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My Apple Mountain Life
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Thanks everybody for reading and encouraging me to take this more seriously.
Sunday, December 18, 2016
Sunday, September 25, 2016
The Royal Oak: an Account of Strength
Though He slay me, yet will I hope in Him; I will surely defend my ways to His face.
Job 13:15 NIV
Job 13:15 NIV
It was 1940 when my grandmother decided to follow Jesus at a tent revival. She was 11 years old and had no real idea what would change in her life, and at first nothing did. Sundays she went, as usual, with her family to church; Monday through Saturday she was always kind. Her salvation rested in her for seven years, until she suddenly found herself challenged by passionate gathering of believers. These people insisted on pushing God’s message beyond the church walls and back out into the war weary navy town around them. In that fertile ground a seed was planted; her faith and purpose began to grow anew.
In 70 years the seed grew from an acorn into a royal oak- a faith steadfast enough to hold a King the world wants dead. She’s dug her roots deep into the ground, absorbing the love and wisdom needed to extended her branches over those in her care. Her labor let her reap more blessing than she thought would come, and now looking out at the four oaks that grow beside her brings her such joy.
The two closest, tall and strong, are her sons. They are as different now as they were when they were young, though they have both inherited her desire to shepherd the weary and bring home the lost. Each has weathered their own trials and yet still they’ve spread their branches to places she couldn't have dreamed. Though they tend to her now, as she once tended to them, she will never stop praying over and ministering to them. A mother's work, in that regard, is never done.
Behind them stands the tree that changed the landscape of an island. A church, born not of a seed, but grafted so painfully from one of her own limbs. Its branches have now grown wide and strong, offering sanctuary to the lost and weary alike- but when she knew it best it was only a mere sapling. Does God, too, think it ironic that the endeavor which robbed her of so much, now brings back her fondest memories? ...The audacity following the call of ministry across the country with next to nothing...watching people’s eyes change as they began to understand the gospel...the way it made the book of Acts seem like it was happening in real time.
The last tree is the smallest, a bible study only 16 years old, scrappy and unpredictable in its ways. She’s amazed she has been able to tend it for that long. It has been a challenge to find a way to bind so many ages and backgrounds together, but she has realized the need for wisdom is universal. While the other oaks grow so independently now, this one still requires constant nurturing. She looks at it gratefully, for the way it has filled her retirement with a new mission.
Time has not been kind to her, as it so seldom is. The scars that maim the trunk of her oak bring me to tears. The deep gash, where a marriage failed. The nubbed branches where the shame of her mistakes was pruned away. The damage termites left as they slowly invaded with crippling pain. Worst of all the lightning burn, that stole away her husband and her second chance at love- a grief so deep it deafened her to all noise except the psalms.
In a funk where my own life feels more like a rock, eroded by water day after day, I desire her Paul-like determination to keep laboring as she presses on toward the prize. The middle of life brings the great temptation of weariness and in the midst so many frivolous battles laying down hope can almost seem like a reasonable choice. How does one continue to grow and thrive against the force of dreams lost and expectations unmet? As I listen to her stories, I scour the evidence of her life for some sort of spiritual secret, something that mocks this ravaging power of time...
But what I realize as I listen is that I already know the answers I seek. Live in community (exodus 17:12, matthew 26:38)
Know God’s word (2 Timothy 3:16-17)
Pray (1 Thessalonians 5:17)
Cast off the things that hold you back (Philippians 3:14)
What kind of a remedy is that, though, when all the things that make you stronger also require a spiritual strength of their own?
What ministers to me through the slow recounting of her stories, though, is truth. Truth of the life she’s lived and the truth of what continues to lead her forward.
That if we labor at the right time we will reap a harvest of blessing (Galatians 6:9)
That God is good, and what he does is good (Psalm 119:68a)
That the one who promised us hope is always faithful (Hebrews 10:23)
And that it's all worth it because of His love. A deep, unwavering, holy love. (1 John 4:16)
As I close my eyes and let these scriptures mingle in my mind I dwell on this collection of oaks. I feel my own hope growing from the possibility of strength, that the knowledge of His truth will keep pushing my roots ever deeper into His love, words and presence. Stronger yet will I be. Strong enough to weather the abuse that time would hurtle my way. Strong enough to seek and trust Him continually. Strong enough, still, to share His love wherever my reach extends.
Special thanks to Grandma Norma Jean McDermet...who continues to inspire after 87 years.
Daughter of the original royal oak, in Boscobel, England
Sunday, June 19, 2016
The Love of a Father
For Father's day, among other presents, the boys made a list of things they love about Dad. Judging by the list, Daddy brings some distinct things to their lives that I do not. Dunkin Donuts, side splitting humor about poop, ridiculously awesome bedtime stories, and special trips in his truck. Basically, Dad is tons of fun.
I have one child, though, who was a little more excited about Father's Day than the others, and I think thats because he’s had more of an opportunity to experience a different side of my husband
Like Wreck it Ralph, this child’s passion boils very closely to the surface. Growing with him has expanded my patience and challenged my parental creativity. But when the temper erupts, it is not reason or time out that calm him. What he needs is his dad. He needs his dad’s equally passionate love to counter his surging anger.
It borders on the miraculous to me, that the minute Dad is on the phone, a completely new child appears. There is no more angst, his voice becomes gentle, the red drains from his face. Almost instantly he feels remorse and begins the process of repentance. Nothing special is said, other than, “I love you very much,” and “I know you can do this.”
The best I can understand is its just the knowing. It’s remembering that even though Dad is not here, his love is still abounds.
I vaguely recall this from my own growing up. I can't believe that I not only get to see my husband lavish this love, but I also got to experience it. Even when I was acting bratty. I would fight and scream and slam doors with Mom, but Dad’s voice would change the conflict entirely.
The bible says God is love. And what I’ve had the privilege of witnessing through my husband and my Dad is a glimpse of that love, and the power it holds. It is no ordinary love. Definitely not in any casual or romantic or even brotherly definiton. It’s the overpowering sacrificial love. It means that even if they haven't sacrificed their life for you they would. That they all ready sacrificed many other things, money, time, and dreams. It redefines the heart of the person who recieves it.
I dont envy the responsibility of fatherhood. Most people’s impression of God comes from their Fathers, and separating that impression from reality is many people's greatest spiritual battle. Is God full of Grace? Or judgement? Aloof? Or deeply involved? It’s not fair to put this pressure on dads, but they share the title of Father, so there it is.
It seems to me like world has a desperate shortage of this type of love. The statistics of fatherless homes are overwhelming, and the consequences of growing up with this influence put a child at risk for all sorts of devastating behaviors. We all want to point fingers and blame people or laws for our worst problems, but the solutions we yell at each other are about as effective as putting a bandaid on a broken bone. People need to know that as angry and devastated as they are there is an equally passionate Father with undying love waiting to restore them. It changes everything about who we are and what we are fighting for. It changes how we treat others, and what we are willing to do for someone else who is hurting. The best thing about this type of love is that its contagious. The more you experience it the more capable you are of sharing it.
I’m sad that Father's day has become a bit of a tainted holiday, reminding more people of their hurt than their joy. But I think sacrificial love is something we can all celebrate today. I hope you have had the chance to experience it in some way, and I pray that, especially if you were hurt by your earthly father, you will come to know God’s love in this way. I pray that it will change your life and restore your soul on this very happy Father's Day.
Saturday, May 7, 2016
A New Vision for Mother's Day
In honor of my Mom, Anne Malone, who is the ultimate mom, and has inspired and encouraged me in ways she doesn't even realize.
It wasn't until I became a mom that I realized I had completely misunderstood mother's day. I had always seen it throught the eyes of Hallmark and floral shops, as a day to make mom feel special, spoiled and adored. The frustrating part was that no amount of Hallmark or roses would suffice. I wasn't always nice to my mom growing up, but I was wise enough to realize my life existed because of her willingess to sacrifice for me. No trinket or homemade card would ever be able to compare to that.
I assumed that despite my inadequate gifts, it was an awesome day to be a mom- and that someday I would revel in the excitement of adding a new gift getting holiday to my calendar.
 |
| My awesome mom being awesome |
The first year I was celebrated I loved it, because my son was just a baby, and so far parenting had been all sacrifice and very little reward. The second year I felt totally akward, since I had absolutley no clue how to navigate the tantrums. I thought maybe the gifts should be returned since I was clearly failing the terrible two's. For the last few years though, I have really just wanted to go for a walk and cook dinner...which is sort of what we do every other day of the year.
This year, my mom wanted to visit and of course I was excited. I was also immediately stressed because I had a busy week, and a small budget, and I knew whatever gift I came up with wouldn't compare to her greatness in my mind. But then I realized something about her that I already knew was true for myself...
I realized that once you become a mom, Mother's Day is a day to celebrate the fact that you have children. It's to rejoice that you have been entrusted with the responsibility of raising the next generation. It's for remembering, that despite your complete lack of ablility and qualifications, God thought you fit to care for these specific beautiful people in your house.
There is often drudgery in the sacrifice- the sleepless nights, the poop, the laundry, the stress, the baby barf in your hair, etc.- and its nice that Hallmark has made a booming industry out of thanking moms for that.
The part that the cards eloquently leave out is the defeat. I mess up parenting everyday. I set a poor example by losing my temper, forgetting to do the laundry, and/or not listnening when I should. Nothing will reveal your personality flaws or push your patience more than parenting, and absolutely nothing is worse than watching your kids absorb one of your bad habits. There is no “Dear mom! Im so glad you taught me the s-word while locking your keys in the car!” in the card aisle.
What I really want to celebrate is that despite my worst shortcomings, my kids love me anyways. I want a holiday to celebrate their ability to grant forgiveness as easily as they eat and sleep. The true gift given is that I'm not entitled to their trust, but still they will still barrel down the scariest of slides if I hold them in my lap. The real honor is to look at each one of them, wonder at how unique they are, and realize how much they’ve grown- inside and out.
 |
| Lucky me and my boys |
Happy Mother's Day Everybody!
Wednesday, February 24, 2016
Learning to Rest
My family went on an ill fated hike recently. Our new house is near the Appalachian Trail, and the section that is the closest goes straight uphill. We had hiked this part several times, but we could never reach the top and the mystery surrounding the summit was powerful. One warm December Saturday we set off early on a mission to discover what was up there. In my foolishness to not spoil the mystery I hadn't looked at the map... it turns out you should NEVER do that if you're hiking with kids. Another hiker had told me there was a hikers hut (a lean to for camping), but when we asked other people on the trail about it, they only knew that it was close- which turned out to be an extremely relative distance.
We pressed on steadily up the slope, increasingly drawn to the promise of the hut with each step. After a while the kids were even excited about it.
"You can sleep in it!"
"It has a well!"
"And an outhouse!" We told them.
The hike up the mountain was much longer than it looked, but when we finally made it to the top and the trail opened up into a breathtaking, isolated meadow. This section of the trail is very close to civilization, it seemed impossible that such a beautiful place wouldnt be crammed with people. It felt like we had found the Secret Garden. The wind seemed to be whispering to us, "Stop! Enjoy yourself and rest!"
We did not rest though, in fact we didnt even stop walking.
Compelled by the hut, we hiked on. Have you seen a hut? Its kind of cool, like a secret hideout. Its also kind of a sad reminder of how civilized the trail is. And on this particular day, someone told us there was a troop of boyscouts camping there. So not exciting.
Over an hour later, we still had not reached the hut. We realized, though, that we didnt have enough daylight left to hike back to the car. There was no moon that night. We had run out of water. The kids had already reached the point of exhaustion, and it was at least a 2-3 hour hike to get home.
When we got back to the meadow we finally did stop to rest (we had to or the kids would have collapsed) but the rest was tainted and stressful. Every minute spent there was a minute we would dangerously be hiking down the rocky mountain in the dark. Where the air before was filled with invitation, now it was filled with regret.
In Luke 10:42 Jesus tells overacheiving Martha that, "...few things are needed—or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.” (italics mine)
My problem, like Martha's problem, is surrender. He is ever so gently telling me to stop, and rest with him- but I am constantly tempted to overburden myself with my ambition. Can you relate? Maybe you desperately want change, but its not the right time. It could be you're wasting all your energy to be someone you're not. Sometimes its as ordinary as trying to host the perfect dinner party when your guest would rather just have your company.
I wish I fully understood why our desire to find this hut had become so strong, maybe then I would be better at fighting this temptation in other parts of my life. It's hard for me to surrender my plans, even when it becomes clear they're crappy and stressful. My mom wisely and gently suggests, "We dont have to do the crazy thing," because she knows the consequences. I will become stressed out, I will start to worry and doubt myself. I will snap at my kids and pass that stress on to them. I will tire myself out and ignore my responsibilities...Simply said, I will have a complete lack of peace.
Why is accepting Gods invitation to rest so hard? Many people I know are compulsively burdened by their busy lives. Almost everyone I know complains about it, but when I've pressed people to find out why they cant stop, they seem trapped in that lifestyle. There could be many reasons, ranging from pride to a lack of intentional scheduling. But for me, its usually based in fear- fear that if I accept God's will things wont seem perfect, or my kids will suffer, or that something will be painful...its a fear that if I am not in control, everything I love on earth will fall apart.
Rest is risky. It means trusting God to take care of the things and people you hold most dear. My heart knows I can trust Him, but my brain still wants to sort the pros and cons according to worldly wisdom.
The more time we spend with God, surrendering our will to His, the less enticing our busy plans seem. I'm encouraged by Hebrews 4:16, "Let us therefore come boldly to the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need." The verse before this reminds the reader that Jesus came to earth and He understands our weakness and temptation.
I love that picture of a throne of grace that I can approach without shame, to receive everything I need to cover my lack of trust.
Paul says, "Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus." Philippians 4:6-7
Constant prayer brings peace, it guards me from the temptation to fear his rest.
I know constant prayer is hard. With 4 kids my days are naturally busy, even if I make no plans. Finding time to pray may be one of the hardest things about being a mom.
I learned several things on the hike that day, but the lesson that stays with me the most- more than learning to rest- was to savor God's great work.
Just like in hiking, when the destination is my only focus, I suffer. The harder the trail gets, the more I watch my feet, and then I miss out on all the ordinary miracles. I can trudge through a whole week, without ever really noticing His glory or power. I want to be like David, who declared, "I will look up!" (Psalm 5:3b)
We took pictures that day, but I didnt realize until I got home that they were all of our kids being goofy. I love their silly sense of humor, It's one of my favorite parts of parenting. It was interesting to me that I have a few pictures of my kids IN the meadow, but none of the meadow itself.
Even though we all agreed it was a poorly planned outing, I (and I hope eventually my kids and husband) will always hold it as a fond memory. Even the horrible parts held joy; like the way the boys encouraged each other, how they laughed for 20mn at their dad's potty humor, and how they all learned they could do so much more than they thought. These are the things I brought to God in thanksgiving. They remind me that when His rest brings pain, it often brings joy and promise too.
The next week we hiked to the hut from a closer trailhead and everything was much more peaceful. I actually looked at the map, brought enough food and water, and left with enough time to get home before dark. The hut was quite luxurious for a lean to, complete with a porch and adirondack chairs, and I actually cant wait to go camping there.
The boys were dissapointed that the boy scouts had left, but they did love the outhouse and the well. They were also ready to forgive me for not reaching it the week before. Best of all, they loved eachother, and they found so many awesome things to be joyful about in the forest. It was certainly not as amazing as finding the meadow, but I tried to hold onto my lessons from the week before. I tried to savor the memories that were made along the way. I tried to remember that hikes are supposed to be peaceful, and to not push the kids too far.
I am trying. I pray that as I grow I could trust God with the things I hold dear, and enjoy the rest that trust brings. I pray that I will be unshakeable, guarded from temptation by my constant prayers.
We pressed on steadily up the slope, increasingly drawn to the promise of the hut with each step. After a while the kids were even excited about it.
"You can sleep in it!"
"It has a well!"
"And an outhouse!" We told them.
The hike up the mountain was much longer than it looked, but when we finally made it to the top and the trail opened up into a breathtaking, isolated meadow. This section of the trail is very close to civilization, it seemed impossible that such a beautiful place wouldnt be crammed with people. It felt like we had found the Secret Garden. The wind seemed to be whispering to us, "Stop! Enjoy yourself and rest!"
We did not rest though, in fact we didnt even stop walking.
Compelled by the hut, we hiked on. Have you seen a hut? Its kind of cool, like a secret hideout. Its also kind of a sad reminder of how civilized the trail is. And on this particular day, someone told us there was a troop of boyscouts camping there. So not exciting.
Over an hour later, we still had not reached the hut. We realized, though, that we didnt have enough daylight left to hike back to the car. There was no moon that night. We had run out of water. The kids had already reached the point of exhaustion, and it was at least a 2-3 hour hike to get home.
When we got back to the meadow we finally did stop to rest (we had to or the kids would have collapsed) but the rest was tainted and stressful. Every minute spent there was a minute we would dangerously be hiking down the rocky mountain in the dark. Where the air before was filled with invitation, now it was filled with regret.
In Luke 10:42 Jesus tells overacheiving Martha that, "...few things are needed—or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.” (italics mine)
My problem, like Martha's problem, is surrender. He is ever so gently telling me to stop, and rest with him- but I am constantly tempted to overburden myself with my ambition. Can you relate? Maybe you desperately want change, but its not the right time. It could be you're wasting all your energy to be someone you're not. Sometimes its as ordinary as trying to host the perfect dinner party when your guest would rather just have your company.
I wish I fully understood why our desire to find this hut had become so strong, maybe then I would be better at fighting this temptation in other parts of my life. It's hard for me to surrender my plans, even when it becomes clear they're crappy and stressful. My mom wisely and gently suggests, "We dont have to do the crazy thing," because she knows the consequences. I will become stressed out, I will start to worry and doubt myself. I will snap at my kids and pass that stress on to them. I will tire myself out and ignore my responsibilities...Simply said, I will have a complete lack of peace.
Why is accepting Gods invitation to rest so hard? Many people I know are compulsively burdened by their busy lives. Almost everyone I know complains about it, but when I've pressed people to find out why they cant stop, they seem trapped in that lifestyle. There could be many reasons, ranging from pride to a lack of intentional scheduling. But for me, its usually based in fear- fear that if I accept God's will things wont seem perfect, or my kids will suffer, or that something will be painful...its a fear that if I am not in control, everything I love on earth will fall apart.
Rest is risky. It means trusting God to take care of the things and people you hold most dear. My heart knows I can trust Him, but my brain still wants to sort the pros and cons according to worldly wisdom.
The more time we spend with God, surrendering our will to His, the less enticing our busy plans seem. I'm encouraged by Hebrews 4:16, "Let us therefore come boldly to the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need." The verse before this reminds the reader that Jesus came to earth and He understands our weakness and temptation.
I love that picture of a throne of grace that I can approach without shame, to receive everything I need to cover my lack of trust.
Paul says, "Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus." Philippians 4:6-7
Constant prayer brings peace, it guards me from the temptation to fear his rest.
I know constant prayer is hard. With 4 kids my days are naturally busy, even if I make no plans. Finding time to pray may be one of the hardest things about being a mom.
I learned several things on the hike that day, but the lesson that stays with me the most- more than learning to rest- was to savor God's great work.
Just like in hiking, when the destination is my only focus, I suffer. The harder the trail gets, the more I watch my feet, and then I miss out on all the ordinary miracles. I can trudge through a whole week, without ever really noticing His glory or power. I want to be like David, who declared, "I will look up!" (Psalm 5:3b)
We took pictures that day, but I didnt realize until I got home that they were all of our kids being goofy. I love their silly sense of humor, It's one of my favorite parts of parenting. It was interesting to me that I have a few pictures of my kids IN the meadow, but none of the meadow itself.
 |
| Paul and Tim resting on the way home (Tim is actually inside the trunk) |
 |
| Thomas as a moose |
Even though we all agreed it was a poorly planned outing, I (and I hope eventually my kids and husband) will always hold it as a fond memory. Even the horrible parts held joy; like the way the boys encouraged each other, how they laughed for 20mn at their dad's potty humor, and how they all learned they could do so much more than they thought. These are the things I brought to God in thanksgiving. They remind me that when His rest brings pain, it often brings joy and promise too.
The next week we hiked to the hut from a closer trailhead and everything was much more peaceful. I actually looked at the map, brought enough food and water, and left with enough time to get home before dark. The hut was quite luxurious for a lean to, complete with a porch and adirondack chairs, and I actually cant wait to go camping there.
The boys were dissapointed that the boy scouts had left, but they did love the outhouse and the well. They were also ready to forgive me for not reaching it the week before. Best of all, they loved eachother, and they found so many awesome things to be joyful about in the forest. It was certainly not as amazing as finding the meadow, but I tried to hold onto my lessons from the week before. I tried to savor the memories that were made along the way. I tried to remember that hikes are supposed to be peaceful, and to not push the kids too far.
I am trying. I pray that as I grow I could trust God with the things I hold dear, and enjoy the rest that trust brings. I pray that I will be unshakeable, guarded from temptation by my constant prayers.
Sunday, December 20, 2015
Baby's first christmas gift
To my friends and friends of friends and anyone else who has had a baby within the last two years….I'm about to share some unsolicited parenting advice. I know it's annoying, I try not to do this, but this is important.
Did you know christmas is coming!? For my friends with newborns, I know you haven't slept or left your house, so that may come as a shock, but relax! You were why they invented amazon prime. Also, to take some of the stress off, I have the perfect gift idea for your new baby. AND there's no shipping or gift wrapping, yay!
What did you already have on your shopping list? How long will it be until those gifts have accumulated enough dust that you decide to sell them on craigslist?
-Toys? 0-6 months before they break
-An exersaucer? 3 mos. tops, maybe up to 9 if you use it for your next 2 kids, after which it will be so nasty you will have to burn it.
-The perfect stroller? (This has always been my weakness) we’ve had ours for 8 years now- and it is finally about to fall apart.
I'm not saying these gifts have zero value, but what if i told you there was a gift that would really last? Not only for your child's entire life, but also your grandchildrens, and great grandchildrens, etc.?
Not an antique heirloom, or a college fund...better
Give up?
Your marriage.
When i became a mom, all of my friends were still busy being in their 20’s. I jumped into motherhood with few mentors, and relied mostly on the internet and ‘parenting experts’ for advice. I made so many mistakes! I also had this amazing, surprisingly wise husband, Adam, who i mostly ignored.
Our first few Christmases, I insisted on getting the baby a gift. We couldn't really afford gifts, so i would usually get some cheap toy or book that he would lose interest in after a few minutes. I loved getting presents growing up, and i literally could not WAIT to share that joy with my son. Adam grew up with a more grounded perspective, though, and didnt understand it. I disputed all of Adam's great arguments to skip the baby present. Like, that our son didn't even know it was Christmas... He didn't really care about the present...That he couldn't even OPEN the present...And that we buy him stuff all the time....
One day i was at a bible study, and somebody said something that horrified me. They told me in a list of priorities, a husband should come before children.
How dare they!
Adam is completely self sufficient. He knows the ways of the world, he’s an excellent chef, and he's great at his job. He does not NEED me the way my children do. And every parenting expert everywhere says that children have to feel loved and nurtured. What would happen to their self esteem if my kids didn't feel like the top priority in my life? At this early point in parenting i was overwhelmed by the responsibility of my new role, pressured to do everything right, and convinced that Adam would not miss me if I used all of my time taking care of the baby. I was so wrong. He was lonely AND pissy.
But in the back of my head was lurking the old truth that marriages take work, and how much work had i been putting into mine? In a rare moment of long term thinking I wondered...what would my marriage be like after a few years of Adam feeling unimportant to me? How about when my kids don't demand my attention (i promise this will happen someday!)? Would we have a marriage left if I put it on hold for 18 years while i figured out how to be a mom? Any of you (and statistics say that's at least half), whose parents are divorced know the pain. I was a grown up (technically) when mine split and i forgive them. I still feel the pain, though, of lost family and broken promises...
what about when i try to promise my kids that their dad and I are different? Almost everyone else in the family tree broke their vows, can you blame them for wondering if Adam and I are any different? Statistically the odds are against us...and if we fail, then we transfer those odds to their marriages too. How much harder is it to model a healthy marriage when you didn't grow up in one?
One thing Adam has always been better at is thinking ahead. I know it's hard to stare into the future with someone burning up your energy like a MAC truck, but we must! Did you even acknowledge your husband when he came home from work today? Did you take the time to tell him how much you love watching him learn to be a dad? Or praise him for all the great things he does for your new family?
Or did you embarrass him in front of his friends for putting the baby's pants on backwards? And make him feel incompetent for not following ‘the’ bedtime routine?
Somewhere between child 1 and 4 I learned how important it was to show respect and listen to my husband...turns out, he has great ideas! Which happens to be part of why i married him in the first place. So this year, I chose not to buy our baby a present. We decided take that money I was going to spend on his useless piece of baby crap-err, I mean-present, and go out for a night on the town. I love our dates because we can relive all the memories of when we first met, and remember we are still hopelessly attracted to one another.
I know you’re tired. I know it's hard to feel sexy when you were up all night, have spit up in your hair, and you lost your lipstick and eyeliner in the bottom of the diaper bag. I’m right there with you, except now i also have an eight year old watching me- looking to see what I'm willing to do to stay in love with his father. And you ARE sexy to the one and only person who really matters! So ladies, please! Dust off your high heeled boots. Dig through the drawer to find your push up bra. Hire a sitter or beg a grandma to stay with the baby, and take your hubby out for a night out on the town. Invest in your marriage, for your family’s sake, this Christmas.
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