The jollification process must begin

If you are like me, you love Christmas time. You love the lights and the music, the bustle and the feeling of good will in the air. You like sharing a knowing smile with a stranger as you wish each other Merry Christmas. You like giving gifts, making cookies, drinking eggnog, and seeing your children sing "Away in a Manger" in front of the church.

But if you are like me, you might suddenly find yourself nearing the end of November and you have not done a single thing to get into the Christmas spirit. Suddenly you start getting these waves of panic that December is almost here and, once it comes, Christmas is almost over and you will be so lost in the bustle that you won't have time to linger in the festive feeling, to stretch your feet toward the fire and listen to the sad strains of "I'll be Home for Christmas" and just be....jolly.

I am here to help myself, during these few days leading up to Thanksgiving, start that much needed jollification process.  Reminding myself of all the reasons I love Christmas time, all the things I'm so thankful for and beginning to ponder what little tokens I want to give or the acts I want to do for the people that I love.

Perhaps we are not ready to hang the stockings, decorate the tree and blow up that huge inflatable Santa Clause (yes, I have one of those), but I think we all agree that readiness starts in our hearts and not in our Christmas lights. IF you are like me, you are ready to think of the Savior that came for mankind so many years ago, to think of what he did for us and what HIs coming means for our lives now. We are ready to look at the world around us with a greater kindness and a greater sympathy.

If you are like me, you are ready to get your jolly on.

For the next few days participate with me in a few jollification exercises so when Thanksgiving is over and we get to strap our outlandishly large tree to the top of our station wagon we will be fully in the Christmas spirit.

Thursday: Pre-Christmas purge.
This little piece of packing is a real energizer. One big bag, get it, and fill it. I especially like to sneak into the kids room when they aren't looking and throw the forgotten old toys or the stained clothes into that bag (obviously the super bad ones should go in the trash). Look at your husbands stuff. Maybe you can get away with getting rid of some ugly clothes that he won't miss or a few pairs of his surplus of shoes. A few books, a few clothing items in your own closet; tie it, shove it in the car and drop it off at the thrift store or the Salvation Army.

Friday: Make a list.
Write down a list of all the people you plan on making something scrumptious for. The trash man, the neighbors, your children's teachers, an elderly person at church. Ask your children if they have someone in mind. You might not do the cookie tin thing but maybe you have a person or two in mind that a kind gesture would mean a great deal to.

One day a month or so ago, my daughter was very serious and almost a little teary. She said "mom, I want to bring some food to the man down the street. I think he is poor." Now as a mature adult, I know that the person in question is likely less poor than we are. I know that, though there is only a shop and a trailer over looking a stunning view, the property is probably a secondary property and not his only home. She was so adamant that we needed to bring him something and I listened to her heart instead of telling her what was what. I was able to explain that leftover soup was probably unnecessary but cookies would be appreciated. We had never spoken to this man, after all he lives way down the street and is not always there; maybe he didn't need food or money but perhaps he did need that small gesture of a jar of cookies with a note written in my daughters sweet hand "from your neighbors, Daphne, Mason, Drake and Watson".

 I learned a valuable lesson that day. Maybe the guy didn't eat the cookies because he thought we were weird or maybe he thought it was sweet and wonderful...I don't know. But I'll tell you that my kids thought it was awesome. Such a little thing that I could have easily blown off but I didn't and it made a difference to them.

Saturday: Have a dance.
Turn on a nice slow song like "I'm dreaming of a white Christmas" or a real twirler like "Carol of the Bells" and grab your lovelies. Dance around the room in spite of yourself.

Sunday: Watch "Charlie Browns Christmas"

Monday: Use the words "thank you" or "I'm thankful for" 20 times. I'm sure you don't need examples but we all need a little awareness of how infrequently we say those words to the people we are actually the most thankful for.

Tuesday: You will be in the Christmas spirit so stay there! and enjoy each day building up to "THE DAY". The world can always use a little more merry and bright.

 

And if you are like me, you want to bring merriness to your little world, wherever and whoever that might be.

Another lesson from the little people

 

I have been giving lengthy thought to my decision to homeschool as of late. Not merely because the day in and day out routine has been a bit trying these past few weeks but because Mason Has been attending speech therapy at our local Elementary school. These might seem rather unrelated but perhaps you will understand my process as we go along.

 

Mason goes on Mondays and Watson and I wait in hall chairs and watch the children pass by and witness the different dynamics that one can witness in a 45 minute span.  Mason sits with me waiting for his speech therapist saying "there's my friend" every time a child passes. My heart hurts, but he has always had that affect on my . Some kids say hi as they pass by and many just look at him like he's weird. Every Monday he tells me he is going to have recess and play basketball with his friends. I remind him that we are just going to practice our sounds.

 Last week his teacher says to me, "he keeps asking to play outside. I think it is fine as long as you stay with him". My mommy's heart was sincerely grateful. We held hands down the long hall and went outside where a multitude of kids were playing basketball, jumping rope and twirling hula hoops. Mason ran to join. He bounced a red ball and tried over and over to make a basket. He ran up to about half a dozen children and asked if they would play with them. He jabbered on in his trademark way, only half the words comprehendible. The kids were called back to class and I called Mason to me. He said "yes ma'am" and ran to me. We walked back down the hall hand in hand and Mason said "that was awesome". I said "Mason, you are awesome".

I felt a real need to cry that evening, I mean, despite my age, I felt that a real good cry would do me good. I didn't because it takes energy to work up a good emotional break down and frankly I was too tired.

 

The truth is, I just want to make sure my kids have what they need, what they want, and what is the best for them. Long story short, since the thoughts in my head spanned weeks and months, I considered my decision to homeschool over again. The additional truth I came to is of course the same truth I have come to over and over, I must do what I know I must do. I must endeavor to guard my children's hearts and help them learn to guard those same hearts as they grow, for as long as I can.

 

 And, as long as the days sometimes seem, they are passing quickly. I feel it, I know it, I see it.

 

When Mason was first born and we entered that most difficult period of fighting for his health and wholeness, his quality of life and growth, I would say "I know it will get easier". I said that for six years. Now I realize it has gotten easier.

 

 I want to be there for the moments because they pass more quickly than we realize even when we are telling people how fast the time is flying. We say it in a cliché way but it is a beautiful and painful reality.

 

I want the quality but I also want the quantity.

 If I didn't have the quantity I might have missed my little Drake telling me he was going to "push me in a hole" (said in his best mean voice).

Or Mason say to that, "no, not mom. I will get you out".

 

I might have missed this prayer of that same two year old, "God help dad with the 'dition. Help dad teach mom to climb a ladder..."

 

I would not get half the hugs. I love love love when Drake puts his arms around me and says "I love my mom".

 

The other day I was watching Mason try to hit the balls his dad was throwing to him and he sailed one out of my parents yard, well over the fence. My mom and I did the wave from the sidelines and cheered like nothing else. Mason came to sit by me while his sister was up to bat and said "I am super awesome."

 

Today while I was teaching Daphne her math lesson she got frustrated and said "I don't get it! What, the answer is just supposed to magically appear?" in a perfect annoyed eight year old voice. It was so random, I laughed out loud, which of course was a bad idea because she thought I was making fun of her.

 

Anyway, I could go on an on. I am just really stuck on ordinary moments right now. They are so amazing, so organic, so wonderful; they are what makes my world go round.

 

Quantity moments is what I am in it for.

 

 

 

 children running in a meadow

 

Child trying very hard to be cooperative

 

child who took his mommy's phone

 

Child being practically perfect in every way

 

Lovely children in a meadow

book stack

IT was a new years resolution I determined on at the beginning of this year that motivated my then pregnant self to resource a little more faithfully in the parenting department. I have always been a fairly even keeled pregnant woman, in fact, despite uncomfortable pregnancies, I was always pretty happy. Happy to eat whatever I wanted. Happy to have an excuse if I needed one to sit on the couch with my feet up, etc. Then along came my fourth pregnancy and I don't even know what happened. I was, how can I put it graciously, imbalanced. Even though I tried hard not to show it, I was ready to cry in my coffee, cry in my tea, cry in my yogurt, on my cereal and my other carbohydrate filled food in general, 95 percent of the time. Plus, I felt irritated all the time.
 I remember my husband looking at me and saying "what is wrong with you?"
"Well I'm pregnant duh. It's not my fault I've been an angel every other pregnancy and now you get to see what the rest of the male sex has to deal with". No, I did not say that. I took a tear filled look at myself with the intention of making the inevitable  remaining months of pregnancy more pleasant for everyone.

 Long story short ,I knew I needed to just remind myself of the principles of parenting, the reasons I chose to homeschool and why I was married in general (just kidding). I stacked every book I had ever purchased on those three things (parenting, homeschooling and marriage), ordered a few more and committed to read fifteen minutes every day out of that stack.

 Every single evening I lugged my largess to the treadmill  and walked my two miles at 3.5 MPH with a book in hand. It was one of the best things I could have done. I started feeling inspired, empowered and basically just encouraged. Very often I would read much more than fifteen minutes because the words were giving me the direction I was craving. Sufficed to say I have continued this habit all year even after my baby was born and happily my hormones went back to their regular balance.

Being a parent of four, my times of binge reading have faded into oblivion. I remember staying up till 2 a.m. in order to finish a riveting mystery I just couldn't put down or reading Pride and Prejudice over the weekend just because I felt a hankering for Mr. Darcy, or reading five books at the same time...successfully.

Maybe we as moms can't blast through a book in one sitting or maybe you never liked to read that way anyway, but I don't care who you are, everyone has time for fifteen minutes. I strongly recommend developing this powerful habit. If you have more than one kid you know they might have the same mom and dad but they are widely different.  Though our discipline should be consistent, different kids need different approaches.

Since we are talking about parenting, I won't include the stack of marriage books (save that for another time) but I will include some of the homeschooling recommendations because school is too intertwined in everyday living for me. The top six are wonderful reads and some of the bottom titles I have not yet finished but I intend to. Some were hard to find and I picked them up used. Glean what speaks to you. Sometimes just a little change brings about wonderfully positive results.

Home Grown Kids By, Dorothy and Raymond Moore
Hints on Child Training By, Trumbull
For the children's sake, By, Susan Schaeffer Macaulay
Home Built Discipline By, Raymond and Dorothy Moore
Child Training Tips By, Reb Bradley
If Jesus were a parent By, Perkins
Guardians of Purity By Julie Hiramine
Bring up boys By, Dobson
Bringing up Girls By Dobson
Home spun Schools By, Raymond and Dorothy Moore
THe strong willed child By Dobson
Dare to discipline By Dobson
The ten commandments of parenting By Ed Young
I love this thing called parenting...well, most of the time By. Wendy Treat
MomSense By, Jean blackmer

If you have some books to recommend I would love to hear them and add them to my ever growing stack. Much love.

When my kids become wild and unruly, I use a nice, safe playpen. When they're finished, I climb out. ~Erma Bombeck

To blog or not to blog...that is the question

If the answer exists definitively it would have to be "to blave...", I mean "to blog", in my halting, periodic, irregular way. This blog is about parenting and about life and love and generally just whatever I feel like. Saying that, I'm going to do a bunch of posts on parenting. Not sure what they will consist of yet...but be assured they will be fabulous.

I don't know if I am the only mom who has read parenting books where they delineate how your child "should" behave but don't follow up with "this is how you get your child to behave" .  A child should wait patiently for your attention when in public, a child should ask to be excused from the table. a child should gladly share toys with younger children and give preference to older people. A child should eat vegetables and not come out of their room in the morning until 7. A child should refrain from being obnoxious in public. A child should not talk back, or argue.... and about 300 other "shoulds" both viable and ridiculous.

 "But how?"

 I have questioned the innocent paper on more than one occasion while shaking the book in a paroxysm of frustration. They all make it sound so cut and dry, so easy peasy.

 Well, based on my experience with four amazing, unique personalities in the journey I started over 8 years ago, I have some words to say. They may be helpful to you or just humorous, or maybe a bit of both.

 If I have been inconsistent lately in an internet presence I have been endeavoring to be very consistent in my home presence. My mental, emotional and physical pursuits have been focused on  my present purpose. I have been doing the mom thing with a vengeance. My cape is starched, my hair is flying and I have been working on a more graceful variation of a crash landing. This is real life people and we have to be on our game, we have to be "present".

So my word for tonight on parenting is this:
You can read the play book repeatedly but you have to have a minute knowledge of your individual players, a realization of their strengths, an awareness of their propensities, their personality, their individuality, their soul, in order to place them advantageously.
I hate the box kids get placed in, the labels they so often amass (believe me, I have a son who would be given five or six of these).  I had these little beauties and now I am called to parent them, to train them, discipline them, protect them and to love them. So watch, listen, observe, evaluate and do it all with an expression of love in your eyes and with the frequent words on your tongue "you are just so amazing to me".

Real moments, real imperfections, real life adventure.

 

Ode to time

This is not just another "where has the time gone" post or even a "treasure the moments" post. If it is anything, it is a blend of "live in the moment" and "God help me find time to have a moment" as I transition from a chaotic bedtime rush to a quiet and peaceful state where my rambunctious kids are returning to their angelic personages in sleeping bliss. Okay, so it isn't quiet per se as my husband is working on our house addition causing his compressor to go on every 4 or 5 minutes...but really I barely hear it anymore.

I am enjoying this season in life immensely. Not just the kids and their rapid growing, ever changing ways but the new seasons I see my sisters entering. It was almost twelve years ago my husband and I wedded and my littlest sister, twelve at the time, cried convulsively the entire ceremony. That little girl is now getting ready to say "I do" herself and join the ranks of married women (can anyone recommend a good waterproof mascara?).

My other sister three down who used to give me the "I'm so bored" look if I talked kids too much is now a mom herself and simply lost in the adoration of her little man. I love it. I love the depth and maturity and emotion and perspective that occurs with growth and change. I even love getting a little smirk on when I see her having "mom moments". Maybe I'm not crying over a tiny outfit that no longer fits anymore but I still get the uncontrollable urge to go pick up my sleeping baby after he has been in bed for awhile and cuddle him and get a little smile to tide me over for a bit longer. I can smirk at the emotion my sis displays as a new mom but usually I'm just crying right along with her at how fast my baby is changing.

Really, I'm constantly trying to figure out how to balance it all, husband, kids, schooling, church, housework, cooking, laundry, and so on and so on, while still being present and available to admire a block house or commiserate over a dead beetle. I make lists, I organize, try new things, fall off the wagon, get back on the wagon, just trying to keep all my responsibilities covered.

But in my hustle and bustle, my rushing and running and ....ahem....scolding, it is good to remember that "love never fails". Love brings me back to the moment. It gives me the powerful influence I need as a parent because it "always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres".
I can think of no better way to illustrate the passing of time, and the meaning in that passing, than these two pictures of Watson.

Moms, dads, parents in general have to be present for these fast passing moments to reveal the brilliance and beauty of living and when our efforts fail, as they often will, to point them to the Great Father who holds life and who is love.

 God's love never fails. Our walking in God's love will not fail. Watson's love never fails to remind me that time, oh relentless and remorseless deserter, is precious.

A colorful subject

Tonight I want to talk about a very relevant topic, a topic of imperative pertinence to everyone. Well, perhaps a little less applicability than it should be, but all you parents who have ever said “eat your veggies” to your kids will, I hope, glean a morsel or two of every day practicality from this topic.

 I am here to give five ideas for making daily veggie eating less painful.

 Not so much for our dear children but for ourselves. No parent really wants to sit at the table for an extra forty-five minutes while their child slowly and complainingly nibbles on the veggies that were the subject of your law laying and now the bane of your existence. You just can’t back peddle and still maintain the parental respect they have for you. Or worse, you lay down the law and just can’t make it the forty- five minutes because they are so painfully slow and you have so much to do that at 20 minutes you say “well you did pretty good (all two bites), you can be done”. Then they sooooo have your number.

 Most of us don’t have the internal fortitude to excuse our children from their broccoli and serve the uneaten portion for  breakfast the next morning, however great the impact of that maneuver would be. Sadly, we are products of a very convenience oriented culture and much too frequently succumb to the genius of a four foot person over the opportunity to help them build a discipline. Good parenting is sometimes very laborious.

Don’t get me wrong my kids eat what is set before them, for the most part, but in learning their likes and dislikes, their propensities and reactions, I have developed stratagems that increase my success rate in the “you will eat your vegetables” department.

Because of Mason’s history with intense acid reflux he has some dislikes that are so strongly rooted that he would sooner sit at the table all night than eat some foods. If I notice he is standing in the kitchen gagging repeatedly I know that someone close by is eating a banana. If I want to avoid a messy and highly embarrassing scene I steer him clear of the banana eating public. So no I don’t “make him”, by threat or by pleading, eat that potassium filled fruit but he consumes plenty of them without his knowledge. The smoothies I make for him have banana and he always asks “there are no banana’s in this?” and I always say “it is my secret recipe and I don’t tell my secret recipe.” He can’t eat avocado’s without his gag reflex going out of control but I make a wonderful chocolate pudding with avocado’s, cocoa powder and maple syrup that he absolutely loves. We are highly evolved people here, we should be able to feed our kids healthy without a battle but if you must fight that battle all I can say is, make sure you win it. Once they see your weaknesses you might as well surrender.  Here we go:

1.       Pack a snack pack

How many of you moms after finishing morning routines have loaded your kids up to do errands or whatnot? How long is it, 15, maybe 20 minutes, before you hear these words “I’m hungry mom”. Hungry? We just had breakfast two hours ago. But of course, us self respecting moms rummage in our Mary Poppins bags and Presto!, out comes snacks. WE have cheese puffs or Cliff bars or, for the mom’s who have been around the block, fully packed lunches. Well of course my two year old is going to say he is hungry if he gets a Clif Bar tossed back to him. There are 22 grams of sugar in those bad boys. Great way to wire your kids before bringing them into the grocery store. Parents too often set their poor kids up to fail in public behavior because of what they allow them to consume. So enough said, I started cutting up cucumbers and celery, bagging sugar snap peas and baby carrots to test the true hunger of my brood. Sure enough ten o’clock in the car rolls around and my kids say they are hungry. I pass around the packed veggies letting them know I brought nothing else.

Nothing else you say? What if they don’t eat those veggies, they will be starving! On the contrary, at noon they will eat lunch like normal people. No starving happening here. Amazingly enough by the time we were back home, every bit of veggie was consumed, even to the full bag of baby carrots (I had a couple myself). This astounded me slightly. The need to snack is powerful enough to make kids eat vegetables. This became a habit with me. If the kids are truly in need of food they eat the vegetables and if they are just feeling like a snack without true hunger, they wait till lunch. Veggies will never spoil a child’s appetite for lunch or dinner amazingly enough.

2.       Mix and match

I put cucumbers in my fruit salad. They are such a wonderful crunchy vegetable and perfectly complimentary to fruit. A little organic plain yogurt mixed with it and if you have a shortage of super sweet fruit (which is highly unlikely in the summer time), just drizzle a little maple syrup over the top. When I don’t have the time for a full fruit salad I just mix cucumbers and strawberries, with the cuc’s cut nice and small. Kids like it and it doesn’t feel like they are eating veggies. It is easy to add small chopped veggies to a myriad of foods. Cold Quinoa or couscous with a little dressing for instance bears the weight of veggies admirably.

3.       Do the sneaky parent snack

If you feel peckish pull out some veggies and sit eating them yourself while you are hanging with your kids. Don’t offer them any or encourage them to try something.  Eight times out of ten my kids will snack with me.

4.       Lay down the law

We have at least SOME raw vegetables with every dinner and often lunch as well, however I make the portions doable. I know my kids don’t love bell peppers so I give them one small sliver. Yes they have to eat it but it is not a daunting demand. IF you have not been a law layer in this department before, start with a widely accepted veggie, one that you know your kids will not have too hard a time with and work up to a variety. It is also helpful to have a dessert incentive for finishing the required amount, especially during the training period. I freeze my own popsicles made out of regular organic fruit juice (no added sugar people). A home made pop will probably not give the necessary motivation if your kids are used to more decadent desserts. Just remember, with incentives you can’t cave and give them the desired sweets if they don’t eat the allotted veggies, even if you “feel so bad” that they are missing out. Let’s face it, we would all rather eat ice cream most of the time but our bodies need wholesome food to stay healthy and our kids need us to help them develop positive habits that help promote discipline and moderation in a culture that is anything but disciplined and moderate.

5.       Employ the dip

I buy fresh hummus every week from the farmers market and although I often purchase pita bread as well, we most of the time will sit down to a buffet of hummus and an assortment of vegetables. Different types of hummus and conveniently sized bell peppers, cucumbers, carrots, jicama, celery, cabbage (one of Mason’s favorites). Kids love to dip so get creative. Peanut butter, Blue cheese dressing (my personal favorite), whipped cream cheese, or yogurt perhaps. Don’t worry about a little spillage because the goal is to encourage good habits and good food.

I am not going to lengthen an already lengthy post by talking about the quality of our food, Another time perhaps. Just remember eat as close to nature as possible. Eat organic as much as possible. Kids especially don’t need pesticides and chemicals in their little bodies. The habits we instill now, though often difficult to be consistent in, carry the reward of strong immune systems, simple and pure cravings, ability to choose the beneficial over the easy and much much more.

We love them so we teach them what is good.

 

An evening ramble

I came from the treadmill, where I had a plethora of brilliant blogging ideas floating through my brain as the adrenaline from running provided super oxygenated blood to my inspiration centers. I then sit at my computer and they inconveniently flit right out or condense in a confused jumble right over my left eye, giving me an unnatural twitch. It’s an old complaint. However, one must persevere.

I sometimes wonder at my blogging at all. I read these incredible blogs from incredible people I know and love and the pictures that correspond with the words are just so wonderful. I love the pictures that express the sentiment sometimes even better than the words themselves and I admit, my shoulders slump a bit. I am not a photographer. I want to be….someday. It is an aspiration that is way down my list of aspirations, right around learning to sew and getting a book published. But alas, I am not one as of yet.

Still, I have things I want to say, sometimes things that I just need to say to someone other than my husband, because, let’s face it, he is a good listener but I don’t want to bore him with a process that though relevant to me, is not always interesting to him as ideas are being  formulated. The end result of my mental process is of course scintillating and fascinates him immensely. Laugh laugh (sorry I still can’t bring myself to say lol).

Anywho, so as I blog I am going to put pictures on, but pictures that I’ve taken with no concept of lighting or technic, pictures that are taken with a mediocre camera and often, I am ashamed to say it, with nothing more than a cell phone camera because it is so accessible. Pictures that just help me remember a moment in time, a moment that was beautiful or funny or meaningful. Pictures that remind me why I've made all the choices I've made over the years. Pictures that are a part of a splendid story, a romance, an adventure, a comedy.

If I am going to start anything I am going to jump in with both feet before I even realize what I am doing.

 

Which is why I can’t seem to get that huge picture of my face smaller or why my name when signing up for this blog is still Hoogan instead of Hogan. Sometimes these writings are little more than a journal entry and though I proof read it (ish), usually I hit publish prematurely. I take liberty’s with grammar that probably make my mom cringe; after all, she taught me and in her mind no one knows whether or not I made the mistake on accident or on purpose. I enjoy a good old run on sentence now and again even though I know it isn’t proper. Really, sometimes I am just talking to a friend, without trying to be perfect or say the perfect thing.

I realize this is a ramble and that it is due to the fact that I was hoping the brilliance I had on the treadmill would resurface if I just started to write. Sadly, it did not. The truth is I am a human person trying my best to be good and true and purposeful for God and family and I know that there are other human persons in this great wide world that might say “I get that” as I bump around in a severely imperfect manner on this blog. So for them and for me I write on.

If you labored through all those words, thanks, friend, for listening. Know that I have got some awesome  little bits to share as I get my head back in the game.

Just remember, life is grand. Live it well.

 

 

 

Me and Donna Reed

 

I have often watched shows over the years, that depict the lovely and calm wife and mother in her pumps welcoming her husband home, the house tidy, the kids clean and quiet, the dinner offering its enticing aroma from the kitchen. These shows I naturally laughed at as being completely unrealistic and exactly what they are: fiction.

 

Well, today the stars aligned to create just such an illusion as my husband walked through the front door. The baby was in bed for the night, the kids were quietly reading in their beds, awaiting, with good behavior, the arrival of their dad and his good night kisses. I had hurriedly vacuumed the floor, picked up the living area and had time to load all the days dishes into the dishwasher. The counters were clean and I was calmly stirring an aromatic dinner as I greeted my husband with a smile.

 Why didn’t I run to the bedroom and put on some high heels? I guess my husband would have thought I had finally gone off the rails if I had taken it to that far-fetched degree. He knows high heels and I are not best friends, maybe just friends or acquaintances really but definitely not kindred spirits.

So my husband arrives to a calm and peaceful home, with a smiling wife and freshly bathed kids in their adorable little matching Woody pajama’s. He goes in to tuck the kids in and I marvel at the unrealistic feel of the moment. What the heck happened that created this idealistic occurrence in my typically loud and crazy domestic life. I pondered. I reflected. I questioned.

Finally I decided that these moments happen throughout the day. It just isn’t frequent that my husband comes home at just the perfect time to receive the benefit of said moment. Then I realized something else, the calm was in my soul, I didn’t need to dramatize the affect that the constant barrage of needs and crisis had taken on my psyche. I didn’t need sympathy.

Wow! Am I really that needy that I lean into the days intensity when my husband gets home so he can give my some much desired encouragement and, yes, validation? I hope not too often. Chris and I have our moments of playing “who had the hardest day” under the surface of telling each other about our day. Wouldn’t my husband be much more impressed if I was always this put together? Perhaps.

Life as a stay at home mom is an adventure, to say the least. I don’t do what I do for a paycheck. I do what I do for a family. Yes it feels nice to hear “you’re doing a good job” and yes, I wish I heard it more but not at the expense of our sweet comfy home feel. I think I will try and act “put together” a little more often. No one has to know I didn’t brush my hair today or that my make-up was applied while sitting at traffic lights and singing “It’s a small world after all”.

There’s nothing wrong with acknowledging the beauty in the ideals, in the Donna Reed myth so to speak. And really, apart from the dress and the hair and the heels, it’s the smile and the arms that matter. The kisses and the energy that say “home is wonderful”.

It is important to embrace the moments where the house and the kids and the dinner are a little topsy turvy and then the counter part moments where everything  looks just picture perfect (though those moments may be fleeting),

Because really….family life isn’t without fault or difficulty, but it is perfect.

 

 

Along came Watson

I remember vividly the days that followed the birth of my first baby. I was so awed and inspired, I took the time to journal pages of what I felt and thought, what my husband said, what I said, what the doctors said. I tried to articulate the pain and the triumph in words and more words…till I found that those words were just not enough. The fact that words were colorless compared to the real experience did not hinder me from continuing to write, to document the event that changed my life forever.

 I had a very serious concern when I got pregnant with my second that my heart didn’t have the capacity to love another child like I loved my little daughter. Well that concern was useless. I found what mothers always find: the hearts capacity increases. Then came my third and my insides were ready to burst with adoration.

While pregnant with my fourth I got up to use the restroom in the middle of the night, like usual, and saw the most enchanting moon full and brilliant over the peaceful night. The poets heart within wanted to find my notebook and sit under that landscape until its palpable inspiration overwhelmed me and I could write and write beautifully. My tired mommy body wanted to get back in bed and try and get another two hours before the pitter patter of a two year olds feet was followed by that two year old climbing in to bed and putting an end to all repose. The impulses that made up who I once was sometimes strain for recognition in the instincts and urges that make up the fullness of who I am now. Of course I got back in bed.

Then along came Watson. I never sat down to spell out the moments leading up to and just after his birth, and I certainly am not going to here, but when they laid him on my chest, my heart grew to a painful degree. The little child is a miracle.

 

 

I read a quote that said “life began with waking up and loving my mothers face.” I am witness to this. Little Watson’s love is tangible, his eyes express it with such innocent eloquence and I can’t tear my own away.  God bless my baby angel.

I thought nothing was as hard as having three kids and being pregnant but having four has been quite the adjustment. Better, yes, but having unchartered challenges of its own. Ten weeks have passed and I'm really starting to figure out how to be mom to four.  

Crazy, chaotic and loud; I am often overwhelmed, sometimes frantic, mostly hurried, but  it is really, really amazing.

 

39 weeks and 6 days

It strikes me as I sit here in contemplation that I may be jumping out of the frying pan into the fire, as the saying goes. Yet…the inevitable is upon me and I speed its coming with all the anticipation that I can muster. Tomorrow is D-day. I will be 40 weeks pregnant, looking “huge” as friends and strangers alike are pleased to point out.

Though four children seems daunting in theory, what is more formidable is three kids and being pregnant, nay, very pregnant,  it is a final and undeniable fact. They out number me, they are faster than I and somehow over the past months have gradually taken advantage of my increasing slowness and fatigue to where I have suddenly woken to the realization that they have my number and are beginning to call my bluff on a daily basis.

This is where I am. I have missed sitting down to my computer on any given night and ranting or philosophizing over the humor, inconsistencies and general pleasure  of home grown life. I have missed playing the violin. Some things just had to go on the back burner for a little while.

I have not given up this blogging endeavor (contrary to public opinion) that has satisfied a very deep need to write and to pontificate without interruption  and look forward to many satisfying outbursts …. However, this pregnancy has thrown down the gauntlet on my super hero qualifications and called into question all the superfluity of my assertions in this department. I have had to get down to basics and live them one day at a time. Day after day has passed and I find myself nearing the end of this season and wishing I had enjoyed the journey just a little more.

….Enjoyed the endless moments where Mason wanted to touch and listen to my belly.

….Enjoyed the countless hours we spent reading on the couch, trying to protect my tummy from bony elbows and knees and trying to help Drake feel like he is sitting on my lap when really there is no lap to sit on anymore.

….Enjoyed the loud romping that occurs when the kids greet their dad at the end of a work day.

 Why is it hard to enjoy the times when life is irregular or just plain difficult when from experience I think we can all agree that some of the most beautiful moments come out of those times and we look back with gratitude and wonderment at what we’ve learned and who we have become.

I have never been more painfully aware that I am not supermom and I remind myself once again that I titled this blog “Admissions of a superhero” not because I am so amazing but because on a daily basis I have the opportunity to be amazing to some little person who has a moment of need. They don’t see all the things I do imperfectly or the housework left undone, but they feel my arms when they are sad and my huge smile every time they succeed. That’s what I love about being a stay at home mom. I get to be there during the random everyday moments to give a thumbs up or sing Jingle Bells loudly in March because my two year old loves it so much. I get to be the one with the dish towel tucked in the back of my shirt because Mason and I are superhero’s.

So, maybe I am acutely aware that the 100 lunges a day and two miles on the treadmill these past months have been insufficient to preserve the curves of my gluteus and maybe my dad thought it was funny to recommend I get a walker. At this moment, it can’t last forever.

 

 

 

 

Four kids.

 Bring it on!