I can feel it -- it's going to go too fast. It's already going too fast. But I'm just trying to enjoy it. Something has clicked in me this year. It's only taken me eleven years, but I'm doing better this year than ever before at detaching from "my" stuff to play more with my kids. I'm a slow learner, I know. But it has given me hope that maybe I can get even better over the next eleven years in savoring the time I have with them while they are still under our roof.
So, if the whole get-on-the-floor-and-play-with-your-kids thing doesn't come naturally for you, either, I hope this can give you hope, too. ;)
Here are some of my favorite memories so far.
- The end-of-school party with #3 and her friends. (#1 and #2 were on a trip.)
- Sitting on the grass in the cool evening, cuddled on a blanket, reading. (We did that again tonight.) I love to close my eyes and listen to the birds and the breeze.
- Sitting around the table, or on the couch, or on the bed, laughing together. We tend to get a little silly around here.
- Going to a movie with #1 and #2 while #3 was on a trip with her dad. What made the memory fun was that I forgot my wallet, but #2 just happened to have hers, so she paid. (She also paid for the new shoes we got after the movie -- I'd forgotten that my wallet was MIA.) It was funny to watch her count out her money to bail out her mom's spaciness. I played it up a little, too, clinging to her and begging as we walked to the cash register: "Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeze will you buy it for me? Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeze?"
- Spending time with my girls sewing princess dresses. I'm not a seamstress at all, but they and their cousins came up with a new imaginary game and they wanted to make dresses. I figured it was a chance to try to teach them some basics while we spent some time together. (It was fun until I tried to tackle sleeves last night. Uh, ugh. Yeah, I guess they aren't the only ones learning. Ahem.)
- Playing tennis with my fam at sunset.
- Introducing the children to Icees (cheap treat -- a buck each at BK). (One child noted, quite astutely, that the first bite tasted like medicine but then it tastes good. Artificial schtuff doesn't taste as good as it did when I was a kid, that's for sure.)
- Family parties with out-of-town siblings in town!
- Surprising hubby with an amazing collage of photos of the kidlets for Father's Day. We had so much fun sneaking around, keeping that a secret. I have to say that I am regretting my no-photos-of-children policy about now. They are sooooooooooooooooo cute. (I'm such a mushy mom. I cried when I gave it to him.)
(Does anyone else struggle not to feel like they simply can't NOT use a photo from a photo shoot? Sheesh, these companies are smart. That free 8x10 sure ended up costing us, er, more than $0. Now we know why I don't do professional photos very often. But hello? Who's going to pay $120 for a digital copy of four photos?)
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Life is Uncertain. Carry a Leash.
We both noticed the dog at the same moment as we pulled into our driveway. I think the same thing was going through our minds, too. "Who's dog is that?" with a simultaneous "I hope it doesn't poop on our lawn!"
(We don't have a dog for a reason. For THAT reason. I paid my poop dues with diapers, thankyouverymuch.)
It was clear that this dog had no other place it wanted to go. She looked at us, wagging her tail in anticipation of our exit from our vehicle. She even sat, patiently, while we sat in the car, giggling at the playfulness on her face and being able to easily see where this was going.
Sure enough, when hubby opened the door of the car, she was by his side in a matter of a second or two.
(All I could think about was how we inherited a cat when I was a kid, all by being too nice to it.)
I noticed the dog had a tag. Hubby called both numbers. No dice. The address put her as being well over two dozen blocks away from her home, if that was, indeed, her home.
There was only one way to find out. I wasn't about to leave the dog to wander off and get lost (or to poop on my lawn, thankyouverymuch). She was awfully cute, after all. (Were I to ever get a dog, I'd like one like this one.)
I called her to me and led her to the car. (Hubby's car, of course. Less cubic footage in which potential dog damage could be done. He wasn't so sure he liked that idea.)
Let me just tell you that that two dozen+ blocks was quite the adventure. She was all over the place -- on my lap, on the seat, licking my face, bumping her head on the windshield, sticking her head out the window.
As she whimpered, I worried. Is she trained? Am I going to regret not bringing a towel? Am I going to get a ticket for driving a bit like a drunk person as this animal was jumping all over me?
I was relieved to get to the address on the tag, although by this time I was beginning to wonder if I'd really made a mistake by bringing her.
I knocked. Again, no dice, although there was clearly another animal inside. Right after I decided I needed to let her down to, er, take a break in the grassy area between apartment buildings, a man came out with his three chihuahuas. Grrrrrrrrrr. Little dogs were growling and snipping and pouncing, and I was panicking. "I'm sorry," I explained. "This isn't my dog...I'm trying to find the owner." Fortunately, his dogs were on a leash and he did all he could to reign them in so he could take them in.
By this time, the dog had turned the corner on the neighboring building. I had visions of trying to explain to the owners that I had found and then promptly lost their dog....
"Can you help me get that dog?" I cried out to a tenant of that building, explaining again the fact that she wasn't mine.
"Do you need a leash?" I felt like I could have cried with gratitude.
Long story short...I finally found a neighbor home, who agreed to keep the dog and put a note on the owner's door.
By the time I got home, the owner had called my hubby's cell phone back. And I had the humorous experience of telling the tale to my neighbors. As it turned out, the suspicion that crept into my head as I drove to the apartments was true...
...It was my neighbor's son's dog who had gotten out while they were at dinner.
(Well, at least they know I care, right?)
(We don't have a dog for a reason. For THAT reason. I paid my poop dues with diapers, thankyouverymuch.)
It was clear that this dog had no other place it wanted to go. She looked at us, wagging her tail in anticipation of our exit from our vehicle. She even sat, patiently, while we sat in the car, giggling at the playfulness on her face and being able to easily see where this was going.
Sure enough, when hubby opened the door of the car, she was by his side in a matter of a second or two.
(All I could think about was how we inherited a cat when I was a kid, all by being too nice to it.)
I noticed the dog had a tag. Hubby called both numbers. No dice. The address put her as being well over two dozen blocks away from her home, if that was, indeed, her home.
There was only one way to find out. I wasn't about to leave the dog to wander off and get lost (or to poop on my lawn, thankyouverymuch). She was awfully cute, after all. (Were I to ever get a dog, I'd like one like this one.)
I called her to me and led her to the car. (Hubby's car, of course. Less cubic footage in which potential dog damage could be done. He wasn't so sure he liked that idea.)
Let me just tell you that that two dozen+ blocks was quite the adventure. She was all over the place -- on my lap, on the seat, licking my face, bumping her head on the windshield, sticking her head out the window.
As she whimpered, I worried. Is she trained? Am I going to regret not bringing a towel? Am I going to get a ticket for driving a bit like a drunk person as this animal was jumping all over me?
I was relieved to get to the address on the tag, although by this time I was beginning to wonder if I'd really made a mistake by bringing her.
I knocked. Again, no dice, although there was clearly another animal inside. Right after I decided I needed to let her down to, er, take a break in the grassy area between apartment buildings, a man came out with his three chihuahuas. Grrrrrrrrrr. Little dogs were growling and snipping and pouncing, and I was panicking. "I'm sorry," I explained. "This isn't my dog...I'm trying to find the owner." Fortunately, his dogs were on a leash and he did all he could to reign them in so he could take them in.
By this time, the dog had turned the corner on the neighboring building. I had visions of trying to explain to the owners that I had found and then promptly lost their dog....
"Can you help me get that dog?" I cried out to a tenant of that building, explaining again the fact that she wasn't mine.
"Do you need a leash?" I felt like I could have cried with gratitude.
Long story short...I finally found a neighbor home, who agreed to keep the dog and put a note on the owner's door.
By the time I got home, the owner had called my hubby's cell phone back. And I had the humorous experience of telling the tale to my neighbors. As it turned out, the suspicion that crept into my head as I drove to the apartments was true...
...It was my neighbor's son's dog who had gotten out while they were at dinner.
(Well, at least they know I care, right?)
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Stop the race! I want to get off the track!
We usually talk about the rat race in terms of business or the crazy, money-making world out there.
But gollygeewhittakers [or is it willakers?], it actually really frustratingly (adverb attack was annoyingly deliberate; I'm feeling off tonite) creeps into the realm of motherhood. AND I HATE IT.
I know in my heart of hearts that motherhood is not a good place to be playing comparison games, but sheesh. Try telling that to my brain.
And then summer adds a whole new dimension, because now children are home! Now is when you really show your momma stuff! (Maybe summer is a good time to avoid reading others' blogs. When you sleep half your day away, you're not going to be able to pull off much of that Fun Momma Stuff. Meh.)
I have to keep reminding myself that there is more to my mothering than just how Fun I may (or may not) be. And I'm not knocking Fun, either. I just need to figure out how not to care so much about what I can't do (or even just what I'm not doing) and just let myself be me and let our life be what it is. To figure out what for me, for us, is good (best?) and right.
As I talked to a friend about this today, a thought I had is that learning to discern what is right for your particular situation is a key part of the journey. And trying to sort through that in the role of mother is some serious soul work.
Just more evidence that motherhood isn't just about the growth of the children.
Whew.
˙ʍou uǝbʎxo ןɐnʇıɹıds ǝɯos ɟןǝsʎɯ buıʌıb :ʇdıɹɔsʇsod*
But gollygeewhittakers [or is it willakers?], it actually really frustratingly (adverb attack was annoyingly deliberate; I'm feeling off tonite) creeps into the realm of motherhood. AND I HATE IT.
I know in my heart of hearts that motherhood is not a good place to be playing comparison games, but sheesh. Try telling that to my brain.
And then summer adds a whole new dimension, because now children are home! Now is when you really show your momma stuff! (Maybe summer is a good time to avoid reading others' blogs. When you sleep half your day away, you're not going to be able to pull off much of that Fun Momma Stuff. Meh.)
I have to keep reminding myself that there is more to my mothering than just how Fun I may (or may not) be. And I'm not knocking Fun, either. I just need to figure out how not to care so much about what I can't do (or even just what I'm not doing) and just let myself be me and let our life be what it is. To figure out what for me, for us, is good (best?) and right.
As I talked to a friend about this today, a thought I had is that learning to discern what is right for your particular situation is a key part of the journey. And trying to sort through that in the role of mother is some serious soul work.
Just more evidence that motherhood isn't just about the growth of the children.
Whew.
˙ʍou uǝbʎxo ןɐnʇıɹıds ǝɯos ɟןǝsʎɯ buıʌıb :ʇdıɹɔsʇsod*
Friday, June 4, 2010
Spring Perfection
It was a simply stunning evening tonite. The clouds went on to the edge of the horizon in a beautiful pattern of puffs. The wind came in gusts strong enough to keep tennis balls rolling in perpetual motion on the court, but not so strong that we couldn't enjoy some great volleys.
I haven't been on a court for probably a year, and didn't realize how much I missed it until I was out there.Wow, I love that sport.
And headache notwithstanding, it was as if a bit of life was breathed into me by that wind. I couldn't resist just stopping occasionally to breathe in the marvelous spring air. I even did a few slow twirls, with my arms fully extended, Julie Andrews style.
For me, I dare say there is nothing better than a gorgeous spring evening, the chance to play tennis, and priceless time with my precious family.
It was the picture of perfection. Too bad I didn't have my camera.
I haven't been on a court for probably a year, and didn't realize how much I missed it until I was out there.Wow, I love that sport.
And headache notwithstanding, it was as if a bit of life was breathed into me by that wind. I couldn't resist just stopping occasionally to breathe in the marvelous spring air. I even did a few slow twirls, with my arms fully extended, Julie Andrews style.
For me, I dare say there is nothing better than a gorgeous spring evening, the chance to play tennis, and priceless time with my precious family.
It was the picture of perfection. Too bad I didn't have my camera.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
End of School Reflections (Ramblings?): Motherhood, Growth, the Atonement....
I really can't believe it's the end of another school year.
I measure my kids' growth not by birthdays, but by their progression in school, so this time of year is always a bittersweet time for me. I am so proud of them and the people they are becoming. By the end of the year, I'm so ready for them to be home and to have a break from the routine of homework and all.
But it's also a time when I come face-to-face with how fast they are growing. It's so cliché, that phrase, "They grow up so fast." But it's so. true.
Sometimes the reality of that cliché nearly takes my breath away. Sometimes it comes close to making me sick to my stomach, actually.
My children are close in age (all born within three years of each other). I love it. They are such good friends. Since we haven't been able to have more children due to my health, I try to just enjoy the unique fact that our children are all pretty close to the same stage of life, so that makes family activities really fun.
But guess what else it means? The empty nest thing will not be gradual. Even as I can't wait to see how they will continue in their path to becoming their own people (it's so fun watching them grow!), another part of me wants to scream: STOP! Slow down!
Each year, I think I savor, value, appreciate, understand motherhood more. While I know I still have lots of room to grow, I have been doing this long enough to see that there has been progress in my personal journey. I get it more and more. I'm less and less threatened by talks about the ideals surrounding motherhood, because I see that it's all a process, and the ideals are essential in the process. And anger at the ideals distract us from the real work and give the adversary power.
The Atonement works, people. It really does. And wow, if there is ever a place where the Atonement is needed, it's in the realm of parenthood. Growth is sometimes so imperceptible -- sometimes so much so that it makes me crazy -- but it is real. Grace is real. Walking by faith bears fruit.
Being a stay-at-home mom for me has been in large measure an act of faith. I am grateful I have the choice to do that, and realize not all women do have that choice. But you need to know that it's not necessarily been the natural choice for me.
But there is lots about seeking to be a follower of Christ that isn't natural. It's a process to learn to become like God. Just because we have a divine heritage and birthright, just because seeds of godliness are within us (and that is truth), doesn't mean that everything divine will come without effort and sacrifice. I think we sometimes forget that. I think women in particular forget that.
More and more, what motherhood means to me is finding more of the divine within me through obedience and sacrifice. No, better said, it's having God reveal more and more of the divine within me -- and in this role -- through His grace.
And every year, at the end of school, I get to reflect on all of that. It both pains me to realize how fast they are growing and how much I still need to grow, and also excites me to see how we are all growing up together.
I love being a mother.
I measure my kids' growth not by birthdays, but by their progression in school, so this time of year is always a bittersweet time for me. I am so proud of them and the people they are becoming. By the end of the year, I'm so ready for them to be home and to have a break from the routine of homework and all.
But it's also a time when I come face-to-face with how fast they are growing. It's so cliché, that phrase, "They grow up so fast." But it's so. true.
Sometimes the reality of that cliché nearly takes my breath away. Sometimes it comes close to making me sick to my stomach, actually.
My children are close in age (all born within three years of each other). I love it. They are such good friends. Since we haven't been able to have more children due to my health, I try to just enjoy the unique fact that our children are all pretty close to the same stage of life, so that makes family activities really fun.
But guess what else it means? The empty nest thing will not be gradual. Even as I can't wait to see how they will continue in their path to becoming their own people (it's so fun watching them grow!), another part of me wants to scream: STOP! Slow down!
Each year, I think I savor, value, appreciate, understand motherhood more. While I know I still have lots of room to grow, I have been doing this long enough to see that there has been progress in my personal journey. I get it more and more. I'm less and less threatened by talks about the ideals surrounding motherhood, because I see that it's all a process, and the ideals are essential in the process. And anger at the ideals distract us from the real work and give the adversary power.
The Atonement works, people. It really does. And wow, if there is ever a place where the Atonement is needed, it's in the realm of parenthood. Growth is sometimes so imperceptible -- sometimes so much so that it makes me crazy -- but it is real. Grace is real. Walking by faith bears fruit.
Being a stay-at-home mom for me has been in large measure an act of faith. I am grateful I have the choice to do that, and realize not all women do have that choice. But you need to know that it's not necessarily been the natural choice for me.
But there is lots about seeking to be a follower of Christ that isn't natural. It's a process to learn to become like God. Just because we have a divine heritage and birthright, just because seeds of godliness are within us (and that is truth), doesn't mean that everything divine will come without effort and sacrifice. I think we sometimes forget that. I think women in particular forget that.
More and more, what motherhood means to me is finding more of the divine within me through obedience and sacrifice. No, better said, it's having God reveal more and more of the divine within me -- and in this role -- through His grace.
And every year, at the end of school, I get to reflect on all of that. It both pains me to realize how fast they are growing and how much I still need to grow, and also excites me to see how we are all growing up together.
I love being a mother.
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Migraine Madness
Migraines make me feel a little crazy. Like maybe I'm going to lose it.
But I realized tonite that I tend to pray more when I have migraines, or at least think about praying.
It's pathetic, but true.
I'm trying to be positive here. There has to be a silver lining in the pain, right?
But I realized tonite that I tend to pray more when I have migraines, or at least think about praying.
It's pathetic, but true.
I'm trying to be positive here. There has to be a silver lining in the pain, right?
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Garage Sale = Miracles
It started off as a lousy day, really. I had a hard time falling asleep (above and beyond the usual -- I didn't drift off until the sun had awakened. Zonk.)
When I woke up a few hours later, I knew I couldn't help with the garage sale. I needed sleep...again above and beyond my usual needs; I was still dealing with the remnants of the icky sinus/bronchial infection I'd had. And so, for the second week in a row, I wasn't going to be there with my kids, helping with their fundraiser.
As usual, my husband was kind and supportive. "Don't you worry about it. You get back to sleep."
I woke up after the 2 p.m. finish time. I was curious to see how they did, so I went over to the neighbor's garage. (Oh, my neighbor. She's one of my living angels. Seriously. I'll need to write more about her sometime.)
My mind immediately started thinking about trying to sell some of the stuff on Craigslist or something. That futon would likely make someone happy -- I mean, it seemed to me to be a steal at $25.
And then I thought, "Hmmmmm. Maybe we could buy it." Wheels started turning.
Long story short, with the help of home teacher and a family friend, we miraculously got it down our bendy staircase. We put it in what had been a craft room for the kids and created a bedroom for #1. He is more than thrilled.
That means #2 and #3 also have their own bedrooms now, too.
(And so does dh. Due to my major sleeping and health issues and his major snoring issues, we don't sleep in the same space. Sad, but true. For the past several years, he's been sharing a room with #1. Now he's got his own space downstairs. He's by ds, so I can worry less. ds still has a parent close. And dh is pretty happy to have a place (old craft table now in the middle of the not-huge room) to spread out all his books. Which means they aren't on the kitchen table anymore. Ahem.)
Anyway, I could never have imagined what this would do for our family and for my mothering, but I feel God knew. He knew what I needed and what they needed. (And He was so frugal about it, which makes me nearly giddy and, of course, deeply grateful.)
I feel He has helped compensate for things I cannot do very well as a mom, such as teaching them in focused ways how to clean and organize. I have felt much guilt about my weakness in this area, which is only compounded exponentially by the chronic illness issues which have plagued me for years. I can't fully capture here what it has felt like to watch my children suddenly have a stewardship, a place to order and organize and call their own, but it has been a spiritual thing to see something beyond myself happening. Divine intervention came in a wholly unexpected way, compensating for my mortal weakness in this role that matters so much (and where my weakness pains me so much).
Things just clicked. Without being able to anticipate this happening, each child now has a desk (I dare say homework has been more fun for them the past few days) and a CD player (one of those was also a garage sale find, one was a Christmas present from grandparents, one had already been in the girls' room). Should I confess that neither dh nor I knew that #1 loves classical music? He's been listening to it pretty much nonstop when in his room. He's never listened to it before. I have always hoped my children would resonate with uplifting music. Now they each have the means to do that in their own way, without having to answer to a sibling. (Having children so close together is such a blessing, but does have its challenges, and this has really helped with many of those. Just like that.)
Another tender mercy element of this that I'll capture here corresponds to recent inspiration (you know it's inspiration when it just works) to have #3 get herself to bed earlier than the other two (bedtime has been another challenge with three so close together). Now there is no need for #2 to tiptoe in or sleep on the floor in "the boys'" room.
And now, every night, my favorite ritual has even more meaning because it's truly one-on-one. I get to tuck them in and cuddle and chat in more personal ways, in their own little world. They are at an age where that personal space really means something, and being allowed in that space to help them end their day is sacred time to me.
As I stood in my kitchen eating a midnight snack tonite, I saw this on my pantry door, and it really says it all.
Believe it. Look for it. See it. And be amazed.
I sure am.
When I woke up a few hours later, I knew I couldn't help with the garage sale. I needed sleep...again above and beyond my usual needs; I was still dealing with the remnants of the icky sinus/bronchial infection I'd had. And so, for the second week in a row, I wasn't going to be there with my kids, helping with their fundraiser.
As usual, my husband was kind and supportive. "Don't you worry about it. You get back to sleep."
I woke up after the 2 p.m. finish time. I was curious to see how they did, so I went over to the neighbor's garage. (Oh, my neighbor. She's one of my living angels. Seriously. I'll need to write more about her sometime.)
My mind immediately started thinking about trying to sell some of the stuff on Craigslist or something. That futon would likely make someone happy -- I mean, it seemed to me to be a steal at $25.
And then I thought, "Hmmmmm. Maybe we could buy it." Wheels started turning.
Long story short, with the help of home teacher and a family friend, we miraculously got it down our bendy staircase. We put it in what had been a craft room for the kids and created a bedroom for #1. He is more than thrilled.
That means #2 and #3 also have their own bedrooms now, too.
(And so does dh. Due to my major sleeping and health issues and his major snoring issues, we don't sleep in the same space. Sad, but true. For the past several years, he's been sharing a room with #1. Now he's got his own space downstairs. He's by ds, so I can worry less. ds still has a parent close. And dh is pretty happy to have a place (old craft table now in the middle of the not-huge room) to spread out all his books. Which means they aren't on the kitchen table anymore. Ahem.)
Anyway, I could never have imagined what this would do for our family and for my mothering, but I feel God knew. He knew what I needed and what they needed. (And He was so frugal about it, which makes me nearly giddy and, of course, deeply grateful.)
I feel He has helped compensate for things I cannot do very well as a mom, such as teaching them in focused ways how to clean and organize. I have felt much guilt about my weakness in this area, which is only compounded exponentially by the chronic illness issues which have plagued me for years. I can't fully capture here what it has felt like to watch my children suddenly have a stewardship, a place to order and organize and call their own, but it has been a spiritual thing to see something beyond myself happening. Divine intervention came in a wholly unexpected way, compensating for my mortal weakness in this role that matters so much (and where my weakness pains me so much).
Things just clicked. Without being able to anticipate this happening, each child now has a desk (I dare say homework has been more fun for them the past few days) and a CD player (one of those was also a garage sale find, one was a Christmas present from grandparents, one had already been in the girls' room). Should I confess that neither dh nor I knew that #1 loves classical music? He's been listening to it pretty much nonstop when in his room. He's never listened to it before. I have always hoped my children would resonate with uplifting music. Now they each have the means to do that in their own way, without having to answer to a sibling. (Having children so close together is such a blessing, but does have its challenges, and this has really helped with many of those. Just like that.)
Another tender mercy element of this that I'll capture here corresponds to recent inspiration (you know it's inspiration when it just works) to have #3 get herself to bed earlier than the other two (bedtime has been another challenge with three so close together). Now there is no need for #2 to tiptoe in or sleep on the floor in "the boys'" room.
And now, every night, my favorite ritual has even more meaning because it's truly one-on-one. I get to tuck them in and cuddle and chat in more personal ways, in their own little world. They are at an age where that personal space really means something, and being allowed in that space to help them end their day is sacred time to me.
As I stood in my kitchen eating a midnight snack tonite, I saw this on my pantry door, and it really says it all.
Believe it. Look for it. See it. And be amazed.
I sure am.
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