I am amused by the viral video of a mother smacking her son around for being a part of the Baltimore protests. She's been called the Hero Mom and The Natural Hero. I am amused about this for a few reasons. It is interesting to see what goes viral. The video was entertaining. What causes me the most amusement, though, is how people (myself included) applaud this mother for strongly and physically stopping her child from bad behavior. The Baltimore situation seems to justify the Baltimore mom's use of force. What a strong woman to react without hesitation and without concern for judgment! Her child was in harm's way- both a present harm and a perceived future of harm. So, she did what she needed to do. She pulled him off the path of destruction.
I am glad she stood her ground. I do not have a problem with her being commended for taking charge of her child. Quite frankly, like many others, I found the story heart-warming.
But, there is a disconnect.
The same people who applaud this strong mother would probably be disgusted by a mother spanking a child at the grocery store.
People cringe when they see parents enforcing consequences for bad behavior. We cringe because it makes us feel uncomfortable. We cringe because we do not know if someone will view it as abusive.
Admonishment of children, especially if done in a public setting, is not lauded.
Therefore, character development is often saved for home.
I do not believe it is optimal.
I cannot count the times where I chose to delay a punishment because I was within the public eye. On numerous occasions, I would then either forget to go forward with the disciplinary consequences or chose not to because life had moved on.
I see a society that craves strong parenting but prefers for the discipline of children to be done behind closed doors.
There is a disconnect.
It is both amusing and maddening.
Showing posts with label Motherhood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Motherhood. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 29, 2015
Wednesday, June 11, 2014
Embracing Milesstones
My youngest had a Kindergarten celebration this week. She was - well, is- the cutest thing ever.
Tonight I realized that I've reached another milestone. I don't really appreciate it. I don't like it at all to be honest. And, I recognize it is only the beginning. There was a time when I thought that if I made it to the end of the day and the kids were in bed, I had made it. I could relax. The preschool days were so exhausting, ya know? Ha! I am not dealing with the middle school days happily. Now when I "make it" to the end of the day, the end of the day isn't over. This week, my middle schooler is working on final projects and studying for final exams. Wait until he is finally in bed for my relax before bed time? It's insane. I am already not getting enough sleep. This is a serious adjustment that I am not making. I have not adjusted. In all fairness, I used to do the same exact thing- waiting until the last night for projects. I realize it and it drives me crazy... oh shoot, I guess I better get used to it.
I should have snuck in the other room and took picture of him typing away at the computer for his final report for Social Studies. Oh-so-cute!
Okay, really. Kindergarten is adorable. Middle school is tough. But I still adore him. It's just different. I marvel at how he is growing. I am amazed at how he eats. His body is changing. He has a little extra hair above his upper lip. He does. Oh my gosh, he does.
I find the juxtaposition of my Kindergartener and middle schooler fascinating and bit frightening. Oh so cliché, where does the time go?
I can't help but smile.
I smile at the memory of my 6 year old daughter covering up in bed, telling me "You are the best mom ever. You are the best mom in the whole entire universe." She was so incredibly sweet. She beamed with her precious smile and love in her eyes.
I smile at the memory of my 13 year old son cracking himself up by purposely putting in this erroneous fact for me to catch when I proof-read his paper: "All in all the Revolutionary War was a great conquest, led by the first President George W. Bush." He was so remarkably funny. He laughed so hard, proud of his joke.
Friday, August 16, 2013
Eyes straight ahead
I walked into the bathroom to put up some clean towels. My 8 year old was going to the bathroom.
T: "Look Momma! I'm peeing with my eyes closed."
M: "What?!"
Laughter. A proud smile.
"Uh, The seat is down. There's pee on the seat."
T: "Not much." Pointing. "Just a little over here."
M: "Well, I don't want to sit on that. Here (handing him tissue), wipe it up."
T: "I don't want to touch it..."
M: "Neither do I. Go to it."
Starting this coming week, the boys are going to take a more active role in cleaning the bathrooms. I am certain the chore is going to be met with complaints and lackadaisical effort. I am determined. These wonderful boys of mine need to be more careful. No more proud moments peeing blindfolded (or with eyes closed, as the case may be).
If you have boys, or if you know one (even if he is a child turned man), you have to read this: 15 Rules for Peeing. You may chuckle to yourself. You may laugh. You will grimace. But most of all, you will remember that boys think differently. Boys of all ages need bathroom rules. And, Rule 16 would have to do with not peeing in the shower.
Friday, July 19, 2013
Trying to Keep Up
My baby, my first baby, is not home. Jonathan is experiencing his first full week away from home. I am experiencing my first week without one of my kids. It feels strange, wrong, wonderful and exciting all at once.
I keep having the odd feeling of something not being quite right. I keep telling myself, "This is it. This is the beginning of letting go." But I also know that letting go started a long time ago. I cannot believe he is so independent. He cannot be on his own at camp. How is that possible? Never mind that I was younger than him when I went to my first summer camp. It just such a different feeling from the other side. Is this how all parents feel? Is this how my mom felt? My other kids have been missing their big brother. I've told them more than once that Jonathan is having a great time and while he probably misses us at times (like at night or early in the morning), he won't admit to it when he gets home. I'm telling them that because I am reminding myself.
He's reached that age where being with your parents is not cool. Affection toward your parents in public? Out of the question. I hugged my boy in the privacy of my own kitchen before we took him to the drop off point. I hugged him tight. He hugged me back. He hugged me. In parking lot, he smiled at me. His eyes met my eyes. He said bye. My heart was bleeding. I exaggerate. I do. But, I was one of the last parents lingering in the parking lot. My husband had to suggest that we go ahead and leave - as to not be the very last parents hanging around as they loaded up and drove away.
He is stretching for independence. Running toward it in my eyes. Standing firmly in it, in his eyes.
This is a milestone for me. It's huge. It's small. I know that there are many more changes to come as he become a teenager next year. I know there are so many more milestones for me as he grows into a man.
I keep thinking about other mothering milestones I've experienced with my first born. I remember the surprise of emotions when I packed his first lunch for school (The Packed Lunch). It's been 6 years. 6 years!
He's grown. Of course he's grown. But, the hard part is realizing that along with getting bigger, he is growing up.
I am trying to keep up- recognizing the changes, loosening the grip, being readily available, and dedicated to prayer.
All the while, this week has kept me wondering about him: Is he having fun? Is he tired? Is he being picked on? Is he eating? Is he brushing his teeth? Does he miss me? What is he doing? Did he get sunburned? Will there be any pictures of him taken during the week? Did he pack everything he needed? Did he play paintball? Is he happy?
Motherhood is such a journey.
Speaking of a journey- I cannot wait for my son to get home tomorrow.
I keep having the odd feeling of something not being quite right. I keep telling myself, "This is it. This is the beginning of letting go." But I also know that letting go started a long time ago. I cannot believe he is so independent. He cannot be on his own at camp. How is that possible? Never mind that I was younger than him when I went to my first summer camp. It just such a different feeling from the other side. Is this how all parents feel? Is this how my mom felt? My other kids have been missing their big brother. I've told them more than once that Jonathan is having a great time and while he probably misses us at times (like at night or early in the morning), he won't admit to it when he gets home. I'm telling them that because I am reminding myself.
He's reached that age where being with your parents is not cool. Affection toward your parents in public? Out of the question. I hugged my boy in the privacy of my own kitchen before we took him to the drop off point. I hugged him tight. He hugged me back. He hugged me. In parking lot, he smiled at me. His eyes met my eyes. He said bye. My heart was bleeding. I exaggerate. I do. But, I was one of the last parents lingering in the parking lot. My husband had to suggest that we go ahead and leave - as to not be the very last parents hanging around as they loaded up and drove away.
He is stretching for independence. Running toward it in my eyes. Standing firmly in it, in his eyes.
This is a milestone for me. It's huge. It's small. I know that there are many more changes to come as he become a teenager next year. I know there are so many more milestones for me as he grows into a man.
I keep thinking about other mothering milestones I've experienced with my first born. I remember the surprise of emotions when I packed his first lunch for school (The Packed Lunch). It's been 6 years. 6 years!
He's grown. Of course he's grown. But, the hard part is realizing that along with getting bigger, he is growing up.
September 2007
June 2013
All the while, this week has kept me wondering about him: Is he having fun? Is he tired? Is he being picked on? Is he eating? Is he brushing his teeth? Does he miss me? What is he doing? Did he get sunburned? Will there be any pictures of him taken during the week? Did he pack everything he needed? Did he play paintball? Is he happy?
Motherhood is such a journey.
Speaking of a journey- I cannot wait for my son to get home tomorrow.
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Dear Mothering Heart: Stages
Dear mothering heart,
Each new stage in your child’s life is full of joy. Remember
that.
You may lament the loss of carrying your child up the
stairs.
You may wish you could rock them after they crawl onto your
lap.
Your kisses will lose their magical power to heal injuries.
It is okay.
Each new stage in your child’s life will bring you joy.
You might inspect insects or dress up fancy just because you
can.
You are an after school tutor.
You listen to dreams.
You give counsel about friendships.
The hugs may be fewer (or may not) but they will be noticed
more.
Remember, do not miss what was, appreciate what is.
Do not wonder or worry about what is coming. Pray for their future and their present. Be present.
Treasure the smiles of today. Pay attention to the words
that are spoken.
Look into your child’s eyes, no matter how big or small they
are.
Each new stage in your child’s life will bring you joy if you embrace it.
Monday, April 16, 2012
Dear Mother
Dear Mother's Heart,
Remember when your children misbehave, it is not a reflection of your parenting.
You teach. You model good behavior. You guide.
They misbehave because they are young. They are testing the limits- the rules. They are learning right from wrong.
Remember that you are their mother. You love. You teach. You pray. You guide. You discipline. You let them grow. You do your best.
Dear Mother's Heart,
When your children are grown, remember that their behavior is not a reflection of your parenting.
You taught. You gave. You loved. You failed in some ways. You excelled in others.
When your children are grown, they are grown. They are who they want to be or they are trying to be who they want to become. Their actions reflect their heart, not your parenting.
Remember that you are their mother. You love. You hope. You pray. You want the best.
Let them be who they are. Love. Let go.
Dear Mother's Heart,
You will not escape pain- now when the kids are young or when they are grown.
You will also have great delights. Motherhood is not simple. Some seem to have perfection. Perfect mothering is a condition of the heart, not an end result in a relationship.
Does perfection exist? It seems so when you look at others. You do not know what they have or don't have. Remember this- despite circumstances, no one can control love. Don't ever give up on love. Never stop.
Take comfort in this- you birthed your children. Many don't.
Take comfort in this- you pray. Many don't.
Take comfort in this- you love. Many don't.
They may or may not pray or love in return. It doesn't matter.
It really doesn't matter.
Love anyway.
You may be close to your children. You may not.
They may or may not appreciate you.
Keep loving.
Dear Mothering heart,
I wish that I could be the woman I'd like to be.
I wish I were the mom that I strive to be...
I wish I were the daughter that I want to be.
I wish that I could eliminate the struggles.
Struggling is part of motherhood, I think.
I want so much more for you.
So I pray.
Love and prayer are essential to motherhood.
Love. Never stop loving.
Remember when your children misbehave, it is not a reflection of your parenting.
You teach. You model good behavior. You guide.
They misbehave because they are young. They are testing the limits- the rules. They are learning right from wrong.
Remember that you are their mother. You love. You teach. You pray. You guide. You discipline. You let them grow. You do your best.
Dear Mother's Heart,
When your children are grown, remember that their behavior is not a reflection of your parenting.
You taught. You gave. You loved. You failed in some ways. You excelled in others.
When your children are grown, they are grown. They are who they want to be or they are trying to be who they want to become. Their actions reflect their heart, not your parenting.
Remember that you are their mother. You love. You hope. You pray. You want the best.
Let them be who they are. Love. Let go.
Dear Mother's Heart,
You will not escape pain- now when the kids are young or when they are grown.
You will also have great delights. Motherhood is not simple. Some seem to have perfection. Perfect mothering is a condition of the heart, not an end result in a relationship.
Does perfection exist? It seems so when you look at others. You do not know what they have or don't have. Remember this- despite circumstances, no one can control love. Don't ever give up on love. Never stop.
Take comfort in this- you birthed your children. Many don't.
Take comfort in this- you pray. Many don't.
Take comfort in this- you love. Many don't.
They may or may not pray or love in return. It doesn't matter.
It really doesn't matter.
Love anyway.
You may be close to your children. You may not.
They may or may not appreciate you.
Keep loving.
Dear Mothering heart,
I wish that I could be the woman I'd like to be.
I wish I were the mom that I strive to be...
I wish I were the daughter that I want to be.
I wish that I could eliminate the struggles.
Struggling is part of motherhood, I think.
I want so much more for you.
So I pray.
Love and prayer are essential to motherhood.
Love. Never stop loving.
1 Peter 4:8 Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins.
Wednesday, August 03, 2011
Destination Unknown
I was in the international terminal of the airport. Going through customs was proving to be a pain. Why were they searching every single item I owned? That's what it felt like. I was excited to be going on a trip and I was getting impatient to get the trip started.
Then, I woke up.
I sipped on the coffee that was tenderly left on the bedside table by my adoring husband.
I made my way into the living room and cuddled with a reading 7 year old. We discussed big screen TV's and why people can't live forever.
My 10 year old woke up. I inspected his arm, which is hurting from a fall he took on the soccer field (incidentally in the same place he broke it a few years ago).
I searched for missing legos for my 6 year old.
I discovered that my 3 year old calls a specific cereal "dry cereal" because when daddy gave it to her he let her have it dry and called it dry cereal. So, in her mind, only one kind of cereal is "dry" and she wanted milk with it.
Some days I feel like I am in a foreign world. How did I get here being doted on, discussing philosophy, doctoring kids, and deciphering language barriers.
My destination today is unknown.
I am trying to convince the kids it would be fun to visit the library and get signed up for library cards. One wants to go to the pool. One wants to play legos. One wants to play video games (Oh, who am I kidding? They all want to do that.) One wants to follow her older brother around and copy his actions.
I am not at all sure where we will end up. I do know it will be an eventful journey.
Then, I woke up.
I sipped on the coffee that was tenderly left on the bedside table by my adoring husband.
I made my way into the living room and cuddled with a reading 7 year old. We discussed big screen TV's and why people can't live forever.
My 10 year old woke up. I inspected his arm, which is hurting from a fall he took on the soccer field (incidentally in the same place he broke it a few years ago).
I searched for missing legos for my 6 year old.
I discovered that my 3 year old calls a specific cereal "dry cereal" because when daddy gave it to her he let her have it dry and called it dry cereal. So, in her mind, only one kind of cereal is "dry" and she wanted milk with it.
Some days I feel like I am in a foreign world. How did I get here being doted on, discussing philosophy, doctoring kids, and deciphering language barriers.
My destination today is unknown.
I am trying to convince the kids it would be fun to visit the library and get signed up for library cards. One wants to go to the pool. One wants to play legos. One wants to play video games (Oh, who am I kidding? They all want to do that.) One wants to follow her older brother around and copy his actions.
I am not at all sure where we will end up. I do know it will be an eventful journey.
Wednesday, May 04, 2011
Mom, I'm growing up
Today my oldest is off to camp. He leaves today for a 3 day outdoor science camp. To state that he is excited is to understate his enthusiasm.
He is not a morning kid at all but this morning he bolted out of bed when I said, "Today's the day!" He responded, "Really!?" and then jumped out from under the covers.
His elation is endearing.
My morning was a blaze of activity. My off-to-camp son was unpacking and repacking items. My kindergartner needed a hat for class (and not just any hat will do). My 1st grader needed me to write in his family journal. I was making 2 dozen muffins for a teacher appreciation breakfast. It was insanely busy. After everyone was where they needed to be, I grabbed a coffee and was hit with a realization: this camp is a milestone.
This is the first time my son has gone to an overnight camp.
Oh, I've know this for weeks but today it hit me.
Where did the time go?
Five years ago I walked him into Kindergarten. I took so many pictures. We hugged. He didn't want me to leave. We hugged again.
Today, I walked in as he put up his bags. I gave him him a high five (because that was the only display of affection he wanted at school). I lingered. I had trouble leaving.
Independence. I want it for my kids. But, in the face of a new independence, I felt unsure, uneasy, frozen, unready, and clinging. That couldn't have been me. No. Surely not.
Overnight camp. A milestone... a realization that my son dually craves independence and needs nurturing.
Overnight camp. A milestone... a realization that I mature as a mom as my kids age.
I became a mom 10 years ago. I am growing up a little today.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
I see love
"Art is not what you see, but what you make others see."Edward Degas
Birthday Gifts from My Kids~
My youngest son: He's enjoying a confetti party with mom.
My middle son: He's enjoying flowers with mom.
My oldest son: Mom's riding on an elephant while the sun is setting.
Makes you smile, doesn't it?
My daughter: Dora. Just because she loves to color and she loves Dora.
She brought me this: A perfect 2 year old creation (that she tried to fold it into an airplane).
Speaking of perfect. I'm not.
I am loved.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Be Still My Heart
My heart was full.
The sun was calm and beautiful.
I found the beautiful sun and waves peaceful.
He was loud and excited.
The array of colors sent my son roaring in delight.
He knew it was beautiful and he used his whole body and voice to express himself.
I laughed in surprise at his enthusiasm.
He is wild, loud, and exciting. Always enthusiastic.
An antonym for tranquility. He screams at a peaceful sunset.
He shows me new ways to love life.
He may never be still...
but his love steadies my heart.
The sun was calm and beautiful.
I found the beautiful sun and waves peaceful.
He was loud and excited.
The array of colors sent my son roaring in delight.
He knew it was beautiful and he used his whole body and voice to express himself.
I laughed in surprise at his enthusiasm.
He is wild, loud, and exciting. Always enthusiastic.
An antonym for tranquility. He screams at a peaceful sunset.
He shows me new ways to love life.
He may never be still...
but his love steadies my heart.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Feasting at the Table
I thought yesterday would never end.
It was just a moment of exasperation. "Why don't my kids listen? Why don't they stop fighting for just a minute?"
It was a moment of frustration. "When will they play without ceasing to tattle on each other?"
It was a moment of hurt feelings. "Why does it hurt to hear my son tell me he is tired of me? After a talk about being kind, he still said, 'But, I am still tired of you, Momma.'"
It was a moment of exhaustion. "When will my husband get home?"
Finally, the day turned into evening.
We gathered together for dinner. One by one the children came to the table. They asked over and over if they could eat, as they waited on us to finished getting everything to the table.
We said Grace. We ate. We talked. We laughed. Together.
In a moment of hilarity, I laughed at my son joking with my husband.
In a moment of adoration, I smiled at my daughter as she imitated her brothers.
In a moment of clarity, my eyes met my son's eyes and I recognized that our bond is not broken.
In the moment that I finished eating, I looked from each of my children to my husband and realized my life is full. I am thankful for each one that sits around my table.
It was just dinner.
They say that eating together as a family is important. I believe it.
Last night at dinner, I feasted on the love, the happiness, the togetherness of my family.
The best dinners are the ones when I remember the real substance at my table.
It was just a moment of exasperation. "Why don't my kids listen? Why don't they stop fighting for just a minute?"
It was a moment of frustration. "When will they play without ceasing to tattle on each other?"
It was a moment of hurt feelings. "Why does it hurt to hear my son tell me he is tired of me? After a talk about being kind, he still said, 'But, I am still tired of you, Momma.'"
It was a moment of exhaustion. "When will my husband get home?"
Finally, the day turned into evening.
We gathered together for dinner. One by one the children came to the table. They asked over and over if they could eat, as they waited on us to finished getting everything to the table.
We said Grace. We ate. We talked. We laughed. Together.
In a moment of hilarity, I laughed at my son joking with my husband.
In a moment of adoration, I smiled at my daughter as she imitated her brothers.
In a moment of clarity, my eyes met my son's eyes and I recognized that our bond is not broken.
In the moment that I finished eating, I looked from each of my children to my husband and realized my life is full. I am thankful for each one that sits around my table.
It was just dinner.
They say that eating together as a family is important. I believe it.
Last night at dinner, I feasted on the love, the happiness, the togetherness of my family.
The best dinners are the ones when I remember the real substance at my table.
Tuesday, June 08, 2010
Weird, the Baby Gate's Gone
The baby gate's gone. I took it down on Monday. Yesterday I kept catching myself staring at the bottom of the steps in amazement. The stairs look so different. Really, they do. Our entry way seems so open.
I imagine it will go up sometime again to limit access or impede mobility. Even so, the need is gone.
It's a small milestone.
Oh, I imagine some of you moms with older kids are laughing at my silliness.
But still... every time I go up and down the stairs, I pause and I think, "Weird, the gate's gone."
And, I wonder how long that feeling will last.
I like the change.
I like how the space makes me pause to notice that even though every day seems like another day doing the same thing, each day is different and my kids are growing.
They are changing.
Every day I lose a piece of the younger years (for them and me). Each loss is also a gain.
They are growing and changing but so am I.
I used to be a mom of preschoolers (at one time I had 3 age 4 and under *gasp*) and I now I am about to be a mom of 3 elementary school aged children.
Yes, this coming Fall I will be a mom to 3 elementary school boys. Wow, that causes me to pause... probably makes some teachers I know want to change schools (no, not because of my boys).
I want to be a mom that celebrates the passing of time and the growth of my children. I want to be a mom that says, "Wow, look at that!" instead of "Weird, where did the time go."
I want to grow as a mom as my children grow.
I'm smiling at the new space in front of my stairs. And, as soon as I think, "Weird, the baby gate's gone," I think, "Wow, look at all that space!"
I imagine it will go up sometime again to limit access or impede mobility. Even so, the need is gone.
It's a small milestone.
Oh, I imagine some of you moms with older kids are laughing at my silliness.
But still... every time I go up and down the stairs, I pause and I think, "Weird, the gate's gone."
And, I wonder how long that feeling will last.
I like the change.
I like how the space makes me pause to notice that even though every day seems like another day doing the same thing, each day is different and my kids are growing.
They are changing.
Every day I lose a piece of the younger years (for them and me). Each loss is also a gain.
They are growing and changing but so am I.
I used to be a mom of preschoolers (at one time I had 3 age 4 and under *gasp*) and I now I am about to be a mom of 3 elementary school aged children.
Yes, this coming Fall I will be a mom to 3 elementary school boys. Wow, that causes me to pause... probably makes some teachers I know want to change schools (no, not because of my boys).
I want to be a mom that celebrates the passing of time and the growth of my children. I want to be a mom that says, "Wow, look at that!" instead of "Weird, where did the time go."
I want to grow as a mom as my children grow.
I'm smiling at the new space in front of my stairs. And, as soon as I think, "Weird, the baby gate's gone," I think, "Wow, look at all that space!"
Monday, August 31, 2009
I'm Going to Miss This
I'm going to miss kiddie rides one day.
The kids have so much fun riding around at the fair.
However, I am not going to miss squeezing into a kiddie ride and then struggling to get the tickets out of my back pocket.
By the way, did you notice that my little guy was in two different cars? We only rode once.
Yep, right after I got the tickets out of my pocket, he decided he needed to be in the car I was in with his sister. He was tired and about to cry throughout the entire train ride. So, I gracefully switched cars.
Now that you are laughing, here are a few pictures with me smiling.
The kids have so much fun riding around at the fair.
However, I am not going to miss squeezing into a kiddie ride and then struggling to get the tickets out of my back pocket.
By the way, did you notice that my little guy was in two different cars? We only rode once.
Yep, right after I got the tickets out of my pocket, he decided he needed to be in the car I was in with his sister. He was tired and about to cry throughout the entire train ride. So, I gracefully switched cars.
Now that you are laughing, here are a few pictures with me smiling.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Mothering: My Surprised Heart
I had a stunning realization on Sunday. I had just gotten back from a nice bike ride and walked with my kids down to “the big hill” to pick blackberries. The blackberries aren’t on the big hill. They are in the bushes at the edge of the field. The boys love playing on the big hill and were thrilled for Momma to take them there after dinner. We picked a plastic container full of blackberries.
Back to my realization… I thought to myself, “I just love this.” I loved the family moment, the excitement of my kids, and picking the blackberries. It suddenly hit me that I was very, very happy- as a mom. I couldn't remember the last time I felt unsatisfied staying home with my children. What a smile that brought to my face!
I know many, many moms that long to be a stay-at-home mom. That was never the case for me. I fell into it. I had planned to back to work as soon as I could when my first son was born. I had childcare lined up. The glitch was that we were moving 4 months after my son was born. The move complicated my desire to return to work. How could I put my 6 week old through the adjustment of daycare when we would be moving a few months later and I didn't have any job prospects at our new location? I couldn't do it and I didn't. But, I did struggle.
I was torn. I felt insignificant. I struggled with feeling useful and intelligent. I knew I was intelligent, mind you. I just didn't think I was using my intelligence. I was not satisfied.
On Sunday night, I grabbed my computer and searched for an old Motherhood post. It described my internal struggle. Here's that post: Mothering: Thoughts from My Heart. It ends with this statement: "I just struggle with being content in this stay-at-home mom position."
I am not struggling with contentment as a stay-at-home mom anymore. 8 years of struggling and I am not struggling anymore. After years and years of a hurting heart, I am happy in my place in life. I was surprised at the realization. I was stunned.
For the last two days I have been thinking about what changed.
Two years ago we moved to a small town. We choose the town but I was not prepared for the change to smaller town living. It took me a while to adjust. I have embraced my town.
I am embracing a slower life style.
There aren't that many places to go. I'm at home more. Instead of running here and there, I focus on my family and my friends. I am outside more (at least in the summer). I love things such as bike rides, letting my kids play in the rain, watching the kids get excited about tadpoles from the creek, and picking berries with the kids. I've slowed down enough to enjoy little things.
I've slowed down enough to stop longing for more.
Another part of my change of heart has to do with a change in perspective. Somewhere along the way, I stopped comparing myself to others. I didn't recognize how much I was looking at what I perceived as success. I couldn't measure up to it. I don't struggle with that near as much. Slowing down changed my perspective. I don't long for the success of others. I savor moments of stillness looking at the stars, the contagious sound of laughter from my children, the huge grin on my son's face when he brings me a dandelion flower, and praying with my family. I appreciate the beauty around me.
I could write more. Maybe I will write more in another post. For now, I have to go. My 4 year old just told me this is the best day ever. I asked him why and he said "just because". So, I'm gonna get going. I have to finish my cheese grits and get ready to go to "the big hill". I told the boys we would go this morning. We don't need more blackberries. We just want to go have some fun.
I'll leave you with a picture of me from Sunday night enjoying my berries and ice cream.
(One more thing - I am reading Ann Kroeker's book Not So Fast. It is encouraging and challenging me even more to slow down. I highly recommend it.)
Back to my realization… I thought to myself, “I just love this.” I loved the family moment, the excitement of my kids, and picking the blackberries. It suddenly hit me that I was very, very happy- as a mom. I couldn't remember the last time I felt unsatisfied staying home with my children. What a smile that brought to my face!
I know many, many moms that long to be a stay-at-home mom. That was never the case for me. I fell into it. I had planned to back to work as soon as I could when my first son was born. I had childcare lined up. The glitch was that we were moving 4 months after my son was born. The move complicated my desire to return to work. How could I put my 6 week old through the adjustment of daycare when we would be moving a few months later and I didn't have any job prospects at our new location? I couldn't do it and I didn't. But, I did struggle.
I was torn. I felt insignificant. I struggled with feeling useful and intelligent. I knew I was intelligent, mind you. I just didn't think I was using my intelligence. I was not satisfied.
On Sunday night, I grabbed my computer and searched for an old Motherhood post. It described my internal struggle. Here's that post: Mothering: Thoughts from My Heart. It ends with this statement: "I just struggle with being content in this stay-at-home mom position."
I am not struggling with contentment as a stay-at-home mom anymore. 8 years of struggling and I am not struggling anymore. After years and years of a hurting heart, I am happy in my place in life. I was surprised at the realization. I was stunned.
For the last two days I have been thinking about what changed.
Two years ago we moved to a small town. We choose the town but I was not prepared for the change to smaller town living. It took me a while to adjust. I have embraced my town.
I am embracing a slower life style.
There aren't that many places to go. I'm at home more. Instead of running here and there, I focus on my family and my friends. I am outside more (at least in the summer). I love things such as bike rides, letting my kids play in the rain, watching the kids get excited about tadpoles from the creek, and picking berries with the kids. I've slowed down enough to enjoy little things.
I've slowed down enough to stop longing for more.
Another part of my change of heart has to do with a change in perspective. Somewhere along the way, I stopped comparing myself to others. I didn't recognize how much I was looking at what I perceived as success. I couldn't measure up to it. I don't struggle with that near as much. Slowing down changed my perspective. I don't long for the success of others. I savor moments of stillness looking at the stars, the contagious sound of laughter from my children, the huge grin on my son's face when he brings me a dandelion flower, and praying with my family. I appreciate the beauty around me.
I could write more. Maybe I will write more in another post. For now, I have to go. My 4 year old just told me this is the best day ever. I asked him why and he said "just because". So, I'm gonna get going. I have to finish my cheese grits and get ready to go to "the big hill". I told the boys we would go this morning. We don't need more blackberries. We just want to go have some fun.
I'll leave you with a picture of me from Sunday night enjoying my berries and ice cream.
(One more thing - I am reading Ann Kroeker's book Not So Fast. It is encouraging and challenging me even more to slow down. I highly recommend it.)
Monday, June 29, 2009
Mom Moment: I am going to miss security blankets one day
My 4 year-old son has a sleeping buddy. His buddy, Bobby, is a blue lion that has a stuffed head and a blanket body. Every night, my son spreads him out just right on his pillow so he can sleep. He will only sleep on one side of Bobby. He says it is the cooler side. We make sure that Bobby is with us if there is a chance for sleep (nap or nighttime - Bobby is a must).
When we got ready for our vacation, we made sure Bobby was packed. During the hour and half drive to the airport, my son asked for Bobby. He was tired already. My husband told him that Bobby was packed but that we would get him out of the suitcase when we got to the airport.
There was a lot to do at the airport. The kids were excited. People were everywhere. We had to check in. We took our bags to luggage check-in and then we waited in line to go through security. My son was tired. He complained about not wanting to stand in line. He wanted someone to carry him. He wanted Bobby. My husband gave me a look and, in an instant, I knew we were in trouble.
We broke the news gently that Bobby was still packed in a suitcase. My son's heart broke. We assured him that we would get Bobby as soon as we landed and got our bags. He cried and cried and continued to cry. He cried for an hour as we waited to get on the plane.
The trip was long. We had one 4 hour flight, an hour lay over, and then a 45 minute flight. We were tired (especially me) when we arrived. I was standing with family watching the kids run around when I heard the announcement for anyone missing luggage to report to the airline desk. I watched my husband come get his ticket and I asked him if we were missing bags. He said, "Only one" and he gave me that look again.
Sure enough, all of our bags made it except the bag with Bobby.
That night, my son handled not having Bobby like a champ. He was extremely tired and happy to be with family. As I helped him fold a blanket and place it on his pillow, he said, "Momma, this doesn't feel like Bobby."
The whole situation squeezed this Momma's heart.
Our bag was returned. I felt like a hero when I handed my son his treasured Bobby.
I know I am going to miss his love of Bobby one day.
When we got ready for our vacation, we made sure Bobby was packed. During the hour and half drive to the airport, my son asked for Bobby. He was tired already. My husband told him that Bobby was packed but that we would get him out of the suitcase when we got to the airport.
There was a lot to do at the airport. The kids were excited. People were everywhere. We had to check in. We took our bags to luggage check-in and then we waited in line to go through security. My son was tired. He complained about not wanting to stand in line. He wanted someone to carry him. He wanted Bobby. My husband gave me a look and, in an instant, I knew we were in trouble.
We broke the news gently that Bobby was still packed in a suitcase. My son's heart broke. We assured him that we would get Bobby as soon as we landed and got our bags. He cried and cried and continued to cry. He cried for an hour as we waited to get on the plane.
The trip was long. We had one 4 hour flight, an hour lay over, and then a 45 minute flight. We were tired (especially me) when we arrived. I was standing with family watching the kids run around when I heard the announcement for anyone missing luggage to report to the airline desk. I watched my husband come get his ticket and I asked him if we were missing bags. He said, "Only one" and he gave me that look again.
Sure enough, all of our bags made it except the bag with Bobby.
That night, my son handled not having Bobby like a champ. He was extremely tired and happy to be with family. As I helped him fold a blanket and place it on his pillow, he said, "Momma, this doesn't feel like Bobby."
The whole situation squeezed this Momma's heart.
Our bag was returned. I felt like a hero when I handed my son his treasured Bobby.
I know I am going to miss his love of Bobby one day.
Monday, May 18, 2009
We'll Play...Come Hail or High Water
Not too many months ago, I let my kids go out and play in the rain. Then, I made a mistake. I posted a facebook status letting my friends know what my kids were doing. I got a mixture of comments. The one that really caught me off-guard was the friend that suggested my kids might get pneumonia. My kids had a blast! I had a lot of fun watching them. They didn't get sick. They played together and laughed a lot.
I think it's good to let kids go out and get wet and (gasp) dirty sometimes. Kids love to explore and what's more fun than exploring nature? I like letting them see God's creation in new ways. Getting wet requires planning or, at least, clean-up. It is worth it. More times than not, I cannot resist letting them splash in puddles or run in the rain. I smile when I see my kids enjoying being outside - rain or shine.
So... one day last month as I pulled the car into the garage, it began to hail. My kids (starting with my oldest) began begging to go out into the hail. I hestitated for a moment.
Some of my thoughts were: "What's the risk?" "What's the clean-up?" "Will they even like it?" "How long will they last in hail?"
I told them they could play outside if, and only if, they waited until I got my camera.
I think it's good to let kids go out and get wet and (gasp) dirty sometimes. Kids love to explore and what's more fun than exploring nature? I like letting them see God's creation in new ways. Getting wet requires planning or, at least, clean-up. It is worth it. More times than not, I cannot resist letting them splash in puddles or run in the rain. I smile when I see my kids enjoying being outside - rain or shine.
So... one day last month as I pulled the car into the garage, it began to hail. My kids (starting with my oldest) began begging to go out into the hail. I hestitated for a moment.
Some of my thoughts were: "What's the risk?" "What's the clean-up?" "Will they even like it?" "How long will they last in hail?"
I told them they could play outside if, and only if, they waited until I got my camera.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Job Requirement: Language Translator
I love the unexpected skills I have aquired as a mother.
The other night at dinner the boys began talking about video games. My 3 year-old started talking about the game with the idiot in it. He was so excited. Yes, that's right he was ecstatic about the idiot.
"The rabbit game has an idiot in it!" "It really does!"
We recently got the Raving Rabits Wii game and there was no doubt that was what he was talking about. My husband and I are looking at each other and back at our son in disbelief.
My husband says, "That isn't a nice word."
"There is an idiot in the game and it is so cool. It is funny!!"
Suddenly, I got it.
My translator mode had switched on.
"Ohhhh, is there an Indian in the game?"
A look of relief settles on my son's face.
"YES! That's the word I was trying to say."
The other night at dinner the boys began talking about video games. My 3 year-old started talking about the game with the idiot in it. He was so excited. Yes, that's right he was ecstatic about the idiot.
"The rabbit game has an idiot in it!" "It really does!"
We recently got the Raving Rabits Wii game and there was no doubt that was what he was talking about. My husband and I are looking at each other and back at our son in disbelief.
My husband says, "That isn't a nice word."
"There is an idiot in the game and it is so cool. It is funny!!"
Suddenly, I got it.
My translator mode had switched on.
"Ohhhh, is there an Indian in the game?"
A look of relief settles on my son's face.
"YES! That's the word I was trying to say."
Saturday, January 24, 2009
The Beauty of Flannel
Last night, before I got my sleeping husband off the couch, I decided that I should wear something other than flannel PJs to bed. It had been awhile since I had slipped into bed feeling beautiful. I grabbed a comfortable, sweet nightie and went to bed. It felt nice. I felt younger.
Fast forward to Saturday morning.
I heard the stomping of feet. My 3 year-old comes into our room. We chat for a few minutes. Then, the 7 year-old and 5 year-old arrive. They want to snuggle. Before I knew it, I had some very wiggly boys all vying for my attention. They were very snuggly and my hands kept moving back and forth between pulling my nightie up to cover my chest to checking to make sure it was down far enough. I mean, my hands were: up down, up down, up down, up down.
I was clinging to my clothes as tightly as I was clinging to the idea that I want to savor the Saturday morning snuggling.
In that battle between my heart and my modesty, I realized:
Flannel PJs are beautiful... especially on Saturday morning.
Fast forward to Saturday morning.
I heard the stomping of feet. My 3 year-old comes into our room. We chat for a few minutes. Then, the 7 year-old and 5 year-old arrive. They want to snuggle. Before I knew it, I had some very wiggly boys all vying for my attention. They were very snuggly and my hands kept moving back and forth between pulling my nightie up to cover my chest to checking to make sure it was down far enough. I mean, my hands were: up down, up down, up down, up down.
I was clinging to my clothes as tightly as I was clinging to the idea that I want to savor the Saturday morning snuggling.
In that battle between my heart and my modesty, I realized:
Flannel PJs are beautiful... especially on Saturday morning.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Friday Night Refreshment
Friday was refreshing to my soul.
I will warn you: I am writing this post to solidify my thoughts in my mind. My words may or may not resonate with you.
My husband worked last weekend so he took Friday off. My husband manned the home front and I got to go to MOPS (Mothers-of-Preschoolers) without the kids. After MOPS, I stopped by home for a bit and then picked up my son from school and ran a few necessary errands. Everything always takes longer than expected and I did not have time for my planned stop at Starbucks. I had to get home because my husband and my oldest son were headed to a Cub Scout lock-in. I convinced myself that missing out on the latte was not a big deal because I was going to pamper myself that night. All I had to do was get the 3 little ones in bed and then I had the house to myself! I spent the day debating in my mind what I would do with my alone time. Maybe I would scrapbook. Maybe I would organize my craft projects. Maybe I would surf blogland. Maybe I would take a nice long bubble bath.
I came home to chaos. I came home to dinner (It was appreciated and delicious). The kids were loud. They were demanding. It was not unlike it is sometimes at that time of the day. My husband was so stressed out that he said he didn't think he was going to eat. He did eat right before he left (an answer to my prayer, I think, because my man gets grumpy on an empty stomach).
I let my 2 youngest boys stay up an hour after their bedtime. I treated them because they were insanely jealous about their brother getting to stay up half the night at the lock-in. The boys got to take a nice long bubble bath in my tub (they love my over sized tub). I spent the time enjoying my daughter. I dressed her up in a few adorable outfits, trying to see how cute she will be in her overdue 1 year picture.
The kids were in bed at 9(ish). I came downstairs and surveyed the damage. Oh my good gravy, the house was a disaster zone. In my struggle to placate my younger boys as I cleared the table (boy, I do not miss the single parenting of my Army wife days), I had pulled out a few tubs of toys out of the toy closet. I had also loaned them a couple of my blankets to play with. Those misplaced items were icing on the cake. The family room was a mess of misplaced toys.
The kitchen was just as crazy. It took time to finish the breakfast, lunch and dinner dishes from the day.
I walked into my room sometime after midnight and tried to focus on the large pile of clothes on my bed. It looked like so much... and then it dawned on me...oh, I seeeee, that pile of dirty clothes is now combined with the pile of clean clothes on top of my bed (yes, laundry challenges me). With a sigh, I pushed the pile onto floor and smiled.
I smiled because I realized that I make a difference. I often -most every day and every week- lament to myself that I cannot get anything accomplished. I look at my day and feel dissatisfied. I struggle with feeling insignificant. I don't finish much of what I start in one day so I struggle with feelings of failure.
Maybe this is a classic house-wife story. I don't care if it is. I think in the classic story, the wife gets angry. I am not frustrated. Friday night gave me an appreciation for myself. That doesn't happen very often.
I will warn you: I am writing this post to solidify my thoughts in my mind. My words may or may not resonate with you.
My husband worked last weekend so he took Friday off. My husband manned the home front and I got to go to MOPS (Mothers-of-Preschoolers) without the kids. After MOPS, I stopped by home for a bit and then picked up my son from school and ran a few necessary errands. Everything always takes longer than expected and I did not have time for my planned stop at Starbucks. I had to get home because my husband and my oldest son were headed to a Cub Scout lock-in. I convinced myself that missing out on the latte was not a big deal because I was going to pamper myself that night. All I had to do was get the 3 little ones in bed and then I had the house to myself! I spent the day debating in my mind what I would do with my alone time. Maybe I would scrapbook. Maybe I would organize my craft projects. Maybe I would surf blogland. Maybe I would take a nice long bubble bath.
I came home to chaos. I came home to dinner (It was appreciated and delicious). The kids were loud. They were demanding. It was not unlike it is sometimes at that time of the day. My husband was so stressed out that he said he didn't think he was going to eat. He did eat right before he left (an answer to my prayer, I think, because my man gets grumpy on an empty stomach).
I let my 2 youngest boys stay up an hour after their bedtime. I treated them because they were insanely jealous about their brother getting to stay up half the night at the lock-in. The boys got to take a nice long bubble bath in my tub (they love my over sized tub). I spent the time enjoying my daughter. I dressed her up in a few adorable outfits, trying to see how cute she will be in her overdue 1 year picture.
The kids were in bed at 9(ish). I came downstairs and surveyed the damage. Oh my good gravy, the house was a disaster zone. In my struggle to placate my younger boys as I cleared the table (boy, I do not miss the single parenting of my Army wife days), I had pulled out a few tubs of toys out of the toy closet. I had also loaned them a couple of my blankets to play with. Those misplaced items were icing on the cake. The family room was a mess of misplaced toys.
The kitchen was just as crazy. It took time to finish the breakfast, lunch and dinner dishes from the day.
I walked into my room sometime after midnight and tried to focus on the large pile of clothes on my bed. It looked like so much... and then it dawned on me...oh, I seeeee, that pile of dirty clothes is now combined with the pile of clean clothes on top of my bed (yes, laundry challenges me). With a sigh, I pushed the pile onto floor and smiled.
I smiled because I realized that I make a difference. I often -most every day and every week- lament to myself that I cannot get anything accomplished. I look at my day and feel dissatisfied. I struggle with feeling insignificant. I don't finish much of what I start in one day so I struggle with feelings of failure.
Maybe this is a classic house-wife story. I don't care if it is. I think in the classic story, the wife gets angry. I am not frustrated. Friday night gave me an appreciation for myself. That doesn't happen very often.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
I will miss wake up calls one day
My hubby has been off from work since Christmas Eve. Everyday (with the exception of Christmas because we made a point to get up before the kids) our boys come in our room and wake us up. (They do this on Saturday mornings, usually.) They aren't sweet Rise and Shine moments. They are bugle blowing revelry moments. It starts with a "Momma?" or "Daddy?" and then the noise sky rockets in about 5 seconds. Most of the time, one kid climbs in the bed and then it's on... they are crawling all over us, pulling on the covers, fighting over who gets to snuggle with who.
I am not a morning person. I have to really work hard to not say much at all (for me that is being kind in the morning). My husband is usually very gracious. Although, this morning, he was not ready for the wake up call.
It occurred to me just a few minutes ago that we are going to miss those crash landings into morning one day. We are going to miss our boys fighting to snuggle with us and getting really excited about getting in our bed.
Quote of the day:
"I feel like I have had a chihuahua barking in my ear all day."
Said by hubby (after 4 days off from work).
I am not a morning person. I have to really work hard to not say much at all (for me that is being kind in the morning). My husband is usually very gracious. Although, this morning, he was not ready for the wake up call.
It occurred to me just a few minutes ago that we are going to miss those crash landings into morning one day. We are going to miss our boys fighting to snuggle with us and getting really excited about getting in our bed.
Quote of the day:
"I feel like I have had a chihuahua barking in my ear all day."
Said by hubby (after 4 days off from work).
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