My Most Important Job


My Most Important Job

This morning was a struggle. Everyday is a race, but this morning was extra nerve-wracking. The trouble started at 7:40. The two oldest wanted to leave by that time so they could “be there early”. The middle boy was still brushing his teeth, and the youngest was still eating a waffle.

Somehow we managed to leave the house at 7:48. No idea how.

There was a short award ceremony this morning for AR readers, so we did that. I love getting to support the boys. Then we came home, just J.D. and me.

That’s when the struggle got real.

Why? Because I thought I could get work done with my 3-year-old at home. hahahahahaha

I have a giveaway I need to run, but the photos aren’t ready….because I haven’t taken them yet…I have an affiliate that I’ve promised paperwork to.

And I haven’t posted since Sunday, and I’m starting to feel like I’m on a treadmill set on 6.0 and I only have one leg, a feeling many of us know well.

Hilarious, isn’t it? Did you know that bloggers have work stress? Well, yes, sometimes we do.

Also, it’s sheet day, the day I wash sheets, and I am behind on housework as always. 

But I wanted to put my three-year-old first.

I wanted to be a good mom. Instead of working on all those things, I colored with him first. We traced letters, and we colored about 10 different pages of Peppa Pig. (We love the Pig family.)

I thought I’d filled his little love tank enough and I could move on to dishes, Bible reading, and checking email. People are always ridiculing me for not having read the emails they sent.

J.D. let me do the dishes and read my Bible, but once I sat down to do email, all productivity brakes were hit full force.

“I’m hungry.”

“I’m hungry again.”

“Can I watch Toy Story?”

“Not the one with the blue one. The one with Zurv.”

The one with Zurg is broken, so that was out.

“Okay, then, the one where Andy grows up and becomes a dad.”

I guess that’s what he thinks “goes to college” means…

Toy Story 3 was nowhere to be found. He went overboard with the whining. I had a moment….. By this point, the Benadryl I’d given him for his runny nose was in full effect. He was crying. I was whining and out of patience.  I sent him to his room.

He had his broken-heart face on as he sat in his rocking chair and cried. Gets me every time. I felt bad for the sweet, tiny person I’d offended. I went to his room, I picked him up. I comforted him, and rubbed his precious forehead.

And he fell asleep.

I rocked him, and I admired his sweet angelic face. I thought about all the times I’d gotten so worked up about stupid jobs that would earn me a few dollars, when here was this baby, this person who depended on me for everything. They need me to train them into successful, hard-working men.

But today he’s only 3 years old, and he and his brothers are my most important jobs. I can have a few less dollars and be fine.

Those blog jobs will just have to wait.

We can get a week behind on washing the sheets.

Priorities. If juggling 4 children, the military life, and my work has taught me nothing else, it’s the importance of priorities.

We only get one shot at our children. They grow right in front of us, and we can’t even see it.

My Most Important Job

back row, far right. “Singing” at church.

They are our most important responsibility. Our marriage is an even more important relationship, but our children are our job. If we don’t love them and meet their needs, probably no one else will. If all children were loved as they should be, there would be far less crime and hurt in this world.

My Maw-Maw, one of my favorite people in the whole world, wrote this poem. I bet she wrote it when she was around my age. I don’t know exactly. She was taken from us way too soon, at the age of 56, by untreated breast cancer that spread to her bones.

She spent many years as a single mom. You know my Bible journal? Yeah, she had a library of about 120 of those. She’d take poems, quotes, and Bible verses pair them with a pretty picture from a magazine or greeting card, and compile them into scrapbooks, organized by topics. They ranged from “love”, “God’s will”, “Humor”, to “Gossip” and “Life”. 120 different topics.

Here’s a poem she wrote about the dangers of neglecting our jobs as moms.

Please understand that my Maw-Maw was not against women working. She worked several different jobs over the years. She worked in a sewing factory, a grocery store, and she even owned and operated her own book store, Beth’s Books, not all at the same time, of course. She was a lovely, inoffensive person, who always smelled like Avon perfume and never left home without her false eyelashes on. She loved nothing better than reading a book with a cigarette and a glass of unsweet iced tea.



My Most Important Job


What’s Happened to Motherhood?


You compete with the men

And an equal right you demand

While you leave your children in the baby sitter’s hand.

The pleasure of motherhood

Is a gift God gave to you.

Giving birth to a chid

Is something no man can do!

The hand that rocks the cradle

Rules the world, you say,

But stop and think;

Who’s rocking the cradle today?

What’s happened to motherhood?

Is it old-fashioned or out of style?

What could ever be more important

Than caring for your child?

Sure, you love your child

More than you could ever say,

But have you taken time

To teach him how to pray?

When he has a problem

And needs to talk to you,

Can he come to you any time,

Or wait ’till your day is through?

While you work hard to achieve your goal

Your children so quickly grow.

And saddest of all is

What you’re missing you’ll never know.

~by Beth H. King




I know that poem may ruffle a few feathers, but I share it because

1.) I miss Maw-maw so much, and reading her poems brings her back.


2.) I think it’s a valid reminder of what is our most important job as moms.


We might as well enjoy this gift of motherhood. Love y’all. Have a great weekend!



A Prayer for My Children



a prayer for my children

My boys, stalking sea lions in Monterey, just like their mom.

Today I was walking around my backyard, feeling thankful for the Nerf bullets in the grass and the bare dirt spots on the lawn because they are signs that my babies still live here.

They grow so fast, but for today they are still here with us, and I was feeling ever so thankful. This poem/prayer fairly burst right out of my heart, so I came inside and jotted it down. I hope you like it.

All of my children are boys, and there are 4 of them, so this is a little unique to that. However, a lot of it I know you may be able to relate to.



Dear God,

Thank you for these boys.

Thank you for Nerf bullets in the grass,

for a living room floor littered with their toys.

Thank you for their sass.

For tiny Lego men in the laundry basket and the noise,

Thank you for the noise.


Thank you for popcorn kernels in the couch,

for little plastic Batman in my bathtub,

and even the moments I beg them not to slouch.

Thank you for the way he runs when I approach with the washcloth to scrub

All that sunbutter off his adorable cheekies and his mouth.


Thank you for their fighting,

and their running, and their bouncing,

Their snacking, video-game playing, yes, even their messy hand-writing.

Thank you for the sounds of laughing, crying, and being rowdy.


Thank you for their tuition bill,

their baseball and basketball games,

The way they hug me, even when they smell.

And of course sometimes call each other names.

Thank you for the way they look after each other.


Thank you for all the dirt and clutter

and all the lessons to teach and walls to scrub clear.

Because what it means is that for now we are all here together.

And love is filling the house, and we are growing good men here.

Thank you for making me their mother.

~April Alan







Is the Christmas stress beginning to set in for any of you? I can feel it. Christmas is more of a Mega-Urgent Task for me this year. I’m spending next week away at Science Camp with my kids. I’m afraid it’s going to be one of those no t.v./no internet sort of deals, since it’s a retreat center. That bums me out. How’s a girl supposed to entertain two pre-schoolers all day and night and do any Christmas shopping, without the internet or television?

What was I thinking, signing up for this?

Do you think the children would let me back out?

Once we get back, late in the evening on the 11th, we will turn around and fly to Alabama on the 13th.

Who planned this? I need to develop a greater compassion for my future self when I’m signing up for mess. Instead, I’m afraid I’m going to BE the mess.

So that’s my dilemma. To get out of Science Camp or to not get out of it? Can you tell which way I’m leaning?

Ironically enough, I have just begun reading this fantastic book. If you are related to me, don’t buy it. You might be getting it for Christmas. If you are not related to me, BUY IT, read it. You won’t regret it.  Here’s a link:

I highly recommend this book.

I loved this quote:

“That daily stuff–those responsibilities that seem more like distractions–those things we want to rush and just get through to get on with the better and bigger assignments of life–those things that are unnoticed places of service? They are the very experiences from which we unlock the riches of wisdom. We’ve got to practice wisdom in the everyday places of our lives.”      Lisa Terkeurst, page 41

Ah, the everyday tasks….

deciding whether or not to cancel Science Camp

potty training

feeding children—Doesn’t it seem like all you do, as a mom? By the time you clean up one meal, it’s time to begin prepping the next.


laundry—oh laundry

Crying, sick toddlers

children that should be napping.

the desperate desire to rest…

I went to sleep at 8:30pm Saturday night, with a fever of 99.8. I didn’t fully wake up until 8:30am Sunday morning. Don’t worry. I’m not sick. I live with a fever half the time, and we don’t know why.

I have a rheumatologist appointment on Wednesday, but I have this feeling that they will not be able to figure it out either, and they’ll send me home saying that I’m fine.

I know. I’m sounding like a bummer. I DO NOT want to be such a drag, so allow me to share happier thoughts..

Our two years in California feels like a strange detour. We’ve been plunked down in what is not a foreign land, and yet in many ways it is. Even the seasons are different. The grass turns green in November. It turns brown around June.

This is what brings me the most comfort through all of the uncertainty, the decisions that come with being a parent, the health problems, the loneliness of home schooling, and the home-sickness:

Trusting God.

I am prone to full-on stress-ball fits of freaking out. Get two or three kids talking in my ear, about two or three different demands, and a toddler asking to pee, all at once, and I begin to unravel.

I can’t take it! Would you please all take a number and sit down? No, there are no numbers, but there should be!!

But God is here. God brought us here, and He does not leave us alone. Let the world think what they want to think. Let the angry people fuss. Doesn’t matter.


our big beautiful world

This world is a beautiful place, created by God himself. Believing otherwise is foolish. My sons love to make things out of Lego blocks. I wouldn’t look at one of their creations and try to figure out how it came to be. It is obviously created by someone.

That applies even more so with living, breathing people. Humans, animals, and plants are incredible! How could anyone look at these intricate systems and believe that they magically formed themselves? Ludicrous.

Believing is a choice. Some people simply refuse to believe in anything. The skeptics. I do pity the skeptics. They are living with only a portion of God’s love in their life, and they have no idea what they are missing.

But the world is so full of both God’s love and the Devil’s lies, that the skeptics don’t recognize which is which. Even the believers sometimes have trouble discerning the difference, myself included.

I am not a skeptic. I’m a believer, a believer in God, and in Jesus, his Son. I believe in showing love even when you don’t want to do so. I believe in not retorting to insults, because what good will it do? I believe in teaching kindness and respect. That’s right, respect. And obedience! I believe in God so loved the world that He gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believes in him will not perish but have everlasting life.

I believe in loving even the people I do not agree with. You will never see a person-bashing post on my Facebook wall.

I believe in humility, in acknowledging that I don’t have all the answers. Peace, goodness knows I believe in peace. When I am thinking clearly, I carefully choose each word I speak, always trying to promote peace. Unless I am in stress-ball mode, when I do not at all do what I want to do, but instead I do the complete opposite.

But I believe that with God’s help, I can improve! I believe all people can improve.

My grandma wrote this poem. I love it. It applies perfectly to the theme of my past year and a half in California: Trusting God, when you’ve reached the end of yourself. There are problems too big for me to fix. All I can do is show love. Let God take care of the rest.



Keep me humble, oh Lord.

Keep me humble as a little child.

Never let me forget

You were with me while

I had many burdens

That alone I couldn’t bear;

You were ever beside me

Guiding me with Your care.


Never let me take credit

For any deed You have done.

Never let me think that alone

Any battle I have won.

Always walk beside me

As through life I go;

And somehow through me

Please let Your glory show.

by BHK


We wish you a merry Christmas!! I just stuck my head out the door and subjected the neighbor boys to a 5 minute lecture/lesson on scooter safety. Haha!!  I love being old!






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