Wednesday, June 18, 2014

not scary at all.

As I sit here on Day 1 of summer vacation I have a trillion of thoughts swirling through my head : thoughts about summer activities we should or shouldn't do, lazy days, wondering why it isn't sunny out today, will the weather be nicer for our swimming lessons in the outdoor pool, how many times is reasonably okay to eat smores in a few months time, how I am so glad both of my kiddos are here together, how I hope I feel that way all summer long, how I am ecstatic that there were no alarms going off this morning, how it feels awesome & lazy at the same time to still be in pj's at 9:52 a.m., how it is kind of strange that we haven't yet ventured outside, but also I am glad we haven't walked down the road & back to school, so on & so forth.  I hope to be able to block some of these random thoughts out and reflect back on the past year.  On the first year of public school & having my eldest away at kindergarten.  Back in August of last year I was feeling a flood of  emotions & really had no idea of what to expect sending my son forth out in the world ( literally only 2 blocks away) so I am talking about more of a under influence of others leaving his safe bubble sort-of-a-way.

I have learned that there are a ton of germs swirling around the school (shocker!)  If there was anything we could get we did get.  Flu-check twice survived the puking-off-the-top-bunk in the middle of the night episode.  Colds-check more than I could count one even won us a trip to the x-ray room to see if it had developed into pneumonia.  Pink eye-check.  Two cases, Well one, but in each eye so I am counting that as two because it was just as gross in each peeper.   The only thing we didn't get a chance to enjoy was lice.  Not that we didn't get an opportunity to have it's presence around us we just didn't personally have it as an unwelcome guest in our home.  Super thankful for that as I was a wee bit paranoid (read totally obsessed with any preventative measure I could get my hands on) Tea-tree shampoo, tea tree oil (applied generously to the scalp, coats & back packs on a semi-regular basis) coats thrust into the dryer on the highest heat possible immediately after entering the house after school.  And the creme de la creme of paranoia was the spray my dear friend gave me called "Lice knowing you" Love that stuff smells good & makes me feel like a real lice warrior.  This would liberally spray hoods, coats, & backpacks on a regular basis.  And no I didn't read the ingredients don't even want to know.  Point is I think it works.  So I have a pretty good system down & am guessing it will need to be repeated for only the next 11 years or so.  Then the kid is on his own.

I learned that my sometimes shy kiddo doesn't need me around to facilitate conversation.  He was constantly coming home to tell me that he played with so & so or he talked to so & so about this & that.  These were kiddos not even in the same class!  How in the world did the kid who used to & sometimes still does hide behind my legs & turn a shade of pink when spoken to how did that kid become mister social at recess time?!  How I wish I could have been a fly on the err... soccer ball or monkey bars for those initial introductions.  " Hi."  "Hi."  "Wanna play super-hero ninja warriors?"  "You're it!"  Boom.  Instant friends until the next recess.

I am thankful for the new experiences he has had, the amazing (2!) teachers he was fortunate to have been placed with, the new friendships ,that I know as I am still friends with a dear one I went to kindergarten with, may last a lifetime, the conflicts he had & the choices he learned to to make to help come up with a solution for those, the appreciation he found for his little brother whom he missed being around each day, his feelings that were hurt so that he knows what it is like to be on the receiving end when a big first grader is making fun of your soccer skills (or lack of let's just have a moment of honesty here.  But, the kid can THROW a baseball.  Isn't it kind of a disservice to our kids to make them think they are awesome at everything?  Maybe?  Still trying to figure out how to finesse that whole thing. ) so that next fall when he is the big first grader he will hopefully recall that & extend a little more kindness to the kindergartner who is being brave out on the field, the books he was exposed to, the writing he acquired, the different languages he heard, the different shades of skin he sat by, the music he sang & danced to & the thirst for knowledge that continues to grow.

All in all it was a pretty great year.  Not nearly as scary as I thought it would be.  Isn't that the way though often the things that are unknown to us seem so scary, but once we step out & see what we are dealing with it isn't scary at all.  We often even end up enjoying it & always seem to learn something from it.  Now the trick will be to remember that when my youngest starts pre-school in the fall thus beginning a new season of time.by.myself. which is something that sounds thrilling & scary unknown to me all over again.



Tuesday, April 22, 2014

being a mama

Never have I been more humbled than on this journey of parenthood.  Whether it is walking out of a restaurant with your kiddos poopie undies in the pocket of your hoodie (yep did that the other day) or coming face-to-face with some less than desirable personality traits reflected back at you it is a non-stop-always-and-forever-learning process.  You revisit things time & time again. You forgive & are forgiven.  You cry out & are constantly cried at.  Most nights you can't wait for bedtime & then other nights you go in their rooms after they are asleep because you miss them & want to watch them sleep.  You basically feel like a crazy person all of time because you can't remember anything & you are being pulled at talked at all day long.  You clap with excitement over lego creations & then curse later as you step on them.  You long for a night out with girlfriends & then spend the time talking about your little ones. You can't wait for free time & then when you get it you don't know what to do with your bad self.  It is all this & more.  It is nothing at all like I thought it would be.  It is terrific & sometimes terrifying.

It is real, messy, sometimes so beautiful & in-your-face you can't stand it, it makes your blood boil, and you love with both a fierceness & gentleness you didn't know existed.  You want to protect them & allow them to make mistakes all in the same day.  That and track on their sugar intake.  How is this possible?  How is it possible to train, parent, guard, love, cherish, discipline & enjoy all day long? Sometimes I just need to take a moment & reflect on the magnitude of being a mama. It is so much more than making sure we have milk & super-hero band aids. It is more than making sure the blankies are clean & the bedtime routine isn't forgotten.  It is more than platitudes & greeting cards could ever capture.  Moment by moment.  Day by day.  Step by step.  Then we wake up & start again.  Full on joy & mess coming at us the moment we arise.  It is more than words can say.  It is a feeling all to it's own.  It is being a mama.

Thursday, April 10, 2014

Feeling like a fraud.

Maybe it's just me, but have you ever felt like a total fraud?  And then once you become aware that you've been a living life as a fraud you can't fake it anymore.  The blinders have been removed & no longer can you be oblivious or ignore the fact.  That is how I started to feel a few months ago when I considered how I "loved" others.  Sure I loved my family & friends.  Those were the easy people to love, but how did I do with the less-desirable peeps?  The ones you see on the corners?  The ones you hear about going to cold-weather shelters on a winter's night because you know THEY. LIVE. OUTSIDE.  The people who look a little different, smell a little different, make a little less,
sound a little differnt & have made some differnt choices than me.  I started to wonder if how Jesus talked in the Bible about loving others, taking care of others, feeding & clothing those who didn't have it & how everyone was made in the image of God (therefor deserving of the dignity & respect I showed my loved ones) what if all those weren't just feel-good words to take into consideration?  What if we were actually supposed to take them ,like,  literally?  What if we were supposed to live like we believed them?  Would I then need to become a radical & sell all I own & move to another country? Would we need to start a mobile soup kitchen out of the back of our minivan? How would that even work?  Do people at T-ball games even need soup? Seriously what would people think?  Would they think we've let a whole lot of crazy out or would they recognize the desire on their own hearts to do something?

Our family started to think that maybe for us it meant a little more than just sending a monthly check to World Vision for our sponserd girl in Myanmar.  Maybe it also meant we sashay a little into some uncomfortable situations so that others might benefit or at least so we could try to figure out what it meant for us to love others.  Maybe it meant we give our sleeping bags away so that on that very night someone may be a little warmer regardless of what we would do come summer time & our annual camping trip.  Maybe it meant that instead of getting upset with our boys & fretting about their sense of entitlement when it came to goldfish crackers or fruit strips at snack time that we take a pizza to some homeless people so that our kiddos might gain a bit of a different perspective.

Being a mom of two young boys I know a bit about imperfections.  How the ever present crumbs on the table & the floor can be enough to drive you cuckoo-bananas or it could be just enough to remind you that life is being lived right in front of you.  So can the needs you see & hear about in your community.  They can appear so huge that you are immobilized into doing nothing just frozen by their sheer greatness.  Or you can choose to see each one bit by bit as a tangible need you & others can meet.  The homeless drop-in center for teens wants board games?  Great, haven't ever played that cribbage game stuck in the back of the closet, like ever.  Some working poor people need some sensible shoes?  Great, I have a pair that would work.  Wait.  Am I crying about getting rid of them because they are a pair I like & are pretty cute?  Give yourself some grace.  Just because you are shedding a few tears doesn't mean that you are a selfish or self-absorbent person (at least that is what I told myself). It may mean you just came face-to-face with the realization that you have a choice.  Each time  you reach out, you love others, you see others you are choosing to put yourself a little lesser. There are some growing pains in that as it doesn't come naturally to us.  It is the opposite of everything we see & hear.  But, although it may hurt a little or be a bit messy there is beauty in it. I am starting to learn that putting yourself a little lesser is how we find some of the freedom we all long for.  When you start seeing others first you can almost hear the chinks as the wall you've built around yourself begins to crumble.  The light filters through & you wonder how long you've been in this solitary confinement you built up around yourself.  You breath in the fresh air you see the blue sky & you step out taking one messy, beautiful step after another.  Choice-by-choice.  Encounter-by-encounter.  One smile or kind word or action by another.    Probably won't get it right every time but then just try again. Slowly I hope to feel like a little less of a fraud & more like one who takes those words to heart & learns to live by them.

Sunday, April 6, 2014

Imperfections-My Messy Beautiful.

Sitting in my kitchen.  Early morning drinking my first cup of creamer coffee for the day I look around in disgust.  The sink is full of dirty dishes.  The kitchen table has crumbs galore scattered all over it.  Are those from yesterday's lunch or dinner I wonder?  Did I really not wipe them off?  There are milk splatters, evidences of marker gone off the paper, scratches, indents & the table is just looking warn.down.  I am sure the table always looks like this, but this morning as the sunlight filters in just so it seems to highlight all of these "imperfections".

My husband & I bought this table when we were living in Minneapolis getting ready to host our first Friends Thanksgiving.  We realized that as our guest list grew our options of seating were dwindling.  So one day,while I was working, my husband & a friend of ours scoured The Cities for a table that would suit us.  They ended up finding a brand new table which I have to say at that time in our lives was a novelty as we were still in the mismatched, used, hand-me-down furniture phase. The table was less than $300 & the great thing was that it had a leaf that folded in to the table & when fully raised it could accommodate up 8-10 people comfortably. We were set for our feast! The not-so-great thing was that it didn't come with any chairs & our budget was used up at that point.

Thus our first of many Thanksgiving dinners with friends began with everyone bringing their own chair to sit in.  It was a mismatched & imperfect gathering of chairs, but it was a full & joyous gathering. That is the thing I seem to need perspective about so often in this season of mothering young kiddos.  Without it I can easily get amnesia.  On the mornings that I look around my kitchen in disgust I typically either shift into guilt mode: "Can't believe I let it get like this.  What a slacker mom I am that I can't stay on top of it.  I hope no one stops by."  Or I shift into To-Do list mode where I can't stop to play with the boys much less slow down long enough to answer a question they may have.  I get obsessed with the items on my list & crossing them off.  I also write things down I have already done & then cross them off to make myself feel even more efficient. Anyone else?  Seriously try it if you don't already do it.  Makes you feel a ton more productive.  There is no shame.   Don't get me wrong about the lists & accomplishing things & even cleaning  those are not bad things at all.  We are grown-ups and have grown-up things that need to get done at times.  Just for me those "things" can sometimes get in the way of living life.

Will my kids remember that we had a jacked-up table or will they remember making the messes & the memories that came along with it? Will they remember always having a full cupboard of clean dishes or will they remember me saying "Can't right now I have to do the dishes"?  Even though I am no domestic diva I can at times let the to-do's prioritize me rather than me prioritizing them.  Sometimes I see the crumbs & dirty dishes as my failings rather than as evidence of lives being lived in my home.  I see the "imperfections" as a negative & not as the obvious in-my-face reminders of how amazingly full my life is.  I am hopeful that when my boys grow up & reflect back on their childhood that the memories they hold closest to them will not be the cleanliness of our house, but that it was just dirty enough to be a happy home.  And I am hopeful that I will not get amnesia about the "imperfections" as often & will instead look around & be thankful for the beautiful mess that is my life.





Tuesday, March 25, 2014

tricky.

It is a tricky thing to be a mama & have your heart live outside of your body.  You want what is best for your little ones.  You don't want them to have their feelings hurt or to feel disappointment or loss.  You want to protect them from all of it.  Yet, the tricky part is it would be a disservice to them if we did that.  If we shielded them from all of the emotional threats that may come their way & insisted they live under our bubble of protection how would they grow into effective & healthy adults?  How would they be able to function with all of the hurt, disappointments & struggles that come along with all of the adult stuff?  How would they know to turn to a savior to find their comfort & to place their burdens?

That being said it is no fun at all to have your little one come home & say "So & So doesn't want to be my friend anymore."  When I heard that it was literally like someone sucker punched me.  Why wouldn't anyone NOT want to be friends with my kiddo I asked myself?  This amazing, fun, creative kid?!  Then I reeled myself in & started wondering what my kid did to the other kid in order to garner this response.  Then I started thinking about how much more awful things kids could & do say to one another.  Then I wondered if my kid took it out of context or if the other kid even really knew what he was saying.  I didn't want to go all mama bear like I did when this same kid would get pushed down as a toddler at the local park I just hurt for his hurt.  I could feel his sadness & disappointment & I wanted to make it all better with hugs & words & maybe some ice cream?  Okay not ice cream, but wouldn't that be awesome (maybe not for our waistlines) if a scoop of cookies & cream really did make everything better?  I would have a freezer full of the stuff if it actually worked.

 So instead of passing on my emotional eating issues to my 6-year-old I did the only thing I could do.  I asked him how it made him feel, we chatted & I prayed.  Prayed about not letting my relationship "junk" become his issues, prayed about the friends to come, prayed about how thankful I was that God will never leave my little guy & how He is the best friend my kiddo will ever encounter & I am so thankful.  I gave my son  & his relationships over to God & I have a sneaky feeling this will be something I will have to do over & over & over throughout his life.  Amazing how resilient little ones are as he was over it in a second & just wanted to know if he could go play.  I imagine eye rolling & sighing will be interjected into future like conversations, but for now I am just thankful he trusted his little heart to me & thankful I didn't get an ice cream headache from stuffing my face with some cookies & cream.


Friday, March 7, 2014

sick days.

Mama said there be days like this.  Where one sick day turns into many.  When you are sequestered in your home with sick kiddos.  When plans are cancelled, birthday parties are missed & weekend overnights & no longer a reality.  Sick days might just be the mortar that holds the family together.  Yes, there are other things that bond: game nights, great conversations, cheering from the sidelines, but at night when all is quiet & the meds have been given, the prayers said & still their feverish selves racking with coughs can't find relief there is none other than their mama who brings comfort.  It is our mere presence that makes them feel better, it is our comfort they cry out for.  Would we climb out of bed over & over in a single night for anyone other than our kiddos? Seems like a constant learning process to me.  It is churning us over & over working the selfishness out.  Teaching us to put others before ourselves.  Wiping their nose before our own.  Make sure they get the last of the OJ.  Watching hours of Jake the Neverland Pirate (will I ever be rid of that song in my head?!) because it acts as a distraction to their discomfort.

As I sat here this morning thinking how this whole sick week has had it's benefits & that surely I must be growing from it, because who would want it to all be for naught, the next thing you know I was pretending to be asleep on the couch so no.one.would.bother.me.  Gah!  Imperfect progress.  I don't think I will ever have this motherhood thing figured out.  But I guess that is one of the benefits of this vocation.  You are constantly learning & those under your care don't look down on you if you don't have it all together.  Rather they cheer & take delight in the unexpected.  They find you "asleep" on the couch & tell you it's okay if you want to go to bed.  They are on your team & you are on theirs.  Even when said team is covered in snot & coughing in your face.


Tuesday, February 11, 2014

memories.

Many a times in the last few days I have sat down at this computer & started to write.  Nothing has come to completion, but it has all had the same subject matter. My dad.  He has been on my mind so much lately.  I have had so many memories come to mind that at random moments I will laugh out loud.  Just today that happened as we were in the car & my youngest asked what was so funny.  How do I explain to a 3-year-old that I was laughing about a man he'd never met.  One whom helps to make up who he is, but that he'll never have the chance to know?

My dad passed away five years ago.  On Valentines day.  Seriously?  Worst holiday ever to loose someone on.  Everywhere there are candies and hearts and balloons and flowers.  Meanwhile there are a few of us who reflect on the man who was.  Not that we wear black or don't celebrate the day.  Maybe at first it felt a little off to be doing so, but if you knew my dad you would know he would guffaw at the thought.  He never cared to be the center of attention.  He felt most comfortable behind the video camera not on the stage in front.  It is strange to think of how much has changed in the time he has been gone.  At times it seems he's been gone for decades due to so many new memories that have been made that he is not a part of .  Other times it seems only yesterday that he would be leaning on his & my mom's kitchen counter cracking himself up with his own corny jokes.

When I think of my dad I mostly recall the last few years of his life, the last week specifically, sure there are countless memories of road trips, arguments (he & I were a little too similar), fishing, guitar playing, golfing, card games & football watching, not to mention the times he busted me for coming in after curfew or the looks he would give me when he saw a new tattoo or hair color,  but what left the biggest impression on me was how he suffered so the last few years & yet never once did I hear him complain.  He lost the ability to do so much he loved & so much that we all take for granted.  He was no longer able to go hit a few balls, go out to lunch with his retired work friends much less go down stairs or walk from one end of the room to the other without totally loosing his breath.  He couldn't go into the bottom level of his house.  His skin bled & tore easily.  He HAD to have his oxygen to do any little movement.  I am sure there were many more ailments he had that I wasn't even aware of.  Maybe that was just between he & my mom who cared for him so tenderly.  Yet, he was on this earth two years longer than the doctors predicted.  He got to meet all of his grandchildren, but one, he saw all of his children mature into capable adults.  He knew when the day came for him to leave this place that he would be welcomed into Heaven by those who'd gone before him.

I think it is totally okay to take a few days & sift through the memories of someone who has passed away.  Something I've learned is that when you loose a parent no matter how near or far of a relationship you have with them you loose a tiny bit of yourself as well.  I remember confiding in a friend a few months after he had passed that I missed him.  Her reply saddened me & made me probably swear in my head at her (just being real) she said "Really?  You didn't even seem that close."  Now I know that typically people just don't know what to say when they come face-to-face with someone else's grief.  Grief is something we will all experience, but it is something we all deal with a little differently.  And unless you've gone through it yourself there is a chance you may say some insensitive things to those who are in it.  Don't feel bad though we have grace on you in the moment & then when the time comes & you go through it yourself we will be there for you.

All this to say I miss him. I wish my boys would grow up with knowing him as one of their grandpas.  I wish they could play hours of catch with him.  I wish he was still here laughing & clapping his hands together when he was trying to convince you that a shot of whiskey out in the garage is what would cure that sore throat.  But I think that it has taken him being gone for me to learn to appreciate the father he was & the wisdom he held. I wish I could say that we had an amazing father-daughter relationship & that when I think back over our lives together that they were conflict free &  that he was always loving & that I was always respectful.   But we people are messy & so are the lives we lead.  Although it was far from perfect it was ours.  And I am going to take it.  I am going to embrace our story & keep adding to it.  So that one day when my boys are talking to their children they will be able to share stories about Grandpa Wil & how he lived the life he'd been given.