I'm coming off a deadline at work. Yeah for transitions!
I did a service project with some women from my church. We made 6 DOZEN dresses for children in Haiti. It was an awesome experience.
I'm doing this whole get healthy thing. It's working out well.
My girls got sick. Real sick by our standards. They managed to do it at the same time which was very courteous of them. Recovery is happening and I look forward to achieving our normal by the end of the week.
Last week I finished up a seminar on dealing with clutter in a kinder and more soulful way. I've got a lot of food for thought and, I think, some coping mechanisms.
Inspiration struck and I've begun researching how to make a quilt for Inchie and imagining what it might look like. As my second born she gets so few of my firsts. I want this one to be just for her.
And I want to write about all of it, but I haven't. Life is wonderful and complicated and full to the brim these days. I oscillate between reacting and interacting. I need to interact a little more. I enjoy the moments I spend hands-on doing projects and shaping my day. Maybe that is why I've gotten so much more engaged with my sewing. I've also been planning my days a bit more before they happen. No plan is 100%, but I like operating with a plan better than in one's absence.
This morning when I sat and read a mom's post about transitioning from working to staying at home with her kids, I paused. Would I want to stay at home? Yes. I could do so much if nine hours of each day did not belong to the company for which I work. Sewing. Crafting. Reading. Volunteer Work. Writing. I would never be idle. Would I want to care for my children full-time? Hrm. I love my girls. But I'm not sure I want to be home with them everyday. Someday I hope I can form a different relationship with my work and my time. But I'm happy with my relationship with my kids and the balance we've achieved there.
Do you take time on busy days to day dream about other ways?
Monday, June 18, 2012
Friday, May 11, 2012
I am Mom Enough
My three year old doesn't like to go to bed. I've had an exceptionally hard time dealing with this. I work hard to keep our lives running smoothly. Having a little strong-headed Bean making a wreak out of my schedule on a daily... sometimes hourly... basis... *sigh* I don't always handle it well. It's humbling and frustrating and embarrassing.
It all started when Bean was about to turn two. I was 8 months pregnant with Inchie and needed to clear out the Nursery. Ray and I made a beautiful room for our little girl. She got new paint and original artwork. Her great granddad's bed was reconditioned. I even found my old Mickey Mouse lamp to watch over her at night. Anything to make up for all the change we were heaping on her life.
The first night in her new room, she climbed on her mattress and slept peacefully. She was proud to be sleeping in her big girl bed. She loved the new special space we'd made for her. We'd succeeded.
That night marked the last peaceful night sleep she got for months. At first I thought it was a phase. I could wait it out. But as the nights passed I grew weary. Putting a 30 pound child back in bed 30 times a night was wearing on my already over-extended (literally) body. I began to search for answers. I read books. I sat with my husband in the dark devising strategies. I emailed friends begging to know how they did it. I called my mom. I prayed. I began to doubt every choice I'd ever made as a mother. Few solutions were offered and those that were sounded like criticisms.
Four weeks went by like this. Inchie was days away from being welcomed into the work. I was exhausted. I second guessed every action I took. I criticized my husband's actions. My world was coming apart at the seams. Something had to change. With tears in my eyes and a heavy heart, I gave up. We borrowed a second crib to set up in Bean's new room. I had to do what was best for me and my family. In one month, we had gone from happy-loving-laughing to sullen-sniping-yelling. I felt as thought I failed my little girl. I'd told her the wonders of being a big girl and then I'd demoted her to a cage when I couldn't handle it.
The crib stayed in her room for four months. They were not peaceful months. Bean still fought bed time and fought the cage we called a crib. The damage had been done. That crib bought us enough time to welcome Inchie into the world and get her sleeping through the night. I settled back into work. Life began to resemble something I could handle. Then Bean climbed out of the crib. It had outlived its usefulness.
Nothing helped me deal with this reality. No book or piece of advice or blog post or restraint system showed me the magical formula to get my girl to sleep at night. To this day I don't know how we manage it. But we do manage it. More often than not she sleeps. Quite often we don't. But over the past year and a half I have gained something.
There is a peace inside me I didn't have when this all started. An assurance that I will grow and stretch myself to any length to raise these girls. I will take risks and make awful decisions along the road all in hopes of raising these girls in a safe, loving, healthy environment. I will reevaluate and modify my beliefs if necessary. I will not give up on them. I must not give up on me. There exists no woman in any world who loves my girls to the extent that I do. I am the first and best mother they will ever have. I am Mom Enough.
***
This post was inspired by the reactions I've read to the cover of this week's TIME magazine. A mother stands on the cover breastfeeding her 3 year old son in a non-conventional pose. The title is "Are you Mom enough?" My reaction, like so many others, to those 4 words is visceral. There are as many ways to parent as there are children being parented. I share my story to illustrate one daily struggle which defines me as a mother. With experience, I am Mom Enough to answer that question without doubt. However, there are moms out there whose hearts and minds are filled with doubt. This Mother's Day we need to appreciate them for all that they do. And support them however they choose to accomplish it.
The first night in her new room, she climbed on her mattress and slept peacefully. She was proud to be sleeping in her big girl bed. She loved the new special space we'd made for her. We'd succeeded.
That night marked the last peaceful night sleep she got for months. At first I thought it was a phase. I could wait it out. But as the nights passed I grew weary. Putting a 30 pound child back in bed 30 times a night was wearing on my already over-extended (literally) body. I began to search for answers. I read books. I sat with my husband in the dark devising strategies. I emailed friends begging to know how they did it. I called my mom. I prayed. I began to doubt every choice I'd ever made as a mother. Few solutions were offered and those that were sounded like criticisms.
Four weeks went by like this. Inchie was days away from being welcomed into the work. I was exhausted. I second guessed every action I took. I criticized my husband's actions. My world was coming apart at the seams. Something had to change. With tears in my eyes and a heavy heart, I gave up. We borrowed a second crib to set up in Bean's new room. I had to do what was best for me and my family. In one month, we had gone from happy-loving-laughing to sullen-sniping-yelling. I felt as thought I failed my little girl. I'd told her the wonders of being a big girl and then I'd demoted her to a cage when I couldn't handle it.
The crib stayed in her room for four months. They were not peaceful months. Bean still fought bed time and fought the cage we called a crib. The damage had been done. That crib bought us enough time to welcome Inchie into the world and get her sleeping through the night. I settled back into work. Life began to resemble something I could handle. Then Bean climbed out of the crib. It had outlived its usefulness.Nothing helped me deal with this reality. No book or piece of advice or blog post or restraint system showed me the magical formula to get my girl to sleep at night. To this day I don't know how we manage it. But we do manage it. More often than not she sleeps. Quite often we don't. But over the past year and a half I have gained something.
There is a peace inside me I didn't have when this all started. An assurance that I will grow and stretch myself to any length to raise these girls. I will take risks and make awful decisions along the road all in hopes of raising these girls in a safe, loving, healthy environment. I will reevaluate and modify my beliefs if necessary. I will not give up on them. I must not give up on me. There exists no woman in any world who loves my girls to the extent that I do. I am the first and best mother they will ever have. I am Mom Enough.
***
This post was inspired by the reactions I've read to the cover of this week's TIME magazine. A mother stands on the cover breastfeeding her 3 year old son in a non-conventional pose. The title is "Are you Mom enough?" My reaction, like so many others, to those 4 words is visceral. There are as many ways to parent as there are children being parented. I share my story to illustrate one daily struggle which defines me as a mother. With experience, I am Mom Enough to answer that question without doubt. However, there are moms out there whose hearts and minds are filled with doubt. This Mother's Day we need to appreciate them for all that they do. And support them however they choose to accomplish it.
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
Friday, May 4, 2012
My little Eye Opener
Me: "Here's your allowance." Hands 4 quarters to my three year old.
Bean: "Mommy, I want to give this quarter to the children in Haiti."
Me: "What, honey?"
Bean: "I want to give money to the children in Haiti who don't have mommies and daddies."
When she turned 3, Bean started attending Sunday school. At that time we started giving her an allowance. She has two banks on her dresser, one for spending and one for saving. Then she has an envelope in which to put her Sunday school offering. We told her that she needs to put one quarter in each bank: Saving, Spending and Giving. She can choose where she would like the 4th quarter to go. Usually she puts it in her Sunday school envelope.
This Sunday, she gave it to the Haitian children she's heard us talk about.
I am humbled by the awesome heart in my little girl. She hears the things we talk about and works out a way to help. The quarter may not make a dent in the need, but her giving spirit is inspiring. To be so open to help, and to give whatever she has to give, prompts me to find ways to give more. I'm touched by her actions and pray that she holds onto that loving nature as long as she can. I hope I can help her learn to protect it without stomping it out. I pray that I can be more open and giving of myself.
Many years from now I hope to have retained this memory. I hope to share it with her and let her know the effect she had on me. I hope to teach her that we effect the world around us in good and bad ways. If we work hard and are true to our hearts, the good ways will grow and multiply. The world will be a better place simply because we gave our best to make it better.
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
A Healthy Dose of Sunshine
Today was perfect.
Normally perfect is a word I avoid. There's too much pressure there, but today... Today really was perfect. I want to remember today.
Day Care was closed today. As my husband covered Good Friday, I got approval to be home today. I can't say I was happy about it. I don't always (some might say often) handle schedule disruptions with grace. This was no exception. But stay home I did.
This morning I woke up with the girls. We wished Ray a happy work day and then set off to figure out our own plans. Breakfast. T-ball in the back yard. Clean up the swing set. Run a few errands. Lunch at Chick-fil-A. Visit the library. Run just one more errand. Go to the park. Nothing spectacular happened. We went from thing to thing. There was bickering and coercing. I even drew attention at the library when I yelped after Inchie BIT me. Apparently, they don't hear grown women yelp all that often.
The funny thing about nothing spectacular happening? We had a genuinely great day. It snuck up on me. I was sitting in the park eating snack with the girls. The sun was warm on my neck, but I'd even remembered to bring and apply the sun screen. Milk was being consumed through chocolate straws. On this beautiful day, we sat together on a park bench without another soul around.
While this was my favorite moment, it took the whole day for me to appreciate it. Time with the girls, doing things they love to do, together. For about 45 minutes, I was completely at peace.
Normally perfect is a word I avoid. There's too much pressure there, but today... Today really was perfect. I want to remember today.
Day Care was closed today. As my husband covered Good Friday, I got approval to be home today. I can't say I was happy about it. I don't always (some might say often) handle schedule disruptions with grace. This was no exception. But stay home I did.
This morning I woke up with the girls. We wished Ray a happy work day and then set off to figure out our own plans. Breakfast. T-ball in the back yard. Clean up the swing set. Run a few errands. Lunch at Chick-fil-A. Visit the library. Run just one more errand. Go to the park. Nothing spectacular happened. We went from thing to thing. There was bickering and coercing. I even drew attention at the library when I yelped after Inchie BIT me. Apparently, they don't hear grown women yelp all that often.
The funny thing about nothing spectacular happening? We had a genuinely great day. It snuck up on me. I was sitting in the park eating snack with the girls. The sun was warm on my neck, but I'd even remembered to bring and apply the sun screen. Milk was being consumed through chocolate straws. On this beautiful day, we sat together on a park bench without another soul around.
While this was my favorite moment, it took the whole day for me to appreciate it. Time with the girls, doing things they love to do, together. For about 45 minutes, I was completely at peace.
Monday, March 12, 2012
Bedtime Experiment
My kids are hilarious. To me. Our lives might be a bit more orderly if I didn't find them quite so funny. It's very hard to discipline a child when you can't stop laughing over the way that they just deviated from your instruction. One such moment happened last night. Warning - this has to do with bodily functions.
Bean still wears pullups to bed. She's only 3 so this isn't a big deal. What is a big deal is that she is keeping the pullups dry each night. I've promised her that when she stays dry for 7 nights in a row, she can go to bed in panties. Woohoo milestone! Double Woohoo no more buying $40 boxes of pullups!
Anyway, last night I put a waterproof sheet on Bean's bed, telling her it was in case she had an accident when she starts sleeping without her pullup. She doesn't question this or even get excited. I don't think again about it. Until five minutes after she's tucked in.
Bean: "Mommy, that new sheet you put on my bed doesn't work."
Me: "What do you mean it doesn't work?" as I head into her room thinking the sheet had gotten loose and was folded and uncomfortable or something.
Bean: "It doesn't dry up pee pee."
Me: "Did you pee in your pullup?"
Bean: "I had an accident. The sheet didn't dry it up."
Me: Shakes head in exasperation and wonders at my child's use of the scientific method.
Bean still wears pullups to bed. She's only 3 so this isn't a big deal. What is a big deal is that she is keeping the pullups dry each night. I've promised her that when she stays dry for 7 nights in a row, she can go to bed in panties. Woohoo milestone! Double Woohoo no more buying $40 boxes of pullups!
Anyway, last night I put a waterproof sheet on Bean's bed, telling her it was in case she had an accident when she starts sleeping without her pullup. She doesn't question this or even get excited. I don't think again about it. Until five minutes after she's tucked in.
Bean: "Mommy, that new sheet you put on my bed doesn't work."
Me: "What do you mean it doesn't work?" as I head into her room thinking the sheet had gotten loose and was folded and uncomfortable or something.
Bean: "It doesn't dry up pee pee."
Me: "Did you pee in your pullup?"
Bean: "I had an accident. The sheet didn't dry it up."
Me: Shakes head in exasperation and wonders at my child's use of the scientific method.
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