Author: lardcupcakes

Y’all.

Brent and I celebrated our 13th Wedding Anniversary earlier this week.

We had plans to snag dinner Sunday night but our plans were derailed with 2 vomiting children, so we postponed.

On Monday, the no-longer vomiting children were feeling better, so we all ventured out to lunch at one of our favorite restaurants: Texas Roadhouse.

We park, unload and walk toward the restaurant entrance only to take notice of a very large, rainbow colored sucker in the shape of a specific male body part.

Yep.

You read that right.

A male body part.

Right there in the crosswalk of the parking lot.

Whatever image you have conjured up is probably right on the money.

Also, sorry about that.

Anyway, as we closed in on said object and in order to prevent curious questions, I quickened my stride.

*wipe forehead*

Crisis averted.

But, let us not forget the walk back to the van following lunch.

This time, Brent was leading the clan.

As he closes in on the object that shall not be named, he begins engaging in loud, rapid fire questions to Tempest.

“What’s that in the sky?”

*Tempest looks up*

“Look at the clouds!”

“Do you think it’s going to storm soon?”

“Wow, look at how fast the clouds are moving!”

“I think it’s going to rain. What do you think?”

Sprite is listening, though not entirely engaged, while Banshee and Torpedo are clueless.

Thank goodness.

But, Sprite does take notice of this item on the ground.

“Look away, please.”

“Why?”

“Please trust what I’m telling you and look away.”

Sprite replied, “Um…ok,” averted her gaze and followed it up with an audible sigh.

“What was that anyway?”

“It’s something really inappropriate and I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

*shrug* “Okay.”

Thankfully, she didn’t ask more questions, but we all know children never forget their questions.

So, now I wait for when she inquires again about the object that shall not be named.

Best future conversation ever.

And I already can’t even.

Y’all, we live a simple life over here.

Small things give us quite the kick.

For instance, a new toilet creates quite the stir.

But, for you to truly understand my excitement, you have to understand our toilet history.

Yes, we have a toilet history.

I can’t even tell you how many times the toilet in our main bathroom has overflowed.

Many towels have been sacrificed to potty water.

And, this always happened at the most inconvenient times.

Going to homeschool group?

Overflow.

Going to Community Group?

Overflow.

Going to do anything important and on a time crunch?

Overflow.

Without fail.

After multiple times of this issue happening (I am referencing 2 years or so ago), Brent finally snaked it.

What did he find?

Toothbrushes.

You know, the ones you use to clean your teeth when you wake up and go to bed, or at least one should.

Well, apparently a really great place to keep them is in the S trap of the toilet.

2 of them to be exact.

2 toothbrushes!

Y’all, at the time we only had three kiddos brushing their teeth.

I hate to admit it, and some of you may cringe, but it looks like all three of them were sharing a toothbrush.

*gagging sounds*

Because the girls were all using a community toothbrush, we immediately replaced all toothbrushes – shared and toilet ones – with three brand new ones.

Now, two years later, additional overflows and numerous sacrificed towels, Brent purchased a new toilet.

*angelic singing*

Best Christmas ever!

And, to answer a question you may have, no toothbrushes, or other paraphernalia were found in the toilet itself.

But, now, the moment of truth.

Will it flush?

Now, test #2.

The toilet seat.

I don’t know about y’all’s kids, but mine like to drop the toilet seat like it’s on fire.

Cue ridiculously loud thud at 3am.

So, Brent gave it the ultimate test.

Our brand new, what we will deem a “Christmas toilet”, passed the test.

It flushes properly and doesn’t sound like the toilet will break when the lid is dropped by one of our kiddos.

And now, all that is left is to class it up.

Yep, our toilet is classed up with a Reindeer cover.

Brent said it’s important to water the reindeer.

Sprite said it’s also important to feed the reindeer.

And, I’m gonna assume y’all don’t need me to spell it out for you.

Anyway, if you need a classy, newly installed, completely working toilet to use, you know where to go.

Oh, let us not forget our previous toilet.

Brent made sure to not only class up the inside of our home, but also the front yard.

And, this was what popped into my head:

We are classy folk over here.

Classy.

I was standing in the kitchen, breakfast cooking in the skillet, earbud tucked in my ear, coffee brewing on the counter when Banshee walks in with her sleepy eyes and little voice and squeaks, “Jesus died in my head.”

Stop.

Remove earbud.

Look intently at her.

“Jesus died in your head. Do you mean you had a dream?”

“Yeah.” *crying*

I scoop her up and comfort her with a big hug while she squeezes me tightly with her little arms.

I say, “well, Jesus did die. He died on the cross, but He’s alive now.”

She calms a little.

“Remember Jesus died on the cross for our sins, was buried, then rose again on the third day. Do you know what that means?”

*shakes her head no*

“It means He beat satan. Jesus wins. He’s alive. And, because He died for our sins, it means we can live forever with Him. Isn’t Jesus awesome?”

*softly shakes her head*

I’ve written about unexpected moments before.

Gospel conversation doesn’t have to be a serious, Bible open, pamphlet about the Roman’s road on the kitchen table kind of conversation.

It’s meeting your kiddos with their questions, curiosities, and unknowns about God.

You just talk.

“Love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength. These commandments that I give you today are to be upon your hearts. Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. ”

Deuteronomy 6: 5-7
Emphasis, mine.

Merriam-Webster defines self-confidence as, “great faith in oneself or one’s abilities.”

In my opinion, this “great faith in oneself” can present in numerous ways.

Sometimes it’s the way you speak with someone.

Or in how you carry yourself.

It can also manifest in your own personal style.

But, if I could give you confidence in a picture, it would be the one below.

Let me start just a few minutes before I took this photo.

We pulled into the parking lot of the sports center, where Sprite has volleyball practice.

I look in the rear view mirror and notice Banshee is readying herself with a loufah.

Yes, a loufah.

*why the bleep does she have a loufah?*

We’re running a little behind, so I shrug it off and gather Torpedo.

As I check on Banshee’s status, I find her hopping out of the van with her unraveled loufah pulled overtop her face and hair, with the remainder of it trailing behind her as we walk into the sports center.

She waltzed in with her makeshift fascinator, Rapunzel hair, and mounds of self-confidence.

Like it was oozing out of her with every step.

She did receive a couple of curious looks from parents, grandparents, and athletes as she waltzed through the sports center.

But, in true Banshee fashion, she was unaware, unfazed, and kept on walking.

And, her Rapunzel hair was trailing so far behind her that I kept tripping on it as we entered the gym.

So, she gathered the loufah train in her arms and sat down on the bleachers.

Unfazed.

Carefree.

Confident.

I couldn’t help but chuckle.

That confidence, no matter how ridiculous, is exactly the confidence I want her to have, always.

I want her to sit in a room with hundreds of people not giving a rip about their opinions or judgments, and be confident and content in herself.

A Facebook friend of mine, Bekah, shared image yesterday that caught my eye.

It caught my eye because I could literally walk into my older kids’ room, throw our Christmas tree star on top, and basically achieve this look.

So, Challenge Accepted.

It’s pretty good, if I say so myself.

But, my friend went the extra mile.

This challenge got me thinking.

I think I could put a star on our clean laundry on a regular basis.

See, in our house we have a loveseat that is deemed “laundry couch.”

It’s literally a small couch with the main purpose of holding our clean laundry.

You need a pair of pants?

Start digging.

Can’t find underwear in your drawer?

Dive in.

See, there is laundry on it literally 24/7.

When Banshee is serenading you with her amplified microphone, it’s there to never let you down.

When you’re feeling cute in a pretty dress, it’s there photobombing your moment of beauty.

When your newly mobile baby is cruising around and their sister takes a photo, it’s there lurking in the background.

And, sometimes – SOMETIMES – the items are folded and ready to be put away.

It’s there looking slightly pretty and a little organized.

But, as ridiculous as laundry couch is, we don’t realize how much we miss it until Christmas comes and laundry couch is moved from the living room, and we’re left without a place to throw our clean clothes. (Because putting them in drawers and closets is just crazy talk).

But, we don’t fear.

Our regular couch, complete with an assortment spilled food and drink, along with dog and cat hair, is there to save the day.

Couches for the win.

Y’all.

I don’t know what happened while my kids we’re percolating in the womb, but sheesh, these kiddos came out with all the creativity.

And by creativity, I mean no medium is off limits.

Crayons.

Markers.

Sharpies.

Toothpaste.

Vicks Vapor Rub.

Ink pads.

And, no surface is off limits.

Walls.

Doors.

Skin.

Toilets – yes, toilets.

I could provide about 10+ more for each list, but I will keep them short.

Have you seen that meme where someone puts a frame around an art masterpiece their child drew on their wall?

If we implemented this in our house, our walls would be lined up with frames.

Or rather, we should just literally frame every single wall of our house.

Anyway, one medium I listed above was Vicks Vapor Rub.

Here it is.

I remember walking down the hallway of our second apartment, after just having Tempest, and smelling the distinct scent of menthol.

I turned the corner into the master bedroom, looked left to see that amazing artwork on the wall across from our closet.

It was definitely a multi-sensory experience.

Another listed medium was toothpaste.

Here ya go:

Oh yeah, let’s not forget stamp pads.

A green one to be exact.

Who needs stamps when you can just remove the cover from an ink pad and smush it onto the toilet seat and the floor?

And why not also use a q-tip to assist with the artistry?

We also have a butt drawn on the back of the hallway bathroom door with the sharpie medium.

Yeah, a butt.

Though, I don’t think that was the intent behind it, but I will give you the opportunity to make your own judgement call.

Anyway, that is our life on walls here at our house.

For those of you that have and will come over, just prepare yourself.

Our home is our children’s Louvre.

I spent the last couple of weeks trying to decide if I should share the reason for some guilt I experienced a short time ago.

And honesty is the best policy, right?

So, here I go.

A couple of weeks ago I hit this weird space with my kids.

I just didn’t like them.

I love them, totally and completely.

Even when they’re climbing the walls, starting fights, and disobeying, I love them fiercely.

But, a couple of weeks ago I found myself just not enjoying their presence.

I was over the fighting.

I was over the disobedience.

I was over the disrespect.

I was just over it.

OVER IT.

It’s not because I needed a break, or needed a glass of wine.

I was just feeling the reality of love and like with these little people that I raise day in and day out.

And, even though I’m aware it’s normal to feel those things, and that it doesn’t diminish my love for them, I felt immense guilt.

Am I a bad mom because I experience dislike towards them?

If I share this feeling with my friends, will they think less of me?

I am obviously doing something wrong if I feel this way, right?

I literally sat enveloped in guilt as I waded through it.

Finally, I decided to put myself out there with some trusted friends, who I know would push back if my disposition was sinful.

I literally hit send with a message saying, “anybody else have those days where you just don’t like your kids, or is it just me?”

I received a simple, yet powerful reply, “it’s not just you.”

Simple, encouraging, and an ‘I see you’ demeanor.

It didn’t make my guilt go away.

And it wasn’t suddenly rainbows and butterflies.

But, I just felt like someone else knew.

Have you ever asked yourself, can things just not be complicated for once?

It’s a question we ask ourselves pretty regularly, then resolve that this is just life.

So, in true ‘our family’ fashion, we had that a few nights ago.

We arrived home from picking up our brand new Dalmatian puppy.

Yep, brand new puppy – but, we will come back to that another time.

Within a couple of minutes stepping into our house, it all breaks loose.

Our baby, Torpedo, begins puking all over the place.

Brent is holding her and she just starts erupting, and does so for what feels like an eternity.

Down his shirt, on his pants, landing on his shoes, and completely covering the floor.

Not to mention, I literally just mopped.

But, such is life, I suppose.

Then Brent exclaims, “there is throw-up in my pocket!”

Y’all, nasty.

The front pocket of his dress shirt is bulging with cash, three lipsticks (from my mother-in-law), and vomit.

All while the girls are fighting over who can hold the puppy, and trying to introduce our puppy to our other dog.

Oh, did I mention the puppy and our current dog came and “helped” us clean up the throw-up mess?

Remember that verse, “as a dog returns to its vomit, so fools repeat their folly.” Proverbs 26:11

That’s right – it became super scriptural in our house that evening.

Anyway, welcome to us.

It’s always a party.

Our four year old, Banshee, struggles with nightmares and feeling spooked as she drifts off to sleep.

Many times she will come out of her room, after I just tucked her in, and claim she had a nighmare.

But really, it was her mind messing with her during that twilight phase before she completely goes to sleep.

The shadows look like monsters.

The bunched up sheets feel like something is poking her.

The outside noises feel close and uncomfortable.

The last few nights have been this way.

But, last night, as I’m holding Banshee, ready to tuck her in, she says, “God fights in my dreams.”

“What do you mean?”

“Because God is in my heart, God fights the monsters in my dreams because He loves me.”

“That’s right! God loves you so much that He even protects you while you dream.”

“Yeah,” she then makes a heart with her hands and continues, “and, I love God.”

“I love that. And, God loves you so big. He loves you so much that He sent His Son for you so you can be with God forever.”

Y’all, Gospel conversation doesn’t have to be over a table, with a Bible open and ready to answer all the difficult questions.

It doesn’t have to be all the right words from the Romans Road.

Sometimes it’s reminding your four year old that not only do you love them, but they are loved even bigger and deeper by God.

So much so, that He fights the monsters in their nightmares.

Now, that’s a big God.

A God that loves this little girl so much, He reminds her of His presence even while she dreams.

Bedtime.

Y’all, we could have the best day ever then bedtime comes.

Bam!

Day ruined.

This is because, during bedtime our two oldest girls constantly bicker, move loudly about their room, come out to ask a crap ton of questions, turn lights on and off…it’s constant.

And a few weeks ago was no exception.

Brent and I are finally sitting in the same room, in close proximity trying to catch one another up from our day.

And guess what?

Here comes Tempest with an unnecessary question.

She asks, we answer, and direct her back to bed with instructions not to leave her room again.

Not a few seconds pass, here comes Sprite also with her unnecessary question.

*wide-eyed stifling back frustration and a nasty tone*

We answer and send her back with the same instructions.

Ya’ll…for what felt like an eternity, they continuously bombarded us with ridiculous questions, dancing (yes dancing), jokes, and other items that could have definitely waited until the following day.

We were done.

“Obey, get back to your room, or get a consequence.” we bellowed simultaneously.

We hear the quick pitter patter of feet receding down the hallway.

The girls were finally in their room.

A minute or two go by, our spidey-sense working overtime, when Brent says suddenly, “I told you if you come out here one more time you will get a consequence.”

Brent and I both look at who is now going to sit in a corner for 15 minutes.

Brent says with disdain, “and…that’s a dress.”

The dress was a costume we had hanging on our hooks by the front door.

So, I did what any awesome wife would do.

I snapped a photo.

That pink thing in the background completely disobeyed the bedtime orders.

If the costume wasn’t already hanging by it’s shoulders, it would have been in the corner for time-out.

Y’all, I laughed so much.

It’s also possible I’m laughing while I rehash and remember this moment.