I have to be firm. I cannot budge… And then my 2 yr old daughter wanders out of bed wearing her patent leather shoes. For the third time, I remove them, hide them under the bed, and tuck her in. But this time I take a picture because it’s just too cute and I know I will want to remember this moment forever…



I have to be consistent. I cannot give in… They need to sleep in their own beds. But then the little shadow darkens my doorway at night and a little voice says, “Can I sweep with you, Mama. I hab bad dweam.” And even though I’ve been sleep deprived for five years, I pull the little shadow into bed with me to snuggle and squeeze her tight. I will remember this moment forever…



I am tired. Dinner is almost burnt… She’s 5 years old and she’s been afraid of everything since she was born. But even though I’m tired of the whining, and I already did it once before, when she appears in her bathing suit and goulashes and asks me one more time to make sure there are no bugs outside, I go. I go because I remember what it’s like to have irrational fears and I was never so smart to think to just put on my “goulashes”. There’s no way I could forget this moment…



 I clean. I teach. Over and over… I’ve reminded her several times to use her fork when she eats, and yet here she is facedown in a bowl of rice. When I reprimand her, she lifts her head from her food, covered in rice from her eyebrows to her ears, and says, “Sawy mama…” And I realize that a fork is not the best way for a 2yr old to eat rice and that she was actually using her little brain. I smile with pride, wishing I had a camera to capture this moment forever…



     I am a parent... I need them to listen… They’ve interrupted Daddy and I too many times. We need to talk. And then one of them starts crying because she wants a family marching band… and suddenly a hero appears. Even though they should listen, and even though our conversation is important, the hero sees something else; an opportunity he doesn’t want to miss. Daddy hurries for his guitar and begins to march through the kitchen as the two little ones fall into line. And I smile because I cannot remember what we were talking about that was so “important”. And I take a picture. This moment MUST be remembered forever…



I’ve worked a twelve- hour day and it’s not over yet… I’m trying to get through the bedtime quickly because I’m already yawning. I am firm and only read one story, like I said I would. No more, no less. One song. One prayer… And then they ask if they can pray. Their sweet little heads bowed, their tiny hands folded beneathclosed eyes, and I realize that the kingdom of heaven is present right before me. That everything I am working for is already happening. And I pray to God that this moment lasts forever…



     Nothing else matters. How lovely are those piles of laundry scattered all over my house. How lovely are the paint stains and crayon marks on my granite countertops. How lovely are those fingerprints that decorate my “clean” windows. How lovely are those voices that call to me for the hundredth time from their room even though they are supposed to be sleeping, “Mama! We need you!”







Katie... married her college sweetheart, and together they continue in youth ministry. They are finally living their dreams of he being a youth pastor and and her, a worship leader; however, the best part of her life is being a wife to her man and a mommy to her daughters. She can honestly say with all certainty that the melody of her life is that of God's unfathomable love and never-changing faithfulness.

My dream as a child was to travel the world, possibly join the Peace Corp, and ultimately write for National Geographic. It definitely wasn’t to chase kids around all day, changing diapers, doing dishes, cleaning up dog vomit and then the laundry…how the hell is there so much laundry in this house? I wear the same jeans three days in a row, hey don’t judge, they fit the best after day two, I would go four, but with my kids, there could be any number of things stuck to them, so even three days is pushing it, anyhow where was I?



Oh yeah, okay so my dream…right, I always wanted to be a mom, I just didn’t realize how much work it is to be a parent! I kinda thought that being a parent would be easy and fun. I thought that babies were so precious and slept “like babies” (who ever thought of that saying, obviously never had children). I thought it would be like the commercials, or the movies. Oh cute baby, magically turns into cute toddler, yes there are terrible twos, but everyone laughs about those, and then they become little kids who you can explore with and have fun with and play board games with, then the teenage years, coming of age, high school football games, first loves, chasing boyfriends out of bedroom windows, then college, then weddings, then magically I would be old and have my whole family, four children, my wonderful husband, the great grandparents all sitting around the Thanksgiving table, smiling in awe as I (who am in this vision, amazingly beautiful BTW) bring out an enormous turkey and set it down on our lavishly long table.





The reality is kinda depressing, so I won’t go into it too much. Wait that can’t be right? It isn’t depressing it’s just… work. None of it is easy. Being woken up every two hours by a newborn is enough to make even the strongest men and women cry. Potty training a toddler, or trying not to KILL everyone who gives you parenting advice, that you NEVER ask for - is work. Just the day to day, waking, diaper, breakfast, cleaning hands, faces, tables, feet (really how did you get that on your foot??), play time, monitoring while trying to get any amount of housework done, trying to be successful as something other than a mother (yeah good luck), ending fights, cleaning spills, more diapers, more meals, more laundry, putting on a smile when the husband gets home… it goes on and on, and only a parent can truly understand. Only someone who has been in those dark moments in the middle of the night, while a colicky baby screams for hours and hours and there is nothing you can do to stop it will understand what I mean by… how did I get here?



Maybe it’s just that no one really sees the efforts of a parent until those efforts are not there. Think about it, who are the families on the news? Who make the headlines? It’s always when something goes wrong. For the rest of the parents out there, there is no pat on the back, no one really says, “hey you’re doing a really good job.” It’s only when we aren’t doing our jobs that people notice. Think about it, when you see a child misbehaving in a store, or a child who desperately needs a bath…do we ever really pay attention when the mom with the clean, cute well behaved kids, comes through the door?



It reminds me of a story I heard once, it was about this little town and the one water source in the town was a stream. At the source of the water was a man who maintained the stream, he cleaned it, made sure there were no impurities, he took care of it for everyone. However, one year a new mayor was elected and he decided that paying this man to maintain the stream was ridiculous. So he cut the job, because really how hard is it for a stream to stay clean? Well within a few months people began getting sick, the water became cloudy, it smelled and was undrinkable, no one really understood what had happened, except the one man who once was the keeper of the stream. He was unappreciated, no one knew what he did, when his job was on the line, people criticized him for how much he had been paid for “doing nothing.” And now they all paid the price for not understanding and not valuing his work.





So no, this wasn’t my dream. Are you kidding, I just mowed all the weeds around our house for the last 2 hours, to get a BREAK! But this is my job, raising kids, taking care of the house, instilling values, making sure the clothes are clean and that everyone is eating enough vegetables. Yup that’s my job. It’s not glamorous (I just had a talk with my five year old about where we put our boogers). But it’s my job.



I am a writer, but first and foremost I am a mom, whether that works with my deadlines or not (usually not). I try to be a good wife, a good friend, a good daughter, a good member of society, a good pet owner…uhg so many responsibilities…but I have to remember that no matter what, right now, being a parent is my number one job. If I don’t do that then everything around me will fall apart too. I am responsible for the outcome of two little girls. Will they be successful adults, will they want to be smart and become contributing members of society? That is my job, and no one around me may understand the value of it, but I have to remember the value, because as soon as I forget, I can guarantee that all those people who didn’t see “what the big deal was” will be complaining about how my horrible parenting is! And then I’ll be blamed for the community falling apart. Okay so they might not be saying that, but it sure does feel like it when someone criticizes how you parent - doesn’t it.



We are all “the keeper of the stream.” It’s true, my kids…your kids…are the water, the lifeline, the future - of our communities. Raising them well, is something to be proud of. So no matter how much those long, never ending nights last, no matter how many diapers, or how many loads of laundry, I’ll try to remember that I’m making a difference. No one may ever say “thank you” for all of my hard work, in fact they probably won’t, and that’s why it’s even more important that I know I’m making a difference.



You are too by the way...has anyone told you today that you’re making a difference in the future of our society? Has anyone told you that you have a purpose? No?





Well you are. So thank you for changing the diapers, and cleaning the sink. Thank you for reading to your kids, thank you for kissing them goodnight…thank you for doing the hardest job you’ll ever love, wait that’s the Peace Corp – and I hear they let you sleep in the Peace Corp… SEE being a parent is even harder, and one day if you don’t already, you will love it.







Shauna... is a stay at home mom of two girls, she's the author of the "Waypoint" book series, and her personal blog"Breathe, Smile, Pray...Repeat." Her girls keep her on her toes, and have been the inspiration for many blog posts, here and on BSPR. She's just an ordinary mom trying to master the most natural job in the world.

Check out Shauna' sites:

www.waypointbookseries.com

www.breathesmileprayrepeat.blogspot.com

And one more thing..we love to hear your stories and comments below...and could you share us with your friends?? We love ya for it!!

By Guest Contributor {Emilie Sampson}

Almost six years ago, I gave birth to this perfect little monkey named Parker. He was my third baby and I had breastfed the other two with little to no issues. From day 1 Parker spit up. And not the typical small amount of baby spit up…like disgusting man-barf from this tiny, perfect bald baby. The doctor did MANY tests and no matter what medicines we tried…Parker still spit up. A friend of mine suggested that it could be something in my breast milk, so I decided to try cutting food out of my diet. I tried dairy first and it was an IMMEDIATE change. He stopped spitting up completely! As long as I did not consume the SMALLEST amounts of dairy (not even cream in my coffee), everything was golden….until Parker started eating solid food. As we began to add food to his diet (still eliminating all dairy), Parker began to get sick. He was losing weight by the week, and the doctors were concerned. We saw specialists and had a MULTITUDE of tests done, and eventually one gave us the answer. Parker had Celiac Disease. Celiac disease is a condition that damages the lining of the small intestine and prevents it from absorbing parts of food that are important for staying healthy. The damage is due to a reaction to eating gluten, which is found in wheat, barley, and rye. Switching to a gluten free (as well as dairy free) diet was a huge adjustment, but we saw the benefits immediately! After months of losing weight, as soon as we took Parker off all gluten, he gained 10 oz in one week!!



As I entered this world of food allergies, I had to learn how to read labels and how to find out what is REALLY in the food we eat! And the more people I opened up to about this, the more people I found that also deal with food allergies and food intolerance.



How many of us deal with daily ailments that could possibly be attributed to the food that we consume? Chronic headaches, stomachaches, rashes, irritability, insomnia, trouble focusing can all be signs of food allergies! Now, I am no medical professional (Seriously, guys…I’m not a doctor. Take their word for it, not mine), but I often wonder how many things we choose to medicate for that could be cured by a simple change in our diet.

It gets worse but I want you to still like me so we'll leave it at that... Is there anything in your life that is out of whack, but you justify it as "Just being how you are"?? Are you brave enough to put on your big girl panties (not to be confused with granny panties) with me and take the plunge.... I'm scared but I know it will be worth it...



P.S. If you'd like to know more about how you can have Kriste as your coach, check out her site at: www.coachingtowardempowerment.wordpress.com 



P.S.S. Not this isn't a paid review of her services... we're not that kind of blog... we just like what we like and we pass it on:):)

Katie... married her college sweetheart, and together they continue in youth ministry. Last year they left her hometown and moved with their two daughters to Southern Oregon to start a young adult ministry at Table Rock Fellowship.







The past year feels like a mountain. I’ve been slowing scaling it, step after step, with my husband and my side, my kids in tow. I wont go into the details of all that has happened, because most of you know and the rest of you don’t want to know. It’s been the hardest climb of my life. We're climbing this mountain because it’s the path we’ve chosen. It’s what we know is right. And it hasn’t been easy. It’s been full of ravines that we have managed to climb out of, and full of cliffs that we have managed NOT to fall off of.

I could spend all my time looking back down the mountain. I can see it all if I look behind. I can see the place where I was when I got the first phone call. I can see the pile of stones I sat upon when mom passed away. I can see the places my family collapsed to rest. Further up still, the places I stood when other news came my way. More phone calls, more conversations, more stabs in my heart. If I let myself, I could crawl into those memories and just let them darken my soul.



Or I could look up and take in everything else I can see from way up here. When I see the light of the sun on my children’s faces, I feel my heart lighten. When I lean against my husband’s arm and breathe deep of the air up here, clean and clear, I feel my burden lessen. When I look up, I see beauty.



I’m not just surviving anymore. I’m thriving. I’m growing. My family with me. It’s up to me really, how I react to these things that continue to happen. Because life is messy. Because people are messy. And things look even messier when I look down, when I focus on all that has happened, all that has been done to me. But, when I lift my eyes up to the mountains, to the sunrise, to the horizon, from this high place on which God has brought me . . . I see where my help comes from. I see how far I have come. I see how far He wants to take me.



And I can keep going. Not just dragging, but running. Leaping. Climbing vigorously. Celebrating. Suddenly, the climb is not about all that I’m leaving behind, but about all that I am going towards. I get stronger as I climb. As I look up. Those glances back are healthy. They are healing. As long as I look forward again when I’m done.



So hand in hand we walk, my family and I. Climbing upward. I’ll remember everything from this time. My husband will as well. We’ll treasure these things in our heart. I don’t know how much my kids will remember from this time. I hope they don’t remember the meltdowns I had. I hope they wont remember just the pain of loss and change, but how we got through it. How we tried to keep our focus on what was true, and pure, and good, and hopeful. That God never changes. I hope they’ll remember this when their own climb gets hard someday.



But for now, I hope we all learn to enjoy the view. That we learn to play, leaping from rock to rock instead of complaining about the hurdles. That we get stronger from this time, because it wont always be this way. Someday we’ll get to soar. And I want to be ready for that when it comes.