Highlights....

 One of these days, I am going to get a picture of this child where he is smiling with his eyes open.  Until then, I refuse to stop taking or arguing about pictures.  It is what it is :) I was so proud of these on their first morning at their new school.  Both were up early and excited.  Both were excited to pick out clothes (although Michael is wearing his "uniform shorts" in this picture).  They were brave, more so than I ever expected.

 Then we got to school.  Emily was still excited, and Dad walked her to find her classroom while I took care of the not so excited brother.  The school is twice the size.  There more than double the number of students.  I didn't have the heart to ask him how he felt, but I knew.  I settled him in at his desk and said goodbye..  and he sat, staring into space, very unsure as to what would happen next.  As I got to Em's classroom to say goodbye, I was so thrilled to see Audrey.  Audrey is a girl that was on Emily's baseball team this past spring.  It never occurred to me, because the team actually plays in another town, that Audrey was from town.  All of the worry and anxiety drained out of Emily's face instantly.  She was so happy to see a familiar face and could now relax.  Any mom knows the feeling of relief I had in that moment.  She was okay....

 I wish I could say the same for Michael.  I left the school in tears after checking in the window to see him with his arms crossed and head down.  There he was, my little man, mad.  I left not knowing how the day would end.  Not knowing if I would be dealing with tears or anger.  such is the life of a mom. 

I picked them up at 2:45 to huge smiles and high fives !  When asked how school was, both were happy and ready to share all about their day.  I was relieved.  As I went through their folders later on, I found this adorable monster.

 And this very honest hand.  I saw it on his face when I left, I saw it in how he was sitting holding his hands together, in how he wouldn't say hello to any of the kids in the room.  I couldn't ask him in that moment.  I couldn't hear "mommy I'm scared" because quite frankly I was scared myself.  I wanted to hug him and tell him it would be okay but I knew it would make it harder.  So even though I didn't ask, I now know for sure how he felt in that moment, and am grateful that he had an opportunity to express it to me, even if it was at the end of the day in an adorably colored kissing hand :) 

If only it could have been that simple...  nope.  On day 2, after another great day, the little man was a little overconfident in his physical capabilities and thought he could jump from 8 feet up.  After some scary moments hearing "I'm going to die!"  and "why did I do that?  I'm not really smart!" and "I need to go to the hospital!", we went for some x-rays.  Although it is not conclusively broken, he is in pain.  He is on crutches..  It has been a challenge having him so limited as to what he can do..  but he has made the best of it only as Michael can.  He hobbled all over my friends yard yesterday and convinced the big kids to take care of him.  

So we start week two with a very happy 8 year old and hobbling not so scared any more 6 year old.  Despite our emergency room excitement, it has been a great week and we are looking forward to next week going to school "unscared" and "un-new". 

Life is good..

New Beginnings

It's back to school time at our house.  Like everyone else with small children it brings along with it mixed emotions.  I have loved our lazy summer days.. or not so lazy.  There were lots of swimming lessons, beach days, walks, bike rides, and camps.  This has by far been the best summer yet for us as a family.  Although I will miss summer, I am looking forward to a little peace and quiet, walks with Dave and seeing my kids come home from school with something new every day excited to share.

This year in particular will be different.  The kids are not going to walk through familiar doors next week.  They won't have that excitement in seeing all of their friends that they have missed.  This year is new.  For reasons that are really not so important now that decisions have been made, we decided to start fresh.  They are leaving what was a small family atmosphere for a much larger school.  I liked small, but look forward to them meeting so many new faces.  There are the uniforms that made mornings so easy.  I will miss them.  Emily on the other hand came home from shoe shopping with Grandma with tons of shoes that "don't need socks and are not all white or brown!"  She was ecstatic.  There are the teachers we LOVED...  really LOVED...  tremendously gifted people who loved our children more than we could have hoped.  I will miss them, but know that there are teachers just like that where they are going.

Change is a funny thing.  Sometimes change happens to us.  For instance, my little man sees this change as happening to him.  He is mad, he is anxious and a little scared.  He liked his school.  He cried every morning for 2 years going to school.  Last year he finally felt comfortable at school.  And now we start again....  I am bracing myself.

Sometimes we embrace change.  Emily is so excited!  She made me take her for school supplies as soon as we had the list.  On our tour of the school she kept saying "I love this place!"  She had a difficult year last year and is looking forward to starting fresh.  She has found every positive aspect about her new school and is focusing on the good. She is excited about gym and music twice a week.  When she saw the art room she was in awe :) So far she has embraced this change without any anxiety at all.  For those of you that know her, this is HUGE....

And then there are those that agonize over change.  Pretty sure that's where I stand.  There was so much good where we were.  So many things to be happy about.  There were also some things we wished for that just weren't. I can't wait until the first day.  I just need it to happen.  I need it to be okay.  Don't get me wrong, I am happy with our decision, and I think, for us, it is the right decision.  But how do you know for sure???  I will know when Michael walks in for the first time without looking back.  I will know when Emily comes home talking about her new friends.  I guess it really isn't me knowing I made the right decision, but them knowing.  I just want them to know that mom isn't tearing them from a place they love for no reason, but because she agonized for months weighed so many things...  It is so hard as a parent to know what you should do..  Especially when you thought you had already figured this part out.

Here is to new beginnings, embracing change, and understanding when sometimes that whole embrace thing might take a while. 

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.