New Writings

Hello, all - I am back into writing a little more regularly now so I plan to do more postings...Yes, I know I have said this before but hey, give a girl some grace...These next few postings are coming from the newsletter I write for my MOPS group (Mothers of Preschoolers) so you will see a more spiritual side of me since this is a faith-based group. I try to tie my subject into our theme for the day and add a relevant verse from the Bible so enjoy! I am continuing to write in both the secular and non-secular so don't pigeon-hole me! :) Enjoy!

The Stockings WERE Hung

‘Tis the season has officially begun and as always, the day after Thanksgiving my hubby and I decided it was time to pull out the Christmas decorations and get the tree up so the holiday cheer could spread throughout our family. It was like a walk down memory lane as I unpacked the many decorations and ornaments that made me think of people I love or events, such as the first Christmas with my hubby and “Baby’s First Christmas” ornaments, that forever changed my life for the better. I am a lover of traditions—my mother always made sure that I, as an only child, had plenty of holiday traditions and this desire has carried over to me as well. Needless to say, now that my oldest is almost four years old, it is becoming very fun to discuss the holidays with her and begin our own family traditions. With this in mind, we put the tree up on Friday afternoon but waited until Missy Moo was home (she was visiting my mother) to decorate it. After our pizza dinner, we all retreated to the living room where we had holiday music on the iPod (my husband is particularly fond of “Mele Kalikimaka” so this kicked off our tree-decorating event) and a fire burning in our fireplace—it was all very “Norman Rockwell-ish”. Or so I thought…
Quarrels began to break out over various ornaments (Bubba Boo wanted to look at the Cinderella ornament and Missy Moo would not allow this because, God forbid, he is a boy and boys don’t look at Cinderella ornaments) and where they would be placed. Bubba Boo, having just mastered the word “ball”, began to pelt the glass Christmas balls around the living room while delighting in the fact that he could say the word associated with the object and Ellie, our five year old yellow Labrador Retriever proceeded to let out what we like to call “green smoke” after a particularly tough day on her digestive system. As I realized that my Norman Rockwell moment was just not really like I had planned it to be, I remembered that I did have a fun new tradition tucked in the closet called “The Elf on a Shelf”. It is a cute story accompanied by an elf that sits on a mantle, or anywhere else, in your house and I thought this would save the moment for sure. Hubby and I rallied everyone up to take baths and put on jammies because we have a “guest” coming (the elf) so they did so eagerly and happily. When it came time for us all to pile on the couch and read the story, it was wonderful—just as I had imagined. After the story, I then got up to place the elf on the mantle and Bubba Bool followed me, curiosity in tow. The stockings were held in place by wrought iron stocking holders in various Christmas shapes and Bubba Boo, with the curiosity of a 19 month old, pulled on one of them only to send the iron Christmas Tree stocking holder straight down on top of his little face that had been looking up at it so innocently. Blood began to spurt, tears began to fall, and screams could be heard, I am sure, for miles. Not quite how I had planned to end our evening, but after I got the children down for the night, I had to chuckle at the quote for the day from my motherhood inspirations calendar I purchased from Jill Savage (love it and highly recommend it) - Julie Barnhill stated “Motherhood ushers in (often with trumpets) a dawning awareness that things just aren’t going to go as we’d first planned or imagined.” Doesn’t God have the funniest sense of humor? Bubba Boo now has two big gashes on his left cheek - just in time for our family Christmas card picture! Regardless, that little face is beautiful no matter what so it will have to suffice for this year and make a great story in the future.

“For unto us a child is born…” Isaiah 9:6

Thank you, Thank you, Thank you...

During this period in time in which we all reflect on what we are thankful for in our lives, I find my mind wandering to one of my favorite authors, Anne Lamott, a sometimes controversial, VERY liberal writer who tells it like it is with such gifted use of the English language that I can oversee some of her ideological views that clash with my own. Anne is a devoted Christian and regularly attends a gospel church in Marin County, California. She is in constant conversation, or so it seems, with God and I must admit, her faith is such a solid rock to her that you can’t help but find yourself trying to focus on doing the same. Two years ago, I had the pleasure of attending a lecture she gave at St. Luke’s United Methodist Church in Indianapolis and a small group break-out session the following day with just Anne. To say it made me love her even more is an understatement—there were so many great pieces of wisdom that flew out of her mouth that I decided to stop trying to write it all down and just focus on listening and being in the moment. Perhaps the most wonderful thing I walked away with was the simple prayer she says throughout the day of “Thank you, thank you, thank you…” I realized that, hey—I can do that! Prayer does not necessarily have to be a time in which we isolate ourselves from everyone and sit down to meditate though it is certainly wonderful when I am able to find the space to do so. Prayer and being thankful to God can come while rinsing off the breakfast/snack/lunch/snack/dinner dishes or while we fold another load of laundry (assuming that you fold laundry, of course!). It can be as simple as talking to God about the difficult concept of grace and how God gives us so much that we cannot possibly fathom his ability to do so. It can be while we are changing yet another stinky diaper and it certainly can come when we are drying tears from a skinned knee or hurt feelings. Thanking God is easy to do when we remember that he is always there—his omnipresence allows us to know we are not alone when we think we are and assures us that he does indeed have a plan for us. The other aspect of this prayer that I love is just the sheer gratitude that saying “thank you, thank you, thank you” expresses to God. It is a short breath prayer but yet communicates so much. You don’t even have to list specific things you are grateful for as God knows your heart and He knows what you value and cherish in your life. So during this sometimes overly-scheduled holiday season when we feel a little overwhelmed by cookies that need to be baked, turkeys that need to be cooked, and potatoes that need to be whipped, let’s remember to stop and simply say “thank you, thank you, thank you.” After all, to put things in perspective, we are all far richer than anyone could ever imagine. I once read that if you don’t ever have to worry about where your next meal will come from, you are blessed beyond belief—wouldn’t it be so wonderful if we all just remembered that simple thought throughout the busy holiday season? Breathe in, breathe out, and “thank you, thank you, thank you.”
In everything give thanks; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.
1 Thessalonians 5:18

The Good Enough Hostess

I remember a time in my life when I so looked forward to entertaining friends and family members in my home—good food, good wine, good music, good conversation... What’s not to like? Back in those days of yore, I would have a clean and well-decorated home, Diana Krall could be heard wailing from the iPod, and I had red wine and white wine glasses, fancy cheeses for appetizers, and candles in the guest bathroom. As I prepare to host my book club in my home at the present day, I must chuckle at the difference between now and then because, well, back then, EVERYTHING HAD TO BE PERFECT. Now, it’s OK if things are just “good enough”. Today, you will be a lucky guest in our home if you are not served your beverage in a sippy cup and you do not accidentally roller skate in our foyer due to random Matchbox cars underfoot. Laurie Berkner or Raffi will likely be our featured entertainer and instead of the fancy cheeses I used to purchase at specialty stores, you will most likely be munching on the Mickey Mouse cheese from Wal-Mart. It’s a possibility you could leave with a splitting headache from enduring an evening of the loud screeching my 18 month old is fond of and you may even be treated to a lesson in fashion and nail polish color selection by my three year old daughter. You might find a sticker stuck to your hind end after sitting on our couch (as was the case recently—I actually had a woman in Target stop me and tell me that I had a Cinderella sticker stuck to my seat) and if it gets too intense, I might thrust a four month old baby into your arms and allow you to feed him. He will then likely vomit on your shirt thus giving you the pleasure of smelling like my favorite fragrance, Eau de Good Start Formula. You will be a lucky guest if I am not in my pajamas/bathrobe when you come to the door and even luckier if I have brushed my teeth for the day. As crazy and unglamorous as this all sounds, to be honest, I would pick it any day over the childless hostess I had once been. I now know the value of handprints on my sliding glass door and purposely don’t dust them off. I realize now that no one really noticed if I had red wine glasses for red wine and white wine glasses for white wine. The fancy cheeses could have been replaced with more economical versions and no one would have known the difference. Though the screeching might make the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, I prefer his natural music to Diana Krall (though I do still love her…) Maybe it is because I am older and therefore wiser (HA!) or maybe it is because I have little people in my life that show me what is really important—regardless of the reason, I try not to put my family through misery before we are hosting guests in our home. Though I like the house to be clean for you, it won’t be perfect. You might have to tell me to replace the toilet paper in the guest bathroom or that there was a dirty diaper left in the kitchen trash can. You won’t leave our house hungry but you may not have the most gourmet meal on the planet. It’s really all about spending time together and at least you will know that we enjoyed your company and you will get a glimpse into the real life of our family. I stopped trying to be Martha Stewart and now just try to focus on enjoying our guests—the “good enough” hostess is “good enough” for me.
Offer hospitality to one another without grumbling—1 Peter 4:9

At the Pump

Since I can remember, one of my "most-inspiring-hall-of-famers" is Annie Sullivan, teacher of Helen Keller. I love her because she took a child who had been labeled as "unable to be educated" and actually did just that - educated her to go on to be one of the world's most brilliant minds despite the fact that she could neither see nor hear. That aside, Annie Sullivan used real-world examples and context to teach little Helen so that it was meaningful instead of relying on the drill and kill method that is so often utilized in this obsessively mandated test-taking world. My favorite scene of "The Miracle Worker" is when Annie takes Helen to the water pump, runs water over her hands and signs the word "water" directly into her palm. I love the lightbulb that goes off for Helen as she frantically runs around her lawn touching everything and holding out her hand for Annie to sign the word for her. So the other day I was dangling Bubba Boo over our kitchen sink in an attempt to wash his grubby paws before lunch. As the water poured over his chubby little fingers, I said "water" and his little face beamed as if to say "Cool mommy - I am getting this word thing” and I immediately thought of Annie and Helen at the pump. This then led me to reflect on what exactly I want to teach my children as well as HOW on earth am I going to do it and a few things popped into my head. First of all, there is no canned program, method, or theory that can educate your child more effectively than your actions. For this reason, I make sure that my children see that I am indeed human. I speak about my emotions freely, in fact, almost to a fault for just the other night as I was helping Missy Moo set the table for dinner she said, "Mommy, are you feeling grouchy?” I lose my cool and say things that make me feel like a horrible mommy that will psychologically damaged my children for the rest of time; however, I know that the right thing to do is say that I am sorry and admit that mommy was wrong. The world is not perfect and neither are we - we have good days, and days that are almost comical they are so bad. There are people who will wrong you, people who will put you down and make you feel like you are less than you are, and there are times when an hour feels like the longest period of time on earth. But on the other hand, there are more people who will right you, more people who will build you up, and days when you think an hour is just not enough time to do anything because it goes so fast. A moral compass cannot be changed or rocked in any way - regardless of the trials and tribulations one experiences, that core, that foundation should remain the compass and drive who we really are. No outside occurrence can shake this or take it away from you as it is your soul which was molded in your early years and is constantly shaped throughout your life. I remember telling the parents of the students in my classroom (yes, before I became a SAHM I was a second/third grade teacher) that they are their child's first teacher but I never really understood the power and magnitude of this statement until I had my own. Emotional core development occurs between the ages of zero to three years old so how can any teacher mold this part of my children? It's up to us to guide this development which is probably going to be my most valuable contribution to this planet after I am gone. To know that my hubby and I will work fervently to encourage our children to always do what is right makes me believe that it will sink in along the way somewhere and then when THEY have their own babes, they will do the same. It is how the cycle continues and the only way that I can foresee to truly leave the world a little bit better than how I found it. Life experiences take us back to the pump every time and force us to continue to mold who exactly we are and who we strive to be.
One generation will commend your works to another; they will tell of your mighty acts.
Psalm 145:4

Under the Big Top

Well, it’s official—this past summer I birthed my third, and last, installment of the Snapp Family. It is also official that I am now operating a full-blown three ring circus as many mom’s do; however, the entertainment at each ring seems to be so much more intriguing and demanding when the featured acts are three and a half years old, 16 months, and seven weeks. Upon reflecting on this year’s theme for MOPS, Adventures in Mothering, I had to chuckle—isn’t everyday a new adventure for each of us? God has entrusted us to bring up His little beings for such a short time and though I am often exhausted, disheveled, exhausted, scattered, exhausted, flighty, and did I mention exhausted?, there is no other adventure I would choose to take. Each of our homes are the “big top” that house our circus rings and girls, we all have rings regardless of if we have one child or ten! One never really knows what may happen in the course of a 24 hour period but the wise mom knows to begin each day with a “general outline” (never use the word “plan” - it is the quickest way to put that said plan into derailment) of what the day may entail but allow for some “excursions” to occur as well. In fact, my circus troop and I experienced a welcome excursion this past summer that became one of our biggest blessings. Bubba Boo, my very busy 16 month old, took hold of his daddy’s car keys one summer evening and unbeknownst to us, pressed the “lock” button on mommy’s key. The next morning, as my two children (third was still in my tummy at the time) and I went to the garage to embark on a myriad of errands, we were unable to get into our van since mommy always leaves her keys inside (I would never be able to find them otherwise)! Yes, our little Bubba Boo had successfully locked mommy’s keys in the car and our day of many errands had been halted! I irritatingly called hubby at work and expressed my frustration of not being able to do the one million things I needed to do before number three arrived, then went to Plan B—finding entertainment. We ended up just playing—no plan or structure—just playing. We blew bubbles. We played cars. We colored and did Play-Dough. We ate cookies. We splashed in our alligator pool and we had a picnic lunch. When my sweet hubby appeared during his lunch break to unlock our van, no one, especially me, was motivated to do anything other than what we were doing. God had planned for us to have fun that day, not run around in a hot car. Once my third little person, Spencer, arrived, I was grateful for that “last day of fun” that my other two children and I were able to have. Though I love my last baby dearly, my adventure with two children was about to change for a just as sweet, but different, adventure—an adventure with three children. God always has a plan for us and as we serve as the “Ringleader Under Our Big Top” it is best if we just acquiesce to His plan and follow his directives. He loves us and always works for the good. Here’s to a wonderful new year of adventure—new friendships, new discoveries, and most importantly, strength in our relationship with God, our husbands, our children, and love for all.