Not so Mother’s Day

I know I’ve been gone forever, and I’ve written 80 FASCINATING posts in my head. But for now I just wanted to repost the one I wrote last year. I was given the opportunity to preach at our church on Mother’s Day. I was thrilled! Because I know what it’s like to dread Mother’s Day. And I know what it’s like to dread walking into church. If you have ever just wanted to crawl into bed and stay there on this particular day, I want to share this with you.

This is the message I gave at my church on Mother’s Day in 2012, which I first published here May 23, 2012.

The following is an edit of the message I gave at our church on Mother’s Day. I’ve just edited it up a bit so it make more sense outside of our church. I hope if you were hurting this past Mother’s Day, or are hurting today, that you find something in it to ease that pain. God loves you.

 

Last year on Mother’s Day, I remember our pastor saying he didn’t like to preach on Mother’s Day. I completely understood right away. And right away I thought, “I’ll do it next year.” And then I said and did nothing about it for about 9 ½ months. Back in February, we got into a conversation that led him to say, “I’d really like a woman to speak at our church sometime.” And I suddenly heard myself respond, “I’ll do Mother’s Day!” Because I am nothing, if not restrained. Then I started kicking myself, because I’ve never written a sermon or message. And Mother’s Day is a big deal to a lot of people. Basically, it sounded like a great idea until I’d actually volunteered for it. But there’s a group of people that have been on my heart for a really, really long time, and I want to talk to them today. While I’m definitely a little more comfortable behind a music stand here at Point, this is a message that’s been on my heart for around 10 years.

What I understood about not liking to preach on Mother’s Day is that it isn’t sunshine and roses for everyone. Mother’s Day can be a beautiful day. It can be full of love and honor. For example, I’m hoping not to cook at all today. *ahem* But Mother’s Day can also be full of hurt. Maybe your mother wasn’t around. Maybe not being around would have been better than the parenting you received. Maybe you lost your mother. Long ago. Recently. Maybe your mother continues to hurt you, whether she means to or not. Then there are mothers who have lost a child. A miscarriage, or as an adult. Maybe it’s just the relationship that’s lost. Step-mothers. Women who want to be a mother, but can’t be. What if you just have no desire to be a mother? Whatever the situation might be, if it doesn’t fit our Hallmark mold of Mother’s Day, it can make the day terribly difficult. And sometimes, when you’re in one of those situations, church is the very last place you want to be. I get that. In 2002 I sat in the back of a church, looking at all the mothers with their corsages. I listened to the praise for everything they do. I looked around as they all stood and we all clapped. And I felt so completely alone in that very full church on that day. I wished I’d stayed home.

Some days when I look at the heaps of toys and socks on the floor and the half-eaten poptarts on the counter, it’s hard to remember that before my three girls showed up I spent what felt like a long time wondering if I would be able to be a mother. Compared to many, my wait was short. I was just starting fertility drugs around that Mother’s Day 10 years ago. Instead of feeling full of hope, I was bracing myself for the worst. It’s certainly not the fault of happy mothers or of churches that I felt so alone that day. But it made me very sensitive that a lot of people will smile and say “Good Morning” while they hold the hurt inside.

On the other hand, I also remember being at a church on Mother’s Day back in college. I wasn’t thinking about being a mother yet, and I wasn’t there with my mother. Even then the day made me feel a little bit like an outsider. I remember them asking all the mothers to stand. And then they asked all the aunts to stand. Sunday School teachers. It went on until every woman was standing. I loved that! Because I truly believe that whether you have a child or not, you can play a mothering role – and you probably do.

It’s been a long time since I had that feeling of being an outsider on a day like today, but I remember it very clearly. Every year, my heart just aches for anyone who might be feeling the same thing or something similar. That time of my life changed me. I’ve always been a talker – a sharer. I will very likely give you my life story after running into you in an aisle at Target. It’s because I’ve always felt like if there’s something I’ve gone through that can help someone else, then I want to help. I know how different it is to talk to someone who’s been down the same road you have. There’s a different level of comfort and understanding there. Besides, if I can help someone else even a little bit through something I’ve experienced, then that brings some good out of it as well.

I’m not going to be telling you how to mother God’s way, or how to be the ideal mom. First off, I wouldn’t consider myself a credible source. Second, I’d like to talk to more than just the moms. So I just want to share a few lessons I’ve learned on the way. A few of my lightbulb moments.

I have a house full of girls. Ella is almost 9, Natalie is 7, and Zoey is 20 months. Which means I also have a house full of feelings. If you know anything about little girls, you know there’s on occasion – DRAMA. With the older two being so close in age, they are the best of friends and the worst of enemies. There are often big feelings over something that maybe isn’t that big of a deal in my eyes. It’s huge and life altering to them, but not to me. Their scope is small. I know they’re making more of it than they need to. I can see a bigger picture. I have more experience than them. I’ve been through it before. Sometimes it really hits me – so has God. He is the Alpha and Omega. Beginning and end. Not only was He there at the beginning, then he sent Jesus to live on the earth. God may have seen everything since time began, but he also walked on this earth. He’s lived here, human, just like us.

My kids often think they know what’s best for them. They argue with me. They negotiate. If Ella doesn’t support us in the lifestyle to which we wish to become accustomed with her litigation skills – I will be very surprised. My kids fight what I’ve asked them to do, or more likely, what I’ve told them they can’t do. But like I said, I see a bigger picture. I’m parenting based on my own experiences. It’s about passing on to them the information I’ve collected over time. There are lessons I hope they learn from just my words. The stove is hot, don’t touch it. But sometimes they still do. How often do I do that with God? How often does He tell me what’s best, but I think my way is better for me? Or how often do I think it’s not a big deal if I listen when it really is?

I remember when Ella was really little. She had a box full of markers with the caps on. She kept trying to stack them end to end to touch the ceiling. But about halfway, it would always fall over. The markers weren’t a tight enough fit to stack that high. They weren’t all the same kind. She was getting really frustrated. I told her I didn’t think it was going to work – they were going to fall every time. Markers aren’t made to be stacked to the ceiling – that’s not what they’re for. They’re for drawing. Making beautiful pictures. If she’d listened to me, I could have saved her the heartache. But she kept going until she finally figured it out the hard way. I can be that way, too. How often does God hand me some pieces, and instead of waiting for instructions I run off doing my own thing with them? Determined to make it work by myself? I ignore his nudging. I don’t sit and listen to what he’d wanted. I learn the hard way.

Some of my favorite Bible studies I’ve gone through are by Chip Ingram. They’re full of things that stick in my head, and come back later when I need them. In one of them, he tells a story about a time of life while he was in seminary where he was at the end of his emotional rope. He was spread too thin. Overwhelmed. He said, “If this is what you get when you follow Christ with all your heart, maybe it’s time to check out of the Christian life – at least the ministry part of it.” Then one of his theology professors said, “Students, the wisdom of God tells us that God will bring about the best possible results, by the best possible means, for the most possible people, for the longest possible time.” Those words changed the most important thing for Chip – his perspective. He suddenly understood that if there was a better way, that’s what he’d be going through. But he had to trust that this WAS the best way. I want to say that sentence one more time, slowly, because it has been in the back of my head for years. The wisdom of God tells us that God will bring about the best possible results, by the best possible means, for the most possible people, for the longest possible time.

It says in Romans 11:33-36:  Oh, how great are God’s riches and wisdom and knowledge! How impossible it is for us to understand his decisions and his ways! For who can know the Lord’s thoughts? Who knows enough to give him advice? And who has given him so much that he needs to pay it back? For everything comes from him and exists by his power and is intended for his glory. All glory to him forever! Amen.

How great is His wisdom. How great is His knowledge. He is seeing a bigger picture than me. Who can know the Lord’s thoughts? Who knows enough to give him advice? Why do I spend so much time telling God how things should be?

So I’ve learned a lot of lessons while parenting. Those are just a few of them. But I’ve also learned a lot about the nature of God. I’ve learned something about how God must feel about me. I know how precious each one of my kids is to me. I know how much I love them. How I love each one of them differently. How even though I can get upset at something they do, I still love them so much.

Sometimes your child does something you asked them not to do. Sometimes they do something they know is probably wrong, but you never specifically said not to do it. A few days ago on a warm day, one of the girls asked if she could put on a swimsuit and get in the neighbor’s kiddie pool. It was almost time to get ready for dinner, so I said no. She went back outside. A few minutes later she came back in. “Is it ok if we’re putting our feet in the water?” Huh. Meaning you did already, and you’d like to know if that was wrong? It’s easy to get hung up on details and forget the point. The point was stay out of the water. Me just saying no swimsuits, not feet is a detail. This is how I’ve come to feel about when the Pharisees asked Jesus about the greatest commandment. Matthew 22: 34-40, “Hearing that Jesus had silenced the Sadducees, the Pharisees got together. One of them, an expert in the law, tested him with this question: “Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?” Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.” The point is, love God first with everything you are, and then love your neighbor. I think sometimes we get too hung up on details. If we were truly living our lives with God at the center, I feel like everything else would fall into place. We wouldn’t worry about technicalities of whether the Bible implies something or says it specifically, because the Lord would be at the heart of everything we did and thought. I’m not saying the rest of the Bible is irrelevant – far from it. If we take it as a whole, it helps us understand the nature of God. But everything hangs on the command to love the Lord your God with all your heart and soul and mind. Love your neighbor as yourself.

I’ve also learned what it’s like to watch my child hurt, and how it makes me feel. When one of my girls is truly hurting, there isn’t a worse feeling. I may want to fix whatever it is – but sometimes that isn’t for the best. Sometimes it’s something that can’t be fixed. Sometimes the only thing I can do is hold them, and whisper something reassuring while my own heart hurts for them.

That’s not something we grow out of. We all experience hurt. Lost jobs. Broken relationships. Sickness and disease. Bills we can’t pay. Feeling trapped in sin. Misunderstandings. All kinds of hurts. Even as – I hope – a semi-decent mother – I’m not always there for my child. I don’t always make the right choice. I do the best I can, and I love my kids like crazy – but God loves them more. God is a better parent than any parent you have ever known. Maybe in your experience that isn’t saying much – so I’ll reword it this way: God is the perfect parent. I believe God holds us if we let him. I believe he whispers words of comfort. David wrote in Psalm 56, “Record my misery; list my tears on your scroll— are they not in your record? Then my enemies will turn back when I call for help. By this I will know that God is for me.”

God is for you. He has taken note of every tear. If you’ve genuinely asked, he’s forgiven you. Jeremiah 31 says “I will forgive their wickedness, I will remember their sins no more.” He forgives, and he forgets. I forgive my children all the time, but as humans, it’s difficult to forget. Our God is for you. In Psalm 30:5 it says, “Weeping may last for the night, but joy comes in the morning.” I love that verse. Whatever hurt I experience is temporary. Joy WILL come. Maybe not when I want it to, or the way I want it to, but it WILL come. There will be joy.

It may be hard to tell I had a point in all of this rambling. But it’s a pretty basic one. God loves you. No matter what you’re feeling today, God loves you. You are his child. He loves you more than anyone has ever loved you, and more than any person ever could. I want to end with the first half of John chapter 10. Because it holds the truth I want you to take from here today. It’s the parable of the Good Shepherd and his sheep. This is Jesus talking.

“I tell you the truth, anyone who sneaks over the wall of a sheepfold, rather than going through the gate, must surely be a thief and a robber! But the one who enters through the gate is the shepherd of the sheep.  The gatekeeper opens the gate for him, and the sheep recognize his voice and come to him. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. After he has gathered his own flock, he walks ahead of them, and they follow him because they know his voice.  They won’t follow a stranger; they will run from him because they don’t know his voice.”
Those who heard Jesus use this illustration didn’t understand what he meant, so he explained it to them: “I tell you the truth, I am the gate for the sheep.  All who came before me were thieves and robbers. But the true sheep did not listen to them.  Yes, I am the gate. Those who come in through me will be saved. They will come and go freely and will find good pastures.  The thief’s purpose is to steal and kill and destroy. My purpose is to give them a rich and satisfying life.
“I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd sacrifices his life for the sheep. A hired hand will run when he sees a wolf coming. He will abandon the sheep because they don’t belong to him and he isn’t their shepherd. And so the wolf attacks them and scatters the flock. The hired hand runs away because he’s working only for the money and doesn’t really care about the sheep.
“I am the good shepherd; I know my own sheep, and they know me,  just as my Father knows me and I know the Father. So I sacrifice my life for the sheep.  I have other sheep, too, that are not in this sheepfold. I must bring them also. They will listen to my voice, and there will be one flock with one shepherd.
“The Father loves me because I sacrifice my life so I may take it back again. No one can take my life from me. I sacrifice it voluntarily. For I have the authority to lay it down when I want to and also to take it up again. For this is what my Father has commanded.”

I love how Jesus says he knows his own sheep. That he calls them by name. Sometimes I need a reminder that my relationship with Jesus is personal. It’s not just some contractual agreement that I will do my best to follow his commands, and in turn I will be saved from hell. It’s personal. God knows me. He knows my heart. He knows my hurts. He cares for me. Just like I love the uniqueness of each of my girls – God loves me in a unique way.

Sheep are pretty easily led astray. They need guidance. I’ve gotten an even better glimpse of this lately with my toddler. Everyday feels like a series of close calls. I let her walk, but she needs to hold my hand. I want to guide her in the right direction, and keep her out of the street. She doesn’t know what it is, but I do.   

We are God’s sheep. We are his children. God gave up his only son for us. For you. Sometimes I get stuck thinking of it in terms of Jesus dying for the sins of the world. That’s true. But we can also say that he gave his life for yours. Your life -my life – was more important to him than his own. God’s wisdom meant that the sacrifice of Jesus brings about the best possible results, by the best possible means, for the most possible people, for the longest possible time. Forever. Eternal life. For you and for me. He calls his sheep by name. He called me by name. He called you by name. When you wander off he misses you – he calls you by name. He wants to bring you safely back to the sheepfold. God is for you. No matter what you might be going through today, no matter what hurts you might have. He is for you. He holds you close. He offers joy in the morning. He knows you. And he loves you.

March 23

For 10 years now, March 23 has been the due date of my first baby. I had only gotten the date put in my head a couple weeks before I miscarried at 6 weeks, in August of 2002. But not a March 23 has gone by since that I haven’t thought about it.

Now, can we all just agree that saying things like “God has a plan” or “Everything happens for a reason” might break the uncomfortable silence as we talk to the bereaved, but it has not once in the history of the world made someone actually feel better in that moment? I fully believe in the wisdom of God. Now, 10 years later, I can see that there might have been a reason. But in that moment, there is nothing you can say to make it ok. Just say you are so very sorry. Don’t reduce my suffering and loss to a cross stitch sampler. Let’s just take “everything happens for a reason” off the table, ok? Even if there’s truth in it, it doesn’t make it helpful.

In the interest of transparency, I don’t think a lot about seeing my baby in heaven. I’m sure if I’d known him or her longer, I might. And I suppose I believe I will. It’s just not something on my mind. I am so very lucky and blessed to have a consolation now. I was pregnant with Ella just a couple months after my miscarriage.

If everything had gone as I thought it would, I wouldn’t have Ella. Maybe I’d have my other girls, but I couldn’t have Ella. And that? Well, that’s even worse to think about. I think that’s why I remember Ella’s due date better than her birthday. For 9 months I was completely focused on making it closer and closer to that date. My experience is part of what has made me who I am. It gives me compassion and understanding for other women that I wouldn’t fully get otherwise. I wouldn’t say I’m “glad” for the experience, but I would say I accept it.

How much I think about that baby varies with time and circumstances. Sometimes it’s more raw than others. But I’m sure there will never be a March 23 that I don’t remember.

Spring

If you live south of the Mason-Dixon, perhaps you’re having Spring. For those of us in the upper midwest, Spring is still just a far off dream. We’re still cooking up snowstorms around here. The pile of snow is taller than the mailbox.

You may have learned that the seasons are as follows: Summer is June, July, August; Fall is September, October, November; Winter is December, January, February; and Spring is March, April, May. Maybe where you live that’s the case. Bully for you. Not here. We have so many seasons here. Summer might be June, July, August. Fall is more like September and October. November to mid-December is PreWinter. Expect snow any day. Especially in December, it’s going to start sticking around. Mid-December through February would be Winter. I hope you remember what grass looks like because you won’t see it for a LONG time. March and April are Late Winter. Still plenty of snowstorms to be had, usually worse than you’ve had yet. Spring is really only May here. And that doesn’t mean it still might not snow a little. Snow is possible at any given moment from October to May.

And that is what makes February and March the very worst months of all. Winter digs in its heels. Maybe on occasion you get a day in the 40s or 50s, and let me tell you, when that happens you put on flip flops. I am being 100% truthful when I tell you a week ago the temp rose all the way to 40 and I saw a man outside in a Hawaiian print shirt and cargo shorts. By February, I am worn out on Winter. I’ve had plenty of it. But there’s still so much to go. Smart people plan trips to warm climates in February and March. I am not smart. I would never have survived Winter in my sod hut as a prairie pioneer. I would have lost my mind that first early March as a blizzard blew across my farmland from the north. Because every year, even in my perfectly warm house with real windows and tv and computers to connect me to the outside world, there comes a day in late February when I say, “NOT ONE MORE DAY. I CANNOT HAVE ONE MORE DAY OF THIS.” Too much of a good thing is one issue, but what about too much of something you don’t even like to begin with?

With our multiple levels of Winter come some things that might seem strange to outsiders. I’m not just talking about ice fishing. Do you have a winter coat? My “Winter” coat is a puffy down number, and I wear it with lined leather mittens. I’ve got a wool pea coat for some days. I also have a lighter winter coat for Pre-Winter and Late Winter, and I can maybe get away with some kind of gloves with that. I have a warm spring jacket. I have a light spring jacket. I also rotate my closet more than twice a year. In late October I pull out the sweaters, but I’m not ready for the Real Sweaters. In late December, the really bulky wool sweaters come out, and I am happy to see them. In late February, early March, I want to burn the heavy sweaters and never see them ever again. For one thing, they take up an awful lot of room in my not-very-big closet. But I still need sweaters, because it’s cold. So I pack away the wool, and I get a little cold. But I don’t care, because I WILL NOT WEAR IT ONE MORE DAY. I WILL NOT. I keep the Smartwool socks out, though. Another thing I want to burn? My Emu boots. They’ve been a friend to me all Winter, but I am done. My toes are suffocating. Unfortunately, I am still wearing them because there’s still too much snow and ice to navigate. Shoes would be fine if I was ok with slush on my ankles. Cute shoes? Not happening. Cute shoes and ice with slush don’t mix.

This particular March, we are “enjoying” colder than average temps. Usually we’re in the 40s with occasional 50s. Last year we actually had some 80s in March, which was Global Warming at its finest. This year? Heck no. 30s. Piles of snow with layers of ice underneath and on top. It will never be warm again. Ever. Pretty Easter dresses? You won’t see them here. We might be wearing them, but it’s under a sweater so you can’t see it anyway.

Unfortunately, I don’t sweat so I’d never last living somewhere warm. I would just trade cold feet for heatstroke. I guess cold feet are probably better. And it is really pretty here, even under blankets of iced over snow.

Enjoy your Spring, Southern Friends. We’ll catch up to you in May or June. Meanwhile, let me know when you’re ready for me to visit!

Don’t miss it!

I’ll be back with an update of some sort soon. But meanwhile, my good friend Aimee over at Red Letter Ink is giving away 3 of her awesome 8×10 prints, and I didn’t want you to miss out on the chance to win. I don’t even get extra entries for blogging about it, I just love her artwork and wanted to share. Check out her Etsy shop while you’re there, because Aimee’s good people – in real life AND on the interwebs. Click away, and I hope you’re a winner (but only a little, because I hope I’m a winner)!

RTT: A day in the life

Random Tuesdays are my favorite. Because I live in the random. My entire weekdays are random. Take the girls to school. Come home. Let Zoey finish her breakfast. Start a job. Phone call – drop job and work on another one. Zoey wants more milk. Wait. Which job was I working on? I guess I’ll do this one. Must remember to put dinner in the crockpot. Finish a job – yay! Head for crockpot, phone call – nevermind the crockpot – work on third job. Zoey needs a new diaper. Zoey wants a book read to her. Make a cup of tea. Frantic string of emails! Get these three jobs done this morning! Zoey is crying and frustrated. Give her the crayons – but she doesn’t want the crayons – I have crayons! Give her the crayons. She doesn’t want crayons. I have crayons! Give her the crayons – now for some reason, it’s ok, she’s happy. Oh, thank you Mommy. One hour to go to get those jobs done, and then I have to get to the crockpot or it’s not going to happen. Halfway done on jobs – phone call from school counselor, do I have a minute to talk? Sure. Talk about girl drama (way too young if you ask me). Shoot, must finish those jobs right now. Smell awful smell – change diaper. Finish jobs. Remember tea left to steep 20 minutes ago. Drink it room temperature while working on original job of the morning. Read book to Zoey. Wait – remember laundry that I wrinkle released when I went to wake up Ella. Wrinkle release it again. Back to original job. Phone call – just one more change to job #3 of the day. Shoot! Zoey needs lunch before it’s naptime. Get lunch for Zoey. Finish job #3. Back to original job – finally finish. Change diaper, put Zoey down for nap. Laundry! Hope it’s still warm from the wrinkle release #2 – yes! – fold laundry after starting another load. Finish cold tea. Eat lunch while watching a delightful grownup tv show of some sort, to drown out Zoey. Start next oldest job – phone call – scrap that – need to create a catalog page like order form with 20 items by 4 pm! Will have to pick girls up at 3, so really this needs to be done before then. Zoey doesn’t really nap. Convince her to read books alone. Order form. Order form. Shoot! Crockpot – too late. No more books for Zoey – I watch Call Maybe? Not now – play babies? No! Play Little People? No! Move these cotton balls from one tupperware to another? Yes! Really? Because to me, that seems like the least fun choice. But hooray, she’s occupied! Order form. Order form. Order form done – phew! Must hurry to pick up older girls – wait – Zoey needs a diaper. Hurry, hurry! We’ll be late! Boots! Jackets. Mittens. Hats. Car seat. Try to find parking. Go into school. Say hi to office staff! Say hi to parents! Say hi to teachers! Get older girls, out to van, Zoey in car seat, check phone – voicemail. Quick change on order form! Hurry home! Make change – hurry! Activity for older girls starts at 4! Back to the car seat! Five minutes late. 55 minutes to waste. Not really enough time to go home. Target errands. Hurry! Back to pick up older girls! Head home. Homework, homework! Study spelling! Entertain Zoey! Oh no. Scrapped the dinner in the crockpot, so what now? Frozen pizza it is. Change diaper. Probably forgot something was on the bottom of the oven – smoke detector goes off. Fan smoke away. Eat dinner. Hurry! Showers! Bath! Jammies! Hide away for 20 minutes playing on iPad while girls rough house with Captain America. I don’t like to see all the almost injuries. And the laughter and screaming gets really loud. Someone cries – rough housing is over. Bedtime snacks! Brush teeth! GO TO BED! Hugs, kisses, prayers. Oh, hey. Forgot laundry from before lunch. Will have to dry it tomorrow, because the dryer bothers Ella when she’s trying to fall asleep. Run dishwasher. Make tea. Try to catch up on work. Glazing over. Remember tea, drink a little warmer than room temperature. Make sure homework is signed, start to pack lunches. Watch an hour of tv. Go to bed, because it will be just like that again tomorrow. Or worse.

More random at Stacy’s – check it out.

I’ve gone soft

It’s cold. I’m freezing. It’s not really that cold today – the high is actually 20 degrees. Although it feels like 11. But that’s not 0, so I don’t know what I’m complaining about. Except I don’t like to be cold.

I think the trouble was that I got out of the shower about 5 minutes before I had to take Ella & Natalie to school, and then Zoey and I went to the grocery store. With my wet hair. And no hat. I don’t know if you’ve ever had frozen hair before, but it’s tough to come back from. A rookie northern winter mistake made by this lifer. And while the temp isn’t in the negatives, it is still cold enough that the furnace seems to have a hard time keeping up. It’s been running constantly all day. Like it’s gotten behind.

I know what that feels like. Especially lately. The laundry is never caught up. Neither are the dishes. Neither is my work. It seems I never have that feeling of, “Ok, everything’s settled.” Most days if I have gotten a decent amount of work done, and Zoey has eaten AND had a few diaper changes, I feel pretty good. Even every time I’ve gone to the store recently I’ve come home and realized I’ve forgotten something. Or rather, some things.

I like the idea of hibernation. I would like to just hunker down and wait for spring. Curl up under some blankets and come out again when the lows are in the 40s.

But life seems to move on whether we’re ready or not. Kids still have school. Work still needs to be done. My family likes to eat dinner. Every single day. The clothes get dirty. And there is nothing in this world, NOTHING that reminds you of time moving on quite like a toddler. Every day is something new – whether good or bad. Mostly good, even if the bad sounds a little…louder.

I like a zoo, do you?

Natalie just asked me which one is the world’s largest zoo. She was trying to figure out where the most animals are in the world. Because she’s Natalie, and she is animal obsessed. She was pretty excited to learn she’s been there (at least according to Touropia) – it’s Henry Doorly Zoo in Omaha. Some are larger in terms of acreage, but Henry Doorly has the acreage + most species (962).

They’ve got the “largest” nearly everything. World’s largest indoor swamp. Largest geodesic dome. Largest indoor desert. World’s largest nocturnal exhibit. Largest cat complex. America’s largest indoor rainforest. Etc.

It’s also the nicest, most easy to navigate zoo we’ve visited. We were there on a sometimes rainy day, but we managed to spend the entire day there because there’s so much inside. And we still didn’t see everything. We didn’t even go near the IMAX, that was all just wandering around time. It would also be easy to still enjoy it when it’s hot. There’s just so much that’s climate controlled and indoors.

I enjoy a zoo very much, but they’re often exhausting. Huge school groups. Screaming, crying kids – sometimes yours, sometimes not. And if you’ve got a baby or toddler, it can be a real pain because they aren’t really designed for strollers (Brookfield Zoo – I’m looking at YOU). But I have to say, the Omaha Zoo was the most delightful zoo experience I’ve ever had. We went on an April day when the kids had some spring break. Zoey was around 6 months. We were able to take her stroller everywhere but inside the butterfly house. It’s so big, that we never felt like we were in a crowd. And sure, I was exhausted at the end of the day, but just because I’d been on my feet walking so much. Not because of lines and crowds and my own children having meltdowns. 

As a matter of fact, it’s a good six hours from where we are, but I can easily see us making the trip again. It’s worth it just for the zoo. Plus, our family of 5 could get in for under $50. I don’t know how they do it, but I’m glad they do.

And now you’ll have to excuse me while I try to figure out when I can get back to Omaha. Frankly, that’s not something I thought I’d ever say, yet there you have it.