Hanging By a Thread

Motherly Advice: Summer, Late Dinners and Raising Kids

Sometimes we eat dinner at 9 p.m….because we had a fun day out at the arboretum and came in late, because when we got home the kids ran over to the neighbors to play, because when I was picking basil from the garden to make pesto for dinner we were invited over to the neighbor's backyard for a "play" that the 8 neighborhood kids had created, because after the "play" we stood around talking to our neighbors while the kids played soccer and rode bikes, because it takes a little time to make pesto and boil water for pasta and roast tomatoes and because it's summer and dinner at 9 p.m. is fine.

And sometimes there's a whole other set of reasons, but it's always better to eat dinner late rather than miss out on the spontaneity of life.

This is what I love about summer and what I loved about those years before my kids went to school and what I'll love about homeschooling my kids.

It's ok to have a meal later than "meal time" (not that we have a designated meal time) and it's ok to stop everything and explore something or play longer or do nothing for a while or change gears or sit and watch a cicada make its way across the yard to the tree to latch on and bust out of its shell…we did this earlier in the afternoon before going to the arboretum, which is why we got to the arboretum later than planned and then stayed longer than planned, which in turn, eventually, caused our dinner to be ready at 9 p.m.

I have made parental blunders and had errors in judgment and been inconsistent when I should have been consistent, but I never felt compelled to follow the "parenting rules" set in place by "experts." We have done things our own way from the beginning, forging ahead, doing the best we can with who we are and who our children are.

We aren't always perfect….more like, we aren't ever perfect…but we live and learn and love together and we NEVER stress over what others think of our parenting or how others do things. It matters not.

People have different personalities, schedules, budgets, experiences and backgrounds. We all tick in different ways. So, naturally, that means we will parent differently from each other. We must remember this.

What matters is being respectful of other parents and how they do things and the rules they make for their families and raising your kids with the values and rules and love and experiences that are important to you. So, if this means sometimes dinner is later than usual, whatever usual means, so be it.

Over and out…

Anna

Motherly Advice {Failing is Part of Winning}

I don't always remind my kids to floss.

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…

Anna

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Sometimes a Little, Old House Is All You Need {Life}

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…

Anna

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What a Mom Does {Mother’s Day}

At mass on Easter Sunday, in front of us, there was a little girl of about four years old who had fallen asleep with her head on her mom's lap. When it was time for communion her mother gently lifted her up and whispered to her that she could stay there. As she slowly made her way up the aisle, I saw this mom turn and look back at her groggy daughter sitting there in front of me.

The mother's face was bright with a smile; a smile that was warm and comfortable; a smile that said, "all is well, all is safe"; a beacon in the dark. In that line of backs, there was the mom's sweet face shining forth. As a mom, I knew that smile and understood the gesture.

And in that instant, I realized this is what it means to be a mom.

It's that smile that shines reassuringly even when she is nervous or uncertain, but doesn't want her child to know. It's the bright face that peeks around other parents, up on tip toes to be sure her child can see her face during the school choir concert. It's the face that blinks back tears and smiles as big as she can on the first day of kindergarten. It's always sitting in the same place in the stands, beaming back with a big thumbs up when her kid skates out onto the ice. It's the gentle squeeze of the hand held tightly on the way into the doctor's office. It's standing a little longer and clapping a little harder at the competition, the play, the game, the recital, so as be to sure to be seen by the child on the field or court or the rink or the stage or  the risers.

It's always being there. It's lighting the way. It's comforting from afar. It's communicating with just a look. It's being connected with invisible lines. It's letting go without ever letting go. It's encouraging. It's empowering. It's never giving up. It's trusting, It's heartbreaking. It's what a mother does.

To all the mothers out there, Happy Mother's Day. Our title sometimes sounds like nothing more than maid, cook, chauffeur, teacher and laundress, but we know the truth. Enjoy the day! Over and out…

Anna

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Motherly Advice: {Fridays & Family Traditions}

I had a friend who years ago, before either of us were married or had kids, always said that when she did have kids they would eat ice cream for dinner on Fridays. We laughed about it, but I think she was serious. Sadly, she never had that chance. She died last summer after a long illness, having never had kids.

I think of her often and of that conversation. I think it's odd considering all the topics of all the conversations we had that it's one about Friday night dinners that pops into my mind so frequently.

Family was important to her; hers was a very small one. And she loved to laugh and have fun, after dealing with the hard parts of work and studies. So, it made sense to end the work week with fun with the kids {she might one day have}.

So, on Friday nights with my family I think of her and that conversation. We don't eat ice cream for dinner, but we do eat pizza, take-out or homemade, {Gluten Free, of course, but we aren't missing out} and veg out with our aptly coined Family Movie Night.

We have a picnic in our {so-called master} bedroom {the room where our TV is}, and we pile into our big bed and sometimes make a bed on the floor too for a slumber party and watch movie after movie until all four of us are asleep. Sometimes we watch new movies and sometimes it's old favorites and sometimes it's a bit of both.

It's a much loved tradition of the boys. My younger son will often ask, "Is tonight family movie night?" each night of the week leading up Friday.

As I have well established, I am not structured and rarely stick to schedules, but this is something that I love to do. We are all tuned in, all in the same room and enjoying our tradition. Of course, we don't do this every Friday, but we do try to find several Fridays each month to mark our calendar for Family Movie Night. It's our tradition.

Over the years, I have written a number of posts on traditions. I may not love structured schedules, but I do love the ritual of traditions. I love how my boys look forward to our seasonal or holiday or family traditions. I love to hear them talk about our traditions. I love that they will have those fun, adventurous, family memories for always.

Traditions are important. Traditions create unity and encourage adventure and strengthen relationships and are kind of like an insider's secret. They don't have to be expensive or extravagant. They can be as simple as eating ice cream for dinner on Friday nights.

Here to Fridays and family traditions. What's your Friday night tradition? Over and out…

Anna

Don’t Worry; Be Happy? {Living a Full Life of Feeling}

If you were to read all 720 some odd posts on this blog from beginning to end, you'd be in for a roller coaster ride of emotions. There are highs and lows and in-betweens at all levels and happy and sad and giddy and silly and witty and sassy and angry and contemplative and heartbroken and wistful and inspiring posts.

You'll find a full array of moods and attitudes, but you won't find an always sunny, happy glow here. I favor being genuine and keepin' it real. I don't gloss over things.

But I don't think we have to be happy every moment of every day. I think that there are sometimes that we are low and sad and reflective; some days we are angry and full of energy and movement; other days we are quiet and reserved, neither happy nor sad; and some days we are happy.

It's my philosophy that this is life.

And yet, it seems to me that everywhere I look there are blogs and books and articles and discussions on how to be happy or happier or find happiness in every single day and event and situation.

I just don't think it works that way.

Searching for happiness that lasts forever, renewing each morning, is just another example of instant gratification in our gimme this and gimme that and GIVE IT TO ME NOW society.

I think that life is a work {of art} in progress. Each experience and emotion and relationship weaves new colors and patterns into the piece that will slowly be revealed as one's life is played out.

Yes, how we respond and react and what we make of our days does shape our moods and attitudes about life in general, but we don't have to be happy in all we do all the time.

Happiness is fleeting. Happiness is elusive. One can have a deep sense of joy and satisfaction, which runs much deeper, without feeling happy.

If we were all happy every day we'd be living in a Brave New World type of utopia where we all popped pills throughout the day to keep our drug-induced euphoria from breakfast through late-night cocktails. Is that where our society is headed?

Life is simply not all butterflies and rainbows.

The dark times are hard, but they are a time of work and progress. We would not be who we are without the ups and downs and spins and whirls.

So, if you're concerned that you aren't as "happy" as some who are peddling a quick trip to Happy in articles, books and blogs, don't worry; it will just make you feel worse. But DO suck the marrow out of life as often as you can whether it's happy, sad, quiet, loud, thoughtful, musical, still, bouncy, joyful, bountiful, low, tight, stressful, imaginative, reflective, enlightening or indulgent or any combination of these or other emotions and experiences.

For we shall pass this way but once... Take it all in. Feel everything...the good and the bad. For that will fill your cup with the nectar of life. Over and out...

Anna

**Please note that I am not referring to clinical depression and/or treatments for this serious and real disease in any part of this article. Instead, I am merely referring to the ordinary highs and lows of human emotions.

Brothers; A Close Bond {The Glue that Binds Together or the Wedge that Breaks Apart?}

A Close Bond

My boys are 2 years and 2 months apart in age. They are not twins as they sometimes say they are. And yet, they are not so different in size. They often dress alike. They share a bedroom and often a bed. They have amazingly similar and wildly different likes and dislikes. They are protective and concerned and loving towards each other. They are overly competitive and hateful and rude and bullies towards one another. They are forever linked by their DNA, their upbringing and their tight love/hate relationship.

They are brothers.

Bad Seeds or Good Apples

Brothers have been on my mind lately.

We have begun a new tradition of reading a passage from a Children's Bible at the dinner table each evening. I recently remarked on the number of brothers who despise and kill or set out to ruin the other; something that I had failed to ponder so much before giving birth to two brothers.

I recently picked up a magazine and read an excerpt from a book about brothers. There were many interesting connections, observations and theories regarding brothers and their birth order in this article, but what struck me was the conclusion that brothers are not necessarily alike, despite similar DNA and their shared parents and experiences don't mean much; it's more about their personalities, birth order and one's perception of a shared experience, which is often quite different from that of his brother.

I saw a headline that said something to the effect of "Two Brothers become dads within minutes of one another just a few doors apart at the same hospital." The article said the brothers were best friends; they saw each other quite frequently; lived near each other and were thrilled to add this experience to a list of many others.

Then, just this past week, I read something about the Boston terrorists; the brothers. And this article outlined the number of terrorists in recent and past history that were brothers; apparently, a shared closeness, such as that of a brother, can aid in shutting out the rest of the world and help them to believe their own flawed perceptions are true and right.

Of course, those shared experiences and likenesses and differences can also create amazing, beautiful, imaginative, innovative industry, ideas, art, etc. Think of the Wright Brothers, the Coen Brothers, the Marx brothers, the Gershwin Brothers, the Rockefeller Brothers, etc.

The Scoop

Perhaps, one day people will add the Berend Brothers to such a list for a great achievement in something. Or perhaps they will grow up, split up and take up very different lives, barely seeing each other during their adulthoods.

I see their similarities and the differences. I see how they comfort each other and rile each other. I see how they take up for each other and guide each other and encourage each other through difficult tasks or feelings. I see how they taunt and compete and physically strike out at each other.

I see all these things. And I think about my two sweet, stubborn, creative, boisterous, tough, sensitive boys sound asleep tangled up together in the lower bunk and I wonder will they be close and protective and loving when they are adults; will they always need each other; will they never plot to do evil; will they always understand each other?

This mother's heart prays for a loving, peaceful, steadfast relationship for these Brothers; a relationship that does no harm to each other or their families or to strangers, but one that produces only beautiful and inspiring and inventive outcomes, whatever they may be.

Brothers; there is no other relationship quite like it. Over and out....

Anna

*Coincidentally, we have a shortage of sisters in our household.... we don't have a daughter; I have a brother, but no sisters; my dear husband has only 2 brothers; no sisters.

Motherly Advice {Celebrating Imperfection this Easter}

Pinterest Perfect

Yesterday the boys and I worked for hours on our Easter eggs. We created intricately stenciled eggs, using henna and handmade stencils; we worked to make delicate blown eggs that looked like the 12 disciples; and made our own dye from vegetables. It was such great family togetherness. We laughed, sang old gospels and helped each other. No one spilled the homemade, organic dye and the boys helped me to clean up at the end. And, of course, I captured it all on my camera to post later so that you'd all be jealous of our perfect day.

Yeah, right. Not in a million years would this ever happen in our household.

And I'll tell you what else, if someone describes a scene like this on Facebook or in a blog post or on Pinterest, I'd be apt to disbelieve that it went down that way.

Perfect Reality

This is more like it for our family, as we have yet to dye our eggs, and most likely this won't happen until Saturday evening, probably just before bedtime.

We will use the tablets of dye that come in the cheap dye kits that are full of all sorts of artificial colors. Half of the colors won't dissolve properly and a third of the brightly colored liquid will splash out on arms, clothes, the table, the rug, the dog, and the inquisitive kitten before a single egg gets dunked.

The kids will mix colors, plunking their eggs into several of the cups and bowls of color, if not all of them, ending up with bunch of grayish, purplish eggs. Our fingers will be stained to this same hue after ditching the flimsy metal "egg holder" that is about as useful as chopsticks would be in this instance.

Once the eggs are colored the boys will put stickers on their eggs; probably a mix of super heroes, Angry Birds and a variety of holidays, mostly Christmas.

Along the way, several eggs will get cracked. This, of course, will necessitate the eating of those broken eggs.

The boys will probably argue about the number of eggs, the colors of eggs, the stickers used, etc at some point. I will get frustrated with the mess and/or the arguing. More than likely, I will threaten to halt the egg decorating if the arguing doesn't stop. They'll stop fighting. And I'll be glad when it's all over.

In the end, we'll have two sets of grayish, stickered, slightly dented and cracked eggs to put in their soccer ball patterned Easter baskets filled with paper grass.

Somebody get the camera, this might be Pinterest worthy!

The Scoop

May your Easter be an imperfect and glorious celebration of love, life and redemption. Over and out...

Anna

 

Motherly Advice {Risky Business}

I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul.

~from Invictus by William Earnest Henley

There was a time I took more risks; risks that were trivial. You know, the kind of risk you take when you're 20 and think you know more than you do. For example, I once got into my car the morning after a Texas Panhandle snow storm and headed back to college from my parent's house {because I couldn't wait one more day to see my boyfriend again - you know him as my husband, Will}. I was sure the roads would be clear and I'd be fine. I was wrong; the highway hadn't been plowed at all.

It was just me in my little Pontiac and the truckers. It took me a nerve wracking 4 hours of creeping through the thick snow to get to a point that should have taken only 2 hours; and that was just half way home. I was shaky, exhausted, scared and very focused.

There was no turning around; no alternate route; no pulling over (I couldn't even see where the shoulder was...); and this was in the days before cell phones. No one knew my progress or what conditions I was driving through or where I was.

There have been other risks that I alone or Will and I have taken that in retrospect we realize was just plain stupid. These risks were unnecessary and pointless.

I no longer take risks like that. I'd like to think that's because I'm older and wiser, but mostly it's simply because I'm a mom; and as a mom, I don't think I have the right to take pointless risks. My responsibility is to my children; my family.

Last night, there was a meeting I was planning on attending. There was a snow storm on the way. It wasn't to start until around the time I needed to head that way and the storm reports forecast heavy snow by the time I was heading home. Without traffic or bad weather it takes me 30 to 45 minutes to get there, and the meeting was in an area of the Twin Cities that I am unfamiliar.

There was pressure for me to attend this meeting. I wanted to be there, but not badly enough to take the risk. In the scheme of life this meeting was not important. I opted not to go out into the wind and cold and snow and dark. I could have gone and been fine; or I could have gone and found myself stuck in a very bad situation or worse.

I have the power of making choices that keep me and my family safe. I exercise that power. I have also learned to listen to and trust my gut instinct, and I know that I regret it when I don't. So, I made the safe choice and listened to my gut.

In life, there may be some who don't understand your choices and try to persuade you otherwise, but those people aren't necessarily wiser than you. They simply don't have the same experiences, priorities, or gut instincts as you do. Stand your ground. Do what is right for you.

This was just a meeting, but it could be job, a relationship, a big move, a financial investment, or myriad other things. Listen to your inner voice and be confident in your decision. The only thing you have to lose...is you. Over and out...

Anna

Motherly Advice {Stand Up}

Never for the sake of peace and quiet deny your convictions.

~Dag Hammarskjold, Swedish Diplomat, Economist and Author, Nobel Peace Prize Winner

Are you guilty of this? I think we all are at some time or another.

The subject of the conviction could be a religious belief, a political stance, a societal or cultural or personal issue. It could be a conviction shared by many or only you.

The point is that it's important to stand up for what you believe and for what is right, whether it's a popular stance or not. The point is not to make a lot of noise and pick a fight for the sake of attention.

This may be a fine line in some cases.

I have found that for me personally, when it's a deep conviction, standing up to bully, detractor or source of authority is a knee jerk reaction, not something I have think about.

That is not to say that I have never made a lot of noise just to make a point. I have.

I make many mistakes as a parent, but one thing I have always been purposeful about with my kids is telling them what I stand up for and why. And they understand this and expect me to be strong and tough when the situation calls for it. They should never fear voicing their convictions or defending the rights of others who are mistreated or standing tall in the face of injustice or wrongdoing.

Do you take responsibility for upholding your convictions through words and actions or quietly stand in the corner biting your tongue because you don't want to cause a scene or you fear looking like a fool or think it's not your place to say something?

My philosophy....always speak what's on your heart and you can't go wrong. Your heart won't betray you over fear; your head might, but not your heart. Over and out...

Anna

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Motherly Advice {Living Fearlessly}

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Motherly Advice {Living Fearlessly}

There is nothing to fear but fear itself.

    ~ Franklin D. Roosevelt

I held his arm as he took wobbly, but determined steps. I wondered if this was the right decision. But when I looked into his face, I knew it was.

These weren't his first steps ever, but they were his first steps wearing ice skates. About a month ago, Darling 2, my four year-old son, decided he wanted to play hockey. I offered up every other sport I could think of, but to no avail. {Hockey is rough and expensive and time-consuming, and really not what I'd like him to pursue.} Darling 2 was sure.

So, I registered him for pre-beginner skate lessons. And here we were; him standing in the middle of the rink with a handful of other pre-beginners and me standing behind the glass, praying for the best.

He stood there beaming with determination, enthusiasm and pride. And then he slipped and fell. I braced with a thumbs up and an encouraging smile as he attempted to stand again. He slipped and spun and slipped again, but then he got it and stood up. He turned and looked at me. I watched for crumbling confidence, a changed mind, waves of doubt, but what I saw made my heart swell with love and pride.

Darling 2 was resolute. He knew that learning to skate is the first step to playing hockey. He never faltered in his determination or excitement during that lesson as he followed his teachers' instructions and did what was asked of him no matter how many times he tumbled and slid down to the ice. He always got back up on his own with a smile on his face.

Now, that is living without fear. He was not worried about failing; he was not concerned about what he could not yet do; he did let others sway his opinion. He knew this was the first step to his goal.

For many, it is this fear of failure that holds us back; whether it's in our careers or personal goals or ideas or dreams or relationships. It is fear that holds our hands and whispers words of doubt and self-pity and blame into our ears.

We may call it being cautious or working out a plan or hedging our bets. We may say that once this or that happens, then we'll do it. We may blame it on finances, time or circumstances. But really those are just the seeds that fear has planted; seeds that will never take root or sprout or grow; never to be harvested. Fear knows the power it holds.

Living past fear is going for it regardless of anything else; keeping the goal in sight even when fear tries to block your vision; getting back up every time fear trips you; keeping an open mind even when fear works to distract you with petty snags; and keeping a smile on your face even when fear taunts you.

How many of us can say we live this way? Not many. But what if we all lived this way?

Now, if Darling 2 had come off that ice and told me he was wrong it was not his dream to play hockey and skating was not his thing, I'd still love him and be proud of him for trying. And he may still make this decision after learning to skate and learning the game of hockey, but at least he will have gone out there and given it a shot.

And really it's just as important to realize when something is not right; when something is no longer your goal or that your intended path has veered from this present course. But you won't have been pushed around by fear; you will be plotting your own way. Over and out...

Anna

Motherly Advice {On Aging}

Be on the alert to recognize your prime at whatever time of your life it may occur.

~Muriel Spark

It's when I'm in a conversation with a 20 something year-old and make a reference to style or a movie or ad slogan or newsworthy event from my childhood and realize this person has no idea what I'm talking about. Or while in a coffee shop, I listen in on the conversation of several 20 somethings and hear them sharing life's dilemmas and dramas and sense their {false} certainty of having already figured everything out about who they are and where they're going.

That's when I feel my age.

This is not a bad thing, but merely a gentle reminder of where I am on this path we call life.

When I hear and see interactions with younger adults it makes me smile and remember when I was where they are now; when I thought I had it all figured out; when I thought I knew where I was headed.

It turns out that with age you realize you don't have a f****** clue. All you can be sure of is where you have been. And if you're lucky, you have an inkling of where you'd like to go next.

I have found that with age comes enlightenment, acceptance and self-reflection. Of course, I have also found that with age come lots of wiry, crazy, gray hairs in this dark mane of mine; and with it questions of whether I should for the first time ever put color on my hair.

I recently saw a photo of my almost 21 year old self. There is no mistaking that it's me. I still resemble that very thin version of me in ways, but there's something dissimilar about my face too. My cheeks are still full and child-like; the angles are somehow different. And honestly, while I'd love to have that figure back, I like my features now better than my younger visage.

Upon my face now, you'll find the ups and downs of life and experience and authenticity and assurance delicately etched. It can be seen in small lines or ripples or wrinkles around my eyes, in the depth of my eyes, the firmly set jaw and lips that easily turn upwards into a smile.

I still don't have it all figured out and now accept that I may never accomplish that. But I feel optimistic and confident as I march on, gray hairs and all, for I feel, my prime has yet to be.

To me, there is no shame or disappointment in getting older and looking the part. It happens to everyone, if he or she is lucky enough to get to stick around that long. Besides, it really matters not what the numbers say, it's how you live and what you do with the days and years that truly makes a life well lived.

And um, regarding the photo, I'm sure my mom can't believe that I'd post a photo of me with no makeup, not even lipstick, with hair looking like that, still wet from the shower, but I wanted a stripped down, true photo of my aging face and hair. Over and out...

Anna

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Motherly Advice {The Gift of Love and Warmth and a Fleece Blanket}

Where we love is home – home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts.

~Oliver Wendell Holmes

If you ask my kids which Christmas gift was their favorite, I'm not sure what they would tell you. But I know which gift of theirs was my favorite.

This year I made each of my boys a fleece blanket. I wanted them to have something to cozy with whenever they feel the need for a warm, soft blanket.

Oh, it didn't take much skill or planning, and it wasn't as if I made a quilt, cutting, and pinning and sewing or whatever all goes into quilting. I don't have much skill when it comes to handmade crafts, but I figured I could handle a fleece blanket.

Darling 2 helped me pick out the pieces of fabric for each blanket; there are a surprising number of patterns of fleece to choose from. I decided to make them extra large in hopes that my big boys will still use these blankets when are extra tall. They were so excited to see the finished products.

The night before Christmas Eve, after everyone except one curious kitten had gone to bed, I spread the big pieces of fleece on the floor and went to work. I cut and tied and straightened and cut and tied and straightened for several hours, and voila I had two super soft blankets. And I was proud of what I'd done.

I spread the blankets over their new owners as they slept. And when they awoke and found them, the boys were elated. Unlike many of the gifts they received this season, they have used them just about every night {and a few movie watching days too} since they received them.

Of course, I left out all my scrap pieces for them to use in whatever creative and inspired way they came up with. And this was my favorite part of Christmas. Christmas Eve morning was full of making belts, karate kid style head bands, a parachute and more with the various pieces of fleece. Their creative juices were flowing, and they were having fun performing in their inspired outfits.

What I do know is that there are some gifts that last for years, sometimes even a lifetime; gifts that warm the soul and body; gifts that hold memories of home and mom. That gift for me was a blanket when I was 12. I still have it and still use it.

My hope is that the boys will feel the love and warmth from my heart and hands that went into making these blankets and carry that with them always. And yes, that is Hello Kitty on one side; Darling 2 was hell bent on choosing that for one of his sides, and if you have a problem with that, You
can read
this post.  Over and out...

Anna

Motherly Advice {On Faith}

Faith is a knowledge within the heart, beyond the reach of proof.

~Khalil Gibran

Faith. Faith is planning for the future even when you have enough money for only 1 more month. Faith is knowing that the sun will rise even after the darkest of nights. Faith is loving and opening up even when a high number of relationships end in heartbreak. Faith is boarding an airplane even when your mind hands you a list of a 100 reasons why you should be frightened. Faith is being the best parent you can be, flaws and all, and believing your child will grow up to be a good person, in spite of your flaws.

Faith is stepping out, plunging in, climbing up, getting out or getting in even when you can't see how it all ends. Faith is living...one day at a time...each and every day.

Faith may start out very small; a tiny wisp of smoke, but as long as you don't allow fear to cast a dark cloud above your tiny seed of Faith, it will grow and grow and take hold. The bigger Faith gets, the harder it is to crush, shrink, shatter or put out. Faith will remain and sustain us.

Do you have Faith? I think you do. Over and out...

Anna

Motherly Advice {Finding Your Way to Tomorrow}

When the world pushes you to your knees, you are in the perfect position to pray...

~ Rumi

I've had a rough week. I've been fighting a cold that seems to have taken up residence deep inside my head; I found out a friend died; I had a migraine; My kids were cranky, crabby, ungrateful little devils; I've been hurting for my sister-in-law's family as her mom battles cancer and related maladies; my dog splashed water from her bowl in the kitchen and I slipped in it and fell and bruised my knee; and all of this has pushed me down; down to my knees.

Yes, it could be worse. It could always be worse. It's all in the perspective; how it's framed, right?

There are some weeks that I could take all of these things in stride; and then there's a week like last week when that's about all I can take.

When there is hurt; when there is uncertainty; when everything is too much and too big to understand how do you process it? How do you find your way from the shadowy oblivion to the soft, shady light of the living?

I seek words of wisdom. I seek meaning in death and life. I seek solitude to think.

I ponder the past, the present and the future.

I wallow in the dark pools of sadness.

And then I resolve to get up and move forward; forward to where the light dwells.

So, I spent my week, scanning signs, headlines and Facebook posts for meaningful words and messages. I spent much time in prayer and with my scriptures and devotions. I ran, yes, people, ran on my treadmill several times. I shed tears. I slept. I played mental tapes of old memories. I laughed. I watched Lars and the Real Girl {and strangely enough, this helped}. And I kept getting up and moving forward.

Tonight, as I lay in between the two Darling, Devilish Boys for bedtime reading, I chose Lily and Her Purple Plastic Purse by Kevin Henkes as our 3^rd book. We love all of the books by this author. The boys love them because they are silly and relatable. I love them because there is always a touching sentiment hidden within the story that we all need to be reminded of on occasion.

In this book, after Lily has a disappointing day at school, her teacher writes her a note that says, "Today was difficult. Tomorrow will be better."

So, if you've had a rough week too. Get up and get out there because tomorrow will be better! Over and out...

Anna

 

 

Motherly Advice {On Setting Goals...and Reaching Them}

A goal properly set is halfway reached.

    ~Zig Zigler

Setting a goal is easy; just pick something that sounds good; perhaps write it down and be on your way; got that out of the way.

Setting a goal this way is a good way to ensure that you will repeat the setting of the same goal over and over again without ever making any progress toward accomplishing that goal.

When setting a goal that you truly intend to meet, you must first believe in the goal. You must believe that you will accomplish your aim; your heart and soul must be in this goal.

You must then break your goal down. If it's a year- long goal, break it down by months or weeks or even days; if it's a month long goal break it down into weeks, then days. Remember everything is easier to swallow one bite at a time.

This reminds me of the Shel Silverstein poem, Melinda Mae, the girl who ate a whole whale because she said she would. It took her 89 years, but she did it bite by bite and accomplished her goal.

Once your goal is set and broken down, you must take action. You must take action every single day; attacking your tasks with focus and fervor as you see your goals coming closer into sight with each step you take.

Your goal must never be far from your view. Post it on the bathroom mirror; on the fridge; on your computer; next to your bed; memorize it; make it your mantra. Your goal will become a part of your being; your actions will become your habit; and you will reach your goal....every time.

If you don't truly believe you can do it, you won't. If you don't take time to envision each step you are taking, you'll trip and tumble down. If you do nothing but write the words down; words that impress; words that promote; words that have no meaning to you, your goals are simply words, not actions, and those words are wasted.

Whether endeavoring to lose weight, get promoted, overcome an obstacle, start new career, change a pattern, learn something new or anything else, embrace your goal, believe it, cut it up into bite sized pieces and get the job done, one day at a time.

It isn't easy, but how glorious it feels to meet your goal. If for only a brief time, you feel as though you have reached the summit and there is nothing more you'd like to reach for. But then you see an even higher point with an even more beautiful vista, and you start the climb again at the very bottom, but you know wrung by wrung you will be closer, and this time you know what that rush of getting to the top feels like; so you pick up the pace and make better time. And you know you have what it takes to make it there even if you encounter bad weather or big obstacles. Over and out...

Anna

Motherly Advice {The Dot to Dot of Life}

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

    ~Robert Frost, the last stanza from The Road not Taken

I'm not sure how I feel about the idea of destiny. I think that we are the architects of our lives, based on the decisions we make, the passions we pursue and the roads we travel. And yet, there's an element of fate to life too.

An old flame recently stumbled across Motherly Law, and sent me a message after realizing a post he'd read was written by me. It has been years since we've had any conversation. It took me back to college and the road I took to get where I am today.

I realized that if it hadn't been for my former boyfriend, I doubt I would have met my husband. In high school, I made the decision to follow him to the university he had chosen the year before. I applied only there. I had no desire to go anywhere else.

Fortunately, it was a good school. It was in the city where my husband grew up. It was his choice for college too.

Eventually, the relationship that had brought me there ended and I met my husband, but if it hadn't been for a couple of friends urging me to go out with them one evening, I may not have ever spoken to this cute, skinny freshmen {I was an older, more mature sophomore at the time}.

And if it had not been for my gutsy resolve to call that cute, young {but spineless when it came to calling me} freshman, we may not have ever spoken again.

And if it had not been for all of these things, there are two little boys who would have never existed.

Life is full of "if it hadn't been for this, then this would or would not have happened" kinds of circumstances. So, are we predestined to be or go or do certain things? Can you escape your destiny by making different choices?

This reminds me of a conversation my brother and I once had. These kinds of questions lead to more questions and each answer leads you to the original question; it's like spinning in circles on ice. These are questions I can't answer.

But I can connect the dots. And these dots will eventually form the picture of my life. Over and out...

Nota Bene: It's worth reading The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost in its entirety. It seems like such a simple poem; it's one we know the lines to, but there are many layers there; definitely food for thought. This is one of my favorite poems; one I like to contemplate as I pass milestones and make choices as life trudges on.

Anna

Motherly Advice {The Perfect Life}

This is what I thought my life would look like. Seriously. It may sound naïve and silly and immature, but this house is an actual house in the town where Will and I went to college; where we met and fell in love; where we spun sugary strands of silken dreams of how our lives would go and what we do and where we would live, and the kids we would have and the trips we would take.

And this is what I thought it would look like....perfect, cozy, neat and precise; a comfortable life with lots of sure things and laughter and dinner parties and fun and very little not-sure-what-our-next-move-is-in-this-game-of-Life; Real Life, that is.

But...as you all know, there are no sure things in life.

No, our life has been bumpy and gravelly with good times, bad times and in-between times, but a home like that has never been in sight; not yet, at least.

I was reminded by my silly, inexperienced projection of "our beautiful life together" when I was in that town visiting my in-laws recently. I absent-mindedly passed by that house and it caught my attention. Suddenly, those ideas came flooding back to me.

It would have been a beautiful life; the life I had imagined for us. Yes, indeed.

There are days I think, "Ah, this is the life I wouldn't change a thing about this moment" and then there are other times that I yearn for a more picturesque life of more of this and less of that, if even for just a short while.

I'm not complaining though; only reviewing, reminiscing and re-thinking.

We each take different roads; each leading to different places; some are long and winding and lovely, but really only take you in one big loop, never truly getting anyway; some are short and sweet, but the scenery never changes; and others are hilly, then flat, then curving, up and down, high above the coastline, then through the mountains, with a short stretch of desert, then through lush valleys, across great blue lakes, always continuing, always an adventure, with new lessons to be learned at every turn and dead end.

The latter is the road we have taken. Where it ultimately leads, we won't know til the bitter {or sweet} end. So, we may never call a "perfect" storybook house like this one home, but we will have truly played the game of Life and taken chances along the way. Over and out...

Anna

Motherly Advice: Make Your Goodbyes Count {Weekend Edition}

And now I'm glad I didn't know
The way it all would end the way it all would go
Our lives are better left to chance
I could have missed the pain
But I'd of had to miss the dance

~Lyrics from The Dance by Garth Brooks

Life is unpredictable. In fact, life is so risky; so erratic that it would crush our souls if we could see into the future and know the fate of ourselves and our loved ones.

Life's most precious, glowing moments wouldn't be so sweet if we knew of all the painful, heartbreaking parts to come.

All we can do is put one foot in front of the other; living each day in the best way possible. We cannot shield ourselves or those whom we love so dearly from the hate or recklessness or poor judgment of another or disease or random, unpredictable accident, but we can show love and kindness and patience to all whom we come into contact with.

We cannot always know the last time we might say goodbye to someone dear; we cannot count on always having a tomorrow with that special someone; we cannot waste away hours or even minutes being crabby, negative, cross, bored or too busy.

We can love and give and snuggle and talk and share and enjoy the small, the big, the important and the inconsequential.

So, each time you part from your loved ones make your goodbyes count, just in case it's the last one ever.

Our hearts and prayers go out to all of those who were affected by the devastating and pointless shooting in Aurora, CO, early Friday morning. Over and out...

Anna

Motherly Advice {A Mother’s Love}

No language can express the power, and beauty, and heroism, and majesty of a mother's love. It shrinks not where man cowers, and grows stronger where man faints, and over wastes of worldly fortunes sends the radiance of its quenchless fidelity like a star.

~Edwin Hubbell Chapin

I once read an interview of a male celebrity. The name of the person escapes me now and is irrelevant really, but what he said struck me and has stayed with me. I thought it was an interesting observation; one that I found surprising; one that made me wonder if I was alone in my thinking.

The more I have thought about it, the more I think it's simply a difference between being a father and being a mother.

The male celebrity, a husband and father, was discussing his deep love for his children and his wife, but in the end he remarked that it was his wife that he loved best of all; not his children.

Now this is a reasonable statement to make, but it stung me a little. And it made me consider where my allegiance lies within our little family.

And what I came up with was that NOTHING absolutely NOTHING could come between me loving, protecting and being there for my kids. This is not to say that I love my husband less than I love my kids, but I could think of scenarios that could make me reconsider my love for my spouse. I could not think of any reasons that I could stop loving my children.

A mother's love is so deep and wide that it is all encompassing. There is no end and no beginning. It is simply there like the air that we breathe; it is not seen, but can often be felt and is essential for life. A mother's love is not something that can be given and taken away and given again, perhaps to someone else. A mother's love is a constant; a boulder so large that it cannot be moved.

A father can love his children, take care of his children, provide for his children, protect his children and teach his children, but a father did not grow that child in his own body; a father did not feel the first tiny stirrings of that tiny being; a father does not know the internal, animal-like, quick as lightning instinct that is born in a woman at the instant she becomes a mother.

This may seem like a sweeping assumption; and that's because it is. I certainly do know some mothers whose instincts were still-born; mothers who have felt none of these deep feelings for her children. And I have known some fathers who have learned this instinct and act as both father and mother to his children; fathers whose love is greater than all others, as a mother's love is.

A child who feels this kind of love, like a warm, fluffy comforter wrapped around him or her throughout his or her life is bound to grow and thrive and love too. Over and out...

Anna