Mother's Day: One-Memory-a-Day Journal

My children are growing fast...way too fast. And they do cute and funny little things every day, which I am already forgetting. 

So I gave myself an early little Mother's Day gift this year: a One-Memory-a-Day Journal.

Confession: I am a wanna-be journaler. Truth be told, I am actually a wanna-be Memory-Keeper in several areas. Don't ask me how far my children's Baby books have progressed (one is unopened!) or how my scrapbooks are going (the photos are all there in Photoshop...not printed, not laid out digitally for a Photobook...just waiting...) And even my great intent to keep separate journals for the kids of all their funny antics is basically still a pile of notes on calendars that I need to get around to copying over to actual journals...

But this one is different. It's not intimidating at all. The goal is to write at least one sentence from the day. It keeps track of all the sweet little happenings that may not be Big Firsts or hilarious stories to share at future family get-togethers...just happy memories our family will cherish reading when the kids are grown.

I grabbed a little journal at Staples and started it May 1. So far, I'm still on track!

If you have young children or need a gift idea for a new or young Mom for Mother's Day, give her a cute journal with the instructions to jot One little Memory a day.  She will love it forever!

Learning From the Past: Potty Training Re-Visited.

I realize now that although many things become easier and simpler as my kids get older, other things become more complicated, because we are always at the mercy of time.  My first 2 kids were potty-trained before or by age 2, and although I like to think it is in part because of the mature capabilities and genius of my little ones, it probably also had a lot to do with the fact that we spent about 3 weeks mostly at home preventing accidents and learning how everything works.  

With kid #3, everything is different. I don't have 3 weeks to stay home and sit with him and clean up messes, so I keep putting it off.  We have to take Griffin to school and pick him up in the afternoon. We have errands to run and church and there is never a day when we can just sit at home.  Potty training has definitely been on the back-burner, even though I despise diapers and I think he is ready.

Last week we finally found time to make some progress in this area, and I remembered the following blog that I wrote several years ago while potty-training my daughter.  Hopefully nothing like this has happened to you before and we haven't had anything this nasty happen around here since.  Even the neatest housekeeper and most organized mommy has to clean up a BIG mess every now and then. Hopefully you don't ever feel alone! Enjoy :)

When you run poopy pants through the washing machine, none of the clothes get clean.

(From January 14, 2009)

So, if you opened this hoping to find a political metaphor or a symbolic story, then you might want to stop reading now. Unfortunately, the title of this blog is a very literal statement about what just happened to a small load of laundry that is currently enjoying a 3rd soak and rinse in extremely hot water.

As a stay at home mom to two active toddlers, my life is rarely dull. Just when things start slipping into some sort of routine, I like to shake in a dash of something or other to keep us from getting bored. When Christmas ended and we rang in the New Year, I thought it would be the best time to introduce my 22 month old to a lovely diaper-free world. A world of cotton, toilets, rewards and being a “big girl.” It was all very exciting.

I started out using many of the same methods that had worked with my son when he was about her age, and everything was progressing beautifully. New Princess underwear? Yippee! A Pez in my Sleeping Beauty Pez dispenser whenever I go on the Potty? Hooray! Flushing the big potty all by myself? Oh, the joy. With only a few minor setbacks in the first 4 days, I began feeling confident. I could hear the extra cash already coming in from the money we would save from diapers. We would be able to pay for college. We could cut back to only eating 2 meals a week off the dollar menu instead of 3. I might be able to afford a drink from Starbucks. I was free of the bondage of changing tables and diaper rash, and my daughter was walking around with a new diaper-free swagger.

Just when I thought I would be receiving my award for “Best Potty-Trainer 2009,” we began to hit a series of set-backs that involved wet pants, mysterious spots on the floor and couch, and little things that fall on the floor that nobody wants to touch with their bare hands. I did a lot of laundry and used some SPOT SHOT--which I should really advertise for them, because that stuff is amazing—and we were learning from our mistakes.

After several great days in a row, we were on track and moving forward again. Then yesterday she had a tough little accident; we were both disappointed as I dumped the mess in the big potty and threw the dirty underwear in the laundry. Since I had just done two loads earlier in the day, I left them in there, waiting until there was a full load; I have two toddlers and typically need a Sherpa and supplemental oxygen to reach the top of my clean laundry pile.

Now my story gets ugly and confusing. When I passed through the laundry room on my way out with the kids this morning, I noticed the laundry room smelled rather raunchy, but I knew there was messy stuff in there and hoped the Spray-N-Wash was working. When I returned this afternoon, I decided it was time to run the wash, whether or not the load was full, so I put in a few random dirty things and turned it on.

I finally got the kids down for a nap and heard the washing machine beep that it was done, so I went out and opened the lid. Let's just say the lovely “Tide” aroma that I was expecting was not there, and I couldn't believe what was scattered all over the bottom of my washing machine and mixed in with my clean laundry. As I quickly grabbed an old bag and some wipes and did my best to get rid of everything that wasn't an article of clothing from the wet wash, I realized that I had not only kissed my “Best Potty-Trainer” award goodbye, but I must be a horrible housewife and mother. Who runs a load of laundry with poopy pants???

So, as I sit here reflecting on all that has happened this afternoon, wondering how many times I will have to wash the clothes before they are truly clean, if they are in fact ever really clean, I can assure you I will be checking multiple times before casually throwing anything into washing machine from now on, and laughing at myself for thinking that something like Potty-training could ever be simple and sanitary.

Being Here Now

When my husband and I were first married, some wise mentor-friends challenged us with this advice:      Be Here Now.

I often forget to live in the present. I think, I will be happy with our house when we finally have new furniture. Or, I long for when I can sleep through the night without a hungry baby waking me. Or, I can't wait until I don't have to clean up spills under the kitchen table after every meal.

Really, those thoughts wish away precious time. I don't want to waste the moments I have with my husband, with my sweet children at today's stage of life.

We had kind of an impromptu family afternoon yesterday...loading up our bikes, renting a kid trailer for the younger two, and hitting a bike trail together as a family. It was wonderful, active family fun. My six-year-old was so excited about a real bike ride..not just the driveway.

Near the end of our trail, we stopped at a playground to let the little ones burn off some energy. As I watched them run from slide to swing to climbing wall to spinning toy with utter joy on their faces, I thought...they are totally living this moment. Children know how to Be Here Now. They put their All into their play, into this instant of time.

I think I forgot as I grew up. I was too busy looking ahead to the next achievement or event.

I'm trying to be better...to Be Here Now for my family. Not always looking ahead to the next stage, the next vacation, the next purchase. But to enjoy the simple pleasures of each day. The shared lunch, the interesting bug in the front yard, yet another game of Uno, the old furniture that is plenty comfy for cuddling together to read or talk.

Take hold of the moments that are Today.

Whereas ye know not what shall be on the morrow. For what is your life? It is even a vapour, that appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away. James 4:14

Dry Erase Framed Scripture "Art"

Kitchen time...most of us probably haven't calculated how many hours we spend there a month, but I'm sure it's staggering! I figured those hours at the kitchen sink could probably be spent more productively than mentally redecorating my living room for the 800th time...


So I took a little inspiration I saw on Pinterest, and decided to create a quick little frame that would help me meditate on Scripture or pray for my kids while chopping veggies or scrubbing pots.
All it took was an old 8x10 wood frame I had in a closet, a sheet of scrapbook paper, and some spray paint.
 
First, I primed and painted the wood frame. The sticks underneath are to keep it from sticking to the plastic as the paint dries.


My other soon-to-be-patented tip is to use a plastic baggie (if no gloves handy) to keep your fingers clean...spray paint is sticky stuff on the skin.

Meanwhile I cleaned the glass and cut a sheet of pretty paper to fit exactly in the frame.
 
Once the frame was dry, I assembled the paper, glass and frame. Then I grabbed a dry erase marker and wrote out a verse that I want to remember all through my day.
Super easy! A damp paper towel will erase the marker, and the color of the paper can be changed up in a snap if I want variety. In hindsight, a 5x7 frame would be better countertop size...so I won't put away the spray paint quite yet.


Praying this will help me seize some of those little “nothing” minutes that can add up to hours of time!

Fresh Mud Pie Ingredients.

If you are a hard-core follower of The Mud Pie Makers, then by now you know our goal is to take hold of each day, to create memories, to play with our kids—to attempt to see the world through their eyes. 

It is an ambitious goal.

How do we achieve this on a daily basis? How is this lofty objective broken down in the form of hours and minutes while the world blurs by, while our kids go from diapers to graduation gowns in the blink of an eye?

We often make our resolutions in January.  But for me, Fall is a time to start things new. School starts, everything is in a state of fresh schedules and attempted organization; we are already in the midst of transition. What can we do this Fall to take hold of each day? Are there a few small goals I can set? Can I prioritize and manage my time better to achieve these goals?

In my long, long, long list of “mommy improvements,” I have personally selected two areas of concentration for this Fall. I have really noticed  a weakness in these specific areas already since the school year began—perhaps you can relate.  My own mommy improvement goals are to listen better and to be more a more active parent. Over the course of the past few years, in the busy-ness of life, I have picked up a few bad habits! 

Listening.

If you are anything like me, it is easy to tune out the white noise that begins early in the morning when we are scrambling to get food in mouths and clothes on backs. The white noise comes in a variety of little voices; they are usually telling me something that can “wait until later” while I remind them to keep chewing or get their shoes on. Later the white noise returns when I'm unloading the dishwasher or even sitting on the floor playing. I am not ignoring my child, but my mmm-hmm responses quickly let my little one know that her long, detailed story of such-and-such boo-boo or his deep explanation of an elaborate Star Wars Lego battle is not quite worthy of my full attention. In fact, I am giving them a mommy version of the blank stare. It's the familiar blank stare they often give me when I am explaining obedience or protocol or why we have to go to bed even though the sun is still out.

Is it possible to calmly squat down to eye-level in these moments, to take two whole minutes to give them my full attention, to listen to these simple but important (to them) stories, knowing that they may not want to share every detail of their life with me before I know it?

Lackadaisical?

Has anyone else fallen into a chronic daily mommy groove that leaves us justifying our time management and hollering at our kids to “stop yelling at each other!” from two rooms away? Back when I only had one baby, I never imagined it could happen to me. I loved spending hours reading smart baby books and singing educational songs and deep cleaning the bathrooms and scrubbing my grout. Now I am lucky to clear laundry from the living room and I'm pretty sure I have a million dollars worth of stock in the Matchbox cars on the carpet.

It takes a great deal of effort to keep it all together.

At the same time, I find myself saying it's impossible to keep it together, so have I stopped trying? It's funny how our goals change with every month that passes as a mom. With all the zillions of blogs and books on organization, home-efficiency and time management, you'd think we could all get our acts together. But honestly, who has time to read it all? Around here, when everyone is scrubbed and brushed and tucked away for the night, I'm completely exhausted. We have more tools to communicate and simplify than ever before, and all we've done is add more things to our to-do lists.

About 5 months ago my husband decided to drop our cable. I'd be lying if I said I was on board with the decision, but in the end it was something we needed to do. At first I went through TV withdrawals. The first few weeks were painful as we attempted to get our little bunny-ear antenna to tune local stations and watch TV online. Eventually Summer came and nothing was on anyway and the days were longer. We went outside more. We read more. Soon I stopped missing it. Soon it became normal to leave the TV off for an entire day. Soon I started thinking back to when we wasted hours every week staring at the screen in our living room.

I don't want to sound like a mommy martyr—suffering with 3 kids AND no Cable! Trust me, I've already watched enough TV to fill up about ten lifetimes, and I'm not saying we'll never have cable again, and yes, we still have a TV in our house.  I guess, for me, the loss of daily lifeless TV viewing showed me many other areas in my life where minutes and hours are wasted. With all the new things we keep adding to our busy lives, are there other pointless things I can remove? Can I find a better balance of the time wasters and non-essentials and cut them out?

I don't want my kids to see me (and mimic me!) as an apathetic person who passively goes about my day because I'm honestly too lazy to just get moving and do what needs to be done. I'm writing this because I am guilty. I'm a very far from perfect mom. In fact, just last week, in my son's first week of school, I inadvertently crashed a PTA Board Meeting (whoops!), then on Friday I sent him to school wearing a hat for hat day, then found out hat day is this Friday.  I make a mess of things on a regular basis.

A Lofty Goal.

We can't just work toward these self-improvement goals for the sake of simply bettering ourselves--shockingly it's not all about me.  This is a familiar verse that puts my mommy days into perspective: Do nothing from selfishness or empty conceit, but with humility of mind regard one another as more important than yourselves; do not merely look out for your own personal interests, but also for the interests of others. (Philippians 2:3-4)

How does this apply to how I treat my family—specifically my kids. Will I listen to important little stories? Will I become someone who is serving out of the interest of others?  What changes can we make as we head into the Fall, a new year, to make memories with our little ones and take hold of each day?

Ring Ring...Back to School! What is the RIGHT Schooling Choice for my Child?

“It is what we think we know already that often prevents us from learning.”
~ Claude Bernard

As a student, did you ever wake up in a cold sweat—worried that you had forgotten an important assignment or failed to study for, say, a geometry test? <shudder> Nothing compares to the feeling of being ill-prepared. I have never been a good procrastinator. But whether you thrive on procrastination or whether you like to get all your ducks in a row like me, if you have kids, sooner or later you will have to make an important decision about school. And it's daunting.

If you have never been overwhelmed by the parenting choices you face, if you have only just begun, (Huggies or Pampers, Similac or Enfamil, Gerber or Beech Nut...) then your day is coming. Some pivotal decisions we face as parents are: where to school, how to school, why to school, when to school? Some may think it is an obvious choice, but perhaps it isn't so cut and dry.

From a quick bit of google searchy-searching, I discovered that about 11% of kids (6.1 million) are enrolled in private, including parochial, schools as of 2006. I also found that approximately 1.5 million children are home schooled, and that number is growing. In the span of eight years, home schooling has grown nationally by almost 75%. This leaves about 49.4 million students who attended public elementary and secondary schools in the fall of 2010.

As far as I know, these are our 3 options, and I'm going to attempt to explore them with you this week—mostly to keep my thoughts occupied since my baby is heading off to the big school this year! And since Kylee and I are just getting started in the school biz, I have enlisted a few amazing experts who have several kids in a variety of school settings to share their knowledge with us.

Before we really delve into our mommy testimonials, today I'm going to throw out a quick overview of PRE-school thoughts. We would love to get feedback from you, too!

Have answers.

First of all, if you don't know why you are choosing (or leaning toward) your preferred method of schooling for your child, then you should probably think about it now. When someone asks you “Why did you choose to send your child to ___ school?” it should not be followed by an awkward silence with crickets chirping. I understand that you may never be wholly confident that what you are choosing is the absolute best, you may even have doubts, but year by year and child by child you should have a reflective, intelligent answer for your choice.

In my opinion, it is never OK to send your child to any school, or homeschool, simply by default. For example, choosing to do something because your parents did it and because “I turned out OK!” is probably not a valid reason. My mom-expert-friends were all able to give me wonderfully thoughtful and valid reasons for each of their school choices even though they had placed their kids in 3 different school settings! If you have never really thought about it, or if your kids are still too young for school, it's time to think about it because trust me, it will be here before you know it.

Assume Nothing. Get Educated!

Do you think it is valid to send your child to a certain school or home school out of fear or lethargy? Is it wise to homeschool simply because I am frightened of what they might encounter in a large school setting? The answer from my expert panel revealed that this was not their answer. In another way is it fine to send my child off to school so that I can do what I want without having to create lesson plans at home or worry about grading my own child's schoolwork? None of my mom friends made the decision to send their children to school simply because they didn't want to be stuck with their kids all day or because they worried about scarring them for life.

Don't assume that your friends are homeschooling because they are scared, and don't assume your friends are sending their kids off to school because they are lazy. If you get down to it, that is most likely not the case!

I love what my friend Sue (mommy of 5!) told me here: “We decided to home school a few years ago for some of the earlier years of our kids' schooling. But I just want to make it clear that I don't put God in a box and we don't think He calls all Christian families to home school. Just so that my reasoning doesn't come across as judgmental towards those who have chosen a different path I want to make that absolutely clear!”

Listening to my friends passionately express their reasons behind their schooling decisions has been wonderfully eye-opening, but it also makes our decision to choose that much harder!

Rising above stereotypes.

I want to devote this week to appreciating, respecting and learning from each other.

Kylee and her husband have chosen to homeschool her oldest son. My husband and I have chosen to send our oldest son to our local public school. I respect Kylee's decision, I know that it was made purposely, and I know that her son is receiving a great education and amazing experiences through having Kylee as his primary teacher in their home. In the same way, Kylee respects our decision to send our son to public school. We prayerfully and purposely made our decision as well, after many discussions with family members and mentors.  We will dig deeper into our own decision-making process later this week!

In the end, our response should be that each family is making a decision based on prayer and research, and we should respect their decision. We don't know what next week holds, let alone five to ten years from now. Hopefully none of us says, “I'll never choose THAT route for schooling!” because kids change, circumstances change, and I certainly don't hold a crystal ball to predict what the future holds; I'm assuming you don't either.

As Joe Fox said, "The whole purpose of places like Starbucks is for people with no decision-making ability whatsoever to make six decisions just to buy one cup of coffee. Short, tall, light, dark, caf, decaf, low-fat, non-fat, etc. So people who don't know what they're doing or who on earth they are can, for only $2.95, get not just a cup of coffee but an absolutely defining sense of self." Hopefully in the next few days we will be able to talk through many of the options: Tall. Decaf. Cappuccino--to present the 3 choices, perhaps to clarify your decision, or perhaps to open your perspective to the other moms like you!




**Follow up links to posts:
To Skip Straight to our post on Homeschooling, go HERE. 
To learn more about Public Schooling, go HERE.
For our discussion on Private (Christian) Schooling, go HERE.
And for some final conclusions, go HERE.

The Root of the Matter.

There's never a good time for a root canal. I can think of about a billion other places I'd rather be sitting on a Monday afternoon than in the squeaky, plastic covered chair of an oral surgeon, but when pain wins out and teeth are dead, options are limited.

As a mom, it is especially difficult to run around to several dentist appointments in one day, sitting in chairs and receiving numbing shots. Thankfully my husband had the day off work, so while I sat in the last chair for close to an hour with my mouth forced open by plastic and rubber, wearing protective glasses to keep the shards of tooth and powder from spraying down my throat and into my eyes, I couldn't help thinking how silly I looked and how incredibly uncomfortable and awkward the whole thing is. And I honestly kept looking to my side, wondering if there was a tank full of colorful talking fish, offering advice on how the dentist should proceed.

During my hour of conscious “thinking time” while I ignored the chatter about drill sizes and cotton and the ever-present smell of nauseating antiseptics, I eventually found a happy place. I remembered that the previous Monday I had been in a different chair—an expensive cushioned chair, the chair that I visit four times a year.  Come to think of it I occasionally have my roots done there as well. That cushy chair smells like exotic shampoos and soothing oils; a chair where an expert gives me a relaxing scalp massage and nobody tells me I should floss more.

When at last the root canal was over and the last X-rays were taken, I sat up and checked myself out and paid the bill at the sterile counter. Then I fully realized that not only is it much less painful to have my roots done at Wisteria Salon, but it's a lot cheaper as well. In fact, I might be doing haircuts at home with safety scissors for a few years.

At any rate, I drove myself home with a numb, lop-sided face, filled my prescriptions, then came home to find my little guy was sick and my husband had already cleaned up one episode of the sick. I was reminded again that there is never a good time for a root canal.  (For instance, I had my first root canal as a freshman in high school when my tooth was knocked free during a Christmas Eve basketball practice. It was not ideal timing, and I have had a fake front tooth ever since.)

While the kids and I stayed inside for several days and licked our wounds, I realized more than ever how much my life resembles the book, If You Give a Mouse a Cookie. I'm sure you know exactly what I'm talking about. It all starts with something simple, like my daughter asking me to draw with her at the easel. In order to get to the easel, I need to pick up 400 matchbox cars, which need to be organized by size and color. This allows me to find that long-lost yellow Uno Moo sheep that we couldn't find! I excitedly put the sheep away in the game box which makes me realize the game shelf is a mess, again. So I organize the games and in the meantime find a piece to the princess puzzle the kids started yesterday. Since we were only missing two pieces, this is great news. I place the piece in the puzzle and head back over to the easel to draw with my daughter, but then I notice the paper is unraveling on the ground, so I need a piece of tape to secure it. When I go to my drawer to find the tape I notice some coupons that are about to expire, and so on and so on.

I eventually ended up back in the toy room, marker in hand, facing the easel, sitting on a tiny yellow kid-craft folding chair with my knees scrunched up into my lap. As moms, we sit in a wide variety of all kinds of chairs throughout the week: perhaps you are currently sitting in the chair feeding a newborn baby and trying to catch a few minutes of precious sleep, or maybe you were just sitting in the chair in your minivan driving the kids to and from the store and piano lessons and school.  

And as much as I love a good recliner or those cushy chairs at Wisteria Salon, I'm pretty sure sometimes it's necessary to spend a few uncomfortable hours at the dentist to eliminate the root of the problem.  Since my tooth already feels 100X better than it did last week, maybe those chairs that cause some discomfort are ultimately what I need to take the root of the pain away. It's a stretch, but in another sense, spending a few minutes sitting in a tiny folding chair near an easel in the toy room while ignoring the mess in the room will be a lot more memorable for my daughter than if I spend the morning getting the house organized.  It's a lesson I seem to revisit daily.

So after a week of reflective recovery from our minor set-backs, I am heading into the weekend ready to plop down on the many chairs of motherhood and sink my mended teeth into some strawberry Laffy Taffy. Just kidding Dr. Swinderman!! Just kidding.  And for those who have never had a root canal, I leave you with a link to this video of what you are missing. Enjoy......

Now, most dentist's chairs go up and down, don't they? The one I was in went back and forwards. I thought 'This is unusual'. And the dentist said to me 'Mr Vine, get out of the filing cabinet. ~Tim Vine

Froggy Days and a Funky Fridge

Last week I spent too much time waiting for the storms. 

Every morning when I woke up it was foggy (or froggy as Maddy says) and when I checked the ever-frustrating and rarely accurate Doppler map it told me emphatically that the rains were coming. They were coming at 9:43 a.m. and again at 1:15 p.m. with varying showers in between.

After several days of green, yellow and red speckled Doppler maps, we stared out through the windows into cloudy skies and waited. We played inside games—puzzles and coloring books and once or twice a few wet drops touched the ground. We heard the distant rumble of storms brewing, but they rarely hit. At the end of each day I found myself feeling silly for planning so much of our day around Doppler predictions when we could have been running through the sprinkler under overcast skies.

Sometimes I am over-zealous in my mommy preparedness, which can be a good thing when someone completely soils an outfit (I have extra) or when I need that additional packet of secret snacks. But sometimes, as over-zealous as I am, crazy things still happen. We run out of toilet paper or hand soap or lunch meat or I manage to burn brownies (yes, brownies!) to a complete crisp. Or even worse.

Last Wednesday I began smelling something funky in the kitchen. It was driving me crazy. Every time I opened the refrigerator door I dove in face-first like a hound dog removing item by item and throwing away anything questionable. I deep-cleaned the fridge recently, so I couldn't figure out what in the world smelled so raunchy. I checked every dairy item, I took out shelves and washed them, I threw out potatoes that were probably fine. I convinced myself something had crawled behind the fridge and died. Something like a gigantic possum with rabies. It was horrible.

Finally, later that night, with help from my hound-dog husband, I pulled out the one and only meat item in the fridge (again) and we both almost fell over. It was a packet of ribs that was well within the labeled expiration date and had looked and seemingly smelled completely fine earlier in the day when I checked it. However when I pulled it out that night it was half green and completely rancid. I immediately ran outside and hurled it into the trash can. As I opened a fresh box of baking soda and cleaned everything (again) we realized that the meat had gone bad several days earlier while said husband had thawed the fridge for a few hours to correct a frozen water line in the freezer. Duh.

How do these things happen? I am reminded once again that I am a mommy, not a Boy Scout. It's impossible for me to be prepared for every single thing, and even when I attempt to plan my day by scouting weather maps or packing perfect lunches or keeping everything in the fridge from ever spoiling, it will still happen occasionally.

At any rate, last week we learned that it's OK to plan a pool day or a park day even when the Doppler is showing inevitable rains. The Doppler might be wrong (gasp!), and even if the showers hit us in the middle of our trip, a nice summer soak in refreshing rain is good for the soul every now and then. 

As for spoiled, stinky meat in the fridge, I learned that if you suspect the meat is stinky, if nothing else in the fridge looks stinky, and even if you have put the meat to your face and inhaled deeply and have convinced yourself the meat is not stinky in any way, it is still the meat.  Even if the expiration date is fine and the color is fine, you may end up going back several hours later to discover green meat and the smell of a dead possum that has burrowed deep into the bottom drawer of your fridge.  

I will leave you with a thought from William Feather--I know nothing of his credentials, but I appreciate this sentiment and I think the name William Feather is incredibly fun and poetic.  He said, "Some people are making such thorough preparation for rainy days that they aren't enjoying today's sunshine." Enjoy your fleeting summer days, whether it's rainy outside, or stinky inside!

Popsicles in Pools

The dust continues to settle on our most recent adventure—a whirlwind trip to the Midwest to participate in my baby brother's beautiful wedding. The trip odometer read 1,400 miles, 450 games of “I spy,” 125 rainbow goldfish crunched into tiny van crevasses, and 16 half-eaten sucker sticks melted into tiny teeth.

One thing that continues to amaze me about these trips is that no matter how I plan—I am a planner you know, there will be traffic in unexpected places, downpours in the middle of mountain driving and babies who wake up hours before they should. Flexibility is a skill that it forced upon us with the gift of motherhood. With each child there is another set of wants and needs, another hungry belly, another dirty face and another time frame that is not quite in sync with mine.

For the past two days I have had great intentions to unpack the bags, put the laundry away, finish organizing the toy room, take things to goodwill, mop the floors, put things away! The house seems to still be in post-adventure disarray and my little guy has done nothing but follow me around the house whimpering and clinging to my left leg.

Because of the whimpering and clinging we have spent the majority of the past two days outside in the baby pool where the sun is hot, and deep well water runs cool from green garden hoses. Today they ate Popsicles while sitting in the pool and the green ice melted down their chins and dripped into the water. I watched chunks of Popsicle melt into the pool and I watched Mason sift through the grassy water, find the chunk and shove it back into his mouth. It was a lovely summer day and as they splashed and played I stared at them—forcing a memory.

Then I was thinking about how even in the midst of lazy days where nothing is scheduled or planned, where the kids are deep in the land of imaginary play, the responsibilities of motherhood are there—lurking shadows that can instantly force a shift in fun:

• Suddenly realizing that the baby is playing with a mysterious “log” in the sandbox = an immediate fun-ender. <Insert 20 minutes of child and sandbox clean-up>
• Leaving the baby in the living room for no less than 60 seconds to retrieve a non-swimmy diaper resulting in an artistic display of some sort on the middle of the living room floor = a fun-ender. <Insert several minutes of child and carpet clean-up>

Long ago I willingly accepted these responsibilities: the constant hunger of bottom-less bellies, washing of sweaty kids and sweaty clothes, scrubbing of dingy baby teeth, driving to and fro and the immeasurable changing of diapers.  I can't take three small kids and plan a day-o-fun that doesn't involve an unexpected mess and needs that must be met immediately.  Instead of always worrying about all the hypothetical messes that could occur at any time during my day or tracking down that tricky fun-ender who is lurking in the shadows, I'm learning to enjoy the moment and clean it up when I can.  Sometimes it's best to just eat Popsicles in the baby pool and embrace the gooey melted mess that comes with lots of smiles and laughter.

On this note I am supremely thankful this week. 

• I am thankful for the flexibility of my young kids. They show me how to relax.
• I am thankful for a safe drive and a lovely visit with family.
• I am thankful for cheap popsicles and sticky faces.
• I am thankful for water splashes on the pages in my journal.
• I am thankful for the fun sounds Mason makes when he impersonates a jet flying above us.

“The holy grail of joy is not in some exotic location or some emotional mountain peak experience. The joy wonder could be here! Here, in the messy, piercing ache of now, joy might be - unbelievably - possible! The only place we need see before we die is this place of seeing God, here and now.” 
~Ann Voskamp

“I don’t need more time to breath so that I may experience more locales, possess more, accomplish more. Because wonder really could be here - for the seeing eye.” Ann Voskamp

Thankful Thursday!

It has been a week of little sleep and lengthy to-do lists around here.  The long summer days are filled with big plans and the kids are filled to the brim with extra energy.  I am realizing that it is even more important to focus on thankfulness when the days are too full and fuses are shorter than usual.  It has been a week to purposely hone in on my true priorities even when other things seem more important; it is a battle for me!  

• Today I'm especially thankful that we have all been healthy (no summer sickness yet!) 
• I'm thankful for cooler days and thunderstorms.
• I am very thankful that we will be spending a week with my family.
• I am thankful to celebrate Father's day with a great daddy to our 3 kiddos.
• I am thankful for random colored pen scribbles that I find mixed in with my "notes" in my journals.
• I am thankful for big hugs from my super-affectionate little guy.
• I'm thankful for throwing the baby into the air, and his squeals of laughter.
• I'm thankful for a 4 year old doing jumping jacks.  It is extremely entertaining. 
• I'm thankful for sweet, sweet baby words that I should correct but want to remember forever.

"Feeling gratitude and not expressing it is like wrapping a present and not giving it."  ~ William Ward

The Worrywart: Kryptonite for Supermoms?

Last week was full of many what ifs for me. While I may not look like your mainstream worrywart, trust me--the warts are there, buried under anxious mommy shoulders and buckling mommy knees.

In general, I don't lie awake at night biting my nails over my health, or gas prices or paying bills, or even death. I wouldn't say I spend a ton of time agonizing over what people think about me. You know, the average worries. I've realized lately that just because I don't brood about the popular worrisome issues, it doesn't mean I'm not a worrywart.

For me, as a mom, worrying and control seem to go hand in hand. I don't worry much about the things I know I can't control. But if there is something I think I can control, then my mind goes wild. For some reason, I usually end up worrying for my kids. I think it's natural to worry for our kids; we want them to be happy and healthy, we want them to have a million friends and never skin their knees. But I'm already realizing that even when I have the best intentions and try to do everything right, I will never control their fate.  My worrying causes needless anxiety for me, and in turn my anxiety is often reflected in my kids as well. 

In the past week, two prime examples jumped out and revealed that my furtive fears for my kids are often unwarranted and make me feel silly in retrospect. I am not proud to admit that I waste time thinking about things I can't control, but as a mother it is a battle I fight constantly.

Last week our family spent four days at camp with around 280 other friends from our church. I was very excited to go spend time away from routine with our family, to not worry about meals to plan, laundry to fold and I was especially excited about the luxury of having Daddy away from work and all to ourselves.

I must admit though, I was more than apprehensive about the schedule, which called for several hours of nursery time during each day. I have never been a fan of putting my little ones in the nursery, and no it isn't just because of the germs they might acquire there (although the germs are usually invited to the party!)

Call it a fault, but there is something gut-wrenching about dropping off a young one in the nursery while he is screaming your name and digging his nails into your arm. I don't enjoy it. The thought of my baby crying for hours on end while I am listening to a speaker or enjoying coffee with my husband is initially not my first choice; I have to step back and convince myself to do it after some anxiety and prayer.

The short end to this scenario is that my little guy was fine at camp. Did he love being dropped off for little bits at a time? No. Did he survive? Yes. (Thanks to great nursery workers!) Will he remember being left in the nursery for a few hours while I enjoyed some much needed adult interaction and lovely conversation with my husband? No. Once again I am learning perspective; in the big picture, the time I wasted worrying about the well-being of my little one would have been better spent elsewhere. We had a great week and spent scads of time together as a family of 5—little guy included. He may have even learned in a small way that our family dynamic doesn't entirely revolve around his little world; an important lesson that he might as well start learning now.

~ ~

While coming down from the fun of family camp, we returned to church classes that were promoting everyone up to their new fall grade level. Anxiety once again reared for me as mommy since we recently decided to keep our big guy back in Kindergarten, although many of his friends are promoting to first grade. I know he will be fine in his new class in his big school, but I thought the church transition might be tough. I tossed and turned about how this traumatic event might cause him pain and suffering and wondered if I needed to brace him for the change or pain that might ensue on Sunday morning. He is a pensive thinker and I wondered how it would all go down.

Sunday morning came and went. I carefully asked a few probing questions after his morning class; he shrugged his shoulders and ate his lunch. Later in the evening when I picked him up from his evening class, I was amazed to find him running around and actually leading a game in the gym. He can't wait to go back next Sunday and even enjoyed having his younger sister join him in class. Imagine that.

The thing is, “If anything bad can happen, it probably will.” Even if I am constantly afraid of running out of diapers or lacking a spare kid outfit or having a flat tire on the highway or running out of my morning coffee or milk going bad, those things are still going to happen. Because they can. I can keep my kids carefully buried deep under my wings, protecting them from every potential outside danger, but they will still fall down and get hurt when I'm not looking.


I can do my best to prepare and be organized and have a back-up plan, but I can't control it all, and I shouldn't control it all! If I never leave my house for fear of all the scary things I anticipate happening, then what am I teaching my kids? Isn't it better to teach them that bad things will happen and show them we can respond in a calm manner? Mark Twain said, “I am an old man and have known a great many troubles, but most of them never happened.”

I'm not saying we'll never have another nursery meltdown or that I won't pick up the phone to call when I leave my kids for the night. I'm a mom. There are plenty of things to worry about as moms and dads because we are entrusted with a huge responsibility as parents; I'm hoping I can learn from moments like these and perhaps someday become as adaptable and flexible as my 5-year-old.

"So do not worry about tomorrow; for tomorrow will care for itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own." Matthew 6:34