Tag: work

Tithe

Last week was a crazy week. This week has been much more calm, and I’ve had some time to process. So, it all started two weekends ago, actually, when a car that we normally couldn’t afford showed up at my husband’s work (he works in the automotive industry) in exactly our price range. We had been discussing needing a new one in the near future – ours has the possibility of some transmission issues and our extended warranty has expired. We’ve always had issues with the air conditioning not being cool enough, and there’s no rear A/C, so it takes baby girl forever to cool down in the backseat in the summer. Plus, the paint looks awful (and I know that doesn’t affect how well the car drives, but it literally looks like I drove through an acid hail storm.) I did not think, however, we would be thinking about purchasing another one so soon. Anyway, this car turns up and it checks all the boxes on my “must-have” list for a new car: heated seats (we had these in a previous car and I miss them so much), heated mirrors, rear heating and air, and enough room for all our stuff – especially the mound of stuff we take on vacation with us. My husband inquired about the car and turns out, it was priced that low by mistake, but they’re willing to honor it. Well, that seemed too perfect. So, that night he and I discussed it, then I prayed about it before bed. I had a very clear dream that night that I asked God for a sign that we should buy this car, and He provided it. But, still clearer in my dream, God told me to give Him what was His first. We’ve been spotty tithers the last few years. At first, I blamed it on the new baby, then “mom brain” made me forget, but somewhere along the way I let it become of little importance in my mind. I’d give when I remembered, and sometimes not even then because we had extra bills that month or whatever. You don’t have to give me a tithing sermon, I know deep in my soul the importance of giving God back what He so graciously gives us. I just let it become a wedge. It kept separating me further and further from God’s plan for my life. It wasn’t good. Then a few months ago, hubby told me that our church was now doing automatic withdrawal for tithing. I know, it sounds sort of cold, but it was exactly the commitment and accountability I needed. I wanted to give, I just either let it slip my mind, or rationalized my way out of it when it came time to actually do it. I was not a “cheerful giver.” He and I both agreed that this was something we needed to do, but, again, for whatever reason, we hadn’t done it yet. So, when I had my dream, I knew exactly what we needed to do before anything else. Sunday we got the form and set up our tithes to be withdrawn from our account automatically.

Monday was incredibly warm for a February day. Our hot water had been running out pretty quickly for some time, so hubby went to Lowe’s and got an element to change out to see if that helped. Baby girl and I had already played outside, but daddy was going and she wanted to go too. I really had more work I needed to do, but I put it off until later and took her back outside (a 10 or 11 PM clock out time is pretty normal for me anymore.) Hubby got under the house and started working on the water heater. He came out a few minutes later and told me that the whole bottom of the unit had rusted out, and there was no way to fix it. My mind immediately started spinning. We had talked about, down the road that included a home improvement loan, putting in a tankless water heater. I start trying to figure out how to make something work, but my head just kept getting fuzzy. Too. Much. Big. Decision. Making. We talked about calling a plumber we know and discussing our options with him, but it was already like 5 PM, and it was supposed to rain the rest of the week. Hubby ended up finding a tank that would fit in our short crawlspace in stock at Lowe’s, so he went off to get that while I fed baby girl dinner. He got home and started working while I put baby girl to bed. I finally went out to check on him and I felt so helpless. I asked what I could do to help, and he said, “just keep me company.” There was a lot of crawling around in the dirt under the house, turning on faucets, and walking back and forth through the yard. My sweet husband was under the house on his hands and knees in the dark working so hard so that we could have hot water. He’s literally the best.

Tuesday morning baby girl woke up a few minutes earlier than usual screaming her head off. She had a stuffy nose, but other than that seemed fine. She ate a few bites of breakfast and said she was done. As the morning went on, I could tell she was congested. I called the pediatrician to find out the correct dosage for some benadryl, and we turned the shower on really hot and sat in the steamy bathroom for a while. When we got out, she really started acting pitiful. I could hear that she had some drainage in her throat, and she ended up gagging on it and throwing up. I thought that was all it was, but she ended up vomiting about 10 times throughout the day. She couldn’t keep anything down.

Wednesday she was almost more pitiful because you could tell she felt better enough to want to play, but she didn’t have the energy to. She barely ate all day, but did eat a fairly good dinner. We sat on the couch and cuddled most of the day.

Thursday she was much more like herself, with only a few pitiful moments in between. She still hardly ate anything. That morning I had so much energy. I changed the sheets and washed the dirty ones, started straightening up a spot in our bedroom that has been a mess since we moved here, did more laundry, did some proactive and productive things for work, did the dishes, and just straightened up anything else out of place along the way. I was so stinking productive. I was sitting on the couch working when baby girl woke up from her nap. I went to get up, and I noticed I was kind of sore all over. My throat had been a little scratchy that morning, but I figured it was sleeping with my mouth open. That afternoon, I could feel constant drainage running down the back of my throat, and it was getting progressively worse. By the time 3 o’clock rolled around, I was pretty miserable. That night I laid in bed and my arms and legs just ached. I could barely swallow and when I did I gagged on what was in my throat. My poor, sweet girl… no wonder she was pitiful. It was miserable. Luckily I skipped the vomiting part, but it’s now Monday night and I’m still not 100%

Sweet girl starting to feel better. Dressing up and a good book are a great remedy for the yuckies.

Baby girl and I stayed home from church yesterday so we didn’t spread our germs and I’m glad we did. She had a meltdown after she woke up from her nap that lasted an hour. I’m still not exactly sure what was wrong, but she acted like something hurt. We finally gave her some pain medicine and after it had just enough time to kick in, she finally calmed down. Even today, she’s had crying spells, she hasn’t wanted to walk much at all but instead wants to be carried everywhere, and we’ve sat and cuddled more than we’ve done anything else. I told my husband today that I’m not going to lie – I kind of like it when she starts whining [okay, I really don’t like the whining part] and says, “I need to cuddle mama.” There were months and months after she was born, maybe even a whole year, where she just did not like to cuddle. So, even though it’s not super conducive to me getting things done, it makes me happy to hear that she wants to cuddle. I do hate that it’s because she doesn’t feel good. We’re going on a week that she’s been off.

Anyway, we made a commitment to give God some of the money He has blessed us with, and look, satan immediately freaked out. He attacked us hard. Nope, I’m not taking that money back to pay for whatever you’re throwing at me. You can’t threaten me. I KNOW that when I bless God, a wonderful side effect of it is that He will bless me right back again. I have no room for your financial strains and sickness. Bye.

The point is this: whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows bountifully will also reap bountifully… He who supplies the seed to the sower and bread for food will supply and multiply your seed for sowing and increase the harvest of your righteousness.

2 Corinthians 9:6 & 10

So, obviously it’s Wednesday now…I started writing this last week and finished Monday. Word vomit. I think I write these things to process them, to kind of take a step back and see them from a different perspective than the one I have when I’m smack dab in the middle of it. Also, it’s way easier to recognize satan’s attacks when you take a step back. I think I also just want to remember these things. Broken water heaters and sickness are real life. It may not be the picture-perfect moment that I’ll remember 20 years from now, but it’s still our life right now.

Day.

It’s 11:28 PM and I just clocked out and laid down in the bed with my rice sock, because man do I ache. Today has just been a day. It’s been Monday. I’m exhausted.

I got so much done today… and still feel so very behind. Why are there not enough hours in the day to do everything? I feel like if I excel in some aspects, others get neglected. In a typical day, these are the things that I try to make time for:

• Breakfast

• Exercise

• Laundry

• Work

• Play + read with baby girl

• Lunch

• Dishes

• Bible time

• Dinner prep

• Tidying up

• Dinner

• Put baby girl to bed

• Time with hubby

I put out Avon books (which entails driving like 20 minutes out of town and putting books in paper boxes in our old neighborhood), somehow worked SEVEN hours, and did a lot of other things mentioned above. But I didn’t get to the laundry, and I neglected my bible time. The laundry can wait, I know, but not making time to spend with God is not good at all.

My husband is the best. I know I brag on him a lot, but he deserves it. He saw that I was still trying to work when he got home, so he packed up baby girl and went to the store to grab a few things we needed so I could work in peace for a while. I had also jokingly said I was craving alfredo, so he bought the necessary ingredients to make it and cooked it for me after baby girl went to bed. I don’t know what I would do without him. He sees the dishes need doing and does them. He cooks dinner almost every night. He helps me in so many ways and is just the best partner to go through life with.

I wrote this Monday night, but life hasn’t slowed down since. Last night I clocked out at 10 PM, so that’s an improvement, right? Working from home is not as glamorous as everyone might think. For me, it’s a constant battle in my mind between feeling guilty about not spending enough time with my kid and not being the best employee I can be. Ugh.

Also, can we talk about my husband some more? That night, he made linguine alfredo, last night he made hand-breaded pan-fried cod with fresh fries and mushy peas, and tonight he’s making steak frites. What in the world did I do to deserve this man and his cooking? Yum.

Um, yummy. I’ll just leave this right here.

Guilt.

I’m still having trouble writing. I think I’m a little worried about my health, and I’m feeling SO MUCH guilt over balancing work and spending time with baby girl. She’s to the point where she asks me not to work, to stay with her, to play with her. And yes, I get that I’m at least home with her. And yes, I know she will be fine entertaining herself for a while. She doesn’t understand those things, though. All she knows is that she’s trying to talk to me and I’m not responding. All she knows is that she wants me in her room with her while she plays. All she knows is that she’d rather be running around the house than stuck in a pack and play. And honestly, I’d rather be playing with her. I’d rather spend my time planning neat activities to do with her. I’d rather be reading her even more books. But then when I do that, when I spend the extra time with her and do minimal just-enough-to-squeak-by work, I feel awful as well. Then, I’m barely getting any hours, which means hardly any extra money for my family, and I feel like a sub-par employee. Someone please tell me where the balance is. Any activities for an almost two year old that can be done mostly unsupervised would be great too. Most days I’m at a loss anymore.

I’m trying so incredibly hard to hold onto each precious moment of this life we all have together, no matter how small. The other day, we spent a few minutes outside together in the November snow. Baby girl loved it so much, and it made my heart so, so happy. She loved walking in it, she tried to catch it as it fell from the sky, she brushed some off of her swing set and wanted to play on it. We had to almost drag her back inside. Before we went out, she and I had prepared dinner, and she helped me make a piecrust from scratch. I hope cooking together is something that she enjoys in the years to come. As much as her daddy and I love food, she’s probably kind of destined to be in the kitchen. At least, I hope anyway, haha. As much as I enjoyed the special moments we had, I literally worked an hour that day. AN HOUR. Great, now I can buy a fast food lunch out somewhere. Ugh.

My literal snow bunny.

The next day, I managed to get in a whole two hours of work, and only made a small dent in my to-do list. But, I read about a million books, rearranged baby girl’s stuff because we got her a bigger bookshelf, and cuddled a little girl who doesn’t usually like to cuddle. Did the laundry get done? Nope. Well, sort of. It was washed and dried… it just chilled in the dryer for the next few days. Did I get much of anything else done? Nope. I know I need to learn to be okay with these kinds of things, but man, do I get bent out of shape. Like I said, I need to figure out this balance thing. I also need to remember to give myself some grace.

Speaking of that… I wrote the above last week, and just let it sit in my phone. For the life of me I don’t know why I’m struggling with this whole blogging thing all the sudden. But, the other night I was reading through some notes in my phone, trying to remember my inspiration, and came across something I had written for myself and had already decided when I wrote it that I wasn’t going to share it. It was raw, it showed my flaws, and it honestly just made me look like a bad mother (I felt like, anyway.) But today, I was working and baby girl was in the pack and play and we had a moment. She was stubborn and defiant, and I lost my temper. It wasn’t great. I was doing my daily bible and prayer time after she laid down for a nap, and I was overwhelmed with the feeling that other people needed to see what we go through. Other people need to see that my child is far from perfect, but more importantly, so am I. So… here’s an account from July that, up until now, I haven’t shared out of fear of judgement.

I stayed home from church with baby girl today because I’m not feeling well and didn’t want to spread my germs. I kid you not, I just spent OVER AN HOUR trying to get my tired, cranky toddler to clean up the blocks she got out.

After a lot of me asking nicely and active avoidance on her part, it got ugly. I used my firm mom voice, then raised my firm mom voice, then just plain raised my voice because I really didn’t feel good and my patience was wearing thin. All of that was met with her attempts to distract me by going to get other toys and trying to give me cuddles. After telling her I wouldn’t ask her again, and her responding by giving me a coy smile and toddling away, I swatted her bottom – not hard, but hard enough to get her attention. She cried for about 5 seconds, and then went back to trying to “distract” me. Whew.

At this point, I’m mentally exhausted and we’re only about 20 minutes into this. I went and stood her in the corner and told her she had to stay there until she was ready to clean up her blocks. She didn’t mind, and started inspecting the tiny bumps on the wall. Only when she tried to move out of the corner did she get upset. I stood in her way and reminded her she couldn’t get out until she was ready to clean up her blocks. She started fussing and I asked her if she was ready to clean up. She said, “yes,” so I took her by the hand over to where her blocks were and told her to clean up. She did a couple, I praised her for good listening, she looked at me, got up and ran across the room to her bookshelf. She’s been obsessed with reading this box set of Disney books lately, so I tried to use that to my advantage. “Do you want to read books?” “Yeah, read!” “Okay, you have to clean up your blocks and then mama will read to you, okay?” She just stares blankly at me. (And before anyone says she didn’t understand, she did. We do this bargaining thing all the time. Ex. If she wants a bite of something we have, we tell her to eat a bite of meat or whatever we’re trying to get her to eat first, and she does it. I frequently give her two step instructions, and she carries them out perfectly. SHE UNDERSTANDS.) So, at this point, I’m quickly losing my cool, and I literally have to leave the room. I look her in the eye and tell her that mama is going across the hall, and that I will come back when she’s picked up her blocks. I leave and shut the door. In hindsight, it probably wasn’t the best decision to just walk out on an already emotionally unstable toddler and leave her alone with her big feelings, but this mama was about to be emotionally unstable as well if I didn’t take a step back from the situation for a second. She stood at the door and hysterically screamed her head off until I went back in there a few minutes later. Realizing that that probably wasn’t the best way to handle that, I scooped her up, wiped her face, and told her I was sorry. I sat in the chair in her room and just held her for a few minutes. I couldn’t see her face because it was buried in my shoulder, but I noticed her breathing had changed. I kind of shift her to see her face, and she’s sound asleep. Then I feel really bad. She’s just tired. I get grumpy when I’m tired too. So, I just hold her for a few minutes and let her nap in my arms. I shift again and she doesn’t wake up, so I’m thinking she’s super sleepy. I get up, close the curtains, turn on her sound and go to lay her down. I get her halfway into the bed and she starts whining, “mama.” I’m mentally and physically exhausted (she probably was too) so I’m like, okay, but I’ve got to lay down. So I carry her into my bedroom and lay down with her in my bed (which we never do.) She immediately pops up and says, “eat!” [Now, before anyone decides to judge me for what I did next, please keep in mind that she had already eaten a good breakfast, and then, just like an hour and a half before all this started, ate an ENTIRE pumpkin muffie from Panera. She wasn’t starving.]

It was lunchtime, but I told her she had to go pick up her blocks so we could go get lunch. We go back in her room, I sit her on the floor next to the blocks… here comes the screaming banshee again. I literally just sit there and stare at her while she screams. It was just an angry, frustrated cry that I had tried to soothe repeatedly. I wasn’t sure what to do. After several minutes of that, I figured she really might be getting hungry, because it was like thirty minutes past normal lunchtime at that point. I tried one more time getting down on her level, asking her nicely to please pick up her blocks. I got nothing but blood curdling screams. So, I put her hand in my hand and we picked up every single block together. I even had to use my hand to close her fingers around each block, because if I didn’t, she would let it fall back to the floor.

After that was finally over, I picked her up and let her lay on my shoulder and just hugged her. I explained that she had to listen to her mama. Whew. She usually always sits in the high chair to eat, but that almost led to another meltdown, so I chose not to fight that battle. She sat in my lap and ate a baby food squeeze pouch and part of a slice of cheese. A gourmet meal it was not, but it satisfied her enough.

We both were so ready for nap time. I’m hoping this does a world of good. Otherwise, it might be daddy’s turn to deal with the attitude for a while.

So, there’s that. We’ve only had one other huge blowup like this since then, because I’ve tried to not let it get to the point that I did that day. My girl is usually good. She’s usually pretty agreeable, or can be persuaded to do something pretty easily by offering something else. There was A LOT going on in our lives in July to begin with, and I ended up being sick for two weeks after I wrote this, so I really have tried to cut myself some slack. But, I felt awful about it. I literally agonized over how I handled it for days. At the time I wrote it, I was just trying to process it because every time I thought about it my thoughts got jumbled from all the guilt (I know, I’m so very weird). I couldn’t even put it into words enough to really explain it to my husband out loud, so I ended up letting him read what I wrote above. Motherhood is hard, guys. I’m just going to come right out and say it. The sweet moments are worth every second of worry and agony, but it’s still hard.

Me.

I haven’t written anything (besides my bible journal) in a while. I guess my recent anxiety is trying to hold on, because I just haven’t really felt like writing. I started typing out something similar to this the other night and got distracted. I just looked for it, and it was nowhere to be found – my phone deleted it. In talking with the husband, he pointed out that someone (ahem, satan) doesn’t want me writing. I’ve had an excuse why I shouldn’t or don’t want to the last several times I have sat down to do it. I was talking to him just now about it, waved my arms around (as I often do while talking… what can I say? I’m animated) and completely tossed my phone across the room as a loud, thunderous echo resounded through the house and down the hall to where I’m sure my sleeping toddler could hear. I literally started crying. A) because that proved right what he had just said… there have been so many distractions and emotional setbacks over the past few weeks that have prevented me from writing, and B) because I was stinking embarrassed. I’m a spaz, and I’ll be the first to admit it, but GOOD GRIEF. So, I guess I’ll just write. Whether I know what I’m going to say or not, whether I think it’s good or not. I’ve got to start again somewhere.

For those of you following my health, some new things have happened. Keep in mind: I am thirty one years old. I finally visited a primary care physician for the first time in my adult life. My blood pressure during my visit was through the roof, and the nurse practitioner I saw didn’t like it at all. We discussed a few options, and landed on a low dose of beta blockers. She said that not only would it help my blood pressure, but also my anxiety and migraines. So, I’ve been taking those for about a week and a half, and I have been checking my own blood pressure at home at least once a day. I’ve been told that I have white coat syndrome before, and I know that is a lot of why my blood pressure is high when I go to the doctor. I get so worked up about it… I even freak out using the machine at the grocery store. I don’t know what my problem is… I told my mom the other day that it hurts my arm, and I think that is part of the reason I get so upset – because I’m anticipating the pain. She said that it doesn’t hurt her, but that my granny used to always say the same thing – that it hurt. So, I’ve been taking it a lot lately, trying to desensitize myself to the cuff. The other day, I took it five times in a row because it was a little higher than it had been at first. I got it down substantially just by doing it over and over again – it literally went down a little every time. So, that’s where I am… constantly being aware of my heart rate and taking a “grandma dose” of blood pressure medication, as my nurse practitioner called it. I’m going to get labs done to recheck my cholesterol (fasting this time) and some other things this week. Then I will go back for a more comprehensive physical at the end of the month. It’s been so long since I have seen a doctor, I have a huge list of concerns… she’ll probably think I’m a hypochondriac. And she’ll probably be right. Everytime I have a random pain in my arms or legs, I pretty much convince myself that it’s a blood clot or that I’m getting ready to have a stroke. Yeah, that definitely helps my anxiety… The other night, I had sharp pains from my rib cage, up into my chest, and down my arm. I was pretty convinced I was having a heart attack. Then the husband pushed on my stomach, I let out a huge belch, everything shifted a little, and I realized it was probably just a gas bubble pressing on a nerve or something. Ugh.

Some other random thoughts:

Baby girl’s favorite word is “no” at the moment and she will disagree with whatever you say, it doesn’t matter what it is. She liked Halloween, but a boy in one of those blow-up dinosaur costumes really made her day. She keeps talking about it whenever anybody asks her about Halloween, and the last two nights, we’ve thanked God for dinosaurs in our prayers. She kills me. She’s also been very clingy the last few days. And as much as l love to hear her say, “cuddle mama,” I do have a job that I sort of have to do some of the time. It killed me this past week when I was working, and she kept coming over to my desk and saying, “mama play with you [me]?” How can I say no to that? How do work at home parents get work done? My job is only part time, and my new normal the last few weeks has been finishing up my work after she goes to bed (which, by the way, annoyingly cuts into husband time). Balance is hard. I feel guilty when I’m actually productive for work, because that usually means that baby girl has been left to entertain herself for hours, or has been dragged all over creation with me in the car. I also feel guilty when I spend the day with her, because I feel like I’m not contributing enough financially to our family. Mom guilt is rough.

A screen shot of a typical time sheet for me. Clocked in 12 hours, only worked less than five. A lot of times, it’s even less.

Baby girl and I have gotten back to taking morning walks. I love getting to spend the time with her, starting our day exploring outside, and getting in a small workout for me. Twice around our neighborhood is about a mile, and I know that’s not much. But, out of shape me works up a sweat and gets a couple thousand steps in. I figure that’s better than nothing.

Love our morning walks, even if we have to bundle up quite a bit now that the weather is chillier.

Well, now that I’ve broken the ice again, maybe I’ll get back to writing more regularly. I don’t know what kind of writing funk I’m in, but it can go away now. I’ll probably post a bible journal entry or two next time. I have several earmarked that I felt were important to share.

Vanity.

Vanity of vanities, says the preacher; vanity of vanities! All is vanity. What does man gain by all the toil at which he toils under the sun?

Ecclesiastes 1:2&3

Jim pointed out that Solomon qualifies his words with “under the sun.” He’s referring to worldly work and things; without God in our lives, all our work is vain.

Today was a very Monday-ish Monday. I’ve had a headache for days, but it was much worse today. And, I really screwed up something for work. I was feeling ridiculously stupid and lazy, and I was just down. Between my head pounding and the feeling of being the dumbest person in the world, I was not in a good place emotionally. I was sitting in my daughter’s room watching her play, and tried to distract my mind with my phone (looking back, praying probably would have been a better choice…) and saw an Instagram post from Amy Weatherly that about had me in tears:

Good grief, did that hit me hard. I’m sitting here, completely losing my cool over my “job”, and I’m forgetting everything I know. I forgot about my real job, to be found in Christ at all times. There I go again, allowing satan to use other people to get to me; allowing him to distract me is what got me into trouble in the first place. But, there God goes again, too, using other people to speak to me when He knows I’m too distracted to listen directly to Him.

Then, at like 8:30 tonight, I finally sat down to do this devotion (I was craving God’s word at this point, it’s been a day)…and here are these verses from Ecclesiastes. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I keep forgetting to give God EVERYTHING. Current example: my work. I’m not trying my hardest, because I’m not doing it for Him. I’m not doing a good job. My toiling is vanity, because I’m doing my job for money, for experience – not for God’s glory. What a hard reminder I had today.

Content.

This is the current journal I’m using for my daily bible devotions. Literally every day the cover makes me stop and think. I am grateful. No matter what life throws at me, no matter what the day brings, I am thankful. Sometimes, I just need a reminder.

Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. Philippians 4:11

That is the first verse I wrote out in this journal, on a day when I really needed it:

“Before I even sat down to write this morning, [my boss] called and needed me to take a check to the office in Lexington, and to run a personal errand for him while I was there. It’s days like this that really stress me out. I had already decided that I could get some background stuff done today on the computer and stay in my leggings… not happening now. I was really upset after that phone call. But then I picked up this brand new journal and on the very front was a reminder to be thankful. And then, Jim’s devotion was from this verse in Philippians… okay, I get it.

First of all, I need to be thankful that I have a job that allows me to make a little extra money for my family. And as much as I get flustered with my job sometimes, [my bosses] have been very flexible with my schedule and me taking time off for baby girl. I’m gaining valuable experience, and they trust me to do what needs to be done. It’s definitely not the worst gig in the world – most days, I can stay in my pajamas if I want, and I can plan my work around caring for my child.

Also, it shouldn’t matter what the day throws at me, I should be more like Paul. If my focus is on the eternal, then I can be content in whatever. What better opportunity than today to live that out? It’s easy to say I’m content when I can stay at home in my leggings all day, because that’s what I want to do. But, can I really put it into practice when things aren’t going the way I want or planned? I want to be so focused on God that I use whatever the world throws at me for His purpose and as an opportunity to live for Him. Lord, help me see things this way!”