Are You Grumpy Today?

I was sitting in church when the pastor started out with a question:

“Are you grumpy today?”

I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.  It had been one of those mornings.

I got up early to make waffles and by 9:00 a.m. the kitchen looked like a tornado had swept through it.  Abby got syrup all over her new dress. Nick forgot to roll up his sleeves.  And Anna had sticky mouth.  I finally cleaned up the kitchen – and the kids -- and kicked on the dishwasher.  But it wouldn’t start.

This is the third time we’ve had to get this stupid dishwasher fixed this year.  We should have bought the extended warranty.

The dishwasher would have to wait.  I loaded the kids in the car – we were already running late – and I turned the ignition.  Dead battery.  After a quick jump, we’d be lucky to get to church before the sermon started.

Yes, I was grumpy all right.  I had my grumpy pants on, and I wasn’t about to take them off.  Not even for church. 

Yet in the midst of my pity party, I could hear God calling.  Very softly.  But very directly.

Always be joyful. Never stop praying. Be thankful in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you who belong to Christ Jesus.  (I Thes 5: 16-18 NLT)

I think he might be talking to me!

*******

Is it Friday yet?  Is anyone else grumpy?

The Devil Is In the Details!

 
I’m not a stickler for details.  I’m your big-picture girl.  It’s all about the ideas.  (And I’ve got some pretty big ideas.)  Someone else can be in charge of the minutia.

Today, on Working Mommy Wednesday, we’re talking about an inborn personality trait.  Let’s face it, there are some characteristics we are just born with.

A long time ago, I learned that there are two kinds of people.  Lumpers and Splitters.

In psychological terms, Lumpers see similarities instead of differences – we “lump” our thoughts together.  Lumpers focus on the overall goal and roll over the details. We assign categories in our brains broadly.
 
Not so for Splitters.  Splitters see differences.  And they assign new categories in their brains based on these differences, which means they tend to spot important issues but sometimes go off on tangents.  And we need both kinds of people to make our workplaces (and our homes) thrive. 

I’m a Lumper, which is good news and bad news. 

I always like to give the good news first:

• I don’t stress over the details. 
• I can usually see the big picture.
• I don’t mind delegating the little stuff.
• I focus on getting it done, it doesn’t have to be perfect!

Here’s the bad news.

• Sometimes, I move too fast.
• I get impatient with splitters.
• Missing details can result in mistakes.
• Even though I don’t mind delegating, my “ideas” are usually pretty darn specific (and I expect others to read my mind since I don’t labor over details).

A former boss once scolded me, “Susan, the Devil is in the details!”

I felt like shouting back to her, “No, the Devil is the details!”

Besides, that’s what Splitters are for.  (Have I mentioned that I am married to a Splitter?)

Do Small Children Bug You In Church?

It’s really hard to focus during the sermon when my four-year-old Abby is hanging on me, dropping crayons, or complaining that she wants a drink of water.  How are parents of young children supposed to engage in worship?  And what about the people sitting next to us?

Today, I’m linking up with Michelle DeRusha at Graceful for “Hear It On Sunday, Use it On Monday.”
I was going to link up last Monday for the kick-off, but I got a little distracted during the sermon, and I couldn’t pull my thoughts together for a blog post. It was one of those weeks where Mom Abby was particularly impatient. She kept getting out of her seat to go to the bathroom (she claimed she had a stomach ache) and when the pastor said “Amen” and the church was stone quiet, she blurted out rather loudly, “Is it over yet?”

Why do we drag her to church?  Why make a 4-year-old sit through a boring worship service when her older siblings are in Sunday School?   

To start, I for one believe that small children benefit from worship.  Abby knew the Lord’s Prayer before her ABC’s, and she bellows her words loudly and claps her hands and sways her hips to the music. I’ve been in some churches where this wouldn’t be acceptable, but our church in infested with children.  Lots of them.  (Heck, my Pastor Eric has 5 little ones of his own!)  Besides, we usually sit toward the back.

So why isn’t she in the 4-year-old Sunday School class that meets during worship?  The answer is simple.  Yours truly is her Sunday School teacher at the next service, so after worship we’re off to Sunday School.  Together.

What did I learn from the sermon this week?  Lots.  So much that I’ll have to save it for another post.  Instead of worrying about Abby, I adjusted my attitude and expectations.  I decided that for this season of my life, I’m going to enjoy the warmth of a sweaty 4-year-old on my lap who has to go to the bathroom.  And when she prays the Lord’s Prayer at the top of her lungs, I’m going to savor every word. The next time she gets antsy, I might even let her out early to get a drink.

Now, I’m headed over to Graceful.  For those of you who haven’t met Michelle DeRusha, she’s a rocking (not shopping) mom who works at NPR, has her own newspaper column, and blogs like an angel.  And she’s not buying herself clothes for a year!  Sounds like someone I can learn from!  (She’s also newly represented by the extraordinary Rachelle Gardner, and I really can’t wait to read Michelle’s memoir once it’s in print.)

Does Exercise Make You A Better Mom?

I wanted to get up early and exercise, but I hit the snooze button instead.  I had already stayed up too late the night before pounding on my laptop – it was time to bask in a few moments of extra sleep.  After all, with all the demands of work, home, and everything in between, who has time to exercise?

I just can’t add one more thing to my schedule.  It will have to wait until next month or even next year.


But wait a minute.  Before I throw in the towel and give up, I need to be intentional about this.  Maybe a regular exercise routine will improve both my spiritual and physical state.  Maybe it will even make me a better mom.  After all, research tells us that exercise reduces stress.  In fact, it even puts you in a better mood.  And truth be told, I was a little grouchy this morning.  I even snapped at Anna for putting her shoes on too slowly and I yelled at Nick for leaving his lunch box at school.

I’m the perfect candidate for exercise.  But I’m also too busy.  So, what’s the solution?

For starters, I really hate cookie-cutter answers.  Which is why I never buy books that claim things like “10 secrets to making exercise a priority” or “how to manage your health and your job.”  So if you are looking for a 5-step program with some profound answers, please stop reading.  You just might be disappointed in what I have to say.  (Besides, others have written some useful tips on this subject such as Working Moms and Working Out.)

My advice?

You have to find a solution that works for you. 

For me, it means having a plan – and having accountability.  Which is why I signed up to run my first half-marathon this Spring with my niece.  (Hey, I might not finish, but having a tangible goal is going to get me out of the covers and onto the pavement!)  You’ll probably find a different solution. 

I’m convinced that exercise will make us better moms, dads, spouses, friends, professionals, and even writers. The easy part is talking about it. The hard part is doing it!

Do You Follow Doctor’s Orders?

 
Who knows what’s best for my health?  Me (who has no medical training whatsoever) or, a licensed medical professional?

Today, on Working Mommy Wednesday, we’re talking about something we’re bad at.  You guessed it, I’m bad at following doctor’s orders.  Let’s just say I’m a bit stubborn. 

For starters, I hate going to the doctor.  I hate the sight of blood, and most medication makes me vomit.  One of the reasons I respect those who choose the medical profession?  I could never do it.

And I do mean never.

For the record, hospitals creep me out.  They’re too sterile.  Too lifeless.  Too depressing.  Which is why I tried to break out early when I had my third-born, Abby.  (The nurse was ready to call security.)  Which is why I never finish my prescription medicine.  (Who needs drugs when you’re feeling better?)  Which is why I tend to self-diagnose every aliment on the internet.  (Who needs the hassle of an office visit when you have WebMD?)

I also can’t stand waiting rooms.  The doctors are always running late, and someone always tries to make me turn off my cell phone.  Or, worse – I’m forced to stop tweeting because some nurse thinks the internet connection will interfere with the x-ray machine.

But, wait.  Before you think I’m a terrible mother, you should know one thing.  When it comes to my children, I usually break my own rules.  I rush my kids to the doctor’s office for every sniffle, we finish all the medicine, and I even turn off my cell phone in the waiting room.  (Ok, not always, but I definitely turn it off if there’s an x-ray machine in plain view.)

I’m even known to follow doctor’s orders.  Unless of course my motherly instincts are telling me to instead follow my gut. 

Didn’t God give us instincts for a reason? 

The Work Of A Lawyer

I’ll never forget how hard it was to wait. Those last two days and two nights seemed like an eternity.
What could be taking the jury so long? Hadn’t we put on a solid defense? Was it really that close? And what kind of system puts an important dispute in the hands of eight complete strangers?

I was starting to second-guess myself.

[Join me at The High Calling to continue]