Last night, while standing in my kitchen, I was overcome with a flood of emotions and shed a few tears thinking about voting for a woman presidential candidate on Tuesday and all that could mean. Sure, this may seem silly or trivial to you and you may shake your head in disgust or confusion, but to this bossy girl who has never backed down from an argument with a man and NEVER thought women should be standing behind a man instead of next to or in front of a man, this is big…dare I say…YUGE!
And it's not just that it's a woman, it's this woman: Hillary Clinton. I am so proud to be voting for her tomorrow. Again, you may not understand this, but I DO like her, respect her and think she has what it takes to be president. She has been standing her ground and fighting for people for so long and NEVER giving up…EVER. Hillary has more stamina than people half her age; she amazes me! This is the kind of strong, smart, experienced woman I have dreamed of becoming president.
But I'm not here to convince you. At this late hour, you have made your decision and likely already cast your vote. No, I'm simply brimming with emotions and excitement and anxiety and maybe you are too.
So, tomorrow I'll go with my two boys and color in that little oval as my boys witness this momentous occasion, we'll get the I VOTED sticker and I might spill a few tears thinking of all the women who have come before and made crack after crack in that glass ceiling, giving me the right to vote, the strength to voice my strong opinions, the opportunity to get an education and become an attorney and the chance to vote for female candidates in races at every level of government. I can't tell you how excited I am about this!
I will wait on pins and needles and monitor polls and news reports as polls close and counts come in, and you can bet I'll be praying for our nation, our leaders and our citizens.
This is personal. I am a woman. I am a Christian. I am a mom. I support love and mercy and kindness and coming together, helping those who can't help themselves and living in harmony, regardless of differing backgrounds, opinions, religions and standing up for all peoples' rights. I refuse to succumb to an Us v. Them, hateful, fearful, antagonist, racist, misogynistic attitude.
I…we…have a lot at stake tomorrow. I know I am not alone in this flood of emotions leading up to this day. So, here's to all the women (and men) who have fought so hard for women's rights. I can't wait for that glass ceiling to shatter. Over and out…
As our second year of homeschool has begun, I can now tell you my most favorite and most challenging things about my new(ish) gig. It's a lot like when my kids were younger and not in school yet and we were together almost constantly. And what I found then and what I find now is that for the most part, spending more time with my kids allows me to tolerate them more easily than when I see them less….maybe you think I should have used enjoy rather than tolerate, but most days I feel like tolerating is the best I can do…if I'm keepin' real.
So, what I'm saying is that it works. We all tolerate each other sometimes and enjoy each other's company other times. And sometimes I assign myself a timeout. Just as it is with families, in general. There are definitely some perks to homeschool and some very big challenges too. Here's what I can tell you about my experience after year one.
Top 10 Favorite Things about Homeschooling:
No homework struggles because there is no homework!
No lunches to pack
No early morning rushing around to get out the door…no early mornings at all. We start school mid-morning
We can stay in our pjs for school, if we choose, and sometimes we do
No standardized tests!
Flexible schedules for field trips, traveling and impromptu or prolonged lessons
Teaching subjects of our choosing: Latin and Greek roots, cursive, the Bible and lots of group discussions and group reading of a variety of subject matter and types of writing, U.S. geography, etc.
Our trips!
Watching my kids learn and use their knowledge
The boys get one day of lessons with my parents every week, and that is priceless
Top 10 Challenging Things about Homeschooling
I'm ALWAYS with my kids!
I never feel like I'm finished for the day – there's always more housework, school preparations and legal editing work to be done
Being patient with my kids
Staying somewhat on track with lesson plans and outside activities, etc.
Finding our place. So many friends don't homeschool. A few do, but they have for years and have their niche and each homeschooling family has its own philosophy and curriculum and schedule.
Accomplishing everything I want to each school day.
Arguing with my kids over doing math or practicing cursive, etc.
Keeping my kids focused
Making lessons interesting and relatable
Trying not to completely lose myself and my interests and passions
It's not always easy, but sometimes it is. Just like everything in life. Over and out…
I rarely shop for clothes any more. It's not easy. It's not fun. Becoming a mom has sucked all the joy out of clothes shopping. Now, I'm not talking about my body, but that's seen better days too.
No, what I'm referring to is the process of choosing clothes to try on: picking clothes that look like something I'd like and/or look good in, those that are my size; taking said clothes to the dressing room and trying on the large stack of cute, stylish clothes; then looking at myself in the mirror, picturing where and when I'd wear said clothes, checking out all angles, sitting, standing, etc.; and finally carefully deciding whether to purchase said clothing by examining price and material/care tag and fit and style.
It's a long process. Sometimes it requires a whole day to do this properly.
I can barely remember what that was like. For the past 10 years my clothes shopping looks more like one of these two scenarios:
Scenario 1: My boys are with me.
I grab clothes. Whatever is the easiest to get my hands on as I walk by. Style matters not. I hope for something close to the right size. I snatch about 6 to 8 pieces of clothing as quickly as possible and head for the dressing rooms. The clock is ticking….
When my kids were younger, I'd park them in the dressing room with me and hand them my phone to play a game. Now, they sit or stand right outside the dressing room area, close enough to talk to me and/or knock on my door. Regardless of location, the conversation would still sound about the same.
I tear off my clothes and remove clothes from the hangers at the same time…..then, I hear it…"Mom, are you done yet?"
"No. Sit down and wait."
I keep going…I get the first piece of clothing on. Does it button? Yes. Is there a gap? No. …Do I look fat? No…Is it black? Yes. Check…it passes all tests! NEXT thing!
There's a rapping on the door…"Yes?"
"Mom?"
"YES?"
"Are you still in there?"
"YES! Sit down!"
OK. Jeans on…No bulges…I'm not tripping on the legs…I'll take 'em! NEXT!
In mid-quick change…"MOM! HE HIT ME!"
"Almost done! SIT DOWN! DON'T HIT EACH OTHER!"
Two seconds later…
"MOM! ARE YOU DONE YET?"
"NO!" (It's been a total of 10 minutes since I stepped inside the dressing room!)
Continue throwing clothes off and on, glance in the mirror and repeat sequence.
Grab the "OK – it'll do" pile and dash for the checkout.
At this point I have no idea if they all require handwashing and hanging to dry or if I'm going to blow my budget with the this shopping spree because there is no time to check the garment tags or price tags or weigh the necessity of faux fur vest or red wool pants. They were in reaching distance and they fit and that's all that matters right now! I'll figure it out later….and more than likely return about half after a re-try at home. Now, on to the next thing on the to-do list…
Scenario #2: I'm ALONE!
I'm actually alone in a store! I can shop without haste! It's all so shocking and unfamiliar that for the first 30 to 60 minutes I walk around like a zombie; my mind a blur, my mouth agape, my eyes glazed over. I just soak up the silence. I can't quite focus on what I'm there to do.
Finally, I gather my senses and begin to shop. Slowly going from rack to rack looking at clothes, feeling the fabric, checking styles and sizes and prices. I begin to gather a variety of pieces to try on…that's when I get the first text…
"When are you coming home?"
"I'm not sure. I'm just getting started."
"You've been gone an hour already."
"Yep."
I go to the dressing room. I begin to sort through the clothes to try on. Another text….
"What are we supposed to eat?"
"Whatever you can find."
"OK"
I keep going, sorting into yes, no, maybe and try on again piles. Another text…
"Can you get some milk?"
"Sure."
I continue my slow process of deciding upon the clothes that actually fit. I contemplate going back for another round of looking and choosing and trying on. Another text…
"When do you think you'll bring the milk?"
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH! I give up.
"I'm getting milk now….heading home!"
And that folks is why most of my jeans are as old as my kids and why I often wear black shirts and cardigans and scarves and hats. After all, cardigans, scarves and hats can be quickly tried on right there in the aisle.
And really it doesn't matter. I spend most of my time with my kids and other moms and their kids and they don't care what I wear. I often work in the middle of the night in pjs while sitting at my dining room table surrounded by sleeping dogs and cats. They don't care what my work wardrobe looks like either.
Every year since my older son started kindergarten I've written a start of school year prayer. Last year that prayer was a little different because I was not only mom, but also teacher. This year begins year two of homeschooling. And, as always, this start of the school year prayer is essential.
Dear Lord,
I pray for peace and patience to not yell at my kids when they push every single one of my buttons. I pray for lightheartedness to not take our days and lessons too seriously and to laugh and enjoy the time we spend together. I pray for the wisdom to guide them to where they need to be and how they need to be taught in order to truly learn. I pray for the fortitude to be mom and teacher and wife and attorney.
I pray for the boys that their minds will be opened and receptive to the lessons I strive to teach. I pray that they will be patient with me, with each other and with themselves as we continue through this still new, uncharted territory. I pray they will be happy and positive and confident in their studies.
I pray for my parents as they once again take on the task of teaching our children once a week. I know this time is so precious and important for the boys. I pray that they will be filled with love and grace and knowledge during this days with their grandparents.
I pray for all the teachers and students who have already or will be starting this school year. I pray for peace and confidence and patience and open minds and hearts throughout all the schools in our nation.
I'm so thankful to have the resources to make this choice to homeschool our kids. I'm thrilled to be able teach through travel and experience and have so many opportunities to go out into our community and beyond to learn first-hand lessons. I pray that we may be a blessing and a beacon of Your love and peace to all those we come in contact with throughout the year. I come to you, Lord, with a grateful and hopeful heart.
This may strike you as selfish, but lately I've been feeling like I – as in my hopes and dreams and ideas and purpose for My Whole Life – are disappearing; being swallowed up. And I'm mourning this loss of me.
When I was a kid I looked ahead and thought I have My Whole Life ahead of me. And boy was it rosy...in my mind's eye. I envisioned having a whole gaggle of kids, a wonderful husband, a brilliant career in something that made me lots of money – the exact details of that career changed from time to time over my childhood. I would have a big, beautiful home filled with beautiful, expensive things – the kind I saw in my grandmother's Southern Living magazines. But more than anything else, I planned to DO SOMETHING BIG with My Whole Life. I just didn't know what it was yet. My Whole Life ahead of me looked amazing!
This vision continued throughout the years, changing slightly, tweaking this or that, lowering the number of children, etc.
Of course, life doesn't usually follow a blueprint drawn out by a 10 year old or an 18 year old or even a 24 year old.
So, by the time I was in my 20s, My Whole Life ahead of me looked different. I still felt that we'd rise above the low starting incomes of just beginning and stupidly acquired debt and still have the big, fine house filled with lovely things and I still thought I could DO SOMETHING BIG in life. By then I was undecided about whether I wanted to have any kids at all, but I was sure I didn't want "lots of kids."
By 30, we had made up our minds about kids…we'd try for 2 – no more than that for sure. We'd soon have our first child. We felt triumphant and thrilled at this new chapter. Life was going well. I had started to ponder what I REALLY WANTED TO DO WITH MY LIFE. I was beginning to dream of writing.
By 40, MY WHOLE LIFE was beginning to be swallowed up by my 2 little humans. Life had thrown us several curve balls in my 30s and I began to lose heart in what My Whole Life would look like in the end. Now, I no longer look at my life and think about DOING SOMETHING BIG in the way that I once did.
My Whole Life is taken up by teaching my kids, doing laundry, shopping for groceries, making meals, struggling through parenting with 2 stubborn, well-versed in arguing, young men, doing my legal editing work at night, paying bills, trying to fit in at least one uninterrupted conversation with my husband, fighting to find some time to do a little writing and all the other minutiae of My Whole small daily Life.
My vision of MY Whole Life is beginning to fade and dry out and crack and crumble like a maple leaf still hanging on the tree late into November.
I have come to realize that My Whole Life is really all about my kids now. I never intended this to happen. This was not my plan. I truly thought I had some big role to play in this world other than raising a family, being a working housewife (not that there is anything wrong with that, but that wasn't what I intended to do with my life)... And now I'm not so sure I will have served much of a role or made much difference at all when it's all said and done.
This is not to say that my life is over or that there is no purpose left or that I have not served some purpose in raising my kids. Not by a long shot. I {hope} I still have lots of time and I have many goals and dreams, but my purpose, my role in this world, is still not clear to me. My Whole Life, as I used to view it, is gone.
Of course, this is not the first time my view of My Whole Life has slipped from view and had to be recreated or adjusted or edited. This happens with each major decision or detour or challenge. And yet, I still held on to this rose-colored view of My Whole Life…until recently.
Sometimes I contemplate whether I should have decided not to have kids. I love my kids and they have added many good things and lots of adventures and laughter to my life, but they have also added more anger and sadness and hurt and struggle to it. And so, I wonder, what would life have been like if we had never decided to have kids? What would My Whole Life look like at 41 then?
I also contemplate what My Whole Life would look like if I had decided to start writing earlier…if we had moved to a different city….if I had changed directions in my career earlier…if I had more passionately pursued a high power career. How would these things change the view from where I stand now?
But it was adding children that took the most enormous bite from my life, gulping it down, leaving me little room to make big changes or do things not centered on them and making me question my purpose and role more than ever. As much as I love my kids and have dedicated so much of my life to raising and educating my kids, this was not what I had in mind for My Whole Life. And honestly, I'm not even very good at this parenting gig. So, maybe that's the ironic part in all of this.
Regardless, from where I stand, My Whole Life now hangs in the balance, awaiting final verdict. Will it have been a well lived life? Could I have lived it better?
So, call me selfish, if you like. Either way, day in and day out, I give much of myself to my family. And perhaps this is what I'm supposed to have done with My Whole Life all along. Or maybe I'm a late bloomer, and there's still something Big to come.
I do hope you read this in the voice I wrote it in. This is neither a complaint nor a "woe is me" call for pity. I'm not depressed or sad. I'm simply mulling it over, looking over the years and realizing how late in the game I am at this point in my life. It is also not intended to place judgment on those who have chosen and intended to choose to devote their whole lives to having kids and raising them. To each his own!
I have to believe I am where I am supposed to be, doing what I am supposed to be doing right now, even if this was not what I envisioned or planned or would have chosen for myself. Can you relate to how I feel? Over and out…
I'm always telling my kids stuff. Some stuff is important and a lot of it is just mundane stuff… "Pick up your coat and put it on the hook." "Put your dish in the sink." "Remember to put clean underwear on…yes, again…You have to put new underwear on every day!" "Brush your teeth…yes, again…yes, you already did it once today. Do it again!" "Sit on your chair properly, PLEASE!" But I think those mundane things are important too otherwise they would be dirty, stinky pigs, living in a filthy home.
And yet, I don't want them to think back on their childhoods and remember only the discussions on hygiene and manners and simple chores. These days, I spend a lot of time with my kids, and I say a lot of stuff to them. So, yes, those routine commands and reminders and discussions are important for all human beings, but these are the messages I really want them to get and remember and live by.
To my boys:
Be Yourself. Whoever that Is. Express yourself through music, art, written words, creations, performances or any other form you see fit. Don't be afraid to be different. It's fine if you stand out or if you blend in or do both from time to time. Be true to thine own heart in all you do. You have much to offer, but you must first accept who you are and understand your strengths and weaknesses. You are not the gift to the world, but you have many gifts to offer the world once you understand who you are and work hard to fully develop these gifts.
Be Kind. This means being merciful, loving, generous, respectful and forgiving, be like Jesus…to yourself and to all others, even your brother….especially your brother. Do not be lulled by the loud, angry voices of the world. Those mantras lead only to unhappiness, discord and hurt. Instead, seek peaceful resolution and compassionate understanding and acceptance. This does not mean letting go of your own convictions and values. It's the opposite. It's standing tall for what you believe in and hold near to your heart even when pushed to the absolute breaking point.
Work Hard. You will never get anywhere or do anything of value or have anything worth having unless you work hard. This means doing even the shit work at the bottom of the ladder; the stuff you don't like or have no passion for, the stuff that doesn't seem to matter. But it does matter. It all matters. Get a job as soon as you can. Feel what it's like to earn money for working hard. Keep working your way through until you get to the stuff that you love. Try your darnedest to find a profession that fills you with passion and joy. But if you don't, keep working hard and build a life that fills you with passion and joy!
Dance. Always dance as you do now and always have since you could stand on your own two legs and groove. Don't lose this zeal for uninhibited freedom of movement. Refer to #1…be yourself! It doesn't matter if you look silly, you are silly and that's a good thing! For so long, I was not sure enough of myself to dance and that is one of the only regrets I have in life. Isn't that funny? You might not think that dancing or not dancing is an important enough issue to be a regret, but it is. So, never stop movin' and groovin' to the beat of the music…even if it's your own beat.
Keep Your Mind and Eyes and Ears Open to the World Around You. There is so much to learn. Every. Single. Day. Often, it's the places and times and people you least expect to learn from that teach you the most. Never shut your mind off. Do not ever think you know everything you need to know. You do not. Explore places and cultures and flavors. Understand the lessons of the past. Look to the future and embrace the ideas not yet realized. And when you encounter a question, a problem, a riddle in life, remember to look for the solution, the answer, the way through or around or under or over no matter how difficult or unsolvable it seems. You have the tools to solve it and find the answer. Never doubt that. Stop talking long enough to look and listen and really see and hear what is all around you. You learn more by listening than by talking. I have said this many times to you, my little chatter boxes.
And one bonus: I Love You! Always remember that you are loved so much that sometimes it hurts just thinking about you out in the big, wide world. And no matter how often we get upset with each other or have arguments or exchange words that are not kind or disagree on big or small things, I will NEVER stop loving you and believing in you. You are my heart.
These are just a few of the messages I want to imprint on my young men. Time goes by so fast that sometimes I wonder what they will remember or think back on and will they know the stuff that mattered more. So many times I hope and pray that I am not crushing, ruining, destroying, stunting these precious, still growing and developing beings from God. My prayer is that the important stuff sticks and all the filler falls away into oblivion. Over and out…
I've struggled this past year. Oh, it has not always been visible on the surface. I keep smiling and going on, but underneath that thin smile there has been unrest, deep sadness, stress, turmoil. It was a hard year with big decisions, loss, guilt, uncertainty. I thought I was doing well, soldiering on, keeping a smile on my face, but by December I realized the toll this year had taken on me.
In 2015, we found out our second son is dyslexic, just as his older brother is. That same son ended up in hospital with an appendicitis – the first surgery for the four of us. A friend of my nine-year old son suddenly and heartbreakingly died. We made the tough decision that I would homeschool the boys. Our beloved dog had a very serious infection and almost died, but thankfully - after a VERY expensive surgery - she has fully recovered.
But we also had the great pleasure of traveling to Wisconsin with friends and to Texas and Oklahoma to spend time with family and friends. We had a blast visiting Marco Island and the Everglades of Florida. We were so thankful to spend Thanksgiving in Kansas City with our family. And the boys and I loved our many local adventures with our friends.
We grew closer to some friends and formed strong bonds with new friends. And we were so proud of the amazing academic accomplishments of our nine year-old son who had struggled in school for so long.
We cried a lot, but certainly cherished those times and the people that brought us laughter and loved and supported us through all the difficult times.
It wasn't just the big stuff that had gotten to me, but the smaller stressors too, I began to recognize. Of course, it wasn't all bad, not by a long shot. There were many wonderful highlights in 2015, as well. And yet, it was the hard stuff holding on to me, pulling me down, by December, which is already the darkest, hardest month of the year for this Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) sufferer.
I sought joy in the most magical time of the year. This time of year that I love so much for so many reasons, but this year over and over the old familiar traditions and activities that I was sure would bring me joy instead let me down and left me feeling disappointed and sad and ripped off; empty. And this made me even sadder.
I tried to sort through my feelings and figure out what to do to change the outcome; to be happier and more joyful, but each attempt failed and the more hollow I felt.
I had not fully realized the amount of stress I had put on myself taking on the education of my children, adding this big, bulky, time-consuming job to my existing responsibilities as a legal editing consultant and house manager. I had not fully recognized the deep guilt and sadness that filled us when my son's friend died last spring; guilt that my sons are still here on Earth and the heartbroken sadness as a mother and friend. And honestly, I still don't fully grasp the depths of these feelings and responsibilities, but I am acknowledging them and accepting that I don't have to fully understand it all.
I like to choose a word for the New Year. And sometimes that word finds me. And this year, I wasn't sure what that word was until I picked up my well-loved, well-worn devotional, God Calling, and read the entry for January 3rd…"You must be renewed, remade…Only Love is a conquering force…Take heart, God loves, God helps, God fights, God wins. You shall see. You shall know. The way will open."
And then I knew my word. It is "Renewed." I must be renewed and remade this year. 2016 must be a year of healing and renewal for me in all areas of my life.
On that note, these are my aspirations for 2016:
Write a letter to the mother of a friend who died. This should have been done years ago.
Make a detailed plan with dates and activities for Date Nights each month with my Husband. Otherwise, we will never have date nights. We're off to a good start with this one.
Stay on Schedule. This is not an easy task for me, but it has become necessary for staying on task for work, for school, for sleep. I can do this as long as every once in a while I can totally go off schedule for a bit.
Yell less. I think this can be accomplished by taking more time to be alone…completely alone to read, write and think.
Write more. This I can do if I follow the above suggestion to take more time for myself to be alone.
Walk more. I like to walk, alone or with a friend, and I feel better when I walk a lot. But this is the thing that gets pushed back and out and forgotten. So, I must put it on the schedule and stick to it.
Pray more. I've always been a prayer, but sometimes I get too busy, too bogged down and I forget how important that is to my every day mental health.
Take at least 3 trips this year and have hundreds of little adventures. I'm off to a great start on this goal too!
And keep on: reading, talking with my kids – there's always so much to talk about – and really listen to what they have to say too, adventuring, traveling, experiencing and laughing with friends and family. Without these things, I don't see much point. These are the essentials to me.
So, I press on, looking forward, shedding my old, dry skin of 2015, but remembering the lessons learned, holding on to the beauty and joy of things seen and experienced while letting go of the hurt and the disappointments and the ugliness. Here's to a Happy, Prosperous, Adventurous, Interesting Renewal in 2016! Over and out…
Yesterday, I was the person I complain about. I was not very friendly. I was curt. I was kind of a bitch. That wasn't my intention. I really didn't mean it. That's not who I am…on most days.
I was anxious and stressed. I'm not even sure why. Maybe it was the dull gray sky and wet drizzly rain making everything seem smeared and fractured. Or maybe something else. Who knows? The point is I was jittery and frazzled.
The boys and I were scheduled to volunteer at Feed My Starving Children. We were glad to go and excited to give our time, but it was our first time doing this. We didn't know what to expect.
There are a lot of rules and precision and hair nets and gloves involved, understandably so, but this made my stress level go up a notch. I was there with people I did not know; stress went up another notch. I had to monitor each boy plus man my station; bump, bump, bump stress level was now soaring.
I like to follow the rules in these types of situations. I don't like to mess up. And I was really trying to focus on our tasks at hand and remember all the rules.
The other mother working with me also had two boys, but they had been there several other times and knew what they were doing. She was friendly and tried to chat with me. I answered her, but I was VERY brief, and I didn't ask her any questions in return…it's hard for me to chat and focus on a new task.
She was kind when we made mistakes or when my boys didn't realize it was their turn to dump their ingredients into the bag. I was harsher and more direct, telling my boys to "pay attention" or "focus on what you're doing" or "be careful not to spill – we don't want to waste any."
I felt my face contort into a serious, focused façade and stay that way throughout the process. I felt my muscles tense and my back begin to ache as I stiffly stood there scooping, bagging, weighing and watching my kids, answering their questions, steadying their hands and keeping their minds on their jobs.
I was relieved when it was over. My kids said they felt good about what they had done. They loved helping in a group and then hearing that we had packed a total of 52 boxes, enough to feed 31 kids for a year. They were happy and joyful. I was tired and achy and thankful to be done. And then I felt guilty to feel that way, which made me feel more anxious.
I was trying to be positive and kind when I thanked the woman who had organized this homeschool opportunity, and told her this experience was very educational; I knew I'd be lying if I told her it was fun.
I came home feeling terrible that I had given the kind woman across from me such an awful first impression of me. I'm usually the talker, as those who know me would attest to, but I just didn't have it in me yesterday.
Do you ever have days like this? These dark days leading up to winter are always the hardest for me, but truthfully it can happen on any day in any season. I hate days like this. It's not me. And yet, I am reminded of My Many Colored Days by Dr. Seuss when I feel this way.
Some days are bright and yellow and some are dark and black and others are happy pink days, but in the end we go back to being ourselves.
So, to the friendly lady, I'm sorry you met me on a dreary gray day. I hope we meet again on a bright and buzzy day. Here's to a better rest of the week. Over and out…
First, plan a date and destination with your friend and put it on your calendar. Now, get sick and reschedule that trip and go to the doctor for antibiotics instead.
On rescheduled date, check website for info and discover planned-on destination is closed on that day of the week. Scramble to pick another destination to explore.
Pack a lunch and snacks and bottles of water and 5 kids and 2 moms into a minivan.
Forget to get gas until on the road…oh, and always pick the scenic route over the interstate.
After getting gas, spot a cute park down the block. Realizing it's now already lunch time and passengers are getting antsy, pull over to play and eat lunch at cute park.
Once kids are spinning and climbing and howling like wolves next to the faux stone outcropping, check map on phone and discover that the ice cream spot you've been going to try for the last two summers is just 2 blocks away.
Corral kids back into car for 2 block drive to Nelson's Ice Cream.
Note at door that only cash is accepted. Quickly count out all bills and coins to be found in your wallets and bottom of purses to be sure there is enough to cover 7 ice cream orders….kid size, please {the scoops are HUGE…REALLY!}.
Sit outside (the only seating at this joint) with others who have discovered this ice cream paradise and enjoy the cold, sweet cream and the warm, beautiful day.
Again, attempt the mere hour drive to decided-on destination….but realize you just fed a large cup of ice cream to each of the 5 kiddos in the back…find place to stop and explore and burn energy!
Pull over at Marine on St. Croix {as if you have a choice, the charm of this tiny village will draw you in like a magnet}. One storefront sign catches the eye of these harried moms….Chocolate & Wine…. Alas, that will have to be another trip… Find a historical marker detailing the first mill on the St. Croix River and follow the trail and signs. Spot an old log cabin and peek in the windows…try to convince the 3 year old that large doll in the crib is NOT a dead baby…make a bathroom stop before getting back in the car…maybe the General Store has a bathroom….no, the bank…no, try the bar….bingo…
Again, head toward destination.
Finally, arrive at target destination…it should have taken only an hour to get here, and yet, it has taken three hours….Franconia Sculpture Garden!
Let the kids get out and run and play and explore. While they can't climb and slide and shimmy up and down and all around (and in one kid's case, rip the backend of her pants out) on all the sculptures, there are quite a few they can.
Franconia is on a huge piece of land with forests and prairies and lawns and bathrooms and a fridge of cold bottles of water for a $1 donation.
I didn't expect the kids to enjoy it as much as they did, but we were glad they had so much fun. They climbed and played and slid and swung from the beautifully created play structure, they climbed up and slid down and crawled inside a rooftop and stood atop a concrete mound and climbed a tall ladder to a lookout and went inside a "dog house" and added to the art with the provided chalk and got up in the treehouse in the woods and played and created and imagined and pretended and observed and got dirty and soaked in the beautiful day and the smells of the country.
And after three and a half hours of playing and imagining and observing, leave hungry, tired, dirty and happy.
Soldier on…6 miles…to Taylors Falls and find The Drive-In. It's the most adorable little drive-in you can think of, inhabited by the kindest and most helpful wait staff you can imagine. They make their own root beer daily and the burgers are fresh and juicy and delicious. Next door to The Drive-In is the most adorable little mini golf course. All of it is so idyllic and immaculate and classically cute that one can almost believe she's stepped back in time to the 1950s.
Get back into the car and head home in the dark happy, tired, dirty and full of caramel-ly root beer and burgers. The trip back home will take only 1 hour and 8 minutes. Wipe down kids and put them into bed!
Of course, we didn't have time for the mini golf or the unique pot holes and cliffs at the state park along the river in Taylors Falls, but that will have to wait until another day trip.
I love mini trips filled with fun and adventure and exploring and the little surprise findings all done in a day. No packing, besides a picnic lunch and a few snacks, and no hotel expenses necessary. Sometimes they're planned and sometimes they're totally impromptu, but either way they're always memorable experiences.
This summer I started leaving towels and bug spray and sunscreen and blankets and hats and my ever-trusty Norwex cloths and a first aid kit and water toys in the back of my minivan for any planned or unplanned day trips or picnics or walks or swims. We have used these items over and over, and it's been really convenient to have these things already in the car. Now, I just have to think about packing snacks and lunch or dinner and drinks and perhaps some sweatshirts or swim suits to add to the mix.
All this stuff came in handy when we made an unplanned day trip to Duluth recently and when we met friends at a park with a creek just 15 minutes from our house.
This summer we've been on the go more than ever before. Now that my kids are 9 and almost 7 it's easier to pick up and go find places to explore. I've loved this summer of 2015 full of fun and friends and big and little excursions.
What adventures are in store for your next day trip? Over and out…
This year my prayer is a bit different….this year I'm the teacher for both my kids…and there's a lot to pray for!
Dear Lord,
My prayer this year is for me and the boys.
I pray for peace in our hearts, in our thoughts and in our words to one another.
I pray for clarity in my words of instruction and in their comprehension of the lessons they are learning.
I pray for confidence in myself as a teacher and in their attitudes in regards to new challenges.
I pray for patience with myself and with my boys, and that they also have patience with me and with themselves and with each other, as this is all new to all of us.
I pray for the opportunity of adventure in our studies and in our travels.
I pray for the fortitude and focus to get everything accomplished that I need to each day in order to teach my children, do my work and manage our home.
I pray for guidance in knowing when to gently push and when to back off and which direction to go and how to approach different lessons and how to best teach my interesting, quirky, smart, energetic kiddos.
I pray for inspiration and insight in all challenges this year.
I pray for all the teachers and administrators and coaches who teach and guide and love and support and discipline and help to raise and shape all the dear children that they may have the tools and patience and clarity and heart to do their best.
I pray for all the boys and girls starting school that they may have open minds and focus and confidence and kind and loving hearts.
I have abiding faith in Your love and support and guiding hand, and in Your Name, I pray.
Amen.
I know our year will be full of surprises and will be challenging, rewarding, exhausting, energizing, stressful, relaxing and a gillion other things, and we're ready to jump in and get started.
I know we can do this because "I can do all things through Him who strengthens me." Philippians 4:13
May you and your kids have a wonderful school year whether in homeschool or public schools or private schools. Over and out…
My minivan has a spot on the back right fender that's rusted; it's a small spot and if you look closely you can see that the finish was gashed some years ago, exposing the metal and then becoming rusted.
My kids know what caused this small gash in our minivan. They can tell you the story.
Years ago, probably 4 or 5 years back, my boys and I had decided to go to Gigi's café in south Minneapolis for a bite to eat. The parking is on the street. At the eastern end of that block there is a house.
On that particular day a man was mowing that house's lawn. I parked there next to the side of the front yard. As I opened my door to get out and go around to the right side of the vehicle to get my toddlers out, I heard the loud ping of something smacking my car hard. When I went to investigate I saw the small gash and realized that the mower…now near that side of the car…had thrown a small rock at my car.
I was irritated by the mark on my car, but I kept thinking that if it had been a few minutes later that rock very easily could have hit my little boys in the face or eye or back of the head or arm and done some real damage.
We don't go to Gigi's as often as we did when the boys were little, but we stopped there yesterday for an after school treat and I showed them exactly where I had been parked. They were very interested to see this exact location and to go through the story again.
It's funny that the boys know this story so well. It's meaningless in the scheme of things. It won't change anything or teach them anything, but they will remember it and know it as a story from their childhood and retell it to their kids, perhaps as a cautionary tale or a matter-of-fact story from something long ago.
I know I have stories like this from my childhood that float around my head. Why do I remember these specific instances or items or places or stories or tastes or smells? What do they mean? …. Maybe nothing at all like this story about how our minivan got a little rusty gash.
My kids love stories like this though. They also love stories with more meaning to them. The stories of their births and infancies and firsts and how our pets reacted to the new babies coming home and stories from our childhoods and about our siblings or our parents or our grandparents are especially interesting to them.
The stories we tell give them foundation. The stories we tell give them something to relate to. The stories we tell give them stories to tell.
One of my favorite stories growing up was about my mom and how one Christmas season when she was a young girl at home alone after school she had unwrapped and re-wrapped every gift under the tree…not just those with her name on them, but all of them. She was caught when she said something like, "This feels like a red sweater."
I always loved to shake and feel gifts to see if I could figure out what was under the paper…these were the good 'ol days before gift bags. And I was told over and over this story about my mother. And now it's one we tell the boys. And we all laugh about it.
Sometimes the mundane becomes a great story. Perhaps over time they are exaggerated or embellished or maybe not…maybe simple is better for some stories.
These stories give us heritage and shines a light on who we are and who and where we come from. Even those silly, meaningless, completely ordinary stories.
So tell your stories to your kids and spouses. Laugh or cry or roll your eyes and shake your head at your stories. And help your kids tell their stories. All our stories are important. Over and out…
I forget to check their finger nails for trimming.
I yell at my kids, on occasion.
They have way too much screen time.
Bedtimes vary.
I let them eat Happy Meals from time to time.
Sometimes I cuss in front of my kids.
My kids are not self-sufficient.
I have melt downs almost as often as they do.
I sometimes give in when I shouldn't.
I don't always want to spend time with my kids.
Sometimes I just want them to be silent….whatever happened to kids should be seen and not heard anyway…
The point is I'm not perfect…not even close. But I ask you, who is?
I love my kids and try my best to be there for them, teach them about the world, have fun, and raise them to do right, be happy and really live life. And that has to be enough.
I am flawed and so are they. We will all learn from our mistakes {together}, and hopefully, be stronger for them.
As a parent, much of the job description involves failure. Failure is inevitable, but it's also key to success. Failure means that we're trying; we're putting our necks out there; we're venturing beyond our front doors; we're giving it a shot; we're daring to do something new. We may not always get it right the first or third or tenth or fiftieth time, but we're trying. We're working out the kinks and we're going to get it right sooner or later.
Some days are wins. And some days are losses. But it matters not because regardless of the record from the day or week or month before it's our job as parents to get up and get out there and try, try again each and every day. It's exhausting, but they say parenthood is also rewarding…at some point…
And eventually, with a little love and patience and faith and a smidge of luck, those wins will outnumber the failures. They have to, right?
Well, here's to a week of patience and quiet breaks and good moods and a smidge of luck and lots of getting it right the first time. Over and out…
OK….So, maybe I'm exaggerating a bit when it comes to saving the world, but still, hear me out.
Plastic is a big problem for our Earth. As in, it takes years and years and years and years to break down. Some sources say it may takes plastic containers, bottles and bags 100s or even 1000s of years to break down. The truth is, we don't actually know how long it will take. Plastic bags have been around only 50 years….and they're all still piling up in landfills, etc.
So, our family has been trying our darndest to greatly reduce the amount of plastic we use. I know what you're thinking, "Your one little family not using so much plastic isn't going to save the world or make any great impact." And you're right. That's why each of us should be doing our part in "saving the world" whether it's reducing plastic usage, using fewer or no harmful chemicals in our homes, reducing our overall all carbon footprints, etc.
And did you know if you used just 3 reusable produce bags a week, you'd reduce your plastic bag usage by 150 in just one year? And did you further know that the average family goes through about 500 plastic baggies a year just for school and work lunches?
The way I see it is that if we choose to do things that reduce the waste and the harmful chemicals released into our air and leave our world a purer place for our kids and their kids or at the very least slow the damage to our planet and our people, then it's worth it.
And really these 5 things are EASY…there's just one I have trouble with….
Norwex Snack Bags/Sandwich Wraps. We NEVER send plastic baggies in school lunches. We also opt for reusable spoons and forks and travel sized enviro cloths for lunch napkins for waste free lunches. These bags are also great for small toys, crayons, pacifiers, etc. even makeup or nail files and polishes, etc., etc.
Reusable Bags for Shopping. Here's the one I have trouble with. I have them in my car, and I usually remember to take them in at Trader Joe's and my co-op, but often forget them when running into Target or a clothing store or shoe store, etc. I'm working on this one. And when I forget I do take my plastic bags to Target to recycle….I hope they actually recycle them!
Norwex Mesh Produce Bags. I use these at the grocery stores for fruits and veggies and for picking tomatoes and peppers in our garden – we have had a huge tomato crop and these bags are great for this job. My son even took one to school to store his headphones in. I use one in the freezer for the bananas that go mushy before they are eaten and get used in muffins, breads and pancakes. They are also great for washing grapes so that you don't lose them down the drain or for washing and/or storing Legos bath toys or Barbies and so many other things!
Compostable Trash Bags. I feel good about using these. I found 2 different brands at Lakewinds Co-op. They aren't too pricey and there are several sizes, depending on your needs. We have found them to be pretty strong and to work well.
Norwex Stainless Steel Straws. Think about how many millions of straws are tossed out each day….staggering isn't it? Well, if you use them in your own home or often stop for a carbonated beverage or shake or smoothie, then these stainless steel straws will serve you well. There's even a handy brush to clean them well! Again, I am working out a system to keep them in my car and remember to grab these and not the plastic version when we stop for a refreshing drink. My boys love to use them with milk.
OK, OK….I actually have 7 points for you, not 5….
Silicone Lids. I have been using these for about a year or so now. Norwex just launched a version too – work just the same and they are fantastic! The lids are safe for stovetops, ovens, microwaves and the fridge. There are so many reasons to love them. I don't even use metal lids for my pots now. The silicone lids make perfect rice, make the pasta water boil faster, keep food warm and still good for hours, steams veggies to perfection, keep baked good fresh and moist AND no more plastic wrap! Plus fewer dishes to wash since you can go from stove to fridge in the same container. Oh, and they don't stain or retain odor.
Beeswax & Cloth Wrap. I found this at my Lakewinds Co-op too, and they are great! They come in several sizes and even a variety pack. I use them to wrap cheese, bread, fruits, veggies, whatever and, again, NO PLASTIC WRAP or BAGGIES! You simply rinse it with cool water and dry it off and then wrap up the food. The warmth of your hand will mold and seal the beeswax and cloth wrap.
And this is what we're doing, along with removing all harmful chemicals from our home and recycling tons of plastic, paper and glass. Of course, there are always more things we can do…and we will. What are you focusing on changing in your home? Over and out….
Anna
**Full Disclosure: one of the many hats I wear is that of Norwex Independent Sales Consultant. However, none of these products were given to me and no company sponsored this post. This is simply my opinion based on experience using these products in my home.
Isn't it funny how dreams change as we grow and age and transform?
Long ago…around 20 years ago…I could envision the grand house we'd would one day have. I thought of the fine things I'd furnish it with as I flipped through Pottery Barn catalogs and perused Southern Living Magazine and the gatherings we'd hold there in all those large and beautiful rooms. I went as far as tearing out photos from magazines and keeping a file of these bits and pieces collected. The file was titled "Our House Plans."
Alas, life had other plans. Things didn't always go as we'd planned…of course. Life has a habit of unfolding that way, as you all likely know.
Instead, we bought a little, old house and thought we'll get to that grand house next time around. And yet, 11 years later we're still in that little, old house and it's filled with kids and pets and our old, but treasured furniture and art and collected and passed-down items.
Our dreams are now focused on adventures with our kids and present and future educational goals for them and small and large projects to revamp and remodel and patch up our little, old house.
Gone are the days that I envision that grand house with lots of rooms and fine woodwork and a huge beautiful kitchen. Gone are the days that I fill that file with pages from magazines. Gone are the days that I wish to spend small fortunes on fine pieces of furniture and art.
And you know what? I'm fine with this. I am not the same person. I still dream, but my dreams have changed, along with my curves and the shade of my dark, but ever-graying hair and the thoughts that occupy my brain.
Now, I delight in a bargain. I get excited about a great free find on Craigslist. I take pride in my re-dos and repurposes. I like my little, old house in my quiet little neighborhood filled with little, old houses.
After a recent Craigslist run, my husband said to me, "You didn't used to be like this." Not that he was complaining that I scored us a great piece for free, although my son did say to me, "Mom, you really need to stop this habit. You don't need to have everything all the time." Hmmmm, sounds like a familiar speech….
Ah, to life as it unfolds, big or small or somewhere in between. Be thankful, be hopeful, be creative and never stop dreaming. Over and out…
When I was a child, I knew summer was over when I slid on a new pair of jeans and felt the confining, new, stiff denim against my legs. I can still remember that feeling. I lived my summers in shorts and swimsuits and jeans meant back-to-school shopping and that was a sure sign that the freedom of summer was coming to a close.
As a mom with kids in school, the end of summer is always bittersweet. It means freedom….for me. It means time to be alone in my thoughts. It means time to work without interruption. It means seeing other moms from school and more socializing. And I rejoice in having time for these things. But it also means schedules and structured bedtimes and wake up times and homework and fewer adventures with my boys. And these things make me miss the freedom of summer.
And yet, as we arrive in late August, I have turned the corner and I'm ready to slip into those long, confining back-to-school jeans. You know it's time for school to begin when the boys fight over everything and you feel like you need a break within 10 minutes of starting your day. And, folks, we are there.
The school clothes and shoes are bought; the school supplies are checked off the list and now stand ready, waiting for school to begin; school lunch menu lists are made; backpacks and lunch boxes once again occupy hooks by the backdoor; and first day breakfast requests have been submitted. We are ready.
Of course, this year means a new school and new friends and new everything for one son. For the other son, this year will be his first year of "real" school, after years of preschool. This year is the year of starting fresh and new and will be filled with lots of learning.
Each August, I write out my prayer for the coming school year. All the newness and learning this year means that I will need to be equipped with gargantuan amounts of peace and patience and empathy every single day. And this is my prayer for my family and all the teachers and administrators we come in contact with this year:
Dear Lord,
Grant us Peace.
Peace that will give us the fortitude to weather the storms of tears and frustration that come with steep learning curves. Peace that will allow us to let go of the things we can't change.
Grant us Patience.
Patience that will allow us to slow down and take deep breathes as we tackle these challenges.
Patience with ourselves and with others.
Grant us Empathy.
Empathy that will give us insight before we speak or lash out and allow us to see things from each other's points of view.
Empathy that helps us lift each other up and not drag each other down.
I ask these things in God's name and will continue to throughout the school year.
Amen.
Ready or not, school starts next week for one and the following week for the other. What is your prayer for the coming school year? Over and out…
It seems to have happened overnight, but no one warned me it would happen. It must have been a slow, gradual, incremental change; one that comes about so slowly that you are sure to be slapped upside the head when it shows one day, but it seemed to happen so quickly.
I've never been one to dwell on the past much. I just keep moving forward; looking on to each new phase, but this shift caught me off guard.
In July, I went to bed having a little 7 year-old son and woke up with a big 8 year-old son.
I look at him and am amazed at how lean and lanky his body seems. His feet almost as large as mine. His jaw and chin are so angular. His cheekbones more prominent. Not so very long ago his face and body were rounder, softer, younger.
Words have always been his strength, but even here there is a pronounced change. He speaks with more experience and confidence when explaining something to me. He asks deeper, more complicated questions. He uses sarcasm and wit with flawless precision and understands when it's being used on him.
The first few weeks of 8 have caught me by surprise. I catch myself gazing in wonderment at this child, trying to put my finger on all the tiny changes that made such a difference.
My little boy is still in there in ways. I can still see him and hear him at times, but soon all traces of that boy will be gone, and my son will be 14 and counting the days until he gets his license and beginning to consider college choices and a getting summer job. And again, I will gaze in wonderment and think, "how did we get here?"
I wonder what the rest of this year will bring for my bright and special boy; the child who made me a mom; the child who is so like me; the child who is so different from me. Over and out…
When I first began coming to Surfside Beach, Texas, with my soon-to-be husband's maternal family, there were a lot of rules. These rules had been in place for several generations at this point. The rules were really more of an enforced schedule.
We all got up to eat breakfast, regardless of whether you wanted to eat breakfast; we all went down to the beach in the morning after breakfast, set up the tent and brought down the beach gear; we all came up for lunch, an assembly line of sandwich makings; we all rested a bit and then went down again to the beach, then a bit before dinner, took down the tent, carried up the beach gear and got showered and ready for dinner. Oh, and we were each supposed to make our bed every morning.
The first year I came, in 1997, I didn't completely understand these rules…I got up for breakfast (after being instructed to do so by my (then) boyfriend/ (now) husband, but I just sat there while others ate, then I went back to bed. I also volunteered to make a meal, up to this point only the moms (my soon-to-be mother-in-law and her sister) had cooked meals and before them, their mother and aunts. And I insisted on going on a search for fresh shrimp to fry up, using my mom's recipe…this was not a meal they had traditionally prepared in the 25 or so years they had been coming to Surfside.
I didn't mean to buck the system; it just came naturally to me.
Well, over the years, all the cousins got married and had kids. Our systems and schedules and rules began to change. Each family took a night to cook; some years not everyone could make it; then it was every other year and then not at all.
I hated this. I love the tradition, and I have always loved the Texas Gulf Coast (as ugly as it may be to some). Many of my favorite childhood memories reside along these shores.
So, last year we re-started the Surfside tradition with some of the family, and this year, more of the family is coming…only these days, there are not so many rules… I'm hoping my mother-in-law can dig it.
Here are our basic rules:
Clean up your own messes: dishes/towels/clothes, etc.;
Put on sunscreen and more than likely bug spray over that (several times a day);
Hose off before going upstairs to the house and leave your flip flops by the door;
Sleep until you want to get up; and
Have fun!
Our dining room table may or may not be a Lego/NASA staging area…I'm just sayin'… Breakfast is optional and up to each person and making our beds....yeah, that doesn't happen!
The point is, we are relaxed about things and are enjoying sitting on the deck with a drink or watching a movie late into the night with the kiddos still up, all huddled onto the couch. It's our vacation, after all. Over and out…
Perhaps I'm feeling a bit nostalgic….but here goes anyway…
Dear Toyota,
Thank you.
I know many people are embarrassed or have mixed feelings about having gone through the minivan-buying rite of passage, but I don't feel that way about it. For me, it coincided with becoming a parent, and that I'm very proud of. July 3rd will mark our 8th year of having our 2006 Toyota Sienna minivan and July 11th marks the 8th birthday of our first child.
It may sound silly, but that vehicle is an integral part of our family. In fact, a number of significant firsts have occurred in that vehicle. Eight days after making this big purchase, we drove to the hospital through contraction after contraction in our brand new mini. A few days later we strapped our teeny baby into a car seat, got in and drove away from the hospital and into our brand new lives. One week later, we drove to the airport to pick up my mom; she met her very first grandchild there in the middle row of the mini.
Two years later, we drove away from that same hospital with a toddler and another brand new baby strapped into the seats behind us.
We have gone on countless adventures, both near and far, in that vehicle. We've picked up friends and family and luggage from the airport for family reunions and baptisms and birthdays and random visits.
My mom, two aunts, two sons, my old Leonberger, my husband and I once all piled in and took a day trip to Duluth; that was quite an adventure. A few years ago, we drove from the Twin Cities across the state of Wisconsin with the kids and our old giant dog to meet and take home our new giant, a rescued St. Bernard. We take an annual road trip from Minnesota to Texas to see family and friends every summer, with our mini stuffed full of things for stops along the way, at a lake and at the beach.
We've weathered wind, rain, snow and ice in our mini. We feel secure and safe in our vehicle. We trust that we can always pack in everything we need for a trip, a CraigsList run or after a visit to IKEA; and my son's giant hockey bag fits perfectly.
Our mini is more than a mode of transportation; it's our mode of living. It gets us where we need to be.
Yes, it's not so progressive of me to rely on a gas fueled vehicle made by a foreign company, I know. But it's true. We rely on this vehicle every single day.
It's marked with crayons and juice stains and a dent in the rear fender from that time I backed into a pole in a parking garage. There's a hole rubbed into the driver's seat floor mat from where our heels rest. The middle console is filled with snippets of papers with long forgotten notes, an applesauce pouch, a granola bar, some sticky coins, several napkins, a spoon from Dairy Queen, a Norwex cloth or two, and a collection of pens, pencils and crayons from a restaurant.
In the "way back", there's a bag of soccer balls, a bat and glove and a couple of reusable shopping bags and a couple of bag chairs, a sign of summer. The "way back" assortment changes seasonally.
This vehicle holds our lives in it, daily… both figuratively and literally. And for that, Toyota, I thank you for our reliable vehicle from which we conduct our lives.
We joke that this will be our son's first car. They age together, year after year, and as a family that is more concerned with functionality than appearances when it comes to our vehicles {and hopefully other things in our lives too}, it really might be his first car at the age of 16. My parents are still driving their 18 year old Toyota…
How do you measure parental success? Do you use a scale? Or perhaps a ruler or yardstick? Or maybe it's figured with a complicated mathematical equation? Or is there a panel discussion involved and averaging of the scores? Is it by hours spent playing or sitting at ball games or volunteering at school or reading books? How do you measure such a thing?
A friend had posted on Facebook asking fellow parents how they measure success. I didn't respond. I didn't read the comments, but I thought about this question.
I realized that I don't measure. And I don't think this is something that can be measured…at least not until my children have grown into adults….and maybe not until they have had children and careers and lived their lives all the way through. And I don't think it's for me to measure.
My children will likely do some measuring of my parental skills as they grow from elementary school to middle school to high school to college and on and on. I'm sure they will have lots of data to put a measuring stick to and determine my success or failure as a parent…and I'm sure they will be happy to fill me in on their observations and conclusions too.
Others, my husband/their father, strangers, family members, friends, teachers, etc. have more than likely already calculated my parental success to failure ratio and will continue to over the years.
I have some days that I am a first-rate parent. And then there are other days that I most certainly deserve an F. Most days are mediocre, averaging somewhere in the C+ to C- range, I suppose. There are some days that my kids do or say things that make me swell with pride in how they are turning out. Of course, there are other days I feel sure I have utterly failed in teaching even the most basic skills in life.
I am certain that one cannot measure one's success in parenting based on one day or one hour or one week or even 1 year or 8 years, for that matter. One will not have enough data to figure an accurate score, if one is looking at only a particular window in time.
No, I am sure that this type of measurement can't be taken…not if you want a true report.
Instead, I think what I, as a parent, must concentrate on is teaching by example to be loving, kind, just, generous, faithful, fun, determined, passionate, strong, steadfast and happy. And then, time will tell what kind of job I have done as a parent.
I do know this though...I try my darndest to be the glitter and the glue for my family. The glue holds everything together and the glitter adds sparkle and magic to the world around us, even when things are bleak or plain or ugly. Everything is always better with glitter and glue. Over and out…
And I think this applies to parents and children too.
Over the years, since becoming a mom, I've traveled for work some and gone on a trip with girlfriends once or twice and left alone with my husband once.
I'm always glad to get back home, of course. But I do not miss my children when I am away. I chat with them on the phone for a few minutes each day I'm gone. I may pick up a memento or snap a photo for them, but I do not miss them.
I need space and quiet and alone time to be a good {enough} parent. My brain craves the silence that only separation from one's child can give. No thinking through schedules or answering of obscure questions of the universe or settling arguments or preparing meals or disciplining or consoling or shushing video game noises or checking on the crashes and bangs and yelling and no chaos. Just silence.
I can turn off that part of my brain. I can tune out the chaos of others around me.
I don't consider myself to be a complete introvert. I can be loud and outspoken and social and enjoy being a part of a group, but then I need a time and place to withdraw and step into my own head and simply be. And that's what I have enjoyed about these times without my children.
After these times away, I go home ready for the noise, the messes, the questions, the incessant talking, the laughter, the fun, the brotherly fighting. I can enjoy being with my kids.
I love my kids and would do anything for them, but I recognize this fact about myself: from time to time, I need space, even if it's just for a few hours.
You may not see things this way, but if you do, enjoy those moments, hours, days, whatever time you get alone away from your chaos, and don't feel guilty about it. It's OK for you to need space and it's good for you to take time away from your kids; for you and for them.
Some thrive on loud and crazy and bright. Others need quiet and calm and solitude. Still others move back and forth between these two worlds. Parents don't get to choose which type they are and which world they live in with their kiddos. Parents are simply on all day, all night, day after day, week after week, year after year.
So, if you're like me, take a break when and where you can get it, relish it and then tuck it away in your cap for a moment when you think you just can't take another round of "Why Trivia" or "Sibling Squabbles" or "What's for Dinner, Mom?" or "I'm bored" and let the memory of that calm and quiet soak in and surround you before you return to your reality.
{This is particularly important for me to remember as we embark on the summer months of long day and long nights.}