Reading come to life...

Thanks to the suggestion of a close friend, we have been reading the series "The Boxcar children" before bed every night.  One might think that a series from the 1940's would be outdated and "boring" for our society full of little geniuses.  What could kids kids from the 40s possibly have in common with today's kids.  The answer, we sadly found out, is not much.  The interesting thing, which didn't surprise me much, is that my kids are enthralled by the stories.  The children are independent, resourceful, respectful and act years older than children today.  What they are lacking in technology and convenience they easily make up for with ingenuity and resourcefulness.

I know that it is impossible to change the times, and that our kids are growing up in the world that they are given. There is a certain necessity to be able to function in society and a lot of things that I wish away will one day be at their fingertips.  What I do constantly wish for amidst the chaos and busyness of each day is just a little simplicity.  Well, this weekend, with the help of some old stories and good weather, we found it.  We stopped at the beach on the way home from a little trip and decided to just "be" on the water.  We brought along some toys for the kids hoping for at least 30 minutes of peace.  We got almost 3 hours.  Before we knew it, there were structures built out of Hurricane Irene debris and I could hear talk of "shelters" and "food gardens" that were all too familiar parts of "The Boxcar" books.  I heard my son telling my daughter to put all of the sand toys away because they hadn't been invented yet. They would dig with sticks because they "work just as good!"

They planted gardens with shells as seeds that grew into wheat (dried sea grass).  My son attempted to dam the ocean to make a "swimming Hole".  All the while they were treating each other as the orphans in the story.  They needed each other if they were to be successful.  They embraced each others ideas and gave suggestions. 

They took me for a walk down the beach to look for anything they could use as the children from the book did when they needed things.  Since mine were not orphans I was not about to let them go so far to be out of sight, but I did keep my distance....  There we were, content on the beach.  Toys were not necessary, my phone was in the car and we all survived.  I have a feeling that this day is one that they will remember for some time.  I know I sure will.  I did of course have to go retrieve my camera from the car to catch a few shots of our adventure :)

What a difference a year makes!!!

Sometimes it's fun to look back at a similar event and compare...  Last year, Emily made a poster for the church picnic poster contest and won.  This year Emily made a poster for the church poster contest and won...  Same contest, same result, very different girl :)

Last year...  showing off her loot she bought with her gift card prize (including something for her brother...)

This year...  showing off her loot she bought with her gift card prize ( including something for her bother )

What a HUGE change...  Love my little artist :) 

It's not about me...

The conversation goes somewhat like this:
"How old are your kids?"

"5 & 7"

"Oooooh, so he's 5? That means your baby is starting kindergarten..."

"Yup!!!"

"How are you going to handle that? Aren't you going to be sad? What are you going to do?"

I'm sure to many this is a farmiliar conversation. At this point in the conversationI never really know what to do. I used to just answer with my honest thoughts, but from experience I don't anymore. When I was honest one of a few things happened. I got looks of confusion, disbeleif, or disgust. So either I am totally foreign in my thoughts, lying, or just an awful mother.

As I ponder these choices I am left to wonder if I am alone in my thinking, or if other moms, just like me, avoid speaking our truth in order to fit in. So for what it's worth, here is my truth...

"How am I going to handle my baby going to Kindergarten?" I am going to be happy about it! Not because I will have days to myself, or more time. Not because I won't have to constantly be playing legos or building play doh castles. Not because I might actually be able to keep my house neat for more than 3 consecutive hours... Based on some of the reactions I have gotten, I feel that some think I am being selfish when I am happy about my baby being gone all day. I must want more time for myself... How could I possibly want him gone?

This is the point where I wish people would just ask.. "how could you be happy??"

My answer would simply be: "It's not about me...." I think people assume that I won't miss him. Of course I will miss him. I will miss the random leg hugs I would get while doing the dishes. I will miss snuggling on the couch on rainy days watching movies. I will miss his still baby voice talking to himself in his room while playing with his pirate ships he loves so much. I will miss all of him every moment (well almost every moment). Because of circumstances that cannot be avoided, I have been forced to learn that missing someone and being sad do not have to coincide. How, even though I will miss him dearly, can I be happy?


I can be happy because I know what is in store for him. I know that he will spend hours talking with and playing with other children. I know he will have an amazing teacher this year that will push him and love him. I know that he will become more confident in his very able self that he has put aside to let mom be mom. I know that he will finally "get it" that letters put together make words and that if he knows how they sound he will read. He has been so excited about learning how to read. I know that he will have a chance to try things and make mistakes instead of having mom try so hard to fix things before mistakes happen. I know that each day without me he will become more "him" and less "mine."


This may be the point I so frequently fail to make clear when I try to fumble a response to what sounds like: "wow, you aren't sad? What kind of mother are you?" What I wish so honestly to be able to explain, while feeling like I should be sad for some reason, is that he is not "mine."


From the moment that little plus sign appeared to the ultrsound that showed us all his "boyness," I knew that he wasn't mine. He was, is, and always will be a gift to me. He is not mine to do with as I wish, but a gift from God. I have been entrusted, as a mother, to try my best and fail miserably sometimes, to guide him to be the man that not I, but God would be proud of.


Guiding him includes holding him as a baby with unconditional love, playing endlessly for years, reading stories, and slowly letting go. School is just one small step in that process. Will I be sad? Probably. Will I see him walk in and want to grab him one last time? Of course. But I will be happy about all of it because I know he is growing up and it is all part of being a mother. I don't want to hold him back. I don't want to keep him for myself. He is too good for that. Even at 5, I know he is something special (I'm sure all moms say that). But he is. He is going to be great I just know it, and why would I want to keep that for myself when he has the potential to touch so many others on his way?


So what am I going to do with my baby in Kindergarten? I 'm going to be happy. And no I'm not delusional, or selfish or neglectful. I am hopeful, proud and confident that he is at the beginning of what will be a long and bumpy ride to becoming an amazing man.

Patience

For some strange reason, I chose this year to have a resolution and stick to it.  Unlike every other year, it is not weight loss.  I figured I might want to succeed for once I guess.  This year it is patience.  Since the day I decided that this was my goal I have been put to the test.  It seems that every day holds some new gem for me to be patient about.  Today it was socks.  Oh the socks.  One pair is too thick, the other to thin.  One has a seem that rubs her toe wrong, another bothers her ankle.  Before this whole resolution debauchle I would have just yelled.  Usually does the trick.  The sock goes into the shoe and a frightened little girl gets in the car to go to school.  The whole sock issue is probably what got me into this mess in the first place.  Never in a million years would I think that a simple sock would push me as far as it does.  

It happened one morning when we were running late.  There she was sitting on the stairs furiously yanking at her sock and I let her have it.  I am not proud to admit it.  We were going to get in the car and be on time for once (we are actually rarely late...) and that sock wasn't going to stop us.    Michael, knowing what was coming, put his coat on and made a b-line for the car.  (This of course is a whole other issue.. the fact that he knew it was coming)  After I berated the small child sitting on the steps she just sat there, defeated.  When she failed to move or even make a move towards leaving the house I started in on her again.  "Mom, if you would just stop yelling at me I will put the stupid sock on and we can go...."  Like a sledgehammer to the back of my head it hit me.  LOVE IS PATIENT.....

I am pretty sure that most who know me know that my love for my children is strong.  There is not 5 minutes that go by in my house in which a child is not being hugged, kissed or told I love you.  If one of them is withing reach I am holding them.  It is easy to show love with a hug or a word, and I am good at it.  What I fear I have failed to do is love as He has commanded us to.  LOVE IS PATIENT....

On this quest for patience, in which I am doing better than expected so far, I have spent alot of time questioning what patience actually is.  According to Wikipedia, patience is the state of endurance under difficult circumstances, which can mean persevering in the face of delay or provocation without acting on annoyance/anger in a negative way; or exhibiting forbearance when under strain, especially when faced with longer-term difficulties. Patience is the level of endurance one's character can take before negativity. It is also used to refer to the character trait of being steadfast.

What does patience look like?  I dont' know what it looks like for everyone else, but for me patience is...

• counting to ten after I ask something of a child and waiting to see if they respond before getting frustrated and asking again assuming they were just ignoring me on purpose.  9 out of ten times they respond by the time I get to 8....
• giving a sobbing boy a hug instead of yelling at him to pick up the mess that his isn't picking up fast enough and then sending him back on his way to finish the job.  Hug again as necessary until the job is done.
• Being grateful that I have a husband that is willing to work so hard and be away so long so that I can be home with my children and not get frustrated about when he will return.
• Reading an extra book at night because it took five years for him to even want to look at a book in the first place instead of telling him its too late and going downstairs to watch TV.
• Knowing that if I hold out one more day, the pain wont be so bad and I won't need the pain killers that are calling me from the medicine cabinet.
• Understanding that just because a bathroom is pink and black doesn't mean me have to spend money right now to fix it (this has gotten easier since my loving husband has agreed its about time)
• Spending 3 hours constructing a leprechaun trap that I know will never catch a leprechaun because her friend makes one and thats what you do on St. Patricks Day.  This includes shopping for some sort of irish trinket that somehow gets stuck in the trap as the leprechaun somehow escaped and explaining that although we didn't catch him this year there is always next year...
• Driving to 4 stores at the end of winter to find slippers that "feel okay" with socks because Miss Brandl says we have to wear socks (see above).  Do you know that by march there are no slippers??? And when you do finally find the one pair of pink fuzzy way too big slippers that are "PERFECT MOMMY!"  They are damaged.  Patience is buying the slippers anyway and then fixing the brand new perfect fuzzy slippers so that she can wear them on pajama day.
• Saying yes even when I don't feel like it. (this is in response to my son asking me if he could paint at 5:30 in the morning)

There are so many more..  So far I have been more patient with my kids.  I have put a moratorium on yelling and my house is a much happier place all around.  I have been more patient with my husband (although to be honest its not so hard.  Almost everything he does makes my life easier).  My family outside of my house is next.  It's a little easier to avoid at this point (although I'm pretty sure my mom wishes I could work on this now) :) And then there is myself.  I am most impatient with myself.  

Fortunatly for me, God is Love...  and Love is Patient...     

Family

Family is a funny thing.  I think most would agree.  Everyone has one (willing or not) and everyone's is different.  Why is it that it is so easy to point out and remember all of the negative things from our families?  As I have been on this rollercoaster that is motherhood there are times that I forget about my family.  I forget about how hard it was for my mom when we were little, or about how devoted my dad was.  I forget about the all night atari sessions with my brother and the sound of my moms voice as we were sledding by the house at 2 in the morning...  I forget about the weekend at Western with my sister in law when she got carded for the rated R movie and I didn't.  I forget about the tears I shed when I saw my amazing neice for the first time in the airport, and the other right after she was born.  I forget about the sacrifice my mother in law makes babysitting so often for us.  I forget that my little spunky neice Sadie always gives the best hugs and Tyler the best high fives and how very blue Aurora's eyes are.   Too often I forget about my cousins that live so far away and how much fun we had when they didn't.  I forget how much time my aunt Cindy spent with us when we were little.  All the trips she took us on, nights she had us stay over.  I forget that not only are they my family but I am theirs..  Here's to trying not to get so wrapped up in myself and to remembering that family has always been there and always will.  To trying to forget the things about family that can get in the way and trying to remember underneath it all we are in this together.

Can she really be Seven????

Sometimes it is so hard to believe she is Seven.  At other times I feel like shes 16...  Either way, I have been blessed with every day I have been able to spend with her.  She is smart, she if funny, she is intense... but best of all, she is full of love.  For me, for Dad, for her brother (that took a while), and for God.  Some days she is easy, some days she is difficult, but every day is a gift.

A cake I made and brought to school for her to share with friends.  Not planned, but she had a rough morning with a friend, and rough mornings are not allowed on birthdays!  I definitely smoothed things over :)

It has become a fun tradition to make the kids cakes...  This year it was vanilla ice cream with Oreo filling and whipped cream frosting.  It was so yummy!

To this day I remember on my 18th birthday my Dad gave me flowers.  Apparently he had gone out to get me jewelry and just couldn't do it.  I was still his little girl.  Se he came home with flowers instead.  Best birthday gift I have ever received.  I make sure to get them for Em every year more for me to remember my dad more than anything else, but I can tell she loves them :)

Cupcakes..  because "not everyone likes ice cream mom..."

Dad had to leave before her party and drew her an airplane.  A friend thought Michael did it :)  ha ha.  Em was so happy that Daddy left her something.  She colored it in and had to "design her spot."  Notice the flowers she drew?  I am forever going to miss the phonetic spelling of first grade.  Her party was "owsum, supr & grat!"  It was a great day for Emily...                                                  

Birthdays past :

Six Years Old

5 Years Old

 

A week before her 4th birthday, we spent a week in the hospital with Pneumonia...  She was such a trooper.  She was so fragile as a little kid.  The first 3 months were terrifying with constant x-rays, throwing up, and inability to breathe.  Heart surgery, years of respiratory issues...  Most of the time I forget how fragile life is.  Seeing these pictures of her in her huge hospital bed remind me of how special she is.  She might not have made it past 6 months if she were born 50 yrs ago.  she would have died in her sleep and be labeled a "SIDS" baby.  We are blessed with her, there is no doubt.

A few days after coming home from the hospital.  4th birthday!

Cayman Christmas part 2

 Dave hard at work :)

 Dad and Michael on one of their many walking adventures...

 Reading Santa's response to her letter.  She was not happy that he didn't tell her how he uses his magic or how reindeer fly....  He said that some secrets just can't be reavealed.  She says that next year she will ask in person so he has to answer..  Hahaha!

 There is a good feeling as a mother when your child opens a package of waxy string from grandma and gets this excited :)

                                                        Thanks Grandma!!!

 Em checking out all of the sea glass she found

 "Michael just smile for once" 

My handsome little man... :)

Cayman Christmas part one...

Alot of little boys get to at some point in their lives sit in the cockpit of an airplane, but how many get to be Daddy's co-pilot midflight???  This right here is one happy, and very lucky little boy.  He eventually had to give the seat back to the actual co pilot..  reluctantly...  and then sat in between their seats for the rest of the flight :)

Em, you want to give it a try???  Nope, I'm good right here playing hangman with Mommy...  wouldn't want to be near all of those buttons and bump the wrong one (her words)

Finally at the condo...  nothing like Disney shows you shouldn't be watching, fold out beds and bananas at 11:00 pm.  Let vacation begin!

This is what I woke up to the first morning :)

6 am sandcastles :)  Pure joy for my little man..

Em held out a little longer.  At least the sun was up when she came out :)  Nothing like the beach in your PJ's

Michael basically played with sand for the whole vacation..  He loves to dig!

The Dolphin Pool.  Beldive it or not, the water was pretty chilly.  We didnt swim as much as I thought we would.  They were so happy to just be goofing off in the water.

Oh Christmas Tree... Indian Hill Tree Farm

I dont' know how we found this tree farm tucked behind a mental hospital on a hill, but every tree is perfect.  All of them.  I'm pretty sure I went once with Dave and my Dad which is why I think this place makes me so happy.  My Dad loved Dave and the feeling was mutual so those memories are precious to both of us. 

 I'm pretty sure I was asking Dave what kind of man sits at the tractor and talks to the driver while his wife cuts down the tree at this point :)  The "tractor guy" is the same guy every year and he always asks Dave about flying.  Every year they agree that they will go flying..  it has yet to happen but no one seems to mind. 

I told them to pose next to the tree...  ummmm...  wow...  :)

Although a blurry picture (oops..  it was a bumpy ride) I always love seeing the joy on Michaels face when he gets to go for the tractor ride.  I really do love this place...

Giving Thanks

Last year we went out for Thanksgiving with Dave's mom.  We decided that we enjoyed it so much that it might just become a tradition...  This year we brought along Grandma and Aunt Cindy too.  The food was great and Thanksgiving was stress-free!!!

 The Kids were so cute wanting to take a picture with everyone at the table (except for me of course :) )

Emily and her Grammy

The famous Aunt Cindy!  She is somewhat of a celebrity as she was for my brother and I growing up.  I'm so glad my kids get to enjoy her as we did.  She always has some funny face, funny noise, or not so funny joke.  We love Aunt Cindy..

 I like Thanksgiving.  It is so nice to have a day to just focus on what is important and only that.  To thank God for where we were, where we are, and where we are going.

This has also become a tradition.  The Christmas card shot on the anchor.  This was right before Michael crushed his fingers while swinging from that big hook in the background. Good times :)

 Me and my Big girl who acted like and angel, said Grace for us and continues to surprise me...