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?  

Happy Birthday to Me

This picture just makes my heart melt.  And my frosting.  And my candle wax.  And just in case you are wondering, those cute little sticking out candles correctly represent my age-- the big 3-6.

I've been having a little mini mid-life crisis (nothing major, I promise) over the last few months, though I haven't mentioned it to anyone.  I have never had a mid-life crisis before, this is a first for me. :)

Up until this year, I always told myself that relatively speaking, I was still young (and still am! I hope to live to a ripe old age).  That I have lots of opportunities still ahead.  And I have reminded myself of all the people who have accomplished important things in their 30's and beyond (this woman inspires me!).  But for some reason, turning that leaf over into the upper 30's has had me panicking a bit.

It doesn't help that I have started having arthritis in my hands.  I wondered why my joints frequently felt achy and stiff until it hit me that I am already getting arthritis.  Ug!  Already?

But seeing my kiddos being so sweet and thoughtful makes me realize that it has all been worth it.  (remember last year?)  Aren't they so sweet?



Here for your laughing pleasure, a poem I wrote the night before my 30th birthday.  I never have been able to tweak it quite enough to like it (except for the end), but you get the picture. :)  Any suggestions appreciated, as always.  :)


On the Eve of My Thirtieth Birthday

I held you till you fell asleep

Your little body curled up to mine--

Still.

Then, reluctant arms

Put you to rest;

I looked over to

Your sister, sleeping

Like an angel

In her three year-old

Dreams.

When I looked in on

The big(ger) boy,

His legs propped like the poles of a tent,

Red cheeks from the uncomfortable heat

Of winter colds.

I held his hand for a minute

Or fifteen,

Smoothed his soft-straw hair,

Remembering our

Buddy-hood.

Felt his little heart beating in his chest,

Remembering the first time I heard

That sound,

An inauguration into the most

Beautiful

Awe

Of Motherhood.

Organization Update (Again?)

(Great read.  -- hey, it even works for Halloween! ha--  More about this book next week)

Um, I'm supposed to be organizing this month, and what I'm learning is that it is hard to get organized when I am unorganized!  Ha.

I sat in front of my computer on Monday and all was blank.  So I'm going to hunker down right now (I know my month should be over already!  aaaaaagggh!) and finish what I started, like, six weeks ago. 

I'm glad I didn't finish, though, because I've gotten some new insights on planning/organization.

It's all well and good to get organized and try to maximize one's day.  But what I've gotten here and here and here (see Of Regrets and Resolutions-- awesome!) is a little perspective.  There are so many good things to choose from in life.  Wouldn't it be nice if we could choose all of them.  And isn't there a lot of pressure right now to do it all?  As a culture we are infected with hurry sickness, myself included, to squeeze in as much as possible into life.  But what are we trying to squeeze in?  How much will the things we do today really matter when life is done?

Is more really better?  More toys just add more work in clutter.  More activities make us rush around with little time to think or connect or see other people around us that might need our help.

So as I prepare to attack my schedule and planning, I'm also going to be focusing on what to cut out.  Off the top of my head, I think I could check Facebook less (all the political updates are driving me crazy anyway) and substitute some real face time with people I care about.  Trying to stave off my continous snack attack would give me more time and a smaller waistline.  :)  Even if I give up one little five minute time waster (ahem, Instagram), I can make those five minutes meaningful to one of my children.

During a recent event, I found that all my children were happily occupied and I found myself beckoned by some beautiful craggy autumn trees through some underbrush to the bank of a small river, that glinted orange and yellow in the lazy afternoon sunlight.  I remembered -pause- that somewhere under the busy mom is a person who had (wait, has!) goals and dreams for my life.  I realized I need to be alone more often-- for a little clarity, in my own life and so I can better help those in my care.  Then one minute later my cute husband and baby came trundling along behind me, with little happy smiles on their faces.  Happy sigh.  Alone time over, but I'm lucky to have these dear people to keep me running!  I just need to make sure I'm running where I want to go, enjoying the journey, and not just the destination.

What do you cut out of your schedule in order to simplify?  What is your favorite quiet moment?  And how do you fend off guilt when you say "no?"   

As a side note, you can get I Never Planned to be a Witch (Eyre)-- I think-- for free on the Power of Moms website if you sign up for emails.  I have a link in my sidebar.  It is an encouraging, simple book that I really enjoyed and felt inspired by. 

These Are My Jewels, Um, Designer Jeans-- What Mothers Sacrifice

I've been thinking a lot lately about a favorite talk of mine.  It's like a mini-parenting Bible condensed into a few wise words.  The man who gave it felt like a father to me, even though I had never met him.  But I learned so many things from his wise counsel and his warmth and his wittiness (learning just as much in a different way, from this man right now).  When he died, it took me a long time to get over missing him, as it were.

Okay, I'm already off the subject! And I haven't even started!

In his talk, These, Our Little Ones, Gordon Hinkley tells of a woman, who, in Rome, was sitting with some women as they compared their jewels with one another.  When asked, a widow named Cornelia answered, gesturing at her children, "these are my jewels."  They grew up to be the Graachi, two of the "most effective and persuasive reformers in Roman history (here)."  All because their mom loved them and believed that her most important job was being their mother. 

All of us give up things to be a mother (even the very worst mothers give up something!).  One day I realized, that while I love this story, I am not in the slightest bit tempted by jewels.  Every year as the holidays roll around and those touchy-feely commercials come on about someone who went to "Jared," I always gag, bleuch.  The last thing I would want my husband to spend a bunch of money on is an expensive jewel necklace that would soon be lost or broken.  (now the gorgeous earrings my sister brought me from Australia, that I wear every day, are an exception!)

So I thought....what are my jewels?  What do I choose to give up in my mothering for the well-being of my children?  (this is so different for everyone!  what may be a jewel for someone is a much needed well-filler for someone else!)

Okay, here is my short (long) list:  more education (some day!).   Wearing designer clothes.  Or even something that is not old or needs to be ironed!  Wearing dresses (see below!  I actually got to wear a dress last Sunday, didn't notice it had spots on it until I looked at the picture!  ha ha).  Since I have been nursing, I compute at the moment, a total of nearly 8 of the last 11 years, this means I have had to give up dresses for now.  A full night's sleep.  Ugly legs due to my varicose veins from pregnancy.  Travel.  Piano  (I still get some travel and piano in limited doses). Learning how to make quilts and other sundry DIY projects.  A clean, chaos-free house and a weed-free yard!  Money.  To buy new cars instead of used ones, wait less than 12 years for new couches :).  Alone time.  Enough said.  Humanitarian aid -- there is so much I want to do!  Tending to my basic needs, like eating, sleeping, and using the bathroom. 

YET.  I feel way more than compensated for those things I have given up.  I feel more beautiful knowing I have sacrificed for someone else.  I feel smarter having had the opportunity of explaining the world to my little ones.  My perspective has changed so much-- making my life of movies and malls and cards with my husband before kids sound so empty and dull (and we sure appreciate each date now!  For more about how motherhood has changed my perspective, see here).  I wouldn't trade that good night's sleep for watching my beautiful child, who has grown with my nourishment and care, sleep like a little angel.

I didn't mean for this post to be so long.

Here are a couple of poems on this subject:

Italian Lake
You are the trip I did not take,
You are the pearls I cannot buy;
You are my blue Italian Lake;
You are my piece of foreign sky.
-- Anne Campbell

And my own version, which I thought would be easy, and funny, and wasn't either.

My Italian Lake
You are my supermodel legs
You are my Nobel prize;
You are my full night's sleep,
You're what money can't buy.

Isn't it true, though?  When life is done, will we care about the jewels or the pearls or the designer jeans?  Or have the ultimate satisfaction of knowing what we did was most important.  Money can't buy that.

Hence, this on our wall (too bad not only can I not spell "important," I didn't even notice my mistake for over a year!  Guess it's not imporant.)

What are your "jewels?"  This is so different for everyone, because we still need things that fill our own well, so we have enough to give.

A Perfect Day

I had an epiphany yesterday about what perfection is and what it isn't.

I'm continuously trying to juggle many things.  Sometimes, there are multiples items or people that need my attention right now. 

I used to think perfection, as in everything being perfect all at once-- every one's hair combed, a clean house, delicious healthy dinners, volunteer work, children who've had plenty of quality time playing together like little angels -- was possible.   Then I heard this guy talk about balance, how if we're doing one thing we can't possibly being doing another at the same time (not to say we can't be efficient multi-taskers, but there is still only so much we can do at once).  Which means if I'm out on the golf course perfecting my golf swing, I can't simultaneously be home cleaning and cooking the perfect meal.

Perfection is really...balance; the meaning of balance changing as our circumstances and abilities do.  It's knowing what to prioritize and focus on, sometimes from moment to moment. 

My perfect day today included going to school with no make-up, a shirt with a toothpaste spot on it, and a cute monarch butterfly princess with a tangled mess of blond hair so we could get those teachers their thank you gifts before it was too late; leaving my blog to tidy up before the kids got home; choosing to sit with my son and chat about his day when he said "come on Mom, lets talk about petty things," (he wants to buy a pet) while he enjoyed some last-day-of-school ice cream (I wanted to make cookies, but you know how that turned out) ; choosing to change, feed, and change and feed again--my baby who had woken up unexpectedly; choosing to let everyone entertain themselves for a few minutes while I blogged. 

...Choosing to pull together some leftovers for dinner and tidy up the kitchen before my husband got home; spending a few minutes going through papers my kids brought home from school.  Choosing to leave my dishes so I could snuggle up with my three and six year-old and read stories in jammas.  Stepping over my pile of laundry to rock and sing to my baby, then gaze in wonder at my perfect sleeping creation.  Then coming back to the laundry and dishes for a few minutes, spending a few with my husband, and then off to bed so I can have enough energy for tomorrow. 

If you looked at my life from the outside, you'd see all sorts of imperfect things:  you would have seen a mom with no make-up and a faded shirt with an uncombed child at the school, Miracle Gro waiting on my porch for the third day in a row, toys scattered about, fingerprints on the windows.  But just because it may not look perfect all the time, doesn't mean I didn't do what my perfect was that day.  I wish I could have it all, but the reality is, I have to choose, many times between lots of good things.  And I want to focus on the things that last-- the ones that will make a real difference to my little people and my husband.  Some days that will mean choosing the laundry or the dishes in order to keep balance. But most days, I want to make sure I'm putting first things first: God, husband, kids.  It may not always be pretty, but it can be perfect.  My kind of perfect.

Some links:  Balance and Good, Better, Best