Are there voices in my head? Maybe I'm just tired.

I love to bake. Cake pops in lovely designs, cupcakes,cakes and now I am delving into the adventure of homemade ice cream. So when Amelia asked if she could have a little early birthday swim party with her girlfriends, I immediately pictured cake pops. Cake pops in the shape of beach balls! Wow, how cute would that be? Then, I could crush up graham crackers so they would be sitting in the sand. Sounds great, right?
Well, lately I've been having some "issues" with things that aren't turning out the way they used to, or should. My ice cream hasn't been freezing, and the cake pops which I decided to do the night before (thank God) stuck to the cake plate so bad that when I tried to pick it up the stick came out. Forget serving this stupid non-beach ball mess to these girls. So it's 10:30 pm and I am standing in my kitchen deciding what to do. Literally, I was singing the Yo Gabba Gabba song to myself "Don't give up, never give up, keep trying" whoa Nelly, DJ Lance is not a voice you want playing in a loop in your head before you fall asleep." Wait a minute, wait a second" (please someone get these annoying voices out of my head! That one happens to be Fred)I just got that cool book from the library two days ago! The one with all the great techniques for making great cakes, the one that will make your kids love you and friends wonder just hoooow you do it. I look at the clock. 10:45! I'm tired. I start to argue with myself. Let me just start a cake from scratch. No! Go to bed! But what? A STORE BOUGHT CAKE?? Oh, the horror! "No!!" (Darth Vader here). I decide that the voices telling me to go to bed are going to win, there will be a store bought cake, and it's ok, she'll love me anyway.

Sharpening arrows, keeping the bow strong.

Being a parent is hard!
I wish someone had told me how hard it would be. It's just amazing that one day,that baby that you were cuddling through the long, dreary nights would grow up and test, test, test your last nerve.
That's thier job, I guess.
And the ache you felt when they couldn't sleep, or scraped a knee, would change from that to an ache you feel deep in your heart when they disobey. When they lie, or when they sneak something. That ache comes from having to punish them, to give them consequences that match the actions. You know you have to do it. You know that in order to raise this child to be the father, husband, and man of God you want him to be, it has to be done. You know it's not going to really kill him, but to him it feels like it. And because of that, it will kill you. It's so much easier to look away, to pretend like you didn't see. It's so much easier to keep EVERYONE involved happy.
But we do it. Because we love them. Because too, that in order for them to be happy in the future, you must correct it now. Better to be a little unhappy now, then to not teach and correct which will lead to bigger problems later.

So we trudge on. We sharpen our arrows and reinforce our bows so that we can launch them into the future sharp and ready for what will come their way when we aren't able to kiss their boo-boos anymmore.