Fiction Fast

It's no surprise to all of you that I love to read. When I am honest, I admit that novels are my favorite. Additionally, I have a weakness for children's lit, young adult fiction, and fantasy. I am the queen of getting through an entire series in less than a week, yes, even with five kids. But I realize that balance is important and left to my own devices, I am not balanced at all. Ever.

This crazy kid is not taking a break from books any time soon.

So, a couple times a year, I take a month or so off from novels to kind of reboot my system. This year I decided to take the whole season of Lent. Unfortunately for me, I didn't think through the fact that a) Lent is a lot longer than a month and b) Lent is occurring right at the beginning of a huge season of transition during which I emotionally really (really) (no, really) want to take occasional breaks from my own life. Consequently, this round of novel free time has been embarrassingly uncomfortable. Sure, I have other books to read, but nonfiction doesn't take me out of my own life and deposit me somewhere else in quite the same way. Instead, it inevitably forces me to really think through big life questions. This is exhausting and has to be done in small increments.

Sure, taking a break from fiction has freed up my time to do other things--presumably, write--but I had to get through a couple weeks of intense withdrawal symptoms first. My initial response was to start deep breathing and remind myself that I only had to get through forty days of this (plus Sundays--thanks for the sucker punch, Lent). I started treating this fiction fast like labor: take a deep breath and get through this calmly knowing there will be an adorable baby and no more pregnancy on the other side. But then I realized that I was missing the point.

And here is a super old picture of Bee reading.
Look at those cheeks.
I might teach her to read now that I'm not wasting
all my time reading novels...

We fast during Lent not to "get through it" but to position ourselves so that we can see more clearly our need for Christ. If this is the case, then my fiction fast is extremely effective. First, I've seen (again) how much I numb myself through entertainment so that I can tough it out and get through things instead of acknowledging the emotional struggle that is just under the surface. Second, I've seen (again) how often instead of coming to Christ in prayer, I ignore what's actually going on by reading. Third, I've seen (again) how my coping mechanism helps me feel in control of my circumstances instead of acknowledging that I'm not in control but I serve a trustworthy God who is. These are all good things to learn but man, they are a punch in the gut.

And this punch in the gut brings me back to the Gospel. On my own, I will never be good enough. I will always want my own way. I will always choose something other than God, even though I know that he is the greatest good there is for me. But thank God, he sent his Son to die for my sins, paying the price so that I can be healed from all that distorts who God originally intended me to be! Only through Christ can I find wholeness, which he gives me as a gift every time he gives me himself. And that is something that I'm never going to find in a novel, no matter how well written.

So what about you? Are you fasting from something for Lent? If so, what? and why?

Dinosaur Bones and Gratitude

I took the kids to a museum this week to see dinosaur bones. I've been promising to take them to this museum since last summer, so...it was about time. We did have great fun. Especially Twinkle who discovered that if she yelled loud enough, I'd take her out of the ergo and let her run around like a big kid. I got a lot of exercise saving her life and the lives of various innocent museum artifacts. We also discovered that Bruiser has no shame about reaching over the dividers so that he can touch the actual T-Rex. Anyway, the kids got to look at dinosaur bones and pretend to be paleontologists and learn more about Texas history, and I got to feel like a good mom. Win, win.

   

However, as we were leaving, one of my children (who shall remain unnamed) started whining about how he didn't want to leave yet (I realize that pronoun usage gives away that the whiner was neither Bee nor Twinkle, but you probably could've guessed that anyway as both of my daughters are paragons of virtue...and one of them doesn't talk yet). I pointed out, in my most loving and patient mom voice, that his baby sister was heading into meltdown mode, one of his brothers had reached his limit on over stimulation, it was closing in on dinner time, and we were about to hit rush hour traffic going home (we did hit rush hour traffic--these things seem preordained). He gave in with less grace than I appreciated.

Then as we got to the car, a different child told me cheerfully (and without any prompting) how much he enjoyed our time at the museum and thanked me for taking them. Be still, my beating heart. Take a guess which response made me happier. And which kid was happier in the moment, which may be the more pertinent point.

As we drove home (and got stuck in rush hour traffic), the contrast between my children's responses stuck in my brain. They'd both enjoyed the museum, but one had responded in gratitude and the other with complaint. It made me think about how I'm responding to our upcoming move. Am I saying, with a slightly more adult version of whining, "But God, I don't want to go! I'm not ready yet!" Or am I taking the opportunity to express gratitude for the amazing time we've had here and thanking him in advance for what's coming next, knowing that, if he can provide so much good here (and the last place we lived, and the place before that, etc.), then I can rest--knowing that he will give just as much, if not more, at the next place.

We can't always control our circumstances, but we can always make the choice to believe that we have a good Father orchestrating events that will bring about growth, goodness, and joy (even when they come with discomfort and occasionally pain). So this week I'm giving thanks for a good two years here--for good friends, a wonderful church, a great neighborhood, librarians who've helped stuff our book bags, football teams for the boys, a great preschool for the twins, and so much more--while looking ahead knowing that God has good at the next stop too.

The Last of the First

This week I wrote over on our church's blog after we wrapped up the birthday celebration of our Bonus No-Longer-A-Baby. You're welcome to go read about the paradox of rest and hardship over there, but over here I'm going to share a few pictures from Twinkle's birthday...because I can.

Before you ask, no, we did not have a party for Twinkle's first birthday. Everybody knows first birthday parties are more for the parents than the kid, and since neither the Man nor I are much for parties: NO PARTY! Yay! Someone somewhere is deciding at this minute that I am a total Grinch. I have no problem with that.

Anyway, here is a picture of Twinkle, enjoying her last couple days of being a baby. Although, question: once they start walking (nine months for this over achiever), are they still technically babies or have they upgraded to toddlers already?

I included this completely unnecessary picture of Bruiser, just because I love his cute face. Also: when did he get so big? 

Here is Twinkle, post birthday pancakes, waiting patiently for her presents (of which she has no concept, whatsoever). The Man took advantage of the fact that she was not in a rush for presents and washed all the dishes while our food digested. I took advantage of the fact that she was not in a rush for presents--and the Man was knocking out dishes--and had fun taking pictures of my many offspring.

Littles has reached the phase where he lovingly tolerates me most of the time. This is probably because, as he told me last week, he's "almost ten". Stop rounding up, kid.

 Tiny, blurring the camera slightly with his adorability.

Bee is turning into my right hand woman around the house these days, whenever I can manage to pry her away from Bruiser.

The boys still like to rub it in that they outnumber us. Although Bruiser told me last week that God has another baby for us, so maybe God will miraculously tie us up later in the year. *Cue hysterical laughter*

I just put this one in here because Bee is pretty and I like looking at her. Don't judge. It's my blog: I can do what I want!

Here's the Man helping Twinkle figure out her presents. I did not include the dozen photos of Twinkle looking confused as we tried to get her to rip the paper or the ones of her poking her new baby doll in the open-shut eyes repeatedly or the ones where she played happily with the tags on her new clothes for five minutes. One year olds are so entertaining.

This kid was not in our original plans, but we are so grateful that God upended them. She is a joy in our home, even on the fussy days and interrupted nights. Plus, she finally realized my dream of having a child with a dimple.

The star blanket Twinkle is lying on was made by her birthday buddy. It's featured repeatedly in the photos I've taken this year and is one of my favorite things.

These kids are inseparable. I asked them if they were nervous about making new friends after our next move, and they looked at my like I was crazy. Why would they need friends? They have each other. This is totally unrelated to Twinkle's birthday. Sorry about that. I'm off theme. It's been a long morning...but it was taken on Twinkle's birthday so that should totally count.

A couple more shots from the completely raucous party we had for our one year old. She seems really broken up about it.

My kind of kid: no birthday is complete without books.

Birthday cupcakes! Technically this is the one I personalized for Bruiser, who plans to grow up to be a dragon, but I was so proud of how it turned out that I totally wanted to show it off and have you guys all tell me how amazing it looked. But I'm burying it deep down in my post that probably no one will read (other than my family) so that I still look humble.

Twinkle pulled the chocolate off her cupcake, daintily dipped it in her icing and then bit it off. She wasn't as excited about the actual cupcake, but kid knocked out those chocolate stars and most of the icing.

Last picture: happy post-cupcake Twinkle before the sugar rush kicked in. Then we got her outdoors so she could cheerfully run up and down by the turtle ponds and get the crazy out of her system. 

So there it is: our last first year of baby done, and enjoyed to the fullest, which I guess is the major benefit of realizing just how quickly it goes. It has gone quickly this year, and I don't think that was just because she started walking so early, but maybe it was. Either way, I sure am grateful for this kid, even if she's a daddy's girl. Because really: who can blame her for that? The Man is pretty awesome.