Mornings around our house can either be completely organized, or completely insane. There is no in between. By insane, I mean chaotic, temper tantrum throwing, don't know where your socks are type of mornings.
And I only have to get one kid out the door for school at this point. Next year I'll really be in trouble.
This morning was a good one until J left for school. Then things got ugly.
L wanted eggs for breakfast, but O wanted cereal. K didn't want anything, as usual, because that child can survive on three sips of milk and a grape.
O had gotten herself dressed, but was angry with her jeans because they weren't staying up on her minuscule waist. I tightened the adjustable elastic waistband to the point that anymore adjusting might just very well saw the girl in half.
Since I hit snooze on my alarm way too many times, I didn't get up early enough to exercise and that was making me grumpy since I knew I'd never get it done later in the day, so I wasn't too patient with requests from little people who seemed to think they were in a diner waiting on their waitress, Edna, to bring them some food.
Then, K walked into the kitchen half moaning, half whining a question, "Where is blahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh?"
I couldn't tell what blahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh meant this morning and I can't tell you what it means right now. All I know is that she wanted something.
"What are you looking for?" I asked.
"Where is Wawa's (that's what she calls her sister) princess blahhhhhhhhhhh?"
Even though I knew this would send her into a tailspin, I had to ask, "Where is Wawa's princess WHAT?"
"CAKE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" she screamed.
Now I was really in a state of confusion because I knew we didn't have a princess cake in the house, but I quickly remembered that O had a Tinkerbell cake at her birthday in September and since K sometimes calls Tinkerbell a princess AND since she has an uncanny ability to remember bizarre things for months and months and months that maybe she was wondering what happened to the cake. So I answered her.
"Honey, we ate it."
She looked at me horrified and yelled, "YOU ATE IT? WHY WOULD YOU EAT IT? WAWA! MOMMY ATE YOUR CAKE!!!!!!!"
This was followed by uncontrollable sobs from her two year old little body. At this point I was thinking the girl really needed to get a grip because she was obviously overreacting and that's when O looked at me confused and said, "Why would you eat my princess cape?"
I looked back at her very confused. Cape? Why would I eat a cape? What in the heck was she talking about? And then my five year old very calmly explained to me that K wasn't asking where the princess CAKE was, she wanted to know where the princess CAPE was that they use for dress up.
It all finally made sense. K was relieved that her mother wasn't a cape eating monster and I realized that I either need to learn to speak two year old, or else I need to have O around all the time.
The irony of this hasn't escaped me. Here O is the one whose speech is constantly being scrutinized because of her cleft palate. She gets therapy; she's even having surgery in March to improve her speech. Now she's translating for someone else. Somehow maybe she just "gets it" better than I do and she can understand the misunderstood.
Here's a video clip of J's basketball game a couple of weeks ago. He's the one shooting.
J's Basketball from June Clever on Vimeo.
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Sunday, January 27, 2008
My Bucket List
The lovely Karla prompted me to do this meme. Why are they called "memes"? I don't think I like that word--meme. It's icky kind of like moist, and hygiene, and slacks. But, I digress.
Here they are in no particular order:
1. Write a children's book and get it published.
This is something I've wanted to do since I was a child. In fact, I used to write positively terrible knock offs of my favorite authors Beverly Cleary and Judy Blume.
2. Drink a glass of Dom Perignon champagne.
I don't even like champagne, but something in my head says that if the champagne is that expensive then it must taste fabulous. Most alcohol doesn't taste real fabulous, so I'm probably kidding myself.
3. Have a big family.
Cross this baby off!! This has also been on my "must do" list since I was very young. Being an only child, I always longed for a big, chaotic family with lots of noise. Be careful what you wish for...
4. Go on a vacation to Colonial Williamsburg.
This has to be done before the kids are grown and gone because it just wouldn't be any fun without them.
5. Meet somebody famous.
I don't really who I'd like this to be. I just want it to be a person that is famous for a good reason and not like someone who is a serial killer or something.
6. Take the girls to Chicago for a day at American Girl.
This will probably require as much money saving as our trip to Disney. This is a total money drainer, but it's a little girl's dream.
7. Go with Mike and the boys to Lawrence, Kansas to see a Jayhawks basketball game.
I'm not a huge sports fan, but being with a displaced Jayhawk for the past 16 years has caused me to like KU basketball. The boys would be thrilled to actually go to a game and the looks on their faces would be awesome.
8. Learn to play the cello.
Another childhood dream here. I always said I'd do this when I was pregnant. What was I thinking? How in the heck can you play the cello with a big belly in the way?
9. Take a trip to Italy.
This would be purely for the cuisine. I would eat my way through every kind of pasta and pizza I could find and then I'd return to the U.S. 20 pounds heavier.
10. Learn to decorate cakes.
I'm a pitiful cake decorator. I'm lucky to spread frosting on smoothly, so I have a huge admiration for anyone who can do even the simplest of decorating.
11. Go to a fancy schmansy spa where I'd get to stay for a few days.
This would be the ultimate in relaxation. I wouldn't ever want to leave.
12. Own a convertible.
This might have to wait until the kids are grown--and out of college--and we've paid for weddings. I might be 70, but by golly, I'm going to have a convertible to drive my grandchildren around in!
13. Meet my friend, Colleen, face to face.
We've been emailing and calling each other for the past 3 years and she knows me probably just as well, if not better, than most of my friends who see me on a regular basis. Oh the fun we would have talking and talking and talking and talking and talking...
14. Go to Mackinaw Island.
Ever since I saw "Somewhere in Time" the place has intrigued me.
So, there it is. I'm tagging YOU, dear readers! Go make your lists and report back.
Here they are in no particular order:
1. Write a children's book and get it published.
This is something I've wanted to do since I was a child. In fact, I used to write positively terrible knock offs of my favorite authors Beverly Cleary and Judy Blume.
2. Drink a glass of Dom Perignon champagne.
I don't even like champagne, but something in my head says that if the champagne is that expensive then it must taste fabulous. Most alcohol doesn't taste real fabulous, so I'm probably kidding myself.
3. Have a big family.
Cross this baby off!! This has also been on my "must do" list since I was very young. Being an only child, I always longed for a big, chaotic family with lots of noise. Be careful what you wish for...
4. Go on a vacation to Colonial Williamsburg.
This has to be done before the kids are grown and gone because it just wouldn't be any fun without them.
5. Meet somebody famous.
I don't really who I'd like this to be. I just want it to be a person that is famous for a good reason and not like someone who is a serial killer or something.
6. Take the girls to Chicago for a day at American Girl.
This will probably require as much money saving as our trip to Disney. This is a total money drainer, but it's a little girl's dream.
7. Go with Mike and the boys to Lawrence, Kansas to see a Jayhawks basketball game.
I'm not a huge sports fan, but being with a displaced Jayhawk for the past 16 years has caused me to like KU basketball. The boys would be thrilled to actually go to a game and the looks on their faces would be awesome.
8. Learn to play the cello.
Another childhood dream here. I always said I'd do this when I was pregnant. What was I thinking? How in the heck can you play the cello with a big belly in the way?
9. Take a trip to Italy.
This would be purely for the cuisine. I would eat my way through every kind of pasta and pizza I could find and then I'd return to the U.S. 20 pounds heavier.
10. Learn to decorate cakes.
I'm a pitiful cake decorator. I'm lucky to spread frosting on smoothly, so I have a huge admiration for anyone who can do even the simplest of decorating.
11. Go to a fancy schmansy spa where I'd get to stay for a few days.
This would be the ultimate in relaxation. I wouldn't ever want to leave.
12. Own a convertible.
This might have to wait until the kids are grown--and out of college--and we've paid for weddings. I might be 70, but by golly, I'm going to have a convertible to drive my grandchildren around in!
13. Meet my friend, Colleen, face to face.
We've been emailing and calling each other for the past 3 years and she knows me probably just as well, if not better, than most of my friends who see me on a regular basis. Oh the fun we would have talking and talking and talking and talking and talking...
14. Go to Mackinaw Island.
Ever since I saw "Somewhere in Time" the place has intrigued me.
So, there it is. I'm tagging YOU, dear readers! Go make your lists and report back.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Another reason the writers' strike needs to end
Last night I was trying to find something worthwhile to watch on television. There is, of course, nothing to watch thanks to this writers' strike that will probably never end. I guess there are benefits to this. We definitely watch less t.v. However, last night, I really wanted to just be entertained without having to think.
And so, I watched the "20 Greatest Redneck Moments" on CMT. And, I found it oddly entertaining and intriguing.
This strike as got to end.
And so, I watched the "20 Greatest Redneck Moments" on CMT. And, I found it oddly entertaining and intriguing.
This strike as got to end.
Saturday, January 19, 2008
Alarm Clock
A glorious Saturday morning with nowhere to go. What a great day to sleep in. I was warm and cozy in my bed. My quilt was all around me and my soft pillow was so, so comfortable.
Suddenly, I felt a presence next to my bed. Then I realized through my tightly closed eyelids that a light was shining right in my face. I heard money jingling. Was this a bizarre dream?
No, this wasn't a dream. It was my five year old, human alarm clock.
I opened my eyes reluctantly to see him standing next to my bed, flashlight in hand, examining loose change.
"What in the world are you doing?" I asked in a sleepy whisper.
"Yooking at money very carefully," he answered.
"I can see that, but why are you doing it next to my bed? Why don't you go in your room or better yet, since the sun is out go downstairs," I begged wanting to sleep.
"I have to do it here because your room is dark and if I go where the sunshine is, I won't be able to see the flashlight light."
Oh yes, it all makes perfect sense...
to a five year old.
Suddenly, I felt a presence next to my bed. Then I realized through my tightly closed eyelids that a light was shining right in my face. I heard money jingling. Was this a bizarre dream?
No, this wasn't a dream. It was my five year old, human alarm clock.
I opened my eyes reluctantly to see him standing next to my bed, flashlight in hand, examining loose change.
"What in the world are you doing?" I asked in a sleepy whisper.
"Yooking at money very carefully," he answered.
"I can see that, but why are you doing it next to my bed? Why don't you go in your room or better yet, since the sun is out go downstairs," I begged wanting to sleep.
"I have to do it here because your room is dark and if I go where the sunshine is, I won't be able to see the flashlight light."
Oh yes, it all makes perfect sense...
to a five year old.
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Wearing a different hat this week
I've worked every day this week as a sub in 3rd grade.
I am tired.
No, I do not want a cookie or some other similar award for doing this because I know that the entire world works and right now someone who lives in Texas is probably reading this and wanting to throw something at their computer screen because I'm moaning about having had worked four whole days.
But, here's the thing, I'm not used to this type of work. There was a time a mere four years ago when I was teaching full time and being the mom to three children--two of which were twins who decided that sleep was not a necessity. And, I survived it, so I know that I'll survive this too.
This working arragement has really put my kids in a state of annoyance--particularly O. She keeps asking me in exasperated tones, "How many more days are you doing this? We need you here."
The kids are being very lovingly cared for by my mom. It's not like they're with a stranger.
It just makes me appreciate my time at home with my kids. Is staying home easy? Heck NO! There are days that being home and trying to juggle arguments, playing, housework, and laundry is more exhausting than a classroom full of talkative 3rd graders.
But today, I'm very thankful that tomorrow is Friday and next week I get to go back to being, Mommy.
I am tired.
No, I do not want a cookie or some other similar award for doing this because I know that the entire world works and right now someone who lives in Texas is probably reading this and wanting to throw something at their computer screen because I'm moaning about having had worked four whole days.
But, here's the thing, I'm not used to this type of work. There was a time a mere four years ago when I was teaching full time and being the mom to three children--two of which were twins who decided that sleep was not a necessity. And, I survived it, so I know that I'll survive this too.
This working arragement has really put my kids in a state of annoyance--particularly O. She keeps asking me in exasperated tones, "How many more days are you doing this? We need you here."
The kids are being very lovingly cared for by my mom. It's not like they're with a stranger.
It just makes me appreciate my time at home with my kids. Is staying home easy? Heck NO! There are days that being home and trying to juggle arguments, playing, housework, and laundry is more exhausting than a classroom full of talkative 3rd graders.
But today, I'm very thankful that tomorrow is Friday and next week I get to go back to being, Mommy.
Wearing a different hat this week
I've worked every day this week as a sub in 3rd grade.
I am tired.
No, I do not want a cookie or some other similar award for doing this because I know that the entire world works and right now someone who lives in Texas is probably reading this and wanting to throw something at their computer screen because I'm moaning about having had worked four whole days.
But, here's the thing, I'm not used to this type of work. There was a time a mere four years ago when I was teaching full time and being the mom to three children--two of which were twins who decided that sleep was not a necessity. And, I survived it, so I know that I'll survive this too.
This working arragement has really put my kids in a state of annoyance--particularly O. She keeps asking me in exasperated tones, "How many more days are you doing this? We need you here."
The kids are being very lovingly cared for by my mom. It's not like they're with a stranger.
It just makes me appreciate my time at home with my kids. Is staying home easy? Heck NO! There are days that being home and trying to juggle arguments, playing, housework, and laundry is more exhausting than a classroom full of talkative 3rd graders.
But today, I'm very thankful that tomorrow is Friday and next week I get to go back to being, Mommy.
I am tired.
No, I do not want a cookie or some other similar award for doing this because I know that the entire world works and right now someone who lives in Texas is probably reading this and wanting to throw something at their computer screen because I'm moaning about having had worked four whole days.
But, here's the thing, I'm not used to this type of work. There was a time a mere four years ago when I was teaching full time and being the mom to three children--two of which were twins who decided that sleep was not a necessity. And, I survived it, so I know that I'll survive this too.
This working arragement has really put my kids in a state of annoyance--particularly O. She keeps asking me in exasperated tones, "How many more days are you doing this? We need you here."
The kids are being very lovingly cared for by my mom. It's not like they're with a stranger.
It just makes me appreciate my time at home with my kids. Is staying home easy? Heck NO! There are days that being home and trying to juggle arguments, playing, housework, and laundry is more exhausting than a classroom full of talkative 3rd graders.
But today, I'm very thankful that tomorrow is Friday and next week I get to go back to being, Mommy.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
What not to say to a parent of twins
When the twins were born, we received a lot of unsolicited advice and commentary. Some of it was helpful, while some of it made me look away and roll my eyes. After a few months, I decided that I was going to make a list of things not to say to a parent of twins--particularly if you do not know the family well. Here are a few, just in case you're wondering.
1. Are they twins? How I wanted to answer, but I was too polite: Well, they're exactly the same size, they're in matching car seats and both my husband and I look like we haven't slept in weeks. What do you think?
2. Oh, a boy and a girl. Are they identical? How I wanted to answer, but I was too polite to make people feel like idiots: Um, let's see...one of them has a penis and one does not. Gee, I guess that makes them identical!
3. Twins (insert sinister laugh here) that's double trouble. How I actually did respond: Actually, it's a double blessing since we had a heck of a time getting them here.
4. Are they "real twins" or did you have to take drugs to get them? How I actually answered because I was tired of perfect strangers inquiring about my gynecological history: Real compared to WHAT? Fake babies? They are indeed real babies. The three feedings in the middle of the night and countless diaper changes wouldn't be happening if they weren't real.
Here are some of the comments many well meaning people would say that made me shake my head.
"If I had twins I would dress them alike all the time."
No you wouldn't. You'd dress them in whatever is clean.
"Oh, a boy and a girl. Now you have the perfect family."
What?? Because any other combination of children isn't perfect???????
"My grandma/aunt/uncle/cousin twice removed was a twin, but his/her twin died when he/she was three months old."
Thank you for sharing that bit of info, bearer of doom and gloom.
In today's society where more and more multiples are being born, one would think that it would be commonplace and that the public would be used to seeing multiples, but really, multiples are attention getters anywhere and everywhere they go. Quite frankly, I'm more amazed at huge families with children of varying ages. Wow. First of all, how did they decide to have that many and how do they ever get out of the house on time? I have trouble enough with my four!
Now when we go in public, nobody asks us if L and O are twins. We do; however, get this question a lot in reference to them, "Oh, they must be very close in age. How far apart are they."
I love to see the looks on faces when we say, "One minute."
It takes awhile for people to figure it out.
1. Are they twins? How I wanted to answer, but I was too polite: Well, they're exactly the same size, they're in matching car seats and both my husband and I look like we haven't slept in weeks. What do you think?
2. Oh, a boy and a girl. Are they identical? How I wanted to answer, but I was too polite to make people feel like idiots: Um, let's see...one of them has a penis and one does not. Gee, I guess that makes them identical!
3. Twins (insert sinister laugh here) that's double trouble. How I actually did respond: Actually, it's a double blessing since we had a heck of a time getting them here.
4. Are they "real twins" or did you have to take drugs to get them? How I actually answered because I was tired of perfect strangers inquiring about my gynecological history: Real compared to WHAT? Fake babies? They are indeed real babies. The three feedings in the middle of the night and countless diaper changes wouldn't be happening if they weren't real.
Here are some of the comments many well meaning people would say that made me shake my head.
"If I had twins I would dress them alike all the time."
No you wouldn't. You'd dress them in whatever is clean.
"Oh, a boy and a girl. Now you have the perfect family."
What?? Because any other combination of children isn't perfect???????
"My grandma/aunt/uncle/cousin twice removed was a twin, but his/her twin died when he/she was three months old."
Thank you for sharing that bit of info, bearer of doom and gloom.
In today's society where more and more multiples are being born, one would think that it would be commonplace and that the public would be used to seeing multiples, but really, multiples are attention getters anywhere and everywhere they go. Quite frankly, I'm more amazed at huge families with children of varying ages. Wow. First of all, how did they decide to have that many and how do they ever get out of the house on time? I have trouble enough with my four!
Now when we go in public, nobody asks us if L and O are twins. We do; however, get this question a lot in reference to them, "Oh, they must be very close in age. How far apart are they."
I love to see the looks on faces when we say, "One minute."
It takes awhile for people to figure it out.
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
On behalf of all women
Dear Whoever Makes The Universal Rules For Men,
I have been married to a man for almost 13 years. I have been with the same said man for nearly 16 years and I have some complaints to you, maker of the MAN RULES. Listen up.
If the wife, significant other, possible girlfriend, friend, or helpless female acquaintance should happen to call a man during his lunch hour when he is eating a very casual lunch with co-workers and tell him that the back gate of her nearly new van is not shutting properly again thereby putting her children at risk of flying out or being hit with a flying object that might be sailing through the sky as she drives down the road, the proper response to this information should not be, "I'll call the dealership later and make an appointment."
I ask you, oh maker of the universal rules for men, what is this female supposed to do in the mean time when she need to go somewhere? Should she, as her husband once did, make their four year old son hold it shut by using the rope to his sister's hand-held princess fan?
The correct response to this plea for help by a female should also not be, "Get a screw driver and while you're holding up on the handle, move the latch around until it clicks."
This would be sound advice if the woman were:
A. 7 feet tall or had an arm span that rivaled a jet airplane's wings because it is nearly impossible for a 5' 6" person to do this.
OR
B. Able to understand what "move the latch around until it clicks" means. Does this mean that she should hear a loud click? What if the click isn't a good click? What if she breaks something and she's forced to use the male's vehicle which smells of sweaty shin guards and feet?
And while I'm at it, Mr. Maker of Man Rules, (because I know you are a Mr. and not a Ms. or Mrs.) why must men leave their underwear behind the bathroom door instead of putting them in the dirty clothes?
I don't expect you to answer me because I'm sure you don't know. And really getting you to admit that you don't know something would be a travesty.
Sincerely,
A Woman Who Nearly Beat Her Van To Death With a Screwdriver
I have been married to a man for almost 13 years. I have been with the same said man for nearly 16 years and I have some complaints to you, maker of the MAN RULES. Listen up.
If the wife, significant other, possible girlfriend, friend, or helpless female acquaintance should happen to call a man during his lunch hour when he is eating a very casual lunch with co-workers and tell him that the back gate of her nearly new van is not shutting properly again thereby putting her children at risk of flying out or being hit with a flying object that might be sailing through the sky as she drives down the road, the proper response to this information should not be, "I'll call the dealership later and make an appointment."
I ask you, oh maker of the universal rules for men, what is this female supposed to do in the mean time when she need to go somewhere? Should she, as her husband once did, make their four year old son hold it shut by using the rope to his sister's hand-held princess fan?
The correct response to this plea for help by a female should also not be, "Get a screw driver and while you're holding up on the handle, move the latch around until it clicks."
This would be sound advice if the woman were:
A. 7 feet tall or had an arm span that rivaled a jet airplane's wings because it is nearly impossible for a 5' 6" person to do this.
OR
B. Able to understand what "move the latch around until it clicks" means. Does this mean that she should hear a loud click? What if the click isn't a good click? What if she breaks something and she's forced to use the male's vehicle which smells of sweaty shin guards and feet?
And while I'm at it, Mr. Maker of Man Rules, (because I know you are a Mr. and not a Ms. or Mrs.) why must men leave their underwear behind the bathroom door instead of putting them in the dirty clothes?
I don't expect you to answer me because I'm sure you don't know. And really getting you to admit that you don't know something would be a travesty.
Sincerely,
A Woman Who Nearly Beat Her Van To Death With a Screwdriver
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
Soccer Widow
Yesterday I was feeling all warm and fuzzy about life and then today I realized that we had to start the dreaded soccer season. J loves to play soccer and I don't want to take that from him. I love going to his games and it's so much fun to see how excited he is about the game. What I don't enjoy is the practices that are 35 minutes away from our house two nights a week, 9 months out of the year, using port-a-potties at games, tournaments in far off cities where I not only have to pack for a family of 6, but then entertain J's three very bored siblings during the tournaments.
I'm essentially on my own during tournaments because Mike is the assistant coach to J's team and the assistant to another U16 boys team. And while he knows how to set limits on his "regular" job and knows when to say when, he doesn't know how to set limits for soccer. He has gotten better at cutting back, but it still isn't great.
So, today I sent Mike and J off to begin another season of running. Another season of shoving a snack in J's mouth as he runs off to practice or a game. Another season of cringing every time J goes down in a game and hurts his ankle. Another season of hauling three whining kids, a blanket, a bag of snacks, crayons, coloring books, and a few chairs across 17 soccer fields because J invariably plays on the field farthest from our van--no matter where we park.
I should've asked for a golf cart and a person assistant for Christmas to help me get through another soccer season.
I'm essentially on my own during tournaments because Mike is the assistant coach to J's team and the assistant to another U16 boys team. And while he knows how to set limits on his "regular" job and knows when to say when, he doesn't know how to set limits for soccer. He has gotten better at cutting back, but it still isn't great.
So, today I sent Mike and J off to begin another season of running. Another season of shoving a snack in J's mouth as he runs off to practice or a game. Another season of cringing every time J goes down in a game and hurts his ankle. Another season of hauling three whining kids, a blanket, a bag of snacks, crayons, coloring books, and a few chairs across 17 soccer fields because J invariably plays on the field farthest from our van--no matter where we park.
I should've asked for a golf cart and a person assistant for Christmas to help me get through another soccer season.
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
Looking forward
The last 11 days have truly been a vacation for our family. We didn't go anywhere exotic or warm. We stayed here, played, ate, slept, and just relaxed. Mike's last day of work was the 21st of December and then he took the rest of the month off. He goes back to work tomorrow and I have to say, I'm sad to see this all end.
The past, nearly two weeks, has really taught me to be thankful. I'm thankful that I have a husband who is really good at his job, but isn't a work-a-holic. He understands the importance of being with his family and he absolutely loves playing with the kids. I'm thankful that he understands that I need a break every now and then. I'm thankful that he isn't afraid to clean a toilet or vacuum a floor.
I'm thankful that my kids are still young enough to want to be with us. They don't crave their friends every moment of every day. J isn't involved in school sports yet so that we aren't consumed with practices and games over Christmas Break. I know that this break was a very special one because by next year, he'll be in junior high and this could all change.
I have a friend who has four children. Her youngest is a junior in high school and the other three are in college. The love she has for her kids just radiates from her and whenever I talk to her, I think God is using her to show me and remind me that these precious years I have with my kids are fleeting. There are days when I feel like I'm running in circles and I can't get everything done that I need to. Thoughts run through my mind on those days such as, "If I could just be alone in this house for two hours, I could get so much done!"
And then I have a stab of guilt in my heart because I know that one day, I will be alone in this house and I will be so very sad. I see Kirsten as she puts her daughter on a plane to another country to visit the love of her life and I don't know how she does it. I listen to her tell me about how her oldest son has met a girl he deeply loves and if he does marry her, they'll move several states away and I don't know how she doesn't try to talk him out of it! It's not because her children are making poor decisions because they aren't, it's because she has to let go and I don't know if I'm ever going to be able to do that.
For right now, I'm glad I can still grab them all and cuddle on the couch. I'm thankful for their warm, slobbery kisses and tight hugs. And I'm so, so, so thankful to God that he allowed me to be their mother.
The past, nearly two weeks, has really taught me to be thankful. I'm thankful that I have a husband who is really good at his job, but isn't a work-a-holic. He understands the importance of being with his family and he absolutely loves playing with the kids. I'm thankful that he understands that I need a break every now and then. I'm thankful that he isn't afraid to clean a toilet or vacuum a floor.
I'm thankful that my kids are still young enough to want to be with us. They don't crave their friends every moment of every day. J isn't involved in school sports yet so that we aren't consumed with practices and games over Christmas Break. I know that this break was a very special one because by next year, he'll be in junior high and this could all change.
I have a friend who has four children. Her youngest is a junior in high school and the other three are in college. The love she has for her kids just radiates from her and whenever I talk to her, I think God is using her to show me and remind me that these precious years I have with my kids are fleeting. There are days when I feel like I'm running in circles and I can't get everything done that I need to. Thoughts run through my mind on those days such as, "If I could just be alone in this house for two hours, I could get so much done!"
And then I have a stab of guilt in my heart because I know that one day, I will be alone in this house and I will be so very sad. I see Kirsten as she puts her daughter on a plane to another country to visit the love of her life and I don't know how she does it. I listen to her tell me about how her oldest son has met a girl he deeply loves and if he does marry her, they'll move several states away and I don't know how she doesn't try to talk him out of it! It's not because her children are making poor decisions because they aren't, it's because she has to let go and I don't know if I'm ever going to be able to do that.
For right now, I'm glad I can still grab them all and cuddle on the couch. I'm thankful for their warm, slobbery kisses and tight hugs. And I'm so, so, so thankful to God that he allowed me to be their mother.
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