Friday, August 1, 2014

trust is a great alternative to freaking out

Post #7 in the Octennial Blog Celebration - share on FB or post on your blog for a chance to win a Tired Supergirl book!

Wednesday, July 25, 2012

trust is a great alternative to freaking out

This past year I wrote a book on control issues.
Most people write books because they are experts on the subject.
I write because it is part of my journey of following Jesus.
If I am on expert on anything it is that I am an expert on inner struggle.
Not really something that you would put on a resume.
But I don't think I am so different from most Christ followers.
We triumph...we fall...we get back up and Jesus helps us dust off our knees...
and we continue on the journey of following, listening, questioning, worshiping
and rejoicing, asking him to shape our lives into something that glorifies him.
It is a mixed bag. But it is the only bag I want.
It is the only journey that leads to freedom and love and redemption.
So back to control issues.
It seems that in this season in my life, Jesus is once again gently prying my
fingers off of my own life. Asking me to trust him.
Reminding me that only he knows what is coming next.
Pulling me towards him. Trying to quell the anxious flailing that is going on
in my spirit when I don't know what the future holds.
I have tried to remind him,
"I wrote a book about this...letting go, trusting you, getting free...remember?"
And it seems he is saying, "Yep....I I want to you live it."
He is asking me to live in a place of uncertainty and anchor myself in who he is
rather than try and rearrange my circumstances.
He is asking me to wait on his direction instead barging ahead on a frantic
path of anxiety.
And you know what? It's hard.
It seems that I am incredibly human after all.
I don't bend to his will or words so easily.
But I read this this morning,

"For I am the Lord Your God, who stirs up the sea, causing its waves to roar.
My name is the Lord Almighty.
And I have put my words in your mouth and hidden you safely within my hand.
I set all the stars in space and established the earth.
I am the one who says to Israel, "You are mine!" (Isaiah 51:15-16)

Why would I choose to wrench myself free from the one who so gently holds
my heart and life in his palm?

Who am I to say what is the best or the greatest or the right path for me...
when the one who calls me to follow him has laid the foundations of the earth
and breathed life into all of humanity?

How can I not, one more time,
turn my face towards the one who has set the sun in the heavens and named the stars?

So this morning, I'm taking a deep non-controlling breath and saying to Jesus,
"You are right. I am yours. Do your thing. I will trust you."
Even when I don't have a clue about what is coming around the next corner.
Or maybe...
especially because I don't have a clue about what is coming around the next corner.
And because according to the One who established the earth...
He's got this, too.

Wednesday, July 30, 2014

meet mrs. cranky pants

Post #6 in the Octennial Blog Celebration - share on your blog or facebook for a chance
to win a tired supergirl book!

meet mrs. cranky pants

So after a 10 day lapse of reality (vacation), 
the Aughtmon clan flew back home and was immediately immersed in real living.
Re-entry is never pretty.
Work started the next day for both Scott and I with teacher in-service week, 
followed shortly by all three boys beginning a new school year. 
This resulted in some of us being very tired and quite possibly not our normal chipper selves.
After my first day with a new pre-school class of 3 and 4 year olds, 
I fell asleep around 7:30 trying to go over homework with Will on the couch....
not my finest hour as a mother.
When I dragged myself off the couch to find the children running a-muck, 
the living room in a shambles and homework unfinished, 
I may or may not have started barking out mean-spirited orders like,
"Get your clothes out for tomorrow!"
"Pick up your socks...all 17 of them that you have thrown on the floor!"
"Brush your teeth!"
"For the love of Mike, get in bed!"
As Scott caught sight of me, hair askew, wild-eyed, he asked me,
"Are those new pants you have on?" 
"What?" I said, caught off guard.
"Are those the new pants that you got in Colorado?"
"Yes," I said.
"Are those cranky pants? They seem like cranky pants. 
We would like you to take those cranky pants back to the store 
and get a pair of nice pants instead."
And of course, I had to start laughing since, it did seem like I was, indeed, wearing some very cranky pants.
(I am thankful that my husband has grace for me and my pants...I really am.)
It seems that my cranky pants were paired with some angry socks and an unforgiving t-shirt.
How was I to know that my clothing could be so volatile?
I told Scott, 
"I am sorry I am so cranky...I am very tired...I think I should go to bed."
Scott re-assured me that he also thought I should go to bed. 
Both he and the boys would love for me to go to bed.
They could carry on quite happily without me.
So I went. But first I put my cranky pants in the laundry.
I'm hoping that a good double rinse cycle and a tumble dry will turn them into
nice, friendly pants.
I may need to use some strong detergent.

Monday, July 28, 2014

the first and last swim class

Post #5 of the Octennial Blog celebration - share on your blog or FB for a chance to win a tired supergirl book!

Monday, June 29, 2009

the first and last swim class

This is the first year that I signed Addison up for swim lessons.
Since he is just three, the parks and rec guy said that the mom and toddler
class would be the one for him. I would need to be in the pool with him
So last Tuesday Addison and I showed up for our swim class.
Along with about 10 other moms with their children.
Let's just start off by saying that disrobing and climbing into a pool
with a bunch of other people that you don't know is a bit unnerving.
Layer that with the cold hard truth that everyone else had brought
their INFANTS along to swim and it is even a bit more awkward.
It was mom and baby class and then there is Sue and her giant man-child.
Addison is a bit tall for his three years and his low voice reminds
us of a trucker from the the Bronx.
I got a few stares. 
I laughed out loud nervously...several women were cooing and 
nuzzling their babies and Addison was nearly treading water beside me
and talking in full sentences like,
"The pool is very warm this afternoon, isn't it, Mother?"
When the teachers told us to place our little ones on the side of the pool 
like Humpty Dumpty and have them fall into our arms in the pool,
while other babies screeched in delight flinging themselves at their moms,
Addison performed a half gainer into the pool. 
There was also a crew of daddy paparazzi present. Because these moms had brought
their husbands to snap pictures of their cuddly babies meeting water for the first time.
The sounds of photos being snapped while I was in my bathing suit really set my nerves on edge.
The class took a definite downward slide when we played the game of "The Baby in the Pool" sung to the tune of "The Wheels on the Bus".
The teachers told us we would go around the circle and we would all be required to come up with our own verse with which to lead the class.
Right away I thought "The Baby in the pool goes splash, splash, splash!" Brilliant.
Wouldn't you know the girl/baby team next to me took my "splash, splash, splash" verse? 
I was left scrambling and could only come up with a lame,
"The Baby in pool goes wave their hands."
Yep, you read correctly. Goes wave their hands. All of my syntax and knowledge
of the English language left me in my moment of song panic in the pool.
Then we had to play "London Bridges" and trail each other in a large loopy circle under the bridge of styrofoarm pool noodles held by the swim teachers.
All I could do was pray that I would not be the my fair lady that would be caught up in the noodle bridge during "take the keys and lock her up" part of the song.
I knew for sure that if we were locked up the teachers would get a close look at us
and know that somehow I had snuck my 11 year old into a mom and baby swim class.
The hour could not be over quick enough for me. Or for Addison, either.
At one point he looked at me and said, "I not a baby, Mom."
I believe we were in our car and driving away before the last mom and baby posed for the final paparrazi "climbing out of the pool" shoot.
The next morning found me back in the rec office transferring Addison to a swim class
all on his own.
And I will go back to being where I should be during swim class. 
Sitting in the shade reading a book. 
Praise the Lord and pass the suntan lotion...the world has righted itself.

Sunday, July 27, 2014

peace or something like it

Post #4 of the Octennial Blog Celebration -
Share this post on your blog or facebook for a chance to win a tired supergirl book.

Thursday, January 15, 2009

peace or something like it

I have always thought of peace as a feeling.
Like an overwhelming wave of softness that settles on your soul.
Or a heavy calm, a contentedness that sits in your mind.
But most days, with 3 little boys, 1 big one, a church plant,
school activities, bills, mildew on the shower curtain and
a small gathering of ants camping out near the foot of the tub,
I find myself screeching, "Can't I get a little bit of peace in here?"
Sometimes I think I should be able to find peace in my bathroom
if I just lock the door. Or by reading a book under a throw on the couch.
Or by driving far away by myself with a tall cafe misto from Starbucks.
But that is more like an escape.
So maybe peace isn't a feeling. Maybe it is an action.
Choosing to go with what God is sending my way without resistance. Peace.
Accepting the chaos and the joy of a full household with a resounding, "Yes!"
instead of trying to retreat. Peace.
Revelling in the moment instead of worrying about the future. Peace.
Looking the things that scare me the most in the eye and moving forward. Peace.
Maybe peace is forgetting about my limitations and focusing on God's abilities.
Or maybe peace is about the passing of fear.
The knowledge that circumstances are not changing but the way I view God and his place in my life is.
I'm not sure how this next year is going to turn out. But God knows. Peace.
I gained 5 lbs eating scones at Christmas. But God loves me anyway. Peace.
I don't understand how life works. But God does. Peace.
I'm not exactly sure how peace moves or how it found its way into my soul.
But I felt a small surge of it this morning.
And I'm going with it.

Saturday, July 26, 2014

bangs shame is complete

Post # 3 of the Octennial Blog Celebration -
share this on your blog or Facebook for a chance to win a Tired Supergirl book!

Friday, March 14, 2008

bangs unveiled

Due to technical difficulties with our beyond slow computer
I have been unable to release the bang picture until this time.
Brace yourselves, tsgs.
I thought I would like to take you through the day of bang
heinousness along with some other fashion atrocities.
Friday afternoon
#1 glanced at my bangs in the mirror
#2 was ashamed by the limpness and longness of my bangs
#3 grabbed scissors and cut my bangs just a tad crooked but let it go
#4 got a free moment when Scott came home to run to the store
#5 shoved my tennies on and shot out to the grocery sans kids
#6 noticed the bag boy smiling curiously at me
#7 noticed that I was wearing these shoes

(I swear they looked the same from the back
when I grabbed them from my closet)
#8 got home and told Scott to snap a picture of my shoes
#9 and of my bangs while he was at it
#10 Scott curled into fetal position for the shame of my bangs
#11 Scott showed me the picture of my bangs

(pick yourself up off of the floor so you can finish the post)
#12 I joined him in fetal position
#13 blogged about my bangs
#14 re-trimmed my bangs...straighter but now even shorter
Sunday morning getting ready for church
#1 Noticed that very short bang trim unearthed my unkempt eyebrows
(if you revisit the bang picture you can see the direness of the
eyebrow situation)
#2 searched high and low for tweezers to no avail
#3 feel sure that tweezers have found themselves hijacked by boys
as a tool of vengeance and are lost in amongst the legos
#4 told Scott we needed to buy tweezers on the way to church
#5 Scott agreed but could not look at me for the shame of my eyebrows
#6 running late....what's new
#7 told Scott to forget tweezers we could get them later
#8 Scott looked scared and insisted we had time to get tweezers
#9 told Scott we would get to church late
#10 Scott, church planter, pastor is willing to be late to church
because of the shame of my eyebrows
Scott said that since I have chosen to put this hideous picture on
the web, no one will buy my book.
But I believe you can't judge a tired supergirl's book by her bangs....
or her eyebrows...
or her shoes.....
Please buy my book anyway. Or just donate money to the
"Tired Supergirl Makeover Fund."
Clearly we need more than a beauty week, tsgs.
Maybe we need an entire year at a spa to right the wrong
of this past weekend and to heal my marriage.
Keep the prayers coming.

Friday, July 25, 2014

the sad story of my bangs

Post #2 of the Octennial Blog Celebration....
Share this post on your blog or FB for a chance to win a Tired Supergirl Book!

Sunday, March 2, 2008

Sometimes people don't have time or money to get their hair cut.
So they take matters into their own hands.
Their hair dresser, who is a dear friend, knows these people sometimes
cut their own bangs and specifically told them how to cut their bangs.
But sometimes even specific instructions go horribly awry
and people end up looking like this....

like Jim Carrey in Dumb and Dumber.
Or maybe a little bit like this....

Like Frankenstein because some people really do have high foreheads.
Or like this....

Like Mary Alice from Ace of Cakes on the Food Network...
Now mind you, this is not to say Mary Alice does not look sassy
with her short little punk rock bangs. Mary Alice has it going on.
But I do not like punk rock.
And I don't have any studded bracelets to go with my short bangs,
which by the way started out crooked,hence, I had to go shorter.
And then Scott begged me, tsgs, please do not put your picture
up on the world wide web for all of the 20 people
who read your blog to know your shame.
And he said this looking at the ground since he can no longer
look at my face for the shame of my very high bangs.
And then he had the absolute nerve to say they were still a bit
crooked and that maybe I wanted to try and have another go at them
as if I could possibly cut my bangs any shorter.
To which I shrieked, "I'm not going higher! They can stay crooked!"
And that is the sad story of my bangs.
But I did discover if I raise my eyebrows very high
my bangs look longer.
And for someone in my condition that is good to know.
I think I may try and hide my bangs
behind some large glittery barrettes.
And I know that really you would just like me
to post a picture of my hideously high bangs
but I'm trying to save my marriage, girls, I really am.
Who would have known a marriage built on love and trust
could be wiped out so easily by hideous bangs?
In the immortal words of my mother-in-law,
Pray heavy, girls, pray heavy.

Wednesday, July 23, 2014


When I started blogging 800 posts ago, I had no idea I would still be writing it 7 years later.
I don't think, excepting my marriage, I have ever stuck with anything that long.
I'm great at starting things...finishing? Eh.
But this blog has been different.
In some ways it has kept me on the path of writing,
it has kept me connected to people i love
and other moms and people who just like to laugh at me,
it has chronicled my journey of realizing my dream of being a writer,
my successes and epic fails of motherhood and marriage,
my desires to follow Jesus with my whole life,
my joy and my grief, my growth as a writer and
my sad inability to keep my children from looking like street urchins.
And you have been a part of that journey.
The best part.
With your encouraging words and laughter and shared tears.
And for that I am eternally grateful.
As an octennial celebration,
For the next 8 days, I will be posting your favorite posts and mine,
and giving away 8 free books every day...because free is my favorite.
Share this post on your blog or on FB for a chance to win your choice of one my 3 books.
As a thank you. Because you are the best!
So here we go:

April 17, 2007

supergirl underwear says it all

A couple of years ago, my friend, Melissa, gave me a pair of supergirl underwear as a gag gift...
she thought it was funny....
I, on the other hand, will never turn down a good pair of panties. Who doesn't love new underwear? So I wore them.
One morning I was changing and Jack, who was 4 at the time, walked in on me.
He looked at me for a second and said,
"Mom, your secret identity has been revealed!"
Jack knew. He knew that I would love to be supergirl.
To be more than...
To be unique...
To be excellent in some way....
Able to leap tall laundry in a single bound....
Able to wipe out the forces of evil and keep my house clean...
Able to become the person God created me to be compared to the person I actually am....
Having the guts to chase down my dreams and pursue my destiny 
while looking hot in a red, white and blue unitard ....
By the way, who looks good in a unitard anyway? Especially, paired with boots...
someone has NOT been watching "what not to wear"
but I digress....
so I am a tired supergirl, not quite there yet but believing someday with God's hand on me,
with the love and encouragement of my fellow supergirls and some good chocolate...
I will get there.