Crazy Banaliens

Summer is well on its way to being over, fall "vacation" (as my teacher husband calls it) will be here before we know it, and my kids have finally settled into a routine of not getting along.  It's been hotter than unmentionable places for most of the past couple of weeks, and our little house seems to be bursting at the seams with people....sometimes cranky, sometimes delightful, sometimes (mercifully) sleeping.  

Delightful or Cranky?

Okay, truth be told, that "sometimes cranky" person has more and more often been me, and that quite possibly has something to do with the fact that I haven't had one full night of sleep in the past six months.  Or maybe my house can't handle two homemakers.  Or maybe it's just that my little bubble of personal space is constantly being popped by someone who wants something from me and I feel like I haven't had a moment of peace and quiet in forever and ever and ever.  I haven't been relaxed or well-rested or taken care of in eons, and I think it's finally getting to me.

I can't even think straight most of the time, I'm so overwhelmed.  I've got lots of big things on my mind, but even the plain, everyday thoughts and decisions, like what to wear or make for dinner, seem powerfully huge and impossible right now, and I just can't keep my head from spinning.

Crazy Banaliens

And so out comes Mrs. Crankypants, barking orders, making mountains out of molehills, and being a general pain in the just-had-a-kid-and-haven't-lost-the-baby-weight heiney.  Yelling at my children to "show the love of Jesus, for crying out loud!!!" as I rant and rave like a lady straight out of the proverbial loony bin, wherever that is.  If this keeps on for too much longer, I'm thinking I might actually get to find out.  Not entirely a bad thing, you know.  A nice, secluded, padded room is sounding pretty heavenly right about now.

Somehow in the midst of this chaotic summer, I've found solace in simply embracing my lunacy.  Letting my family see it, even share in it sometimes, has given me the freedom to go comically insane whenever the need arises.  For instance, there has been a lot of singing in our house as of late, some of it horrendously off-key.  There's been some screaming (as in "Mom's going to SCREEEEEEAAAAAAM!").  And spraying of children with water.  And random noogies.  And a ton of mooing and honking and neighing at passing animals.  Well, the animals aren't passing.  We're passing the animals in the car, not the other way around.  No, the animals aren't in the car, we're the ones in the car.  The animals are usually just sort of standing there.  As we pass them.  And moo or honk or neigh at them (it's kind of species specific).

As a means of amusing myself and the small people I live with, I've also been making lots of new food faces, which are a trademark of summer in our family.  The coolest thing about food faces is that no matter how long Mrs. Crankypants may have visited in the morning, when lunchtime rolls around, I am always the most spectacular mom ever.  Like Mrs. Awesomepants or something.  Or at least her first cousin.

Feel some insanity coming on, moms?  Life is crazy...don't hold back.  Go bananas...or kiwis...or plums...or even nectarines.  Who knows?  You could be Mrs. Awesomepants' first cousin, too.



  Blueberry Nerdman                                         Cheesy Bug Men



Okay, so I'm not responsible for what I write after midnight.  But seriously?  I hope someday my kids remember me for all the crazy, fun, and slightly insane things I did instead of for all the times I blew it.  Note to self: kill Mrs. Crankypants. 

Little Girl, Big Decision

"Mom, someday I'm going to ask Jesus into my heart!"

These are the first words I heard today from my five-year-old daughter, Miss J.  "What are you waiting for?", I asked.  She shrugged her little shoulders.  I wondered aloud if she knew what it meant to ask Jesus into her heart, to which she answered "Not really."

Thus began a brief conversation with myself, my husband, and Miss J.  Not one we haven't had before.  We talked about sin, and how we all sin.  How we can't ever be good enough to be with God, because God is perfect.  How Jesus died to save us from our sins, and how we just need to be sorry and believe that He died for us to be with Him someday in Heaven.  To have His Spirit dwell within us, to have Jesus "live in our hearts".

She knew this all before.  None of it was new to her, in fact, she answered every question correctly, just as a little girl raised in the church would.

But something was different this time, and I'll tell you what it was.

Miss J acknowledged that she was a sinner. 
She now understands that she needs saving.

Being only five-and-a-half years old, this is a new concept for her.  Miss J is an especially compliant child by nature, rarely pressing the limits set by Mom and Dad, and almost never requiring discipline beyond a few stern words and the occasional time-out.  She kind of floats through life with a smile on her face, being silly and sweet and staring off into space like her ADHD mother.  People generally like being with her, and like I said, she's just an easygoing, compliant child.

It's easy to see why she might think of herself as being "good".  For as far back as she can remember, she's seen her older brother and sister get into trouble.  Lots of it.  She's heard them be disrespectful, she's seen them kick and scream and throw horrible tantrums.  She's witnessed stealing, lying, and outright disobedience, but she's rarely, if ever, done any of these things herself.  She's just watched.  And of course, although it's never once been said, she's assumed that "they" are "bad", and "she" is "good".

And don't we sometimes do the same thing?  Don't we hide behind our belief that we are "good people"- people that don't need saving?  We may have a few areas of our lives we're not proud of, but at least we're not as bad as those "other" people....the ones that cheat on their spouses or embezzle money or steal cars or murder children or do drugs or have casual sex outside of marriage.  Now they need saving....but me?  I'm a "good person".

And maybe, by the world's standards, you are a good person.  Just like Miss J.  And maybe, just maybe, you're on the verge of discovering something new, like my baby girl did this morning.

^"for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God,"  Romans 3:23 (emphasis mine)

We all have faults.  We all have evil in us somewhere.  We've lied, we've cheated, we've hated, we've lusted, we've been content to sit our days away instead of accomplish.  We've been arrogant, selfish, thoughtless, greedy, ungrateful, stingy, immodest, judgemental, and unkind.  We've disrespected our husbands, been harsh with our wives, humiliated our children, and denied our Creator.  We are sinners.  Every last one of us.  And we all need saving.

I'm incredibly proud of my little daughter today, and it's not because she's obedient, sweet and silly.  It's because for the very first time, she's looking at what's wrong with her instead of what's right with her (in her own words, that she doesn't always obey Mom and Dad, and she fights with her brothers and sister) and she's come to a pretty major conclusion.  She needs Jesus. Today she decided on her own to tell Him that, and so she's accepted the free gift of salvation.

A long time ago, I looked at my own life and recognized the same thing...and it's as true today as it was all those years ago.  I need Jesus, too.

What about you?


²² This righteousness is given through faith in Jesus Christ to all who believe. There is no difference between Jew and Gentile, ²³ for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, ²⁴ and all are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus. ²⁵ God presented Christ as a sacrifice of atonement, through the shedding of his blood—to be received by faith.   Romans 3:22-25

An Attachment Problem of My Own

She's opening herself up again.

School has been out for a month and a half.  She went through her usual summer tantrumming cycle, let out a lot of anger and ugliness at the fact that she's not in control here like she's been allowed to be at school (especially with her friends), and has finally gotten used to being around me and the family twenty-four hours a day.  And all of a sudden, Miss M has started to care what I think about her again.

She's opening herself up to me.

The horrible detached snottiness that started up sometime during the winter or early spring has all but vanished.  Her flippant premature-teenaged attitude of "I don't care what you want or say or think" is gone, and in its place is a wide-eyed, scared little girl, terrified of rejection.  Terrified of me.

She's actually been apologizing when her behavior has left something to be desired, and the last two times we've sent her to the tantrum chair, she's decided not to throw a tantrum at all.  She's just sat there quietly.  Weird.  And strangely cool.

When I've reprimanded her for being rude...or careless...or for waking up the baby...her chin begins to quiver and her eyes fill with tears.  Yesterday, I found her crying on the stairs and had to reassure her that even though I get frustrated, I still love her.

She's been asking to hold my hand.  She's been attacking me from behind with random hugs.  She's actually been trying to do what we ask of her, often with a pleasant attitude.  And she's been drawing me pictures and leaving love notes for me.  She's allowing herself to be vulnerable.  Right now, she wants to attach.

But this isn't the first time this has happened.  And I know it won't last.

This happens on and off throughout the year, usually when she's coming down from a particularly bad spell.  I think it's her way of asking "Do you still love me?  Can I still be your little girl?".  It's when most of the bonding and healing in her heart takes place, when she's closer than ever to being the child God created her to be.  But it's also the time that I struggle the most.

You see, I have an attachment problem of my own.  There are only so many times a human being can be rejected before they begin constructing walls to protect themselves, and when it comes to Miss M, I am hundreds of instances over my limit.  My walls are a mile high at best.  She and I have something in common.

After nearly five years of pouring myself out for this child over and over again, I'm empty.  My compassion is gone.  I have little to no real desire to connect with Miss M on a deeper level anymore.  I can't stand the thought of cuddling with her or covering her face in mommy-kisses, I physically recoil at her unexpected touches, and I often resent the time spent with her when I could be with one of my other kids.  My husband feels exactly the same way.  Truth is, we don't need her.  We have four other children that soak in our love like sponges, none of whom will turn around in a few weeks and punish us for loving them.

As strange as it sounds, I'm better at mothering Miss M when she's throwing tantrums all the time.  I'm used to it.  It's comfortable.  I've learned how to detach myself from the screaming and fit-throwing, and usually even from the disrespect, and I've gotten really good at relying on God to reassure her at the end of each tantrum.  To hug her, hold her, tell her I love her, pat her on the back and move on.  But I never actually have to bond with her.  I kind of just....manage her.

We're walking right now in a territory that is completely uncomfortable for both of us.  She's stopped fighting, at least for now, and is showing what I've always known to be true: she needs me desperately.

So I ask for your help.  Please pray for me.  Pray that I will have the desire and the courage to form a lasting mother-child bond with her, even though she will undoubtedly throw it back in my face.  Pray that I don't give up when she hurts me again.  Pray that I will remember to rely on the Holy Spirit to parent her every moment of every day instead of only in the short bursts I'm accustomed to.  She needs me to be fully engaged - fully loving, fully forgiving - in order to have a chance at healing.  So please pray with us.

I truly do care about my daughter's future.  I want her to heal.  I just can't do it alone.