Fridays at First Day: Three Beliefs About God

Do you make a distinction between your spiritual life and your non-spiritual life?  Or do you actively incorporate your beliefs into how you live every day?  I was recently challenged to give this some deeper thought.  And then I wrote this.  And now I am going to go contemplate it some more.  I hope you will join me...  

Three Beliefs about God

Always one to think out loud, I first responded that I believe I am loved. This belief encourages me to love others in return and simplifies the way I think about love. It is just what I try my best to do. And I don’t simply love people like me or who I know will love me in return. I love because God loved me first and because I don’t always deserve it either.

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Fridays at First Day: Letting Go in the Rain

I am certain every single one of you can relate to this.  Especially parents.  And, most especially, moms.  It is so easy to let ourselves get super emotionally wrapped up in the little things.  We take pride in our children and in our homes and in our life's work.  When things go bonkers (and they do at least 27 times a day) we take it to heart.  I think that is completely acceptable as long as we carefully place these moments in that safe place in our heart where life makes us smile.  The mud can be washed away, the dog won't be a pup forever, and our little ones grow up and change at least 27 times a day.  Will you walk with me and learn to let go in the rain?

Letting Go in the Rain

Not that long ago, a series of events like this would have caused me to literally scream and want to pull out my hair. I would have become frustrated beyond belief, feigning calmness to my children between clenched teeth. I would have grumbled and stomped, feeling guilty all along that I couldn’t keep it together. But this time, I laughed it off, chalked it up to the craziness of this beautiful life.  Read more...

Friday's at First Day: How the Grinch Saved Christmas

As promised, I am blogging over at The First Day.  My posts continue to be Christmas-themed for this online magazine which focuses on arts, culture, faith and practice.  Today, I tell a sweet story about what one Christmas was like at my house.  It did not involve the Elf on the Shelf.  It involved the Grinch.  And it was something I will never forget.

Please follow the title link below to read my article in full.  And, as always, let The First Day (and me) know what you think.  

How the Grinch Saved Christmas
My mom claims that my dad has become “grinchier” over the years. When they were first married, he was still a giddy kid, the one that made Christmas special for the two of them each year. But, as people do, he has changed a bit over the years. He is no grinch, but I agree that fewer sugar plums dance in his head. So, one year, my mom, who coincidentally has gotten a bit jollier over time, bought him a miniature, plush, “How the Grinch Stole Christmas” doll as a gift.  Read more...

Next week, my plan is to write a commentary type post on one of my favorite Christmas carols.  What are some of yours?  

Fridays at First Day: The Truth About Santa

I am thrilled to announce that I will be writing weekly for The First Day, an online magazine and quarterly print publication focusing on art, culture, faith and practice.  The content and collaboration excites me and I will be sure to share my "Fridays at First Day" each week here on my blog.

This week's post might stir up a bit of controversy, but more than that I just hope it gives you a glimpse into my life and how I am attempting to live it to the fullest.  Please follow the title link below to the rest of the article on The First Day and do not hesitate to comment over there, no matter how you feel.  Comments are always appreciated.

The Truth About Santa 

We still share Christmas stories and songs about Santa, but we don’t bring his character to life in the ways many parents choose to do. We don’t encourage our kids to write him letters or rile them up when he makes an appearance. We don’t build up the idea of receiving a huge pile of presents on Christmas morning. And, we never employ him as a behavioral tool, threatening that his affection would be based on “how naughty” or “how nice” the kids are during the year.  Read more.

Check back next week for another Friday at First Day, starring The Grinch!

My Kingdom for a Squeezy Yogurt

Today was a "hang-around day" as the girls and I call it.  My preschooler was home sick and so errands and outings were put on hold in exchange for paramount pretending and a healthy amount of television.

We played "resturnaut" (restaurant), "checker" (store) and celebrated everyone's birthday at least once with invitations, cake, tea and presents.  Overall, besides being extra intense, it was an enjoyable day.  My youngest refused to nap, I took my on-duty power shower at 5pm, and I never unloaded the dishwasher, but all of that is fine with me.

I just don't want to get sick.

Because Friday, I get to pretend to be grown up.  I get to catch a train to New York for a day-long conference.  I get to wear clothes I haven't worn since I was working.  I get to network with other like-minded women.  I get to hear perspectives from some of the most innovative Christian thinkers and writers today.  I even get to visit with a lifelong friend and eat multiple meals in real "resturnauts."  If I had a beret, you might just catch me tossing it into the Manhattan air as I stroll down the bustling streets.

And while I know that God has me right where He wants me, I obviously continue to struggle with being "just a mom".  It can be challenging to accept serving "squeezy yogurts" as Kingdom work.  I know I could be doing even more to serve this world and those who live in it.  The question is: should I?

Coincidentally, the conference is all about Women and Calling.  What roles are women meant to have in this world?  Any one they desire?  How do we balance work outside the home with that for our families?  Do we "Lean In"?  Do we "Lean Out"?  Do we "Shake It All About?"

Because, clearly, despite our best efforts, we cannot do it all.  But, for some reason, I still try.

Like today, I got an email from the conference requesting a title, bio and headshot to enhance our online presence at the conference.  I immediately attempted to mentally craft my response in the whirlwind that is lunch, laundry, naps, and pooping shenanigans during naps.  And since I wasn't in the best head space, I came up with something along the lines of:

Mommy (Miss Kristin) is never alone.  She can be found constantly correcting her "clients" both two-legged and four.  When everyone is actually sleeping she spends her free time planning for positions that she gets paid absolutely nothing to fill.  While Kristin met her husband in college, she barely recognizes who she remembers she was at that time. She will always be a "Balti-moron" at heart even though her husband's successful career may move them away one day.  Her happy place is at her blog, Kristin Has Two Eyes (which are probably closed.  Shh.  She's napping.)


But, don't fret.  This is what I submitted instead:

Kristin LeFeber is a stay-at-home mom to her two young girls.  She leads both an adult house church and the preschool ministry at New Hope Community Church in Pikesville, MD.  Prior to domestic life, Kristin earned a B.S. in Education from Grove City College and worked as a Marketing Coordinator for the city of Baltimore where she and her family still live.  She can be reached at www.kristinhastwoeyes.blogspot.com


Wish me (whoever I am) well. Like, literally. I really don't want to get sick!

Just Another Rainy Thursday

It rained ALL DAY.  In fact, it is still raining.  Thankfully, I thought to schlep out in the middle of the day to retrieve firewood and let it dry out.  As I write this, my fingers and toes are toasty from our first of many fires this season.

The rain made the morning a bit mundane.  Neither the kids nor I were feeling all that energetic or creative. They had some success playing games together.  I tried to get a few things done around the house.  My blatant disregard for my children during these brief intervals caused them to immediately crank and fuss and, all of a sudden, no game was good enough.  I put on Diego.

The rain rewarded us in the afternoon with extended quiet time.  I got my work done.  I read my book.  I listened to the sound of the rain against the window and then realized that was all I could hear.  My oldest rarely actually sleeps during nap time anymore and that is just as well.  We all get our breaks even though mine is to the soundtrack of her constant narrative.  But, today she had looked very tired and I was glad she had succumbed.  Our upcoming weekend will be busy as was our previous one.

Just as I dozed off myself, I heard her cry out in alarm, "Mommy!  Mommy!"  I knew she had woken up, confused in a fuzz after midday sleep.  I scaled the steps in that quick way only someone who lives here can, and found her sitting up on her bed.

"It's OK, baby, " I whispered, my other baby still down.  "You fell asleep today.  You feel weird?  Come here, lie back down with Momma."

She quickly obliged and told me she was cold.  I wrapped us both tight and she snuggled deep into my arms, her face to my chest.  Only a few minutes later, she was fast asleep, her cute lips slightly parted, her breath sweet on my skin.  I was in heaven, cradling her little body and stroking her soft, orange hair.

I closed my eyes, but then she shifted abruptly and I knew it would end.  I looked down at her and found her looking up at me in genuine surprise.

"Mommy, why are you in here?" she asked with a smile.  "I didn't know you were here."

I started to explain what had happened, but the longer I spoke the more concerned she looked.  So I paused.

And then, my four-and-a-half-year-old angel, baby doll peed all over herself, the bed, and me.

A not so noble steed

Do penguins have lips?  This is a question I found myself pondering Saturday night while driving home from a date with my husband.  I don't think they do, but the penguin toy we bought for our dog while out together seems to.  He is really cute (our dog, the toy and my husband.)  We haven't bought either of our girls any Christmas presents yet, but Ben (the dog) is set.

Do I call the police or a tow truck?  This is an entirely different question I found myself pondering Sunday afternoon while lodged in an off ramp embankment.  Apparently, if you call the police (or let the angel-of-a-chick truck driver who saw the whole thing call them for you) they call a tow truck.  I had never been in an accident before.  It's hardly a bucket list kind of thing, but I suppose I can now check it off for 2012.

I'm not completely certain what happened.  I know the weather was to blame.  I know I closed my eyes right before the car hit the guard rail.  I know I ended up trunk deep in damp grassy knoll.  The rest can somewhat be pieced together by the iPhone footage I had the "presence of mind" (read "wonky adrenaline laden brain") to capture before I even thought to call my husband.  Brilliant. Thankfully, Carissa, the aforementioned truck driver, was kind enough to pull over and help guide me through the remaining process.  

A police officer also arrived on the scene before too long.  As she ambled closer and closer to the car I felt instant relief, not because I knew she could help, but because I became absolutely certain that she was, indeed, a woman.  Never underestimate the power of ascertaining someone's gender.  It really ups the comfort level in these types of situations. 

I should mention that my 3-year-old was with me when all of this occurred.  She, unlike me, stayed calm the entire time, simply noting that despite having to hold on to her car seat very tight her tiara didn't even fall off.  Thankfully, a great friend was able to come by and take her to the birthday party we had been attempting to attend in the first place.  I am grateful her little world kept turning without missing too many beats.

I was also grateful that I got to attend the princess party (the car was towed out of the ditch, but remained drivable) because it meant I was greeted with warm coffee, a huge piece of chocolate cake and smiling faces.  Of course, it also meant I cried all over again as my nerves defrosted off of me and landed in the arms of my friends, moms and dads like me, who just want to get through the day in one piece.

And, somehow, we always do.