The Grouch Queen Gets Lickin' on Mother's Day

(my cute little weeding helper-- I tried to retrieve a sun hat for her, but she wanted her winter hat!)

I don't know why (well, I do, I guess I'll get to that), but I was the grouch queen this weekend.

I decided to go on a cleaning rampage on Friday.   It involved cleaning and organizing to a greater degree than I've done in the last couple of years since baby was born.  It felt good.  It felt good until those first shoes walked on my clean floor (clean floors are extra precious around here, since they don't come often or easily!), until the first crumbs were dusted in a little Hansel and Gretel trail, until window smearings and suspicious sticky spots.  We cleaned out the older kids' closets, put winter clothes away (thank you K.J. Payne), and weeded like crazy on Saturday.  My husband and son went to help my parents move, so the girls and I were on our own for the weeding.  It was hot.  They got tired fast.  There were a ton of weeds.  I guess I had blocked them out a little too well.   We all got sweaty and dirty and tired.  I had to keep stopping to make sure the littlest boy hadn't run away or gotten himself elbow deep in the kitty litter (he thinks it's his sand box).  I totally bribed everyone with periodic treats (I have tried really hard not to use food as a reward, remember when I worked on that? but it went out the window Saturday).  When I pulled out some Gatorade for one of the "treats" (I was using some psychology here, since my little girl had been begging for it that morning), my little boy started saying "I want alligator."  I finally figured out what he meant!  Ha.  You know what, even though I was tired and grumpy, I really enjoyed several hours working together.  My kids had cycles of good helping and not, but it was fun to just be able to talk without trying to multi-task physically and mentally.  I especially enjoyed chatting with my 9 year-old, as she was the least distracted by things like the sprinkler, the cats, or the baby.

After some washer/dryer/fridge moving (we traded my parents washer/dryer), more frantic floor scrubbing after dirty men's shoes clomped about, helping my daughter finish her closet (she dumped her entire bottom-half closet contents in her room, which I helped her with in 5 minute intervals, returning to strain this old back as we hauled in the new washer, frantically wiped down the shoe prints again, then re-vacuumed my daughter's room).  I mean really, I thought, is it unreasonable to expect my house to stay clean for one day, just 24 hours?  Is that too much to ask?

I decided that trying to clean and then keep clean a house with lots of small children is like trying to pour water into a sieve and then drink it.  If you try hard enough, long enough, you're still not going to be able to drink out of it but you sure are going to be frustrated.

Another reason I was grumpy, I had a temporary crown fall out (it's ok, it was really bothering me).  I realized that I have a low tolerance for nagging, annoying pain (but I didn't scream when I gave birth naturally this last time, even though my husband claimed that I did almost bite him-- I wasn't really going to do it).  I also realized that I probably won't be getting braces soon like I had maybe hoped (ugly teeth, I did have braces for 4 years once!), as I don't want to feel so grumpy in the years when I am mom to some little ones who have to be around me all day. :)

Adding to sleep deprivation was a middle of the night visit by one of our cats (!).  Since they are outside cats it was kind of a shock to hear a meow outside my bedroom in the middle of the night.  They've also learned how to climb on our roof, and since we've slept with the windows open a couple of nights, they will meow outside our bedroom window (the one that got in must have gotten through the one window without a screen, I took it out to clean while on my cleaning rampage).

And, those extra baby pounds have been getting me down a little lately.  I just feel so...gross.  I really don't like to look in the mirror.  And, to add to it, I've had a few "fat" comments lately by well-meaning people.

On Mother's Day morning, I wasn't exactly in the best of moods.  I'd become a house nazi overnight, and it wasn't fun for any of us. :)

But the kids were so attentive, as usual, as attentive as little ones can be.  My middlest daughter was especially sweet, she was like the Mother's Day police, keeping everyone in line and apprised of what they should or should not be doing to make my day go well.

At church I was still grumpy when said middle daughter tried to follow me into the mothers room for a feeding (I was wearing a dress!  Fantastic!  But how was I expecting to nurse? lol).  I wasn't very nice, and I told her that for Mother's Day I just wanted her to go sit with the rest of the family.  I felt very badly as I watched her walk out a little deflated.  I'm still feeling badly about this.

Then we had a lesson on motherhood by a woman who doesn't consider herself a very good mother and who admitted that she hates Mother's Day (her reasons= guilt and expectations).  And you know what?  The lesson was fantastic, just what I needed to hear.  A lot of different women spoke up about what it is that motivates them as a mother, and how they keep things in perspective.  The power in the room was thick, it was palpable-- because there were so many great women in one place who really believed in motherhood, women who saw that the real powers of motherhood go way deeper than what you can see-- way deeper than a sink full of dirty dishes or an un-mopped floor, into the hearts and minds of little ones who will carry their mother's love for a lifetime.  Through good and bad.  I think mothers provide the roots, so to speak, of happiness.

Sometimes we get derailed on the little details of life and miss the big picture.  Did it really matter whether my floor stayed immaculate?  Or my little one followed me to the mothers room when she was supposed to be with the family?  I realized that one of the biggest things I need to remember is-- who I am.  I didn't start out thinking that motherhood was all about keeping my entry way floor mopped at all times or felt she had to look like a supermodel.  I started out fired up to be that warm, nurturing presence, the motivator, the listener, the teacher, the cheerleader.  I may not be perfect, but I am the person most uniquely suited to my kids needs.  I may not be a fantastic seamstress, or well-organized, or many things that other women are.  But I love my kids.  They are my life.  Literally.  I would give my life for them, and I do, every day.  That is what matters, loving them and being the best me I can be.  Sometimes I get thinking I have to be someone else, especially someone else who is cleaner with fewer weeds, and I forget to be me.  I can still clean and pull weeds (within reason!), but not lose who I am in the process.  That is what my kids want and need, the best version of me.  And even though I will never be perfect, I can keep on trying to be better, because it is love and effort that really matter in the end.

I have been in a little funk lately, I'm sure some of you have noticed or suspected.  :)  Mother's Day this year was just what I needed to remind me of why I am doing this.  Of the point of it all.  That what I do matters!  It really, really matters.  More than just about anything else on this entire planet.  My dishes will be here tomorrow, but tomorrow my child will be one day older and I can't get that back.

I was going to explain the lickin' reference, but I decided to refrain from blackening a certain childs name.  Someone had a very grand tantrum on Mother's Day, the other kids were quite aghast and solemn afterward.  But, fresh from a great Mother's Day lesson, I kept my cool and carried said offender to her room for a nice chance to think.

Growing Up

My little boy is growing up!  When did this happen?  He is almost as tall as I am now.  Thanks for indulging my little trip down memory lane, here, including, ug, some beauties with me in them (trying to "get in the picture!").  So glad I no longer own any scrunchies or garbage-bag-like maternity clothes.  I initially made a little slideshow, complete with a cheesy song, but it was way too long.  When I tried to show it to him, he kept asking when it was going to be over. :)  (The song I found to put on the slideshow makes me cry, its called You and Me by Frances England, you can listen to it on this video)

He has always been such a delight.  Such a happy, easy going kid, who loves to talk and tell jokes, read, and spend time together.   I couldn't ask for a nicer big brother to all his younger siblings.

Before I had kids, I always looked forward to parenthood with excitement and trepidation at the same time. What kind of parent would I be?  How would I feel about my child?  I worried that staying home with just one child might feel like a waste of time.  But looking back, the time I spent with this boy, and any of my kids for that matter, has been the best-spent time of all.  My favorite memories, even when on a particular day I had to leave dishes, time for myself, or something else waiting at home, are of these little people.  I will always treasure the time I had with each one of them--there has not even been one time spent together that I have thought of as a waste, even if it was less than ideal (some less than ideal times need a little space before realizing the good in them, right?).  There is a part of me that will always look back sentimentally and wish to hold my little boy again, or do something differently, but I will never regret the time I spent with him, and in some ways it makes the passage of time a little easier to take-- that I know I did my best to make the most of it.   Right from the start, I was so in love with this little boy, for good reasons.  He has changed my life in so many ways for the better.  The things people say about having kids, is true.   While there can be frustrating and exhausting and discouraging days, they get in your heart and you will never be the same.

(see here for something I wrote about how having him and parenting changed my life)

 We had a favorite park within walking distance of our house when we lived in England.  We went there often to play or explore the woods or have a picnic.

These two have always had a special relationship, in spite of what would seem to be evidence to the contrary here.

 Cutest big brother ever.  But I'm biased.

Even though I will always feel such a fondness when I think about my little boy, I sure love that my arm fits comfortably around his shoulders, that he gets my jokes, plays with the little ones, and is such a pleasant, happy kid.  My life would definitely not be the same without him.  One of the best choices I have ever made.

Great, great kid.

How has parenting changed you?  In what ways is it different than you expected?  Better?  

A Little Love

I started composing a little (ha! like anything I write is little! I can't help myself) post about how this months goals are going, but I've been too busy to finish it.

Sometimes, do you just need a little perspective in your life?  I really needed this.  It helps me to remember what matters most.  I have had my own little secret helper and it has been such a boost to know someone out there cares!  All those little acts we do, they aren't wasted.  They make a difference.

I Didn't Plan to be a....(Fill in the Blank)

I got a big kick out of this, as shared by a friend on Facebook.

Today I've been thinking about my ideals pre-motherhood and how they have translated into real life, as inspired by Linda Eyre's book I Didn't Plan to Be a Witch.  Lets just say they can be summed up in four people, when you dive down deep enough: my mom, my dad, Maria vonTrapp, and the sort of fuzzy soft idealized mother handed down by our culture as represented in Peter Pan.  And lets face it, my church had a lot to do with inspiring me, both with words and actual examples of real life amazing mothers (one biggie for me was seeing the inside of some incredible women's homes in Dallas as a missionary...they really inspired me).  But that is another post.

How did I arrive at these four pillars of ideal mothering?  I suppose I picked little ideas like flowers as a child and stored them away for later.  Speaking of flowers.  One early memory that inspired me involves my dad.  I remember on a walk home from church he showed me the little green shoots of new flowers peeping up through soft piles of wet brown dirt.   Right then and there I cemented an idea in my head, about the kind of parent I wanted to be.  As a mom I was going to go on nature walks with my kids and point out all the little things that normally go unnoticed when whizzing by in a car.  On a different occasion, on a warm summer night, we played kick-the-can with all the cousins.  I have to tell you, I thought that was the coolest thing ever, that a grown-up would stoop to the level of acting like a kid and having fun at it!  I promised myself I'd play with my kids.

My mom taught me how to read from a young age.  She helped me through all those things I didn't realize I'd need later in life. ("B flat!")  She was sort of the backbone in our family, keeping things together, structured, and organized.  She was the engine, too.  The one that kept things running.  And the one who made our home so inviting and sweet-smelling and home-like.  And for being my cheerleader.  Now that I'm a mother, I appreciate my mother a thousand fold as I recognize all those unheralded invisible things she did for me that have become such a big part of who I am. Again I secretly decided I'd like to to teach my kids to read at a young age and I'd like to wrap garlands around the banisters at holiday time and go to all my kids games.  (Trying to be my mother and my father has been kind of a problem for me at times, that is another post!)

Then Julie Andrews, ahh, Julie Andrews.  When you sang "Raindrops on Roses" and washed Liesel's dress without telling and made play clothes out of your old drapes and played your guitar in the wagon and swung from trees and sang Doe a Deer, I knew exactly what kind of mother I wanted to be.  Loving, fun, kind.  Someone who made kids happy and made them feel like a million bucks.  And yes, I kind of idealized that big, happy family and secretly wished for one just like it some day. 

Being a mother, and a really good one, became an unspoken passion for me.  Even a couple of months ago, for example, at a family dinner, some teenagers sort of lightheartedly asked what we'd all like to be when we grow up.  And, honestly, I've been down this motherhood road now for a while, there are no more delusions, but as I searched deep in my soul I realized I still see motherhood as my ideal career.  After that, I think I would be an oceanographer.  Or a kindergarten teacher.  Or a war correspondent.  Things I wouldn't have chosen way back when.

Sorry I talk so much.

So, when I envisioned this beautiful (thanks Julie and mom), sing-songy, playful, patient, kind, smart, empathetic mother that I wanted to be, I did not in fact envision a few things.  Here is my short (ha!) list:

1)  Wiping little booger-y noses on the underside of my shirt.  Lets just say this happens frequently.
2)  So much exposure to bodily fluids you must might say I have a minor in HASMAT bodily fluid clean-up, at least a merit badge, from cleaning vomit from all sorts of surfaces, puddles big and small, poop from the carpet and other assorted places, and blood.  I never saw how some of these things would be so commonplace that I would barely flinch while dealing with them (and others would stare me down, willing me to go ahead and clean them up, no matter how experienced I'd become).  Like the time my son impaled his head on a jutting rock while we were shopping and I didn't even think, I grabbed a soft pink baby blanket and stuck it right on his profusely bleeding head, held it on there while holding a baby on the other hip with others following behind, a crowd of onlookers staring at us as we trailed into the bathroom to handle our little emergency (he ran into a rock pillar while he was looking backward watching for a fountain to go shoot off; my husband called him "geyser"-- which is what my son said he was craning his neck to see-- so cute-- in jest for a little while after this incident) .
3)  Speaking of number 2, I never thought I would show so much interest in the contents of my baby's diapers.  Never thought I'd examine that stuff like a biologist studying a foreign specimen.
4)  Never pictured myself frumpy or overweight.  Not only being out of style, but actually being unaware of what the current styles even are (or figuring them out too late!  hey, on a positive note, I just learned yesterday that my bushy eyebrows, which I sort of secretly agonize over, are now in fashion!  Thank you, world!  For saving me some time and pain and anguish!).  Or putting in a ponytail for the 7th day in a row because it is most functional.
5)  I never figured, as a twenty-something movie goer, I that some day I wouldn't have a clue as to what the latest movies are.
6)  On the flip side, I never pictured myself telling someone enthusiastically about the latest Disney movie or Little Einstein or Diamond Castle movie.  Ditto on books like "Children Make Terrible Pets."  (and wondering why grown adults weren't acting as excited as I felt!)
7)  Having a mental list of all the pros and cons of local parks or museums.  Or knowing which locales are stroller friendly or toddler friendly.
8)  Never saw myself eating whole pans of brownies, or for that matter, all my kids leftovers, even, gross, ones that have been in their mouth (not often, but it does happen!). 
9)  Never pictured myself giving up sleep to get a little alone time.
10)  Never pictured myself giving up alone time to get some sleep.
11)  I never saw myself as "that mom" with the weeds, the dirty house, and the stinky car.  Probably the one thing on this list that truly distresses me some days. (Should I add to the list-- fantasizing about sleep or a clean house!  Or even just fantasizing about being alone for five minutes, even if it is just to go to the bathroom or shower)
12)  I never in a million years would have figured that trips to the dentist would become a secret get-away time that felt, lets just admit it right now-- luxurious-- because all I have to do is lie there!
12)  My inability to properly discipline my children (remember those days when you vowed "that will never be my child!" hmmmmm).   Or all the times I would "conveniently" look away because now is just not a convenient time.
13)  The martyr-me who cannot ask for help and who eventually retreats into a good book or sugar or some good old fashioned celebrity gossip when times get tough.
14)  The beautiful vision of getting up in the night in my flowing white nightgown to comfort my frightened or sick children gives way to a blurry, disheveled, one-eye-open-harsh-croaking voice chortling "get back to bed!"
15)  Choosing clothes based on function rather than fashion.  Like a good pair of tennis shoes.
16)  The depths to which you lower your pride when having a baby.  (how about after my second child, throwing up twice, losing a ton of blood and being so weak that the nurses had to dress and undress me, and later give me a bath.  Does it get much worse than that?)  All pride goes out the window.  And all modesty (like, how about learning how to nurse for the first time?  people act like your "girls" are just an artifact to be passed around as they try to figure out how to make those things work.)
17)  Never thought I'd say "because I said so."  This is a parental hand-me-down for a reason.
18)  Never pictured what I was missing in my life before wet wipes.  Or how casual I'd be about some germs because I had that good old standby ready.
19) Never pictured myself using "that" voice-- you know, the non-Julie Andrews one, the one that says, "I'm about two seconds away from strangling you and I am doing all I can to restrain myself."
20)  The whisper shout.  Or the death stare. Or snapping at someone, literally or verbally.
21)  Calling my husband "dad."  (I swore I'd never do this one!)
22) The disgusting car seat.  Enough said.

(Love this video, called "Dad Life"-- makes me laugh)

While some of these things are just funny, and others would have distressed me 20 years ago, I feel I have a more mature perspective now.  I realize not knowing who is the hottest actor in Hollywood or wearing tennis shoes or taking a shower at 5pm doesn't really matter all that much  (though some truly are a little distressing, or a lot distressing, like the stinky thing or the overweight thing, no matter what I tell myself about beauty being on the inside).

(Yes those beauties over there are my legs, while pregnant this last time around.  Never in a million years pictured that, or how much it would hurt!)

So how do you handle the little disconnects from reality in your life?  I loved Linda Eyre's perspective in her book I Didn't Plan to Be a Witch, where she humorously recounts the differences between her preconceived notions about motherhood and real-life reality, laced with practical, down-to-earth parenting advice.  I loved seeing her life from the outside.  The times when she lost her patience, I was quite amazed she hadn't lost it bigger and sooner (this blessed woman had nine children!  And the days she quote, unquote "lost her patience" she was so busy trying to be a good mother!)!  And seeing that her kids turned out so wonderfully, in spite of times that must have felt crazy and un-idealistic to her, and in spite of all the areas she felt she had fallen short.

It's okay to stand face-to-face with that demon reality and look him square in the eye.  It's okay to come face-to-face with our preconceptions as well, to see just how funny they really are sometimes! I'm sorry Julie Andrews, you are just not realistic 24/7.  But that doesn't mean that I need to give up on that ideal.  Or that I need to quit dreaming about the mother I want to be when I grow up.  I just need to see that this world is an imperfect place, my kids are imperfect, accidents happen, so does crazy weather or no sleep or grumpy days.   And then I pick myself up and have a good laugh and try harder tomorrow.

And lastly, for me, seeing the good things I do and the good things that have come to me that I similarly never pictured pre-parenthood.

That moment, when my first child was being born, the nurses had asked me if I wanted to reach down and touch his head (so sorry if this is TMI, you are learning things about me you never wanted to know).  Just a few weeks before this, my husband and I were watching a video in our birthing class (lets just say one father-to-be was so shocked he let out a very memorable expletive).  I was mortified when the nurse in the video asked the laboring mother if she wanted to touch her baby's head as it crowned.  I thought I would never be that woman, ick.  Keep the mirrors and cameras and bystanders away and don't ask me to touch my baby's head.  But there in that hospital room, surrounded by a loving doctor and nurse and my dear spouse (and even a bystander!  I never cease to surprise myself) in a situation I thought I would find horrifically embarrassing, I surprised myself by saying "yes."  That moment, which had really started months before when I heard that little galloping heart that mirrored my own, pulled the most powerful emotion I'd feel in this life to the surface.  He was almost here!  My child! (also thinking-- after all the nausea and growing belly for nine months, he is not a figment of my imagination! lol)  Whom I'd already learned to love and protect and sacrifice for.  Almost here to meet me.   I was overwhelmed and started to cry!  And so did everyone else in the room.  No weird, no ick, my little boy, after nine long months, was here and he was worth it.

How do you describe that to your your twenty something self?  You will hurt worse than you ever have in your life, you will waddle around like a duck and not be able to go more than 20 minutes without going to the bathroom, later you'll be up in the middle of the night changing a onesie covered from head to toe in golden brown deliciousness, and yet it is the most magical experience of your life.  All those little pains and inconveniences and not knowing who Robert Pattinson is (or thinking whoop-de-doo, if you are me, sorry Twilight fans), these burdens suddenly become as light as a feather when you have that little child who trusts you and loves you no matter what.  To whom you are now that Peter Pan mother.  That golden aura mother who they will learn to love more than anyone else, no matter how famous or powerful or rich.  That moment when everything switches from your own needs to choosing to put someone else's needs first.  Because you actually want to.

(LOVE those first smiles meant just for me!)

That little person will capture your heart and you will never get it back. You'll see past boogers into a little soul that needs you and loves you unconditionally and makes your heart feel something you never knew you'd feel.  Someone you're willing to go to the moon and back for, slip out of bed at night even though sleep is so precious, just to watch their chest rise and fall softly in the dark; worrying about them while they are in school or at a friends or in someone else's car, reaching through the air with your thoughts as if you can somehow distantly wrap protective arms around them; going without something for yourself in order to give them that special birthday present, learning opportunity, or cute pair of jeans; feeling as if your heart were walking around outside your body; going to great lengths to hear them laugh or make them smile; taking time away from something for yourself in order to do something for them; save little scrawled drawings in piles in your basement; smell those little onesies just to drink in that baby smell while baby is napping; try to still your heart as I fold tiny ruffled shirts, tied to so many memories, and close them into a large box forever; cry when I put away the little bassinet, even though I hated that darn thing (my babies never slept well in it); or have an ever-lovin' breakdown when my husband suggested recently that we get rid of some of the baby things we no longer need.

They are worth it.  Every bit.  Maybe it doesn't look so great on the outside, but there is nothing that beats it on the inside.

So while I am not always singing Doe a Deer in a beautiful dress in the Alps every day to my adoring, smiling, well-dressed children, there are things I do that I never pictured myself doing that are good.  I love them with a fierce love I could never express.  I have sacrificed for them and hurt for them and wiped their boogers on my shirt.  And it was worth every stinkin' minute.

(never pictured some of the stuff I'd save or take pictures of, either!)

What I've Learned, My Parenting Project So Far, 7 Months

*  Goals that are measurable are much more likely to be successful, especially long term.
*  Spending time with my kids is usually my favorite time of day, and the times I enjoy looking back on the most. 
*  The key, for me, to spending time together, is consistency (when I make excuses and allow myself to let other jobs creep into that time, it is 20 times harder the next day....if spend the time consistently, I adjust to it, and don't even remember what it felt like to have that time for other chores) and
*  starting, which is half the battle.  It may be so so so hard to leave the laundry or the dishes or the whatever it is, telling myself that just today I don't have the time, but just getting started, it gives the best feeling!  Its so fun to see their little eyes light up and their little smiles just meant for me.
*  or leaving.  If I just can't focus at home, that is when we go for a walk or to the park or the zoo or  ______( fill-in-the-blank).  It is in these moments I forget that sometimes heavy to-do list and just focus on my little ones.  They are what lasts, anyway, not the laundry or the grocery list or whatever it is.
*  Speaking one love language (thanks to The Five Love Languages of Children by Chapman/Campbell) makes it really easy to speak another, ie, saying kind words kinda makes you want to give that kid a little squeeze, too, and vice versa.
*  My kiddos are less of a discipline problem when they feel loved and have had my attention.
*  Taking care of myself makes me a better parent.  When I am tired, run-down, burnt-out, or on a sugar low after eating that pan of brownies, I am much more likely to be impatient.
*  Simplifying our schedule also aids my parenting efforts.  
*  Old habits start to creep back if I'm not watchful.
*  I can tell a big difference in my kid's intelligence and empathy when I am spending more time with them.
*  Quality spouse time also aids my parenting, as we become more of a team, show more love to each other, and thus have a more positive home environment.
*  I can't forget that-- I am part of a team-- going to my spouse for suggestions has provided some rich opportunities.  (we recite "Learn-Do-Be" as a motto each FHE and the kids love it)
*  I need to learn to laugh at crazy situations and accidents instead of feeling stressed about them.  Like, think how funny this will be ten years down the road.  As an entire box of melted ice cream you just found under the desk as it drip-drip-drips.
*  Its important to be flexible.
*  When in doubt, compassion comes first, even if it is inconvenient. 
*  Set my sights low on some things, like projects.  If they are too high, I'm setting myself up to get frustrated when I start getting interruptions
*  Set aside my pride.  Sometimes putting others first requires the temporary sacrifice of other things.  So when the neighbor shows up and it looks like *&^% has just unleashed (chocolate ice cream, drip drip drip), just smile and wave.  And know you are doing what is most important.
*  Healthy meals don't have to be fancy.  And while there will always be moans and groans at the dinner table, my kids enjoyed healthy food much more than I thought they would.  I need to give them more credit.
*  Recognizing my own needs and giving myself a little bit of time taking care of them (one month, I just got myself some pink lipstick!), provides a safety valve that gives me a little relief from the wonderful but exhausting job of being a full-time parent, in turn giving me more energy for my kiddos later.
*  Cutting back on the TV made my kids read more and play more and made our house (and my conscience) a more peaceful place to be.
*  Spending a little time getting organized pays huge dividends.  (another thing that can undermine patience, when you are trying to find that little lost ballet slipper!  I know this by long, hard experience)  :)
*  Throw out perfectionism.   This is an ongoing battle on many fronts.  "Don't let the perfect be the enemy of the good" is one of my new mantras. :)
*  Look for the good, in them, and in me.  I noticed my kids try so much harder to please me when I am positive and loving toward them instead of grouchy and demanding.  While looking for ways to be better, its important to recognize the good things I am and am doing.
*  My kids already know what they need to work on, even if it doesn't seem like it at times.  They are going to turn out just fine! (in spite of the dripping ice cream!) Don't panic. 
*  I am the eye of the tornado, man.  My kids are much more loving toward each other when I am loving and calm and kind.  Sad but true that the parents generally set the tone of the whole house.
*  My kids get along better when we spend good quality time together.
*  Involve God.   When I did this, it made for my best months.
*  When all else fails, tomorrow is a new day.  Time to push the "reset" button.  Kids are so forgiving.  They will forgive my weaknesses as a parent, as long as my end-goal is loving them!  They won't look back and think, my mom was so good at using the Ferber technique, but they will remember that I had time for them, that I loved them, and they were more important to me than just about anything else.
* The Big picture - sometimes I have to step back and see it. Some day, when my kids are learning to drive, or struggling with a first job, or away at school, I will miss those days when a little one threw a tantrum over a lollipop or begged to be held all day or came in for some hugs at night because they were scared. This is such a special time, and its not going to last forever. 

And the last thing I've learned....I am so long winded!  Sorry!  You are so patient.  I love you, dear readers!  Share with me something you've learned lately through your parenting struggles and challenges.  I'd love to hear-- I learn so much from you!

What a Joke

Today while I was getting something out of my refrigerator, a plastic container filled with Butternut Squash soup fell and broke, spreading orange gooey goodness all down my fridge, on the floor, on my kitchen rug and splashed right on up the cabinets.  Aren't those the times you just want to sell the house rather than clean up the mess?  I just stood there for a minute taking it all in before I realized I did Have.To.Clean.It.Up.   I even had a little eager helper.  As I gingerly lifted my overdue-to-be-cleaned rug so I could take it upstairs to be washed, a nice floor of sandy accumulated goodness was revealed underneath.  Carrying that rug and trying to contain the excitement of my little helper required some delicacy; it felt as if we were carrying the limp and lifeless rug to be sacrificed to the laundry god.

Then not ten minutes later I spilled a whole container full of noodles in the exact same spot!  (a few minutes after that I dropped a clean bowl and spoon into the contamination zone-- hmmm....what is my problem?).  The baby, instead of eating the few remaining noodles in the original bowl (which I had set on the table for him), was now picking noodles out of the sandy, post-pukish looking remnants of the Butternut Squash soup and helping himself. Aaaaaaaaaaagh!  (it truly is amazing any of us survive childhood)

I had an entire day like this a few weeks ago.  It started off with kids scrambling with half-brushed hair for homework and shoes in order to RUN for the bus.  Someone was missing one shoe.  Someone else needed to run upstairs (just really quick, Mom!) to grab a library book that was due that day.  Someone else had no socks on and had to run upstairs to hunt for a mis-matched pair.  Someone else needed homework signed (I forgot last night mom!) Someone else was reading while tying his shoes while late for the bus (more on this later).  It seems every day I am giving them a barely squeeze and almost pushing them out the door saying "RUN!"  (with a trailing 'love you!')



I have been unable to run for exercise lately (and I miss it so badly!), but I still wanted to try and exercise, so I pulled out the old sweaty step and the old Kathy Smith video and geared up for what I thought was a really low expectation work-out-- 20 to 25 minutes.  I figured the kids would just play and wouldn't really worry about mommy stepping up and down in one place while a boring lady talked on TV.  Boy was I wrong.  I had some little helpers.  My three year-old wanted to try out my step just like the pretty lady, so I went downstairs and found her a little step, which I had to keep moving because she wanted to be right. Next. To me.  (the same child that wants to sit on my lap every meal)  I really think it is cute, and I like having a buddy.  But I'm not getting much exercise.  The baby decides to sit on the step and watch the movie.  He has hardly watched TV in his life, he has never been interested, and he chooses now to suddenly be interested in that boring lady on TV.  He is sitting so cute on my step, what can I do?  So I try my best to step around him; sometimes I can only fit the tip of my toe on the step without squishing little fingers.  It was very creative.  Then about 6 minutes in, he started to say "hold you."  I tried putting him on the couch, but he would return to the foot of my step and cry, holding up his arms and saying "hold you!"  So I ended up shutting it off and holding "you" because he would not be deterred. 

When it was time for dance all we could find were holey tights (laundry room smelling like someone died in there) and a be-smudged leotard (are those stains or is it dirty?  sometimes I can't tell).  And the laundry I had washed the day before but hadn't had a chance to fold (running kids to soccer and scouts and whatever else) was now scattered in a lava-style volcano blast all across my room, as different kids had tossed out items in search of others as they hunted for that sock or pair of jeans or whatever it was.  Earlier we'd found one ballet slipper in the trunk of the car, then went on a hunt for the other one.  I took one look at my floor, almost completely covered in disheveled clothes, and thought, "what a joke."  There was no stinkin' way I was finding that ballet slipper in there.  (all the while thinking-- why do I live like this again?)  I lifted up a few items, but lets just say, it was pointless.  Because I've had this little girl late to dance pretty much every lesson for a year, and I'm always apologizing for it and promising to change, I thought....we can not be late!  Her teacher is going to think I am the worst mother in the world! (as she watches my child dance with her toe poking out of her tights, since we couldn't find her other slipper)

These are the times I can feel my blood pressure rising, rising, rising, that at any minute I might just, well, explode into a thousand mommy pieces in a gooey mess just like that bowl of soup. (I wonder if anyone would clean it up or if they would just step right over it, lol) Over and over this crazy morning I kept saying to myself what. a. joke.

Then of course, the baby was suddenly smelling a little ripe.  Worst timing.  So I quickly plopped him down on the floor and changed his diaper, resigning myself to swallowing my mom pride for at least one more week.

So we rounded up random shoes after finding several pairs with no mates (where in the world do they run off to?  Just took them off yesterday?), fed the cats (can't just leave them to starve while I'm gone), buckled everyone in, and got in the car.  My blood pressure was holding steady at an abnormally high level, but luckily so far no animals had been harmed in the making of this movie.  I kept thinking what a joke.  What a joke.  What a joke.

So we're sitting there, in the car, holey tights and all, but everyone is buckled in and safe and quiet for a minute.  The leaves had changed in the neighborhood and the sun was shining through yellow veined leaves and red ones.  The mountains looked like they had been dusted in powdered sugar-snow over night.  The sky was so blue and the day was just so pretty.  And I realized-- we are all safe, I didn't lose it and go in my closet and scream to myself like I felt like doing (I have never done this, but read about it in a book and I definitely feel this way some days).  I am choosing certain things over others.  I could have told my kids no activities or I could choose to spend less time on them and just be a maid all day.  Or I could quit nursing or exercising or something.  I am choosing my life right now, and its not all good or all bad, and I can keep on working on getting better at being more organized and accept the rest for now.  I can't always choose those last minute little things that are out of my control or whether someone spills or loses something but I can learn to choose to laugh about it.  It is a joke.  A big one.  That I will look back at some day with fondness, in spite of it all.  I will miss those little fingers vying for attention on my Kathy Smith step or the arms up, wanting me, and only me.  I have little ones that want to hang with me all day and into the night.  Hey, I'm popular right now.  And that is a good place to be.  It won't always be that way.  Some day I'm sure I will want to frame those little fingerprints on my step or crave having a little girl sit on my lap, even if it means I can't quite get a full meal in.  Or miss the big boy who wants to tell me all about his friend's weird jokes or a little girl who still loves my hugs or has to be reminded to pick up her shoes (every single day).  It is crazy, but it is crazy good.  And crazy funny sometimes.  And I love it.  I'd choose it again, over and over, holey tights and all.

The crazy didn't end there.  Later that day I attempted to clean my messy house before scouts.  The other leader who works with me, whom I love, she is so fabulous (I have had some really great scout partners, and I love scouts, makes up for having to wear those ignominious yellow shirts).  But she has never even once seen my house clean (and hers is gorgeous and spotless).  Baby was crying and hanging on me, it was a joke.  :)  So I let him play on the porch while I did the bare minimum of throwing in some dishes and running a rag over the beauty that was my sticky countertops.  When I went to retrieve him (he was with his sister and I technically could see them through the window, though I clearly wasn't paying close attention to what they were doing, as you will see), he had taken little fistfulls of dirt and thrown them all over the porch.  It was time for scouts, and in spite of the dirty porch it was still better than my house, so we sat on little dirt crumbs for an hour-- I once had a scout start pulling my obnoxiously big weeds during a lesson).  That night I threw together a plain noodle-carrots-out-of-the-bag dinner, got my kids ready for bed, then welcomed in a man from our ward (congregation) just as hubby was getting home.  After some large small talk, he asked me to be the secretary for the children's organization in our local church.  This had to be the biggest joke of the day!  For the first time in my life, I actually turned to my husband right then and there and commented on the irony of the situation (you are all too familiar with my disorganization and attempts to remedy this).  Me, a secretary?  Aren't secretaries supposed to be the organized ones?  Ha ha, someone has a sense of humor.  Of course I said yes, and we will see if the women I will be working with will be laughing a few months from now.  :)

Yes, I really realized, it really is a big huge joke!  That I get to live in and be a part of and contribute to the punch line.  And remember it with happy tears years later, when the chaos is a distant memory and so are the little voices singing some repetitive song while I'm trying to handle some emergency.  I'll take it.   But it doesn't mean I still can't go in the closet and scream sometimes-- its all part of the joke.  One that I can laugh at, letting that lightness creep into my in-the-moment stressed heart, and see that these crazy days really are funny-- I just need to see it.  And some day I'll miss it, crazy and all.


Laughing about our crazy sledding experiences-- a video on my husband's phone.

How do you help yourself lighten up when in a stressful situation?  How do you help yourself see the funny in it? 

A Little Bend in the Road

Over the last week, I think I reached the first real bend in my road.  The one where I think I just want to sit down on a rock and rest a bit.  Ok, maybe forever.

I've had a few setbacks, and I've been a little discouraged.   (BTW, this months resolutions are NOT happening!)

Then I realized a few things. 

One day, feeling down, I sat at the computer and nursed baby.  I was grumpy because I had a lot to do.  I started wondering why I'm doing this-- it is hard to find time for the things I need to do, let alone want to do.  Then I looked down at his face.  And he looked up at me with those big brown eyes and smiled that smile that is meant only for Mom.  The one that tells me I am his universe right now.  And everything else.  And I realized THIS.  THIS is why I'm doing my project.  For that little face, and four others.  And not for any other reason.  Not for my health, or sanity, or pocketbook, or figure.



I read this quote (here, one of my favorite posts of Stephanie Nielsen, their back-to-school feast):


Photo credit: Justin Hackworth

I read this quote (here):


And saw this video via Design Mom (TEARS)-- so beautiful and inspiring, about a French Designer and how one letter to Mother Theresa changed her life:



"Come, all hands are needed." 

New favorite quote.  Reminds me not to get so caught up in life's little details that I miss the big picture.

I remembered that God is on my side, and He will help me, and make up for the things I give up along the way.

That my blessings far outnumber my challenges.   I just need to take a step back and see them! 

And a few principles I've learned along the way.

1.  Habits make hard things easier.

2.  Taking care of myself is important-- when I don't get enough rest, or nutritious food, it undermines my ability to care for others and be kind or patient with others. 

3.  Little aggravations are common in any relationship, especially marriage.  How I handle those little things can either create an ulcer or a pearl, depending on how those minor aggravations are handled. 

4.  Instead of complaining or venting, maybe a gratitude list is in order:  the baby smell on my hands, the way the mountains look like russet velvet, the little drawing or note left on the counter, the mountain of laundry that shows I have lots of people to influence, care for, and love.



(this picture of a "duck" was presented to me with pride this morning!  Isn't that the most darling duck?  It is gray and look at all those webbed feet!  I got a major kick out of this)

5.  The biggest hurdle to doing something good is simply starting that thing.  I am so tempted by all my busy to-do's to cut out the time with the kids or cancel a date or tell the family they can't come over.  But as soon as I have begun said activity, my load is lightened and I am so glad I didn't give up prematurely.

6.  Doing things for others is the quickest way for me out of the doldrums.  I finally sent off my "Hondeydukes" package to a friend and instantly felt my day brighten. (more about this later)

Hard days aren't forever.  I have to be flexible, looking for ways to readjust if needed, and remember my priorities.   These days won't last forever.