 am!
At this point your client is worn out and ready for her morning nap. Thank goodness. Finally, you think, you will be able to shower and maybe even do something half-way decent to your hair. You get her all calmed down in the dark quiet room, only to suddenly be interrupted by your other client who comes bursting through the door with a large wooden truck. Try as you may, you cannot get him out of the room by asking nicely, so you end up having to drag Client One (while still holding Client Two) to the hallway and shut the door behind him. He is not happy with this decision and lets you know it. Unfortunately, this prevents your other client from settling down and falling asleep, and before you know it, both clients are unhappy and screaming. One is banging on the door, the other is pushing off your chest angrily and you can see her tonsils as she screams. Finally you put her in bed, because you know she is tired and that she will fall asleep on her own when she is left in quiet.
Your other client quiets down when he has your full attention. (This particular client is not very good at sharing!) Instead of using words, he grabs your hand and drags you down the hallway, over to his video stash, and points. You tell him that video time is over. He is not happy with this decision, either. And again the screaming starts. He flops down on the floor, alternating between kicking his feet on the floor and stiffening up his entire body, right down to his fists. He is not a very reasonable or understanding client. He is quite demanding, and often waffles between being indecisive and knowing exactly what he wants. He uses a myriad of ingenious (though quite obvious) tactics to convince you to give him what he wants. He rarely uses words you can understand, so many times he is unable to express what he is upset about and you find yourself at a standstill. Also, because he (nor your other client for that matter) doesn’t speak, there is rarely a two-sided conversation, so at the end of the day you feel like you are about to go insane from all the voices in your own head.
Despite this side of him, your client can also be incredibly sweet and charming. Like, when he finally calms down from his second major tantrum of the day, he comes over and plops in your lap with a book, and excitedly points out the ball (anything round) on every page. As he leans against your chest, you can smell his baby shampoo from his bath the night before, it is a glorious smell. As you are reading the book you notice that his tiny, warm hand is resting on yours, and your heart melts. These tiny moments are like memory-erasers; in these moments you are so afresh with love and adoration that you honestly forget the surge of frustration and anxiety that you had felt just moments before amidst all the screaming.
After book reading, this particular client would like to go outside. He is quite picky about which shoes he would like to wear, and you have to decide if this is a battle worth fighting. You decide it’s not—he can wear what he wants if it means keeping him happy. That is, until you get his socks on his feet and THEN he changes his mind and rejects the sneakers in favor of his brown leather Sunday sandals. Now you must draw the line. No child, er, client, of mine will wear socks with sandals!
Unfortunately…yet again your client does not like this decision and once again the screaming starts. You attempt to take off the socks, in order to put on the sandals, but your client—who normally, by the way, HATES socks and refuse to wear them—is adamant about keeping the socks and wearing the sandals. You finally realize, in all your wisdom, that your client has been presented with just too many options, and that he is now overwhelmed and doesn’t even know what he wants, just that he didn’t get his way. So you grab his tennis shoes, pick him up and head out the door.
And yes, in case you were wondering, YOU are still unshowered, hungry, and some mornings even wearing pajama pants. Lucky neighbors.
After putting on his shoes on the front porch and letting him loose, you run back in and grab the grocery list. At least you can get some work done for the family while he is occupied. You find a lawn chair, settle in, and start looking over the week.
Exactly two minutes later, you can’t see your client. You call his name but he doesn’t respond. You panic a little, and get up out of your leisure chair to look for him. You finally see him in the neighbor’s lawn, watching you with a gleam in his eyes. You call for him to come back, and instead he runs in the other direction. Now you have to run, too. But the faster you run, the faster he runs, and by now you are three doors down and he’s still running.
Finally you catch him, grab his chubby, muddy little hand, and start back after some protest. He plays contentedly for some time in the yard, but then wants you to push him on his tricycle. Because he hasn’t learned to use the pedals yet. So you bend over, straining your back, and push him up and down the sidewalk about eight hundred times.
Suddenly you hear your other client waking up over the monitor in the garage, and outdoor time is over. Once again, Client Number One is unhappy with this decision. You know the routine…dragging, screaming, stiffening, flopping.
Once inside you delightedly discover that it’s Golden Hour, i.e. time for Sesame Street. You get Client One set up with juice, a cracker for each hand (because that’s just how he likes it), and his Friendly Neighbors, and then settle in for a relatively quiet hour of nursing and baby talk with Client Number Two.
Also during this hour you think about all the emails that you need to send, the phone calls that need to be returned, the bills that need to be paid, and the breakfast dishes that need to be cleaned. You try to figure out when you will be able to shower that day, and if it is even necessary (i.e. will you see anyone important that day?). You brainstorm about lunch options, wish you could check out for a moment and complete a Sudoku puzzle, and compose a blog post in your head about the latest episode of 24 and how annoyingly predictable it was. You also nod off a few times while nursing, only to wake up to a sore neck—and you then daydream about getting a full-body massage, as well as a manicure and pedicure and some sort of fabulous new haircut…
Lunchtime arrives, and after settling Client Two into her swing with a few toys, you start preparing food for Client Number One. You also realize, as your stomach is rumbling, that you have eaten hardly anything besides graham crackers and a measly bowl of cereal at 6 am. You finish making whole wheat pasta, dot it with a little butter, and powder it with parmesan cheese (your client’s favorite, sure-fire meal option). Unfortunately, when you approach his chair, he is not happy with that decision (is this sounding like a broken record?). After much screaming and kicking and confusion (on your part) you finally understand that he wasn’t happy with your BIB choice, and after retrieving the correct bib and attaching it around his neck, your client happily starts eating lunch. Ahh. Peace and quiet.
You know you don’t have a long time, so you decide to go simple today and you start boiling water for Ramen noodles, i.e. “Cup O’ Noodles.” Cheap, easy, and almost no clean up—what a good decision!
Client One is now done with his meal and is asking for milk. You fill his cup and hand it over, while washing his hands, one at a time, and then face, and then releasing him from his chair. You are still preparing your own lunch as he runs off to play. When your noodles are ready and cooled enough to eat, you sit down at the table with joyful expectation…and almost immediately, Client Number Two lets you know that she is not happy, that she is done sitting in her swing, and that she is either poopy, bored, or ready for her next nap. After a little detective work you finally decide that she is tired and you tread back to your own bedroom to put her to sleep. While rocking her you remember that you left your Cup of Noodles on the table, and you frantically pray, “Dear God! Don’t let him get to it!!” Thankfully, she is a good baby most days and so you don’t have to rock her long, and after laying her down she usually goes to sleep fairly easily. (Unfortunately for you, your Ramen noodles are now cold and soggy. You either have to eat them anyway or resort to PBJ.)
After another time of reading, playing with blocks, or organizing his (fake) DVD’s, it is time for Client One’s nap. He is—can you guess it?—not happy with this decision, but doesn’t put up much of a fight because he is, after all, worn out from all the other tantrums and hard morning play. He goes down for naps very easily, which is a huge blessing. You close his door, walk down the hallway, and stop. The house is eerily quiet. You are now faced with one of the most annoying, frustrating, challenging parts of your day: what to do with Naptime, i.e. your only time off.
(I must interject here that it is also quite common, depending on how the night went, for your clients’ naps to be completely opposite one another, so that as one wakes up, the other goes down, and as that one wakes up, the other goes down. This is a very, VERY hard day, but the up side is that you don’t have to worry about making a good decision about your time off.)
Well, therein lies the problem: is it really time “off?” Your job description is so all-inclusive, and yet vague at the same time, and so it is quite hard trying to decipher when or if you have an acceptable period that is YOUR time. You are told by others in your position that each job is different, and it is up to you to figure out what works best for your “company.” Great.
So here are the options, on this particular day, that run through your head (and in no particular order—you see, your mind is so frazzled that there generally isn’t much order to your thoughts):
1. Collapse on the couch and turn on the TV.
2. Collapse on the couch and take a nap.
3. Have a quiet time to do your Bible Study and pray.
4. Take a shower.
5. Take a shower AND put on make-up.
6. Take a shower AND put on make-up AND do your hair.
7. Do the laundry. Fold the laundry. (But you can’t put it away because you have one client sleeping in each bedroom.)
8. Do the dishes.
9. Read all twenty-seven emails in your inbox and respond to five quickly and one or two in depth.
10. Look over the finances for your company, studying your charts and analyzing what was spent last month, what was purchased, and how can you make changes in your budget and spending plan to save money. Pay some bills.
11. Surf the internet, checking a few things on Ebay and Craig’s List.
12. Do a Sudoku puzzle, one of your favorite hobbies.
13. Read all the blogs on your Favorites list.
14. Check your own blog to see if anyone has commented—usually not.
15. Write thank you notes for gifts for your clients.
16. Practice piano (one of your many part-time jobs) for an upcoming gig.
17. Pluck your eyebrows.
You get the idea. Some days there are even more options. Some days you spend almost the entire time “off” trying to decide what to do. Other days you just tackle your list and work hard the entire time and still don’t get everything done. It’s actually quite similar to a “Choose-Your-Own-Adventure” fairy-tale (do you remember those?). If you choose option 13, then turn to page 27 to see your fate…
This particular day you are wiped, you have nowhere to go and no one to see that day so you don’t necessarily have to shower, and you are too tired of trying to make a decision about how best to spend your free time that, after doing a few dishes and starting the dishwasher, you plop down to watch last night’s episode of Lost that you taped.
When Naptime, or Quiet Time, or your “break” time is over—i.e. your clients need you once again—you suddenly are overcome with guilt at all the things you didn’t get done that you could have. The kitchen is still a mess—how will you make dinner? The laundry isn’t done, and you are wearing your last clean shirt and underdrawers. And, by golly, your eyebrows are still bushy!
Nonetheless, you get up and resume your duties to your clients. Once Thing One and Thing Two have had their afternoon snack and milk, there is a period of about two hours which you must entertain, entertain, entertain. Some days you do this well, so well that you actually enjoy yourself and it is very rewarding. Other days you get frustrated and—dare I say it—bored, and at this point in the day you are fairly desperate for other adult interaction. The minutes just seem to drag by, and you swear that you look at the clock every thirty seconds. Sometimes one of your clients in particular does not wake up in a good mood, and so this time is filled with unhappy tears and screaming, though he usually also requires his blankie and a snuggle as he cries for no apparent reason. Thankfully, your client two is fairly happy during this time to bounce or swing or roll. Only this afternoon she bounced a bit too much and after you pick her up she promptly throws up all down your shirt (your last clean shirt!) as well her second outfit of the day. Ugh.
When the weather is nice, you can go for a walk with your clients, which is sometimes your only respite. You occasionally can sneak an earphone into one of your ears to blast praise music while you walk—but it’s something you generally feel guilty doing while your clients are with you. Also, you have to be prepared that a walk generally drains you and so you have added exhaustion to the rest of your evening…but you also know that it is good for your body and your mind, and that your clients enjoy it, so it’s sometimes worth the exhaustion.
Dinnertime rolls around, as well as the third nap for Client Two. Unfortunately, client one is not happy with his dinner and throws it on the floor. Not only do you now have to get down and clean it up, but remember how you decided not to clean up his breakfast mess? Well, now it’s crusted on the floor and you have to scrub or pick it off with your fingernails as you pick up the rejected green beans. You are also very frustrated because this occurs many days in a row, this wasting of food, and it is costly to keep offering the food only to have it tossed to the floor…not to mention all the starving children in China that could really use some green beans. But, as your client does not yet speak your language, you cannot communicate this—and you’re pretty sure that you cannot stop offering food altogether, so you have to let it go.
As Client One is finishing dinner and Client Two is waking up, Client Three--I mean, your Partner--walks in the door. Ah, the relief! The joy! The laugher! (And sometimes, the tears!) He leans in for a hug, and then sniffs suspiciously. Mmm. Remember when Client Two threw up on you earlier? Or could it be your own un-showered body odor? Lovely. In either case—embarrassing!—and you wish you had showered AND done laundry that afternoon…
As you have been serving dinner for and entertaining Clients One and Two, you have simultaneously been trying to make dinner for your Partner and yourself. You finally sit down to eat together, while you hold Client Two in one arm and Client One is climbing all your Partner, vying for attention. You have what sort of resembles an adult conversation, with you often spilling over with stories of the day’s adventures and “bad decisions” and frustrations. Generally speaking your attention is divided and so the actual conversation is limited. Your clients are very excited to see your Partner, as is he to see them, and so this often gives you a moment or two “off.” That’s right…decision time again. At this time of day your options are usually limited to dishes or email. Depending on how exhausted you are, email usually wins out.
At this time of day, most people (excluding working parents) would be coming home, or already be home, from work, and their client’s demands would have to wait until the next day at nine o’clock am. These people would have time to themselves, time for leisure or time to make a nice dinner for themselves, with only dinner dishes to clean up. There are no toys to clean up, no floors to scrub dried banana off of, no poop-stained clothes to clean. They can take a break, relax, and enjoy their chosen evening activities.
You, on the other hand, are just getting geared up for the third leg of your work day. Bedtime is, fortunately for your company, quite a pleasant time of day, as both Partners are in house and both clients are fairly compliable. Especially Client One—he loves when you read to him, or when he gets to take a bath, and when you brush his teeth in the mirror. And he especially loves being held and rocked as you sing, “Jesus Loves Me” to him. You love this too; it is another one of those amnesia-moments in your day. It’s astounding—this one moment is so powerfully precious that it can almost single-handedly outweigh all the hard times in your day; you love your client just that much.
Once both of your clients are in bed, in separate rooms, you can generally assume one of two things. Either, they will both sleep soundly, with minimal fussing, until Client Two needs to eat again at 10, and you will have from 7:30 to 10pm to do whatever you choose, like working on a blog entry about how hard it is to be a full-time mother. Or, one or both clients will not sleep soundly, and will fuss off and on all evening. This particular evening Client Two was not too happy about being put to bed, and she screamed—a grating, guttural scream—to let you know just how unhappy she was about it. You spend from 7:30-9:45 trying to calm her down. She finally, finally quiets down around 9:45, just fifteen minutes away from her regular feeding time and your bedtime. So instead of two and a half hours to yourself, you now have fifteen minutes.
What to do, what to do. You try to be disciplined and go to bed anyway, as you are exhausted and you know you need the sleep. Or, desperate for “me time,” you stay up until midnight, when your Partner arrives home and when Client Two wakes up to eat. After feeding her and putting her in her crib in the room with Client One, you chat a bit with your Partner as you brush your teeth and prepare for bedtime. As you turn out lights in the living room you step on a Mr. Incredible toy and then slip on a book, and realize with dismay that you never made it out to the living room to pick up the toys. You wince with guilt and dread as you turn out the lights in the kitchen and remember how you didn’t wash the dinner dishes, sweep under the high chair, or wash Client One’s milk cup. You flip the light switch in the office and your heart sinks as you remember that you forgot to send that bill, and write those thank you notes, and respond to those emails. And your eyebrows remain unplucked.
(Not all nights are like this—other nights your house is clean, the dishes are done, the fridge fully stocked, the laundry done and in drawers, and you are delirious, beyond exhausted, and on the verge of a nervous breakdown. In either case, about this time of night you seriously feel like petitioning for a mental health day. Unfortunately, there is no such thing in your field of work; there isn’t really anyone to petition to anyway. Just the thought is enough to make you want to faint…)
You fall into bed, only to be awaked forty-five minutes later by Client Two, crying in her crib. Disoriented, you spring from your slumber and rush to the other bedroom, hoping against hope to get to Client Two in time to keep Client One asleep. Sometimes you are successful, and all is well after a little cuddling and rocking. Other times, like tonight, Client One freaks out when you come into the room and don’t hold him (another bad decision, apparently) and then you have two screaming clients and no hope in sight for a peaceful night. You finally bring Client Two into your own bedroom while your Partner attempts to calm Client One.
After everyone is back in bed, with Client Two asleep in her portable bed at the foot of your bed—yes, one of your clients sleeps at the foot of your bed!—you drift off for a few hours of uninterrupted sleep. After taking on your second client five months ago, you have not had one full night of solid sleep since. Three or four hours at a time is a triumph worth celebrating.
Sometimes, though, for no apparent reason, Client Two just cries. And cries. And screams. Oh, the screaming. Make it stop! Sometimes you even punch or throw your pillow in frustration. But you are there to serve your client, and your client needs you, and this is one job that cannot be “quitted.” And so, after dispelling some of your delirious frustration, you get up once again to rock, rock, rock your client.
An hour or two later, it’s time for another feeding. Yes, one of your clients literally feeds off of you during the night. You have to provide sustenance in the middle of your sleep! Another human being’s entire growth is dependent on your body! What other job is that true of?
By this time you can see without putting your glasses on that the room is getting lighter. The wee hours of the morning are passing by, and your client is now aware that it is not “night-night” time anymore, but rather, it is play time! Boy is she an early riser! Having no concern for your lack of rest and unreplenished energy, she is rearing to go by six am. And Client One is not far behind. You lay in bed listening to Client Two chatter away sweetly, and you can’t help but smile. You think ahead to the day, and what is on the schedule, and promise yourself you will make a shower your top priority that morning. After one last morning stretch, one more desperate prayer that your clients will return to the land of slumber for one more hour, you swing your legs over the side of your bed…
…And start all over again.
This is my life. If you are still reading, you are a champion sympathizer. This was very therapeutic for me tonight, as today was a particularly hard day, during a hard week. I know when I look at the calendar that today is Friday (at least for another hour!) but Fridays aren’t what they used to be…now they are just like every other day of the week. I have no weekend, no days off, no holidays from my job. It can be pretty grueling at times. I feel awful complaining, because I love, love, love my beautiful children. They bring me so much joy. Just the sound of Jack’s laugher is enough to light my heart ablaze once again. I am thankful that despite my seemingly endless exhaustion, I still want my job. As hard as these days are, I wouldn’t trade them for anything else.
It was so interesting to me how we had so much in common not so long ago, with similar dreams and ambitions. And yet at the current moment we are living such very different lives. I started to ponder how different my life would be if I didn’t have kids, or if I wasn’t married. Then I began thinking of how I could best describe my day to day life as a mom in a way that she could understand. After much pondering, here’s what I came up with…
Imagine if your job, whatever job you have, was twenty-four hours, seven days a week, and you never got a paycheck. You are on-call any time of day, rain or shine; any plans you make for yourself are always second to the needs of your clients and your company Partner and can be interrupted or postponed at any time without any advance warning. Most days you are awakened not by your alarm clock, but by your clients, who need you immediately. There is no time for a substantial breakfast, no time to shower or put contacts in or make-up on. You drag yourself out of bed to help your clients get their breakfast, while you clean up the mess your clients made at dinner the night before (more later on why the mess wasn’t cleaned up the previous night). Soon your first client is done and is yelling, “ALL DONE” at the top of his lungs. As you are wiping the face and hands of one client, the other one starts crying. You have to let that one cry as you finish up with the first. Without so much as a “thank you,” Client One is done with breakfast, leaving a messy chair, multiple dishes, and food all over the floor for you to clean up. You really should take care of these things first, but your second client is still screaming from the other room so you leave it and head out of the kitchen.
An hour later, still in your pajamas, both of your clients are fed, cleaned up, and dressed for the day. This is when the demands start flying. They are different with every client. Some want to be held, all morning. Some want juice, or desperately want to get your measuring spoons out of the silverware drawer so he can bang on the metal garbage can. One wants to watch a video, but then with every video presented the picky client decides that’s not the right one and you spend twenty minutes putting videos in and out of the VCR.
Finally Client One is happy, but then the other one poops and it explodes out of the diaper she’s wearing and gets all over her clothes and the bouncy seat she’s sitting in. This is not a rare occurrence; these explosions happen almost every day, if not multiple times a day. Your hands have become raw and bristly from scrubbing this particular client’s poop out of her clothes in icy cold water. Now you also have to take apart the bouncy seat and wash that cover, too, which means a day without the bouncy seat, which is that client’s favorite place to relax and kill time. Bummer.
After a major scrubdown (and some days a bath), you redress your client—although she is not cooperative and every time you try to stick her arm in the sleeve she grabs ahold of the sleeve and tries to stick it in her mouth. It’s such a small thing—but it’s starting to frustrate you—and it’s only 8:30 am!
At this point your client is worn out and ready for her morning nap. Thank goodness. Finally, you think, you will be able to shower and maybe even do something half-way decent to your hair. You get her all calmed down in the dark quiet room, only to suddenly be interrupted by your other client who comes bursting through the door with a large wooden truck. Try as you may, you cannot get him out of the room by asking nicely, so you end up having to drag Client One (while still holding Client Two) to the hallway and shut the door behind him. He is not happy with this decision and lets you know it. Unfortunately, this prevents your other client from settling down and falling asleep, and before you know it, both clients are unhappy and screaming. One is banging on the door, the other is pushing off your chest angrily and you can see her tonsils as she screams. Finally you put her in bed, because you know she is tired and that she will fall asleep on her own when she is left in quiet.
Your other client quiets down when he has your full attention. (This particular client is not very good at sharing!) Instead of using words, he grabs your hand and drags you down the hallway, over to his video stash, and points. You tell him that video time is over. He is not happy with this decision, either. And again the screaming starts. He flops down on the floor, alternating between kicking his feet on the floor and stiffening up his entire body, right down to his fists. He is not a very reasonable or understanding client. He is quite demanding, and often waffles between being indecisive and knowing exactly what he wants. He uses a myriad of ingenious (though quite obvious) tactics to convince you to give him what he wants. He rarely uses words you can understand, so many times he is unable to express what he is upset about and you find yourself at a standstill. Also, because he (nor your other client for that matter) doesn’t speak, there is rarely a two-sided conversation, so at the end of the day you feel like you are about to go insane from all the voices in your own head.
Despite this side of him, your client can also be incredibly sweet and charming. Like, when he finally calms down from his second major tantrum of the day, he comes over and plops in your lap with a book, and excitedly points out the ball (anything round) on every page. As he leans against your chest, you can smell his baby shampoo from his bath the night before, it is a glorious smell. As you are reading the book you notice that his tiny, warm hand is resting on yours, and your heart melts. These tiny moments are like memory-erasers; in these moments you are so afresh with love and adoration that you honestly forget the surge of frustration and anxiety that you had felt just moments before amidst all the screaming.
After book reading, this particular client would like to go outside. He is quite picky about which shoes he would like to wear, and you have to decide if this is a battle worth fighting. You decide it’s not—he can wear what he wants if it means keeping him happy. That is, until you get his socks on his feet and THEN he changes his mind and rejects the sneakers in favor of his brown leather Sunday sandals. Now you must draw the line. No child, er, client, of mine will wear socks with sandals!
Unfortunately…yet again your client does not like this decision and once again the screaming starts. You attempt to take off the socks, in order to put on the sandals, but your client—who normally, by the way, HATES socks and refuse to wear them—is adamant about keeping the socks and wearing the sandals. You finally realize, in all your wisdom, that your client has been presented with just too many options, and that he is now overwhelmed and doesn’t even know what he wants, just that he didn’t get his way. So you grab his tennis shoes, pick him up and head out the door.
And yes, in case you were wondering, YOU are still unshowered, hungry, and some mornings even wearing pajama pants. Lucky neighbors.
After putting on his shoes on the front porch and letting him loose, you run back in and grab the grocery list. At least you can get some work done for the family while he is occupied. You find a lawn chair, settle in, and start looking over the week.
Exactly two minutes later, you can’t see your client. You call his name but he doesn’t respond. You panic a little, and get up out of your leisure chair to look for him. You finally see him in the neighbor’s lawn, watching you with a gleam in his eyes. You call for him to come back, and instead he runs in the other direction. Now you have to run, too. But the faster you run, the faster he runs, and by now you are three doors down and he’s still running.
Finally you catch him, grab his chubby, muddy little hand, and start back after some protest. He plays contentedly for some time in the yard, but then wants you to push him on his tricycle. Because he hasn’t learned to use the pedals yet. So you bend over, straining your back, and push him up and down the sidewalk about eight hundred times.
Suddenly you hear your other client waking up over the monitor in the garage, and outdoor time is over. Once again, Client Number One is unhappy with this decision. You know the routine…dragging, screaming, stiffening, flopping.
Once inside you delightedly discover that it’s Golden Hour, i.e. time for Sesame Street. You get Client One set up with juice, a cracker for each hand (because that’s just how he likes it), and his Friendly Neighbors, and then settle in for a relatively quiet hour of nursing and baby talk with Client Number Two.
Also during this hour you think about all the emails that you need to send, the phone calls that need to be returned, the bills that need to be paid, and the breakfast dishes that need to be cleaned. You try to figure out when you will be able to shower that day, and if it is even necessary (i.e. will you see anyone important that day?). You brainstorm about lunch options, wish you could check out for a moment and complete a Sudoku puzzle, and compose a blog post in your head about the latest episode of 24 and how annoyingly predictable it was. You also nod off a few times while nursing, only to wake up to a sore neck—and you then daydream about getting a full-body massage, as well as a manicure and pedicure and some sort of fabulous new haircut…
Lunchtime arrives, and after settling Client Two into her swing with a few toys, you start preparing food for Client Number One. You also realize, as your stomach is rumbling, that you have eaten hardly anything besides graham crackers and a measly bowl of cereal at 6 am. You finish making whole wheat pasta, dot it with a little butter, and powder it with parmesan cheese (your client’s favorite, sure-fire meal option). Unfortunately, when you approach his chair, he is not happy with that decision (is this sounding like a broken record?). After much screaming and kicking and confusion (on your part) you finally understand that he wasn’t happy with your BIB choice, and after retrieving the correct bib and attaching it around his neck, your client happily starts eating lunch. Ahh. Peace and quiet.
You know you don’t have a long time, so you decide to go simple today and you start boiling water for Ramen noodles, i.e. “Cup O’ Noodles.” Cheap, easy, and almost no clean up—what a good decision!
Client One is now done with his meal and is asking for milk. You fill his cup and hand it over, while washing his hands, one at a time, and then face, and then releasing him from his chair. You are still preparing your own lunch as he runs off to play. When your noodles are ready and cooled enough to eat, you sit down at the table with joyful expectation…and almost immediately, Client Number Two lets you know that she is not happy, that she is done sitting in her swing, and that she is either poopy, bored, or ready for her next nap. After a little detective work you finally decide that she is tired and you tread back to your own bedroom to put her to sleep. While rocking her you remember that you left your Cup of Noodles on the table, and you frantically pray, “Dear God! Don’t let him get to it!!” Thankfully, she is a good baby most days and so you don’t have to rock her long, and after laying her down she usually goes to sleep fairly easily. (Unfortunately for you, your Ramen noodles are now cold and soggy. You either have to eat them anyway or resort to PBJ.)
After another time of reading, playing with blocks, or organizing his (fake) DVD’s, it is time for Client One’s nap. He is—can you guess it?—not happy with this decision, but doesn’t put up much of a fight because he is, after all, worn out from all the other tantrums and hard morning play. He goes down for naps very easily, which is a huge blessing. You close his door, walk down the hallway, and stop. The house is eerily quiet. You are now faced with one of the most annoying, frustrating, challenging parts of your day: what to do with Naptime, i.e. your only time off.
(I must interject here that it is also quite common, depending on how the night went, for your clients’ naps to be completely opposite one another, so that as one wakes up, the other goes down, and as that one wakes up, the other goes down. This is a very, VERY hard day, but the up side is that you don’t have to worry about making a good decision about your time off.)
Well, therein lies the problem: is it really time “off?” Your job description is so all-inclusive, and yet vague at the same time, and so it is quite hard trying to decipher when or if you have an acceptable period that is YOUR time. You are told by others in your position that each job is different, and it is up to you to figure out what works best for your “company.” Great.
So here are the options, on this particular day, that run through your head (and in no particular order—you see, your mind is so frazzled that there generally isn’t much order to your thoughts):
1. Collapse on the couch and turn on the TV.
2. Collapse on the couch and take a nap.
3. Have a quiet time to do your Bible Study and pray.
4. Take a shower.
5. Take a shower AND put on make-up.
6. Take a shower AND put on make-up AND do your hair.
7. Do the laundry. Fold the laundry. (But you can’t put it away because you have one client sleeping in each bedroom.)
8. Do the dishes.
9. Read all twenty-seven emails in your inbox and respond to five quickly and one or two in depth.
10. Look over the finances for your company, studying your charts and analyzing what was spent last month, what was purchased, and how can you make changes in your budget and spending plan to save money. Pay some bills.
11. Surf the internet, checking a few things on Ebay and Craig’s List.
12. Do a Sudoku puzzle, one of your favorite hobbies.
13. Read all the blogs on your Favorites list.
14. Check your own blog to see if anyone has commented—usually not.
15. Write thank you notes for gifts for your clients.
16. Practice piano (one of your many part-time jobs) for an upcoming gig.
17. Pluck your eyebrows.
You get the idea. Some days there are even more options. Some days you spend almost the entire time “off” trying to decide what to do. Other days you just tackle your list and work hard the entire time and still don’t get everything done. It’s actually quite similar to a “Choose-Your-Own-Adventure” fairy-tale (do you remember those?). If you choose option 13, then turn to page 27 to see your fate…
This particular day you are wiped, you have nowhere to go and no one to see that day so you don’t necessarily have to shower, and you are too tired of trying to make a decision about how best to spend your free time that, after doing a few dishes and starting the dishwasher, you plop down to watch last night’s episode of Lost that you taped.
When Naptime, or Quiet Time, or your “break” time is over—i.e. your clients need you once again—you suddenly are overcome with guilt at all the things you didn’t get done that you could have. The kitchen is still a mess—how will you make dinner? The laundry isn’t done, and you are wearing your last clean shirt and underdrawers. And, by golly, your eyebrows are still bushy!
Nonetheless, you get up and resume your duties to your clients. Once Thing One and Thing Two have had their afternoon snack and milk, there is a period of about two hours which you must entertain, entertain, entertain. Some days you do this well, so well that you actually enjoy yourself and it is very rewarding. Other days you get frustrated and—dare I say it—bored, and at this point in the day you are fairly desperate for other adult interaction. The minutes just seem to drag by, and you swear that you look at the clock every thirty seconds. Sometimes one of your clients in particular does not wake up in a good mood, and so this time is filled with unhappy tears and screaming, though he usually also requires his blankie and a snuggle as he cries for no apparent reason. Thankfully, your client two is fairly happy during this time to bounce or swing or roll. Only this afternoon she bounced a bit too much and after you pick her up she promptly throws up all down your shirt (your last clean shirt!) as well her second outfit of the day. Ugh.
When the weather is nice, you can go for a walk with your clients, which is sometimes your only respite. You occasionally can sneak an earphone into one of your ears to blast praise music while you walk—but it’s something you generally feel guilty doing while your clients are with you. Also, you have to be prepared that a walk generally drains you and so you have added exhaustion to the rest of your evening…but you also know that it is good for your body and your mind, and that your clients enjoy it, so it’s sometimes worth the exhaustion.
Dinnertime rolls around, as well as the third nap for Client Two. Unfortunately, client one is not happy with his dinner and throws it on the floor. Not only do you now have to get down and clean it up, but remember how you decided not to clean up his breakfast mess? Well, now it’s crusted on the floor and you have to scrub or pick it off with your fingernails as you pick up the rejected green beans. You are also very frustrated because this occurs many days in a row, this wasting of food, and it is costly to keep offering the food only to have it tossed to the floor…not to mention all the starving children in China that could really use some green beans. But, as your client does not yet speak your language, you cannot communicate this—and you’re pretty sure that you cannot stop offering food altogether, so you have to let it go.
As Client One is finishing dinner and Client Two is waking up, Client Three--I mean, your Partner--walks in the door. Ah, the relief! The joy! The laugher! (And sometimes, the tears!) He leans in for a hug, and then sniffs suspiciously. Mmm. Remember when Client Two threw up on you earlier? Or could it be your own un-showered body odor? Lovely. In either case—embarrassing!—and you wish you had showered AND done laundry that afternoon…
As you have been serving dinner for and entertaining Clients One and Two, you have simultaneously been trying to make dinner for your Partner and yourself. You finally sit down to eat together, while you hold Client Two in one arm and Client One is climbing all your Partner, vying for attention. You have what sort of resembles an adult conversation, with you often spilling over with stories of the day’s adventures and “bad decisions” and frustrations. Generally speaking your attention is divided and so the actual conversation is limited. Your clients are very excited to see your Partner, as is he to see them, and so this often gives you a moment or two “off.” That’s right…decision time again. At this time of day your options are usually limited to dishes or email. Depending on how exhausted you are, email usually wins out.
At this time of day, most people (excluding working parents) would be coming home, or already be home, from work, and their client’s demands would have to wait until the next day at nine o’clock am. These people would have time to themselves, time for leisure or time to make a nice dinner for themselves, with only dinner dishes to clean up. There are no toys to clean up, no floors to scrub dried banana off of, no poop-stained clothes to clean. They can take a break, relax, and enjoy their chosen evening activities.
You, on the other hand, are just getting geared up for the third leg of your work day. Bedtime is, fortunately for your company, quite a pleasant time of day, as both Partners are in house and both clients are fairly compliable. Especially Client One—he loves when you read to him, or when he gets to take a bath, and when you brush his teeth in the mirror. And he especially loves being held and rocked as you sing, “Jesus Loves Me” to him. You love this too; it is another one of those amnesia-moments in your day. It’s astounding—this one moment is so powerfully precious that it can almost single-handedly outweigh all the hard times in your day; you love your client just that much.
Once both of your clients are in bed, in separate rooms, you can generally assume one of two things. Either, they will both sleep soundly, with minimal fussing, until Client Two needs to eat again at 10, and you will have from 7:30 to 10pm to do whatever you choose, like working on a blog entry about how hard it is to be a full-time mother. Or, one or both clients will not sleep soundly, and will fuss off and on all evening. This particular evening Client Two was not too happy about being put to bed, and she screamed—a grating, guttural scream—to let you know just how unhappy she was about it. You spend from 7:30-9:45 trying to calm her down. She finally, finally quiets down around 9:45, just fifteen minutes away from her regular feeding time and your bedtime. So instead of two and a half hours to yourself, you now have fifteen minutes.
What to do, what to do. You try to be disciplined and go to bed anyway, as you are exhausted and you know you need the sleep. Or, desperate for “me time,” you stay up until midnight, when your Partner arrives home and when Client Two wakes up to eat. After feeding her and putting her in her crib in the room with Client One, you chat a bit with your Partner as you brush your teeth and prepare for bedtime. As you turn out lights in the living room you step on a Mr. Incredible toy and then slip on a book, and realize with dismay that you never made it out to the living room to pick up the toys. You wince with guilt and dread as you turn out the lights in the kitchen and remember how you didn’t wash the dinner dishes, sweep under the high chair, or wash Client One’s milk cup. You flip the light switch in the office and your heart sinks as you remember that you forgot to send that bill, and write those thank you notes, and respond to those emails. And your eyebrows remain unplucked.
(Not all nights are like this—other nights your house is clean, the dishes are done, the fridge fully stocked, the laundry done and in drawers, and you are delirious, beyond exhausted, and on the verge of a nervous breakdown. In either case, about this time of night you seriously feel like petitioning for a mental health day. Unfortunately, there is no such thing in your field of work; there isn’t really anyone to petition to anyway. Just the thought is enough to make you want to faint…)
You fall into bed, only to be awaked forty-five minutes later by Client Two, crying in her crib. Disoriented, you spring from your slumber and rush to the other bedroom, hoping against hope to get to Client Two in time to keep Client One asleep. Sometimes you are successful, and all is well after a little cuddling and rocking. Other times, like tonight, Client One freaks out when you come into the room and don’t hold him (another bad decision, apparently) and then you have two screaming clients and no hope in sight for a peaceful night. You finally bring Client Two into your own bedroom while your Partner attempts to calm Client One.
After everyone is back in bed, with Client Two asleep in her portable bed at the foot of your bed—yes, one of your clients sleeps at the foot of your bed!—you drift off for a few hours of uninterrupted sleep. After taking on your second client five months ago, you have not had one full night of solid sleep since. Three or four hours at a time is a triumph worth celebrating.
Sometimes, though, for no apparent reason, Client Two just cries. And cries. And screams. Oh, the screaming. Make it stop! Sometimes you even punch or throw your pillow in frustration. But you are there to serve your client, and your client needs you, and this is one job that cannot be “quitted.” And so, after dispelling some of your delirious frustration, you get up once again to rock, rock, rock your client.
An hour or two later, it’s time for another feeding. Yes, one of your clients literally feeds off of you during the night. You have to provide sustenance in the middle of your sleep! Another human being’s entire growth is dependent on your body! What other job is that true of?
By this time you can see without putting your glasses on that the room is getting lighter. The wee hours of the morning are passing by, and your client is now aware that it is not “night-night” time anymore, but rather, it is play time! Boy is she an early riser! Having no concern for your lack of rest and unreplenished energy, she is rearing to go by six am. And Client One is not far behind. You lay in bed listening to Client Two chatter away sweetly, and you can’t help but smile. You think ahead to the day, and what is on the schedule, and promise yourself you will make a shower your top priority that morning. After one last morning stretch, one more desperate prayer that your clients will return to the land of slumber for one more hour, you swing your legs over the side of your bed…
…And start all over again.
This is my life. If you are still reading, you are a champion sympathizer. This was very therapeutic for me tonight, as today was a particularly hard day, during a hard week. I know when I look at the calendar that today is Friday (at least for another hour!) but Fridays aren’t what they used to be…now they are just like every other day of the week. I have no weekend, no days off, no holidays from my job. It can be pretty grueling at times. I feel awful complaining, because I love, love, love my beautiful children. They bring me so much joy. Just the sound of Jack’s laugher is enough to light my heart ablaze once again. I am thankful that despite my seemingly endless exhaustion, I still want my job. As hard as these days are, I wouldn’t trade them for anything else.
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Saying Goodbye
This morning we woke up early with dread and sadness in our hearts. The day had finally come when we would have to say goodbye to our good friends, Rob and Janet, and their boys. Eric
and I have fought the tears this past week, trying to imagine daily life without them. Perhaps, though, the hardest part for us has been wondering how Jack will take the loss of Simeon, his little buddy, someone who has been a part of his everyday life for the past fifteen months. We’ve tried explaining it to him, but we’re pretty sure he doesn’t really understand it. How could he?For those of you who don’t know who the Mezgers are, they are the family that has lived in the downstairs apartment of this house with us this past year. Their son, Simeon, is a day older than Jack, and they formed a bond early on that has turned into a sweet companionship and love for one another. Then on January 1st of this year, their son Nathanael rounded out our home, a whole six weeks after Ellie was born.
Elmo episodes, too many toys to count, sippy cups, GERMS, food off each other’s plates, kisses and hugs, giggles, and shrieks of joy whenever they saw each other. Living in such close proximity has taught us so much about community, fellowship, bearing one another’s burdens and sharing in our joys. We’re just starting to understand what an enormous blessing it has been to have them for neighbors.So, we trudged downstairs early this morning as they were finishing last-minute packing and preparing to spend our last time together. We held Nathan, tickled Simeon, laughed with Rob and Janet. Jack and Sim enjoyed jumping on the mattress on the floor, laughing gleefully, completely unaware that this was their last time to play together. When it was time to leave, they gave each other a sweet hug, and then a kiss on the cheek. Just broke my heart.
We held it together pretty well until we came upstairs and sat in the window watching them get in the car. Eric began trying to explain to Jack that Simeon was going bye-bye and we wouldn’t see him for a long time. Jack had this confused expression on his face and just sat there staring out the window. It was so sad, and with tears streaming down our cheeks we waved goodbye one last time to our friends—no, to our family—from our window perch.
It’s been a hard day. Every now and then I do something that reminds me of one of the Mezgers…at one point I thought I heard the washing machine and assumed Janet was doing laundry. And then…no. Later I heard a baby crying and stopped to think, “Is that Nathan or Ellie?” And then…oh. Tonight I went to get out a pot for dinner, and I was suddenly reminded of how much Simeon loved getting into my pots and pans and dragging them into the living room. I will miss that.
I told Eric tonight that my mind knows they are gone and that we won’t see them tomorrow, or the day after, or many days after that. But in a weird way their spirit is still here…going downstairs and seeing their empty home still doesn’t make it sink in. The memories are too fresh, too precious, and it hurts just too much to think about what tomorrow will feel like, how quiet this house will be.
We are hurting tonight. We will miss our friends more than we could have imagined. But we trust that God is sovereign and that He goes with each of our families as this season is changing. We are so grateful for the past year, and for the blessing they have been in our lives, and in Jack’s life. Blessings, sweet friends! We know we will see you again someday, whether in this life or the glorious next. C-ya!
Monday, April 09, 2007
Easter Surprise
Easter morning we discovered that Ellie had cut her first tooth! And as you can see in the pictures, the second one isn't far behind. When I excitedly told Eric and had him feel her gums, he said, "Well, it's very fitting. Easter is when Christianity really got its teeth, too." Very funny.
Saturday, April 07, 2007
Eyes and Ears and Mouth and...Jesus?
We have been working with Jack to learn the parts of the body. He loves the song "Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes," although he still only points to his head and toes. When we prompt him, he is able to point out his (and our, and Ellie's) eyes, nose, ears, hair/head, chin, cheeks, mouth, hands, feet/toes, knees, elbows, and belly button. When we finish going through all of these we say to him, "Where is Jesus?" and he pats his chest, and we say, "In your heart." I'm hoping that he doesn't someday ask a fellow toddler friend if he, too, has a "jesus." Hopefully we can explain it more fully before he's able to talk that well!
Last night, as we were watching my dad's slide presentation from the darkened lobby of the church, I was pointing to the pictures of the crucifixion (hoping they wouldn't scare him too much) and saying, "See? There's Jesus on the cross." Jack kept looking at me and patting his chest. It finally hit me that all he was hearing was Jesus, and he was showing me that Jesus was in his heart. It was such a sweet and tender moment, one that took me by surprise, and one I know my mother heart will not soon forget.
Last night, as we were watching my dad's slide presentation from the darkened lobby of the church, I was pointing to the pictures of the crucifixion (hoping they wouldn't scare him too much) and saying, "See? There's Jesus on the cross." Jack kept looking at me and patting his chest. It finally hit me that all he was hearing was Jesus, and he was showing me that Jesus was in his heart. It was such a sweet and tender moment, one that took me by surprise, and one I know my mother heart will not soon forget.
Friday, April 06, 2007
Next Year I'm Getting a Babysitter
Tonight was the annual Good Friday service at our church. Full of candles, quiet, darkness, and a very somber atmosphere, this time is usually a powerful reminder of Christ's final hours before His death by crucifixion, as well as a startling reminder of the severity of my own sin that played a part in nailing Him to that cross. We sing mournful hymns like, "Where You There When They Nailed Him to the Cross" and "When I Survey the Wondrous Cross" and there are candles extinguished with each song. The sanctuary gets darker and darker as the service progresses. At the end of the service we sit in complete darkness and listen to an instrument as it strikes wood, sounding eerily like the pounding of hammer on nails, but I think it is supposed to represent the rocks breaking as Christ died, and foreshadows the earthquake as the stone was rolled away from the tomb and victorious Christ came forth. We then leave the service not just in darkness but also in silence.
At least, that's how it's supposed to go. Instead, I dragged both kids to the seven o'clock service by myself (Eric had to work), which is no easy feat. There was no official nursery service, so Jack sat about a total of two minutes before he was asking for juice and wanting his book. I was so afraid he would start yelling excitedly, "Ball!!" because just about every puppy in the book is playing with a big ball. Thankfully my sister came and took him to play in the nursery with Mikaila and Jonathan. Ellie didn't last long either, and the short amount of time I was in the sanctuary I was so worried about her making noise that I could hardly concentrate. So we spent almost the whole service (me, Marika, and Jonathan) chasing kids in the church nursery.
At the end of the service tonight there was a presentation that my dad had created; he recorded a bunch of people reading a poem on the death of Christ, added really interesting and striking sound effects, and then there was a slide show playing along with it (in the darkened sanctuary) of various artistic interpretations of the crucifixions. Unfortunately, since we had the kids, we all stood in the lobby peering through the windows, trying to hear it over Jack and Mikaila's babbling. Too bad. It looked amazing.
Then, as everyone was leaving in supposed somber silence, Jack was oohing and ahhing--loudly, I might add--at all the people passing by. Thinking it was any other Sunday, he was excited to go running into the sanctuary and up the balcony stairs, where Eric usually is. So then I had to chase him all over, holding Ellie, trying to get his coat on and keep her happy (didn't happen) all the while trying to keep them both quiet. By the time I was actually pulling out of the church parking lot I was about in tears.
What's the point? Why even go? I think for me, tonight, I was determined to go because I have felt so disconnected from this Lenten season. I missed our Ash Wednesday service, haven't been to any of the Lenten suppers at our church, and just generally have not been very "conscious" of this season of remembrance and celebration. With much guilt I realized a few weeks ago that I have probably thought more about what the kids will wear on Easter than I have thought about the reason we are celebrating.
I'm not a fan of cheesy Christian slogans or cliché phrases, but lately I've had that annoying "Jesus is the reason for the season" rhyme running through my head (is that supposed to be about Christmas?), and as irritating as it is...it's really true. This season is not about bunnies, or eggs, or pastel chocolate candies, or large baskets filled with annoying grass, or even about what we will all wear to church on Sunday. How insulting to our conquering Christ that this time has somehow become about the fluff and marsh mellow peeps, about shiny white shoes and hats, and bow ties and sweater vests! What did any of that ever do for me, except give me a tummy ache when I ate my whole chocolate bunny on Easter Sunday?
For me, Easter is about a specific day set aside to celebrate Christ's victory over sin, through his death and resurrection. I don't know about you, but I personally have more sin needing to be conquered than I care to admit. The enormity of His grace is sometimes hard for me to grasp, but recently I had an experience that I felt gave me a new insight into the true meaning of grace.
I have been going to the chiropractor for years. When our insurance changed last year, I was unable to continue going as I would have to pay out of pocket, which we couldn’t afford. They worked with me to try to come up with some sort of payment plan, even offered an interest free medical loan for low-income families. We could not even afford that. I finally had to stop the woman helping me and just say, “Look—the honest truth is that I have nothing. There is no way I can pay you for this, so I’ll have to just not come.” It was humbling, as well as a bit embarrassing, to admit that.
Weeks later she called me up and told me there was a credit on my account, and that I should schedule an appointment. Seeing as how I had just given birth, and thus my bones are all slightly out of place, it was a huge blessing to be able to get a few adjustments. After coming in a few times I inquired into the amount of our credit, as I wanted to be sure I didn’t end up owing something I couldn’t pay. I was then told that someone anonymous was paying for my chiropractic treatments, and that I could come in once a week and they would be paid for. How amazing!
I continued to go to my visits once a week for a month or so. One day, there was a new receptionist working, and she asked me how I would like to pay for my visit. I stood there paralyzed, unable to find words to tactfully explain that there was some type of arrangement, that I didn’t actually have to pay anything. There was another woman standing at the counter, and other people sitting just a few feet away in the waiting room, and I was mortified that I would have to stand there and make my case in front of everyone; in that split second I was sure she would give me this horrific number of what I owed, and I would have to beg and explain that I simply did not have any means to pay that debt.
Then, in a moment of sheer mercy, the insurance lady (the compassionate one who has helped me navigate through the financial aspect of this) leaned her head in and said quietly, “She’s taken care of. Her account is paid.” What relief! What thankfulness!
As I got in my car, her words kept ringing in my ears: Her account is paid. It suddenly hit me how closely this paralleled the grace and mercy of Christ on the cross. A debt that I have no means of paying or erasing, was forgiven and “taken care of” by the grace and compassion of some stranger. The debt of my sin, the ugly, heavy burden that I am unequipped to conquer, erase, or pay on my own—this great debt was lovingly and mercifully “taken care of” by Christ on the cross, and through His victory over sin. It was out of great love that He made this sacrifice, and there is no expectation of being "paid back." It's not like Jesus did me a favor, or gave me a loan that I'll have to repay someday. I don't owe Him. If I owed Him it would be humanly impossible to ever it pay off. That's the whole point of grace.
Last night I read this quote by Max Lucado:
“Envision the moment. God on His throne. You on the earth. And between you and God, suspended between you and heaven, is Christ on the cross. Your sins have been placed on Jesus. God, who punishes sin, releases His rightful wrath on your mistakes. Jesus receives the blow. Since Christ is between you and God, you don’t. The sin is punished, but you are safe, safe in the shadow of the cross.”
Wow. That is certainly something worth celebrating and remembering every single day of the year!
I hope each of you reading this, wherever you are in the world, has a wonderful Easter Sunday celebrating the gift of grace and mercy bestowed on you through Christ's death and resurrection, and subsequent victory over the strongholds of sin.
"For nothing good have I
Whereby Thy grace to claim,
I’ll wash my garments white
In the blood of Calv’ry’s Lamb."
(Jesus Paid it All)
At least, that's how it's supposed to go. Instead, I dragged both kids to the seven o'clock service by myself (Eric had to work), which is no easy feat. There was no official nursery service, so Jack sat about a total of two minutes before he was asking for juice and wanting his book. I was so afraid he would start yelling excitedly, "Ball!!" because just about every puppy in the book is playing with a big ball. Thankfully my sister came and took him to play in the nursery with Mikaila and Jonathan. Ellie didn't last long either, and the short amount of time I was in the sanctuary I was so worried about her making noise that I could hardly concentrate. So we spent almost the whole service (me, Marika, and Jonathan) chasing kids in the church nursery.
At the end of the service tonight there was a presentation that my dad had created; he recorded a bunch of people reading a poem on the death of Christ, added really interesting and striking sound effects, and then there was a slide show playing along with it (in the darkened sanctuary) of various artistic interpretations of the crucifixions. Unfortunately, since we had the kids, we all stood in the lobby peering through the windows, trying to hear it over Jack and Mikaila's babbling. Too bad. It looked amazing.
Then, as everyone was leaving in supposed somber silence, Jack was oohing and ahhing--loudly, I might add--at all the people passing by. Thinking it was any other Sunday, he was excited to go running into the sanctuary and up the balcony stairs, where Eric usually is. So then I had to chase him all over, holding Ellie, trying to get his coat on and keep her happy (didn't happen) all the while trying to keep them both quiet. By the time I was actually pulling out of the church parking lot I was about in tears.
What's the point? Why even go? I think for me, tonight, I was determined to go because I have felt so disconnected from this Lenten season. I missed our Ash Wednesday service, haven't been to any of the Lenten suppers at our church, and just generally have not been very "conscious" of this season of remembrance and celebration. With much guilt I realized a few weeks ago that I have probably thought more about what the kids will wear on Easter than I have thought about the reason we are celebrating.
I'm not a fan of cheesy Christian slogans or cliché phrases, but lately I've had that annoying "Jesus is the reason for the season" rhyme running through my head (is that supposed to be about Christmas?), and as irritating as it is...it's really true. This season is not about bunnies, or eggs, or pastel chocolate candies, or large baskets filled with annoying grass, or even about what we will all wear to church on Sunday. How insulting to our conquering Christ that this time has somehow become about the fluff and marsh mellow peeps, about shiny white shoes and hats, and bow ties and sweater vests! What did any of that ever do for me, except give me a tummy ache when I ate my whole chocolate bunny on Easter Sunday?
For me, Easter is about a specific day set aside to celebrate Christ's victory over sin, through his death and resurrection. I don't know about you, but I personally have more sin needing to be conquered than I care to admit. The enormity of His grace is sometimes hard for me to grasp, but recently I had an experience that I felt gave me a new insight into the true meaning of grace.
I have been going to the chiropractor for years. When our insurance changed last year, I was unable to continue going as I would have to pay out of pocket, which we couldn’t afford. They worked with me to try to come up with some sort of payment plan, even offered an interest free medical loan for low-income families. We could not even afford that. I finally had to stop the woman helping me and just say, “Look—the honest truth is that I have nothing. There is no way I can pay you for this, so I’ll have to just not come.” It was humbling, as well as a bit embarrassing, to admit that.
Weeks later she called me up and told me there was a credit on my account, and that I should schedule an appointment. Seeing as how I had just given birth, and thus my bones are all slightly out of place, it was a huge blessing to be able to get a few adjustments. After coming in a few times I inquired into the amount of our credit, as I wanted to be sure I didn’t end up owing something I couldn’t pay. I was then told that someone anonymous was paying for my chiropractic treatments, and that I could come in once a week and they would be paid for. How amazing!
I continued to go to my visits once a week for a month or so. One day, there was a new receptionist working, and she asked me how I would like to pay for my visit. I stood there paralyzed, unable to find words to tactfully explain that there was some type of arrangement, that I didn’t actually have to pay anything. There was another woman standing at the counter, and other people sitting just a few feet away in the waiting room, and I was mortified that I would have to stand there and make my case in front of everyone; in that split second I was sure she would give me this horrific number of what I owed, and I would have to beg and explain that I simply did not have any means to pay that debt.
Then, in a moment of sheer mercy, the insurance lady (the compassionate one who has helped me navigate through the financial aspect of this) leaned her head in and said quietly, “She’s taken care of. Her account is paid.” What relief! What thankfulness!
As I got in my car, her words kept ringing in my ears: Her account is paid. It suddenly hit me how closely this paralleled the grace and mercy of Christ on the cross. A debt that I have no means of paying or erasing, was forgiven and “taken care of” by the grace and compassion of some stranger. The debt of my sin, the ugly, heavy burden that I am unequipped to conquer, erase, or pay on my own—this great debt was lovingly and mercifully “taken care of” by Christ on the cross, and through His victory over sin. It was out of great love that He made this sacrifice, and there is no expectation of being "paid back." It's not like Jesus did me a favor, or gave me a loan that I'll have to repay someday. I don't owe Him. If I owed Him it would be humanly impossible to ever it pay off. That's the whole point of grace.
Last night I read this quote by Max Lucado:
“Envision the moment. God on His throne. You on the earth. And between you and God, suspended between you and heaven, is Christ on the cross. Your sins have been placed on Jesus. God, who punishes sin, releases His rightful wrath on your mistakes. Jesus receives the blow. Since Christ is between you and God, you don’t. The sin is punished, but you are safe, safe in the shadow of the cross.”
Wow. That is certainly something worth celebrating and remembering every single day of the year!
I hope each of you reading this, wherever you are in the world, has a wonderful Easter Sunday celebrating the gift of grace and mercy bestowed on you through Christ's death and resurrection, and subsequent victory over the strongholds of sin.
"For nothing good have I
Whereby Thy grace to claim,
I’ll wash my garments white
In the blood of Calv’ry’s Lamb."
(Jesus Paid it All)
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