Grace Under Pressure

I woke up this morning to a migraine headache, something I get a few times a year, usually when a cold front is coming through and smashing up against a warm front. I was thankful that I had a few hours before I had to go pick up the kids from school and drive them way out east for a basketball game.

I managed to consume a banana and a cup of tea so I wouldn’t have to take analgesics on an empty stomach. Then I snuggled up with my toddler on the couch and watched a Thomas the Tank Engine video.

She roused me at the end of the video and I realized it was time to go. I felt absolutely nauseous and was not sure how I could possibly drive. “Go get your hairbrush,” I told her.

She was on her way up the stairs, when she complained, “I think there’s something stuck in my nose.”

Thinking it was a “boogie”, I stuck my finger in her nostril to see if I could clear whatever was bothering her. I didn’t feel anything.

“There’s nothing in there,” I said.

“There’s something stuck in there!” she insisted.

So I placed her on the couch and looked up her nose. She was right. There was a miniature jingle bell stuck up her nose. I hadn’t seen this happen since my eldest was two and had stuck a bead up her nose; it had required a visit to the pediatrician to remove it.

I looked up at the clock nervously. If I couldn’t get it out, maybe the school nurse would remove it for me. I picked up a tweezer and a toothpick, random items left on top of the microwave.

The toothpick fit perfectly into the hole in the jingle bell, and it came smoothly out. She seemed to suffer no discomfort. “Phew!” Suddenly my nausea was gone. That fight-or-flight hormone adrenaline had kicked it out of my system. Thank God.

As we drove, I felt the pain in my right eye gradually dull, fading into my sinuses. We stopped at a light and the sun peaked out of the clouds at me. I found myself thanking the Lord for the headache, which had reminded me that I always need to ask for His Grace to get through a busy day of being a mom.

It was a long drive. When we arrived, the coach went into the gym and came out to tell us that, due to a drama rehearsal, the game was being delayed for a half hour. We were welcome to hang out in the snow-covered parking lot in the meantime. I realized we had forgotten to bring water. We took our extra time to go to McDonald’s for some nuggets and shakes. At least dinner was out of the way for the night.

The game started with the other team ahead. Finally, a close game, one worth watching, I thought. We had been undefeated, and none of the other teams had given us much of a challenge. I soon realized that the other team was composed of experienced eighth graders, towering over our mixed team of sixth, seventh, and eighth graders. By half-time it became apparent that we might be in for our first loss.

Our poor girls really suffered at the hands of the opposing team. There was scratching, slapping, kicking, elbowing…not a girl escaped without a mark to her face or body. Sure, they had fouls issued, but the damage was already done.

So we walked away from our first loss, bruised in body and ego, but knowing we had played by the rules and done our best. Kudos to the coaches as well, for giving all the sixth graders some playing time even when we were behind. I am sure every parent drove home giving their children lessons to be learned about sportsmanship even in the face of the lack of the same from the other team.

Some days just aren’t that great…but we can still glean some great thoughts from them. Like when you get a gift that is hard to appreciate at Christmas, but then you still remember it’s a gift. Every day in this walk is a gift, and with our children in them they are all golden.

Picture above is from a game played in Dec. 2009 - both teams displayed good sportsmanship in that game.

Commitment

Gathering The Grapes, 1875

The rain came back to Long Island today, like an old familiar friend who might be annoying but whom you feel comfortable around. I had been dreaming about softball, and woke up thinking about what had gone wrong with our travel team this year.

Commitment. It’s a word that people throw around and pretend they have, but how many really do? Last night I showed up for 6:00 12-and-under game at 5:15. The opposing team and their families, all in red, were all there. I sat there all alone in my greenery, notebook in hand to record our attendance. They started straggling in at 5:30, which is supposed to be the latest time that our girls get there.

Our managing coach was camping with his family that day and started getting phone calls in the late afternoon. “I decided to surprise my daughter with a ticket to the Jonas Brothers Concert tonight.” Repeated phone calls of this nature brought the roster down from 15 girls to 8.

At the same time, the mother who was supposed to bring my 10-year-old daughter to her practice (at a different location) had to cancel because she had to help another mother with her infant. There was some alternative plan of getting her there that involved leaving her an unknown person’s house. Something told me there was a reason she needed to stay with me that night, and I called her coach to explain; it was her first missed practice this season.

She came in her uniform – which matches that of the older team – and good thing she did, because they needed her to make 9 players. She held her own in the outfield, walked to first, and stole to second. I was proud.

Our girls were hitting last night, the fruits of the intense batting practice they had in the 90-degree weather this past Saturday. My 12-year-old hit a homerun. But the errors in the outfield were such that we just kept letting the other team score runs, and we ended early under the Mercy Rule. (After the fourth inning, if the other team is up by 10 points, the umpire can end the game.)

The parents who were there were all on the same page as me. You sign up for a team, you are responsible to the team to be there. All other plans should be made around the schedule you committed to. If you have too many commitments, maybe you should reprioritize.

The only reason we would miss a game (other than sickness) would be for religious sacraments within the family: marriages, burials, First Communions, Baptisms. God trumps sports. But He also is in all things including sports, and calls us to do all things in such a way that glorifies Him. In spiritual things Revelations 3:16 says, “So, because you are lukewarm, neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of my mouth.” Either do it all the way or don’t bother. There will be much pruning of the branches of this team’s vine come the fall.

John
Chapter 15
1
"I am the true vine, and my Father is the vine grower.
2
He takes away every branch in me that does not bear fruit, and everyone that does he prunes so that it bears more fruit.
3
You are already pruned because of the word that I spoke to you.
4
Remain in me, as I remain in you. Just as a branch cannot bear fruit on its own unless it remains on the vine, so neither can you unless you remain in me.
5
I am the vine, you are the branches. Whoever remains in me and I in him will bear much fruit, because without me you can do nothing.
6
Anyone who does not remain in me will be thrown out like a branch and wither; people will gather them and throw them into a fire and they will be burned.
7
If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask for whatever you want and it will be done for you.
8
By this is my Father glorified, that you bear much fruit and become my disciples.

Lightheartedness

When my mother called last night, I gave her little chance to tell me why she had called. Barely pausing to take a breath, I told her how my nine-year-old had had a fever all weekend and my six-year-old had thrown up in his bed and slept in it.

“And yet you tell me this so lightheartedly,” she mused.

I could not explain my carefree attitude except by the grace of God. “Laughter is the heart’s best medicine,” Proverbs tells us, and somehow the capacity for laughter had been sent me as a much-need gift overnight.

Certainly I was not seeing things so well early on Sunday. Halfway to church, we realized we had left the offering envelope at home. After dropping my husband and the older children at church, I went back to retrieve it. Coming in halfway through the mass, as soon as I found a seat the baby started acting up. She wanted every hymnal in the pew. She wanted to stack them up a certain way, then put them back, then hold them all at once. If she did not get her way, she would shriek. Even half a mass was too long for me.

Once she was tucked in for her nap, we started a project I had not looked forward to. We had left the Christmas tree and lights up until January 6, and my husband was anxious to take them down. I served lunch and retrieved the Christmas boxes from the garage to get them set up. Then I went food shopping.

When I got home, the lights were down and away, and the tree was at the curb. My husband had vacuumed and swept. All the ornaments were neatly laid on the dining room table. And yet I grumbled. Each of the decorations had its own box, which it had to be laid in precisely. Then each individual box had to be packed into a larger box in such a way as to maximize space and minimize breakage possibilities. The chore seemed so depressing to me and I moped through it for hours.

After the children were in bed, I noticed the sap that had dripped across the floor. I got the floor cleaner out and started polishing the dining room floor – something only done when it becomes obviously necessary. Then I swept and cleaned the kitchen floor. My husband ripped up old boxes and put the packed boxes back into the garage. He saved Mary from accidentally being thrown away (!).

Finally, exhausted, we lay on the couch and watched some television. Looking around me, the cleanliness and absence of clutter calmed my spirits. I peeked in on my son, who had conked out before changing into his pajamas.

My husband turned on an infomercial and my ears perked up as a medical author discussed natural remedies for some ailments some of my relatives suffer from. “Should we order it?” I asked jokingly. Surprisingly, my husband answered in all serious, “Go ahead!”

We had never ordered anything over the telephone before, and I was so pleased at having this gracious permission offered, that I picked up the telephone. The customer representative soon started in on a series of related offers. Was I interested in a weight loss book in the series? A smoking cessation book? Free trials for three magazines? A shopping savings club? No thank you, no thank you, went my “broken record”.

My husband was nearly in stitches listening to my end of the conversation. Finally, “we have made arrangements for you and your family to spend six days and seven nights in sunny Florida,” and I broke into peals of laughter. “No thank you, we just got back!” I answered, “Have a nice night!”

Monday morning, my son came to me in silent tears. I asked my husband to help me discover the cause. He looked into our son’s room and informed me he had thrown up. So at 6:00 AM I started running a bath for him, stripping the bed, and disinfecting.

“Mommy, my head hurts,” said my nine-year-old. She was running a fever of 102 degrees.

“I guess you’re the only one of us going to school today,” I told my eldest.

Once I heard the baby wake up, I started to steam clean the rug in my son’s room. When I was done, I went in to get her. She had fallen back asleep – and stayed that way until after noon! I went downstairs and joined the sick children, who lay on the couch watching television. I caught up on some sleep.

My son had a little table with Cheerios and grape Pedialyte. Of course, he knocked it over. The steam cleaner came down the stairs and now my living room floor is really clean.

Concerned about my daughter’s state-mandated English-Language-Arts exam, which was to take place starting Tuesday, I called the school secretary. She let me know that a child must be fever-free for 24 hours before returning to school, and that a makeup period would be provided for her. After all the preparation that had gone into this test, she was going to miss the first day. What else could I do but laugh?

It was unseasonably warm, so we all went outside for a few hours. It was very pleasant. Once the baby was up, she was happy to stretch her legs outdoors.

It definitely could have been worse, so for what it was I had to be thankful.

I turned in at midnight, saying I’d been up since 6:00. Then I corrected myself, remembering my morning nap. “Oh yeah,” I said, laughing aloud, “I’ve really only been up since 11:00!” I kept chuckling until I finally fell asleep.

“A merry heart doeth good like a medicine: but a broken spirit drieth the bones.”
Proverbs 17:22

Pictured above: Saint Francis of Assissi, whose lightheartedness was contagious with both children and animals.

Complaining at Christmas Time

Okay, we all know we are supposed to be full of good cheer this month, but I am sure all of we moms lose patience at least once with all we have to do. So I am going to take this opportunity to gripe publicly. But I promise I have a point and will end on a positive note.

We just read the Old Testament story about how God sent vipers to punish his people for griping in the wilderness. Moses had to put up a bronze serpent so that all who looked on it would not die of their bites. I am reminded of this as I look behind my computer chair at our Jesse tree with the symbol of the bronze snake.

I hate shopping. I mean, I really, really hate shopping. Especially at times like this when stores are a mob, and I am only there to meet a necessity.

My daughter needed a new winter coat, so I found myself on a long line at Kohl’s today with my single purchase and my toddler standing up in her stroller and whining. The lady behind me on the line had a sleeping pre-schooler in a stroller, whom she kept absent-mindedly pushing into my legs. It took every ounce of restraint I could summon to keep myself from spinning around and say, “Do you really think you are going to get to the cash register any faster by smashing your child into my legs?” A few times she left the child there to go a few yards away and look at another sale item. I took that opportunity to inch away and position myself so the next nudge would annoy a little less.

The upside to my ordeal was that I received a real bargain on the needed coat. The cashier was surprised that I had waited on the line for only one item. Upon ringing up the coat, I remarked that it was only computed as 25% off rather than the 60% advertised. A nearby manager, desperately trying to manage the long line, told the cashier to give it to me at 60% off. He calculated it on his cell phone while I quickly worked out the math problem on a scrap piece of paper. When I got home and looked at the circular, I saw that “athletic” coats were excluded from the sale and so, indeed, this had worked to my advantage.

My daughter happened to have a difficult time with her math homework tonight and I promised I had a surprise for her after she had completed it. This helped out with her attitude a bit, and she was very happy with her new coat.

Last time I was in a complaining mood, my husband commented, “It could be worse. We could have been borne in the Middle Ages during the Black Plague.” Having read about that ordeal in Kristen Lavransdatter, I quieted myself and tried to look for a silver lining somewhere.

And there always is. A good friend of ours is about to be shipped off for Navy Reserve Boot Camp, a few days before Christmas. What was his family doing tonight? Personally delivering food, clothing, and Christmas gifts to needy families on Eastern Long Island. (They run a website called Help for Long Island.) Now that is inspiring.

“Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is gracious, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.”
Phillipians 4:8