Too Many Johns

I, too, am a confirmed introvert. I am totally energized by being by myself.

Then mornings like this happen and I wonder what on earth possessed me to put myself in a situation where this much craziness ensues:

6:00AM – Alarm goes off. I’m supposed to get up so that I can get a run in before my day really starts. In retrospect, I think it was probably the right call to hit snooze as many times as I did…

7:00AM – I finally drag myself out of bed. We’ve started a total bathroom renovation of our only full bath, and the week has been draining. I fix my coffee and grab a leftover pancake from yesterday’s breakfast. I sit in my favorite recliner and read a book for half an hour while my husband sits next to me and works on plans to build a vanity. His name is John.

8:00AM – My darling three-year-old gets up. Shortly after, her five-year-old sister joins us to cuddle in the living room. Meanwhile, the plumber/electrician/generally-awesome-guy-who-knows-how-to-do-everything shows up to start work in the bathroom. His name is John.

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When the words are just what you need to hear

My friend Elizabeth makes me think.

I’m pretty sure all truly good friends make us think; the kind of thinking that results in spiritual encouragement. A couple of weeks ago, she wrote something simple to me in an e-mail that hit me right away as just the truth I needed to hear. She said that my kids, my family, they are the community I spend the most time with right now.

And there it was. Truth I needed to hear and reflect on.

My husband was away for five days playing drums at a worship event out of town and on the day I received that email from her, the kids and I were at the end of our second day of not leaving the house. Two days of being cooped up together with temperatures over 90 degrees so the kids couldn’t go out and play.

Preface to what I’m about to say: I love being a mom. My kids bring me joy and fulfillment beyond words. We are overall a happy and loving family. That said, at the end of the second day, I had a headache and my two-year old, who is at the brink of several big breakthroughs (potty training and expressing complex thoughts and such) was particularly cranky. You know how they’re always unusually cranky when they’re about to do something big but haven’t quite grasped it yet. I was down and out. I had all these plans when my husband left; all these things I was going to accomplish. When he got back our toddler would be potty trained, the kids and I would have done several adorable craft projects, gone to the jump house place, spent time with friends, gone swimming, the laundry room would be cleaned and organized, I would have a clear homeschool plan for the school year….. it went on.

I know. Why would a person set herself up for failure like this?

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