Short and Sweet

I was awakened in the middle of the night by a little dripping apparition who said, "mom, I frowed up strawberry ice cream all over my bed."  (we made homemade strawberry ice cream yesterday)  The nice thing was, I got to clean the mess up in the night without any interruptions and some quiet time to think.  :)

I have three sick kiddos today, and I feel I'm catching it, so I'm off to nap with baby. :)

Some ideas I had for positive affirmation, kids: write little notes and leave under pillow or in lunches.

Start off the day on a positive note: sing in the morning (idea from Happiness Project's Rubin, who says it puts her and kids in a good mood.

A parting thought about well-filling-- I've lost 5 pounds, my friend even noticed, and so did my husband.  I feel a lot better mentally and physically.  (still have 15 to go, though)

I'm more efficient in the morning now that I'm getting up earlier.  (just need to go to bed on time...so hard some days but definitely helps my patience levels)

Got a few new clothes at a local discount retailer.  It saved me money and time because I didn't have to drive downtown and I got some nice clothes for a big discount.  Its amazing how much cuter I feel when I have a new shirt or two.

Sing to Me, Baby

We were walking the aisles of our local grocery store, just me and my boys and a mini-shopping cart.   We laughed while we searched for free samples while the radio echoed above us-- a song I didn't know.  I had my lovely fashionable yellow scout shirt on, and my son had on his khaki one, which has blossomed with awards over the last few years.  He is getting so tall I can comfortably rest an arm on his shoulders.  With one arm around him (while he pushed the cart), and the other holding my squishable baby, I felt so great.  It was the end of a long few days, culminating in an urgent care/pizza night/rush off-to-pack-meeting evening.   I finally had antibiotics in my hand (again!) so my sweet baby can get over another ear infection (third in three months).  We laughed when we struck out on the pizza samples (darn), and I was suddenly possessed with the urge to twirl my boys around for a minute.  My ten year old, who is getting to the embarrassed stage, laughed and didn't seem embarrassed.  My baby's hair fluttered in the fake wind, his head tipped back, his little smile revealing tiny white baby teeth.

And it got me thinking about songs that make me feel positive about my kids or songs that help them feel my love or belief in them.  I'm not up on the latest music, so these are just a few I can think of:

1) You'll Be in My Heart (Phil Collins) from Tarzan -- this is my new favorite
2)  Just The Way You Are (Bruno Mars) - alone with him in the aisle, held my baby close and danced to this one in the grocery store when he was only two weeks old, trying to freeze time
3)  Baby Mine (from the CD Baby Mine)
4)  Lullabye (Goodnight My Angel) from the same CD (see here for a video that makes me cry!)

In light of my positive words time coming to a close soon, too quickly, I'm starting a new resolution-- I've wanted to do it forever, and I'm tired of waiting!  :)  I'm going to start singing to my children each night before bed.  I've already asked my hubby for extra help.  I don't think I can sing to each child every night, so I'm going to start with one per night, with a little short (5 min) chat afterward.  I hope this will help convey to them how much I love them.

I would love to add more to my positive words song playlist!  I'm sure you have some great suggestions!  Tell me.

Images of Childhood

I have to admit, before the weekend hit, I hit a wall.  I started thinking of all the things I could do with the extra time I've been spending with my kids.  Then we went to my parents for a couple of days, and had such a refreshing time, and it was so nice having some extra hands to help, hands that love the kids unconditionally too.  At one point, Isa was swinging on a bouncy polka-dot pogo stick hung from a tree.  Her face was filled with pure childlike happiness, and I realized I wanted to memorize this moment-- while all my kids are innocent and little.  Watch this from Gretchen Rubin about how "the days are long but the years are short."

I loved watching them play together and help each other.

Some day I'm even going to miss watching this little cutie wipe her nose on her shirt!

Picnic

I just love these guys. 

I realized that in my effort to speak more positively, I was driving myself crazy trying to remember all the new "rules" I'd learned about how to talk to kids. 

I'm still trying to do those things, but I realized the most important ingredient is love.  If they feel loved, I think they will forgive my imperfect parenting. 

After all, this project is about helping them reach their full potential, and feel loved, important, useful, and not about me and my parenting skills, or lack thereof.  :)

Dad

I hope you'll tolerate this little diversion from my project for a minute as I think about my dad. What I love about him most: empathy, time, and example.  He did the little things: fixed my knick-knacks, taught me how to ride a bike (I promptly rode straight into a thorn bush), read stories, showed me flowers peeking out of chocolate dirt in the spring, played Atari with me :), played kick-the-can with the cousins on a warm summer night; inspired me with his devotion and his words; showed me how to be gentle with living things; treated me as if I were worth it all.  I never felt like a burden to him, but I felt his belief in me, his fierce pride and devotion.  I lived to be like my dad.  The worst I ever felt was when I let him down.  In a day when men are taught and teach to be tough, don't cry-- I could always cry to my dad. 

Some day when the records are shown and all has been weighed and measured, the greatest deeds will not be the ones done in a stadium, or at a podium, or be celebrated in a trophy case.  Some day those with earthly monuments and medals and glory will honor the courage of the dad who quietly sung night-time songs, soothed nightmares, and cheered for little girls.

If you have any suggestions for improvements on my poems, they are welcome. :)  Thanks for reading!  (Note: I must make a nod to Robert Frost, who wrote one of my favorite poems, The Road Not Taken.  The final line in this poem is very nearly an exact quote of the final line in his poem. ) (Note #2: the roads I'm referring to in this post are near where my parents live, and a little sentimental to me since I've visited my parents there with my dear little ones for years, but my parents will be moving soon.  I've had many happy moments there...esp. since at home I get to plod along on my treadmill :))


The High Road

I used to run on the

Black road

Toward the high school

As cars whooshed by.

Then my dad

Showed me

His favorite road,

High above the valley,

An overgrown path

Next to a canal

With trees bending down

To drink the water.

I had to climb to get there,

But I loved

Its tawny-honey-yellow leaves in fall,

Its swirls,

The way specks of sun

Glint off the water.

In lazy summer,

A mother duck splashed out of the grass

And her babies followed: pop, pop, pop, pop.

I went there in the spring,

Carpet fluorescing with green

And new insect life.

And in winter,

Crunching white snow

As bare-boned branches

Scratched the sky.

Now I've been there in all the seasons,

Ran with sister, laughing and talking,

Walked there with husband,

New life inside me, (threw up in the grass)

Traipsed with little legs till the

Bend in the path.

But mostly alone,

Thinking, sorting, becoming.

And last,

Meadows of grass skirting

Wooded mountains,

And a little hollow,
Where I felt so much

The nearness of

God,

And awareness of my need for His help,

I knelt down (twice)

And prayed

In the middle of my run.

My dad showed me a higher

Way,

And it has made all the

Difference.

This Sounds a Bit Fishy

I'm having a busy week for some odd reason :), highlights of today including a very dramatic fish story. 

I went to pick up my six year old from a birthday party last night; I wandered into the backyard, which was lit by tall mini-torches in the late afternoon sun and decorated with the sounds of little girls.  There was a large blue plastic pool painted with bright tropical fish, and, to my surprise, it was full of tiny goldfish.   My six year old stood ankle deep in the water looking for just the right fish to take home.  My friend handed me ~surprise~ a clear plastic bag filtered by the sun...inside was a little fish that peered at me through the bag with small black eyes and a silvery gulping mouth. 

When we got home, everyone crowded around to peer into our makeshift fish bowl  (I caught one child trying to put her fish in a cornflake bowl and another who grabbed a dark green cider bottle from his bottle collection before we pulled out a flower vase).  Everyone was eager to feed the fish all sorts of goodies before we could go buy some fish food.  Someone even placed her special "shells" from this day in the tank for the fish to look at.

At one point, I found a little brown nugget floating on top of our "fish bowl" that looked suspiciously like a piece of animal poop.  When I quizzed my cute little six, she said "I just found it where we found the rocks!  It's not poop, I promise!"  It was, incidentally, a piece of deer feces that she didn't know the identity of and that she had collected and saved with her rocks on the aforementioned day several weeks ago, unbeknownst to me.

This morning, she was up bright and early to feed her fish large chunks of soon-to-be soggy bread and her fish were soon-to-be-dead.  Poor little thing cried and cried.  She sat in her bright blue polka dot dress and sang to the one remaining fish (we started with four) a sweet little song while making fish movements with her two hands pressed together.  Later we had a little fish burial in the gravelly dirt of the backyard.  Sang an irreverent version of a child's song (I Am a Fishy of God-- luckily I'm not struck down yet) and said a little prayer, since we had exactly three minutes to have our little funeral and get my older daughter somewhere.

Later in the day, we traipsed to the pet store with uncombed hair and purchased a little round bowl, some food, and some new friends for our lone fish.  There are now chairs pulled up in our kitchen around the island where peering, delighted eyes watch little fish glub-glubbing in a clear bowl.  There have been some happy sighs, some "It's been so long since I've had a pet," and even one "where are we going to keep the fish bowl?"  A boy, last to bed, longingly looking at flitting fish, a little girl, first to rise, sitting on the counter, gazing with wide green eyes at them.  Hmmmm.... who knew in 24 hours and we'd gain four surprise pets, lose three, gain two more.  A good lesson in math and pets we never knew we wanted.

 Today I found two nightgown-clad girls at the computer, compiling a list of names for their fish from a baby naming website.  :)

Funny video of my six year old singing to her fish here.