Family Night - Positive Words

I've been loving all I've learned about speaking positively and simultaneously wanting to share some of it with our family.  I feel if we change the way we speak to one another it could potentially revolutionize our whole way of life in a good way (we aren't bad in the way we speak to each other, we do fine, but we can always do better, right?). 

Every Monday night we have a family night.  Some days are better than others and our kids are little enough that lessons need to be short and sweet.  We talked about positive speaking-- I used stories from the examples in this post.  Even though the kids were wiggly and distracted at times I think they enjoyed it.   The best part was telling each other what we like about each other.  We're making these (above, an example of something my son made for me for Mother's Day) today so each child can be reminded of what we think is special about him/her and so we have positive words in reservoir for reminding when we need something nice to say.  :)

Little Girl Update

I think I've been through all ranges of human emotions over the last few days.   Gotten a little bit of perspective and a realization just how important one little six year-old human being is to me.

On Sunday, she had some leg pain that progressed to a trip to the ER.

Yesterday morning she had surgery on her hip.  They cleaned the joint in an effort to prevent what has the potential to cause permanent damage, after an ultrasound-guided needle inserted into her joint revealed a possible infection (during the first night in the ER).  When we first arrived in the ER, they did blood work and a regular X-ray, the most traumatizing event of the night, because they had to try to bend her knee and rotate it outward (cringe cringe cringe as I listen helplessly to her scream, since I couldn't be in the room! this made me feel so bad for her!)  All night she was in terrible pain, screaming and gnashing her teeth together, even after they gave her Morphine.  Then she had an ultrasound that showed quite a bit of fluid surrounding her femur.  After they pulled out some of the fluid via the ultrasound + needle, she finally slept sporadically and stopped the periodic screaming she had been doing since late afternoon the day before.  Her leg kept giving her painful spasms, so she wanted my hand on her knee as much as possible that night.

At 4 am the Orthopedic doc said they needed to operate right away due to the nature of the fluid they found in her joint.  He said "this is considered an orthopedic emergency."  Of course we were hoping to avoid surgery, but the alternative-- quick and permanent damage to her joint-- was worse (he said they can't even afford to wait for culture results to get back).

She came out of surgery about 10am.  She kept retching and was still really out of it for a while, I'm sure in part because she had slept so little the night before.  By afternoon she was a groggy sort of awake and got to watch a bunch of movies (it made me laugh that she wanted to watch Cupcake Wars much more than the movie I brought).

Miguel and I have taken turns with her and we've had family here to help (such a godsend!).  The hospital won't let any kids under 14 in to see her because we're in RSV season right now.  That has caused its own little problem.   So I took home some crestfallen tired ones when they were told they couldn't come in to see her, and I found out that later that afternoon one sister had locked herself in my closet.  She was especially affected by her sister's absence and worried and upset that she couldn't see her (see last post!).  I realized that the last time they saw her, she was being hauled away at night, screaming in pain.

Last night Miguel slept in the hospital with her and all the rest of the kids but one opted to sleep in my room or in my bed.  When I had left her the day before, they were concerned that her heart rate was still high (hovering around 150-160, ocassionally going even higher) and tested her to make sure she had no bacteria in her bloodstream.  Right now she is having an MRI to determine whether the infection is gone or whether they have to go back in and clean it out.

Thanks for the kind wishes from many of you.  Keep praying for her, we need it. :)

Month 3, Part Two-- Teaching Work

This month I have some specific things we need to improve on.  I don't think we are bad at working, we just need to improve.  The kids have jobs and the thing I've found to be most successful at motivating them is no privileges (TV, computer, friends, etc) until their jobs are done.  I'm not consistent about some things, but this is one thing I'm consistent about, and it works really well.

I have used a binder system to track jobs in the past (I am not good at any kind of job chart that requires frequent maintenance on my part, such as stickers).   It worked well.  But now we use My Job Chart -- see my review here.  One of the nice things about My Job Chart is that it keeps track of how many "points" your child earns-- you don't have to.  The only time parental involvement needed is to add or change jobs, specify which rewards are available for your child to earn (there are custom fields for both of these, if you want them to have a job or reward not in My Job Chart's system, and you can decide if you want them to be able to earn toys or monetary-based rewards), and act when they redeem an award.

After reading The Parenting Breakthrough my Merrillee Boyack, here are some of the things she's inspired me to work on, as well as some of my own:

1)  Make a list of all the things I would like my kids to learn in order to be an independent adult (list things like wise investing, how to clean a toilet, how to change the oil in a car, etc), then make a plan, year by year, of the things they need to learn.  She has her own plan, according to age, which is really good.  There are definitely some things on her list that my kids are not doing. 

We already started this, and it was a wonderful experience for me and my husband.  What a great perspective giver.  We are going to hone it down a little in conjunction with a family motto and basic family rules, but we got a great start.

2)  Help my kids understand the value of work.   Making them work and actually helping them learn to value work are two different things.  (more of that becoming stuff I want-- if they actually value it, it will change their life, if not, its only a short-term fix)

Immediate plan:  I have a Family Night lesson all planned for tonight-- we'll see how it goes.  Obviously it will take a lot of times for this lesson to really sink in.  For tonight, I'm also going to introduce the "training plan" Boyack writes about-- giving my kids some notice before I train them in a new job.  (more later in the month)

3)  Help them learn how to be self-starters-- get up early, on their own, and get to work (dream on, right?).  I don't know how I'm going to do this yet, but I am determined to help them do it!

4)  Work hard myself.  I've been afraid to push myself too hard since I didn't sleep the first 10 months of baby's life, but its time to start.  Every parenting book I read says that kids need to see their parents showing the way rather than just spewing idle talk.

5)  Limit TV/computer.  We've gotten into some bad habits the last six months or so!  I'm going to limit my kiddos to 1 hour of screen time during the summer, limit TV to weekends during the school year for the big kids (1 hour per day during school year for little ones). 

6)  Accountability.  I'm going to actually check my kids jobs to make sure they are done.  Boyack suggests making a 3x5 card with the requirements for a particular job in detail-- ie, for bathroom it would include wipe mirrors, empty trash, wipe sinks, clean toilet, etc.

7)  Positive Rewards.  I made a jar with papers called "Mystery Motivators" (got the idea from a friend).  I learned in The Power of Positive Parenting (Latham) that intermittent reinforcement can be a powerful rewarding tool (periodically providing a reward-- this also works in the negative, if I let them get away with something once, they are likely to try many times to get away with it again).

8)  Work together.  I've wanted to work together as a family for ages, we just never do it.  Going to try something new this month, I'll let you know how it goes.

How do you teach your kids to work?  Any job chart ideas that work for you?  Boyack thinks varying the job charts is a great idea to keep things interesting.

Little Things

We went for an impromptu picnic on Friday night.  A few years ago we decided to save TV for the weekend only during school, and to make this transition easier, we made Friday night extra special by having a family movie night and pizza. 

Only, in good weather, it seems like a waste of a good evening.  So we took our pizza to a park just 5 minutes from our house that we have only visited once before.  It was a gorgeous night.  The mountains were rust and amber and brown and yellow.  The light was some sort of honey-colored magic.

We explored wooded paths overgrown with leaves and branches, played, and watched some people "fighting," as my three year-old called it.  (she'd say "where are the fighting people?")

It was so easy.  And so nice.

Other little things from this week:

Meeting my oldest three at school for lunch.  My little six year-old has decided that first grade is hard and called me from school, crying to come home last week.  In the heat of the moment, I realized that it would be so easy to run on over and pick her up.  Then I realized that the better service for her would be the harder one for me-- to have her stay at school.  But that didn't mean I couldn't come and visit her at lunch this week for a little moral support.

Then I stayed for lunch with my son.  His friends were giggling and talking and enjoying eachother.  I wondered if he would be embarrassed of me and the two little ones.  Instead, he held baby on his lap and all his friends laughed at baby's antics.  He and one friend begged me to come to recess and then followed the baby around laughing some more at how he pumps one arm only while running (and saying "running!" in a breathless voice), and mothering him a bit.  Every time I said I needed to go they'd say "NO!"

(they were so cute, all snuggled in my bed this morning!)

Today, I didn't want to leave my nine year-old out, so I swung by and picked up a little $1 ice cream.  As I walked into the school, other kids were jealously oohing and ahhing at the plastic ice cream cups I was juggling.   When I found her, I could tell by her eyes that she was really happy we had come.  And it was so easy-- just remembering a small thing she liked-- not much extra time but it was a big deal to her.

Reading to baby on a plush velvet couch during dance class, his little pudgy arms pointing out trucks and doggies, his little cute body snuggled up to mine.

Peach pie for an after school snack, slurped and laughed at and enjoyed around the table together.  "Mom, did you do this for us, because we said we liked pie?"  "Yup." (though I'm not making another one for a while!  If we have a craving, I think they'll like store bought just as well!) (by the way, one of the resolutions that I keep meaning to update is no dessert before dinner-- we've really slacked on that one, but we're still eating pretty healthy overall)

Little, easy things.  They are giving me so much pleasure.

(Only, now it's time to go and clean my house!)

(note: I've still been doing their hair every day, but some days it doesn't last long!  But I feel good if I tried)

Check out this cute idea for making dinner fun!  Another way to keep dinner feeling like an act of service and not a chore, and it looks like the kids love it. 

Bethlehem Dinner

This is the second year we've had a special dinner on Christmas Eve.  Another idea I got from a family I knew in Dallas.  We attempted to dress like and eat as the people of Israel would have 2000 years ago.  (I know we're waaaaay off)

Of course Christmas Eve is a crazy time for parents, right?  And of course we (should I say "I") procrastinated making our gifts from the heart until Christmas Eve day, so the house was a wreck, we had company coming, and I had yet to make the dinner.  So our outfits definitely left something to be desired (ha, just check out our "sashes"-- old tights, we have plenty of those).  And I didn't comb any one's hair, either.  But it was the thought that counted.

Again the kids and I made this bread together.  It's not as hard as it looks and they loved helping me braid it.  And man alive, that stuff is good.  (I linked to a recipe from Smitten Kitchen, but I used a recipe from America's Test Kitchen Family Cookbook)  In a way, it was nice to have a mini-cultural lesson aside from the Christmas thing altogether.

I was really nervous about asking guests to sit on the floor and eat with their hands.  But they were very good sports.  And my kids just loved sitting on the floor and eating with their hands for once!  And I shut off the lights and lit a few candles, and they loved that too. Christmas gets so crazy with all the things that start to seem like must-haves.  Including the fancy tree and presents.  Yet sitting on the floor, eating basic food with our hands, remembering the humble circumstances surrounding what I want my kids to see as the real reasons for our celebrating Christmas (this is just my family!  Christmas can mean different things to different people, or maybe your family celebrates Hanukkah or Kwanzaa).  It brought the simplicity home.  And that special Christmas feeling sunk into all hearts.  And it brought so much into perspective-- just how much we have to be thankful for.  (we joked that at least we weren't sitting on a dirt floor outside!)

When we were finished we watched these beautiful Luke 2 videos. 

Things got really quiet and a little more somber, for lack of a better word.  I knew they were thinking.  The Spirit of Christmas was really strong and quiet.

We exchanged our little handmade gifts.

 And we topped it off by having pie and milk in the kitchen.

O Holy Night.

This dinner was my idea, my husband is supporting me by making sure people feel authentic.  If a brown or pink towel make you feel authentic.

It's a good thing I'm taken, or I'm sure they'd be knockin' down the door about now after seeing me in this photo.

 My father-in-law graciously accepted the task of making this dish.  Probably much more "authentic" than I would have.  He is a great cook-- it was yummy.

 Huh!  Didn't notice Bob Cratchit carrying his little Tiny Tim in the bottom of this photo until now.  Perfect for Christmas Eve dinner.

 Paper plates extra authentic, too.

 And a little boy who is much more interested in cup stacking than dinner.  Maybe the tights around his waist have affected his appetite.

Funny Little Sayings, Take 22

Some funny little sayings around here lately.

E., who is now 19 months (not fair, going too fast I tell you), and who has never been interested in more than a lick of TV (5 minutes his whole life), has suddenly become obsessed with Bob the Builder.  He usually finishes out the night in our bed, or I finish out the night on the floor next to his bed, so I know the first things that come out of that little cute mouth.  One morning, while he was still in the act of sitting up, bleary-eyed, he said: “Bob!  Maia.”  Then he ran breathlessly off to his sister’s room, found her in bed and said “Maia!  Bob!  ‘Mon! (come on!)” with the cutest little fingers- curling-toward-his-little-chubby-wrist gesture.  He has learned to enlist his sisters any time he wants to watch “Bob,” which is a lot.  The morning after his first Bob awakening, the first thing out of his mouth was “YEH HE TAN! ("yes he can!" from “can he fix it?  Yes he can!”...said right before he tumbled off the bed to go find his sister)  Right now he swaps out all his “c” sounds for “t” sounds, so car is “tar,” you get the picture.  It is so stinkin’ cute. 

My three year-old had a dream that she grew a mustache and couldn’t remove it.  Then she ate a red  tortilla chip and her whole body turned red (not her clothes, she said with great emphasis, just her skinnn).   She turned purple when she ate a purple chip; even the underside of her tongue was purple.  This is the same child who just asked for a bow and arrow for her birthday (more later this week). :)

This same three year-old, taking a cue from her older sister, asked for a pony for Christmas.  When I gave her the same answer I had given her sister (maniacal laugh), she said "okay, then, I'll take a baby horse.  Not a wicked (she is the one who added the emphasis, not me) baby horse, a nice baby horse, that I can ride on." (where in the world did she learn the word "wicked"?)

This very same girl, just last night, prayed that she wouldn't have any bad dreams-- she prayed that she would only have dreams about something cute or funny.  Just moments before, in our family prayer, she prayed that her tooth wouldn't "get blood."  Thats it, the end.  The bloody tooth was the whole prayer. (sisters with minor flossing trauma a few minutes beforehand)

My nine year-old is getting over a case of strep throat, poor girl.  When we drove to the pharmacy, she noticed a new building being erected.  She asked me what it was for.  Then she said, “don’t they know they are killing like 40,000 animals?  ……Including the fleas?”  I didn’t know that she cared about the plight of animals or fleas, for that matter, or connected the dots in regards to building and animals, but I was pretty impressed. (maybe she witnessed me hyper ventilating when we went for a beautiful drive along some wetlands and saw a bunch of duck hunters carrying whole giant burlap bags full of dead ducks!  I couldn't handle this sight--ducks?  Why ducks?  But not to worry, gatekeeper man told us, there is a plethora of ducks because we are taking all of their habitats, so they would be dead anyway....stab me to the heart, why don't ya?  Ducks?  I love ducks!  Go ahead and kill the deer (with moderation, mind you, and then only if you are going to eat them), but not the ducks!  My husband had a good laugh at my expense, seeing as this was my first time even realizing that real, modern people hunted ducks by the dozen like that)

I'm kind of a softie when it comes to killing things (see here.)

Well Filling

Night was falling, and in that sweet blue-ish haze, the moon was clear and bright; I was driving in my little car with the windows down as people switched on the glow of electric lights that diffused golden stars through the twilit night.  Frank Sinatra was singing to a brass band "Fly Me to the Moon."  I had chosen to leave my kids home with my husband while I ran to the store for a few minutes; it refreshed me and reminded me of the list I'd started about things that fill my well, things that keep it full so I can keep trying each day to be a better parent.  Some of the things on my list surprised me:

1.  Time alone
2.  Volunteering at the school
3.  Travel
4.  Exercise
5.  Spending quality time with my kids
6.  Dates with husband
7.  Reading a good book
8.  Blogging
9.  Nostalgia of old pictures/videos
10. Feeling pretty
11.  Being in remote natural places like the mountains or the beach
12.  Playing games late at night with extended family....we love Wildlife Adventure :)
13.  Laughing (see here)...I get a huge lift from listening to Car Talk on NPR just because the guys are so fun, and not because I'm that interested in cars.
14.  Time with friends
15.  Organizing something
16.  Cleaning or cooking can be enjoyable if the circumstances are right
17.  Having a clean house
18.  Any humanitarian work or service
19.  I just learned that I love being involved at the caucus level in politics!  Feel like John Adams for a day while still being a mom the rest of the time. 
20.  Listening to/reading great journalism.  (ie, Wall Street Journal)
21.  Going to church & having a close relationship with God.
22.  Building and using talents-- music is a big one for me

The reason I'm surprised by some of these is that I typically think of well-re-fillers as requiring little work or giving me time away from my responsibilities, but I've noticed that doing meaningful things, like service or time with the kids, actually gives me a huge jolt of happiness and the motivation to be better (if done with balance). 

As part of my project this month I'm working on getting more organized so I can clear the way for some of the more fun things on my list.  I've noticed that organization plays a big part in how positive I can be with my kids: on crazy days or in chaotic moments its much harder to be patient and kind.

What unexpected thing fills your well?

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!)

Family Night - Hard Work

This month I tried to think about how to help my kids really value work.  I thought back in my own life to an experience that changed my heart about the value of work.

I have pushed this part of my past aside often because I regret having spent so much time on sports.  I wish I'd spent it on something that lasted a little longer, like school. 

So my kids have rarely heard me talk about these experiences.  I dug out some old mementos I'd saved in dusty cardboard boxes that smelled of yellow paper and the past.

I gave them each one of these things to hold (my husband was working late). 

They were so cute, my little 3 wanted the "necklace," and promptly put it on, and others turned the papers or jar over in their hands with wondering looks.

I told them the story of a little girl who was once the worst player on her soccer team.  She was also the one panting the hardest at the back of the pack any time conditioning or longer distance running were done, resenting every minute of it.  Yes, it was me. 

Then one day, in high school, she read an article about a young cross country runner named Rosy Gardner (full article here), who worked so hard the football coaches at her high school often wished they could pour some of her energy and grit into their players.  She did two-a-days, her first one at 5:20 am each day, rain or shine.  At one point, a trainer had to practically physically carry her to get her feet looked at -- she had peeled off blood-encrusted socks (from blisters) in preparation to run (again) with her team that day (I admired this a lot at the time, ha ha).  Not only that, but Gardner was a pleasant, humble, well-liked student.

I was so inspired by this story as a young teenage athlete that I cut out the article and kept the front page pinned to my bedroom wall or bulletin board for several years.  It inspired me to work harder.  I improved so much in soccer that I went from the worst on my team to second-team all state.

In track, I tried to imitate Rosy by pulling two-a-days and doing gut wrenching work-outs, even in the rain or on holidays.  My senior year, I counted down the last 100 days with little white papers taped to my closet door to remind me of how little time I really had to prepare for the state championship.  Each day, I'd pull down a paper and write down what I did for training that day.  Then I put them in a jar.

When the Regional Championships came around, I toted my little Tang bottle with me to the meet for moral support.  If nothing else, I knew I had given my all.   I knew I was racing someone who ran two seconds better than my best time (that is a lot).  When we rounded the bend, 200 meters into our 300, I was ahead of her but she started to pull up as if to pass me.  I gritted my teeth, the days running in the rain, the times of sacrifice, alone in the early dark, practicing hurdles until I had bruises all over my knees-- all these flashed through my mind, and I hung tight.  Clearing that last hurdle took the last ounce of my strength.  I won by a tiny bit, beating my best time by two seconds.  That day, I stood on the stand in the "1" position for the first time.

More than that, I knew that no matter the outcome I had won, because I had bettered myself and done all I could do.  My proudest achievement was not to be known as the fastest runner, but as someone who wasn't trying in every way possible to cut corners, but as someone who gave her all.  (this is good to remember!  I can do it!  I can work hard!)

Here is a poem I wrote in high school about the overall experience:


The Road

Silently
the footsteps fall
on the wet pavement,
The snow
Beats a slow
Rhythm
On a veiled world,
The streetlight
Illuminates the quiet darkness
As the feet move
Slowly on.
Days turn into weeks,
Yet the slow footsteps
Continue through
The moods of the season,
Drawing strength from
Their silent pilgrimage.
The steps retreat for a moment
And record forever
The image of a blue-gold sky
And the snow
Falling
In the mountains.
I ran the road
Alone,
Expecting only
To conquer myself.
The work
And the sacrifice
And the moments of silent repose
Are mine
Forever.


My kids were strangely quiet as I related these events and had one of them read the poem.

I told them my wish for them would be not to do what I had done, by pouring their best efforts and energies into sports and competitiveness (though these have their place), but into school and service.   I told them that working hard would be one of the most important things they will ever learn.

Then we had a closing prayer.  My little nine year-old said a sweet, thoughtful prayer, and closed it with "and we're thankful that Mom is our mom."