Changes

I'm sitting in the car listening to Owen's deep breathing as he sleeps comfotably clutching his stuffed animal buddies in his car seat. Today is so unlike the past week; there are actually fluffy cumulus nimbus clouds in the foreground of a beautiful bright blue sky. What a contrast and a gift compared to the last grey and rainy days.
I just dropped Martin off at his new job. Yes, he started working at a boys rehabilitation home last week! We're are both excited about it, not just because he is now out of a place that caused him much stress, but also for the potential here to really play a part in changing young boys lives. It seems it was meant to be. I'm looking forward to hearing all about what goes on there and I know he is going to enjoy it.
With all of the recent changes to our schedule, I'm just trying to hang on and keep going. It's a little crazy I have to admit, getting out the door for pre-school in the morning, then coming back a few hours later (usually with a cranky toddler), and also with MArtin's new unsettled schedule. We're staying afloat though, and all of these changes are truly for the better.

Uh oh... Owen caught me... He's waking up now. No more computer time.

Pre-school Already?

I can't believe the day has come... tommorrow Elijah starts pre-school. We've had almost four years of fun together and now he's moving into this new stage of life. It only hit me about a week ago that it is really happening and closer than it could possibly seem. I know that he's ready, I know that he will love it... and though I know that there are many many benefits, I also know that I will miss him.
He's been my buddy and turned into the most wonderful big brother to Owen. He loves his place of knowing all the rules and making sure that Owen is held to the same high standards. I wonder about all the things that will change now as I sit on this last night of what will become many nights of wondering how he will function without me.
that's probably the most scary part- wondering what it will be like without me. No one knows him as well as I do ( and no one ever will until many many years from now). Of course, the whole point of parenting is to shape children to be able to go out away from us independantly and be "all right," but secretly we want them to need us, we want to keep them close forever, however selfish and unecisary that may be.
He's going to be okay. He's going to love it. Life will go on.... it will change, it will be different, but it will go on.

Laundry Day

I realized it was time to wash the whites again when I couldn’t find a clean flat sheet for my sister-in-law when she stayed over last week. This hasn’t happened in long time, mostly because we received five or six sets of sheets for our wedding. I don’t usually let the laundry pile up that much; I guess it’s been that kind of month though… the kind of month that feels like one long day. Things that used to be on the top of my list are lost and forgotten.
So I washed and dried all the sheets I could find, including the ones on both of my boys’ beds. I wanted to get this job all done at once. Tonight I had to face folding them and putting them all away… the part of laundry that I hate most of all. I still haven’t figured out how to fold those fitted sheets- with which I have a love-hate relationship. They are, of course, brilliantly practical, yet a ridiculous bulgy entanglement until they actually appear on the bed. I’ve tried and tried matching the seams up, folding down the part that’s curved, so there’s somewhat of a straight edge, but still I end up with this ugly rolled up package that looks like my three-year-old folded it, and I gave it entirely no effort which is the opposite of the truth. So, you can see why I avoid washing sheets every week.
I must also mention that the flat sheets give me trouble as well which I’m going to credit only to the massive size of the sheet. I mean really, have you ever tried folding a sheet that is the size of a small bedroom? I get it all spread out, match up the corners of one side, and then I can’t seem to make it to the other side without getting twisted up or misguided. It’s very frustrating. I’m tempted to give up, turn the entire pile of sheets into one big wad, and throw them in the linen closet- as is. Good luck everyone in finding a sheet when you need one!
However, I didn’t turn my clean basket of whites into a wad… after all, there were socks and underwear in there too! I took a deep breath, sorted it out and did my best as usual to make these large thin pieces of material appear as close to a neatly folded stack as possible. In the end, I was nearly completely dissatisfied by my efforts, but the good news is there are now clean sheets in the closet and an empty laundry basket for me to collect yet another load.

MOTHERHOOD: don't forget your Machete!

I wrote this a few months ago and decided to post it here on my blog in hopes that maybe someone else is out there feeling just like me who can benefit.


I feel small, like I could slip down the drain in the kitchen sink and nobody would notice. Then again, they would notice. They’d notice an absence of nagging, yelling, and emotional tornados from the house. Who is this person I have become? I start out the day trying to be the person I know I should be, but then something happens… and that other person comes out to handle the situation, and then another thing happens and she’s taking over. I step back and don’t even recognize my life. It’s not supposed to be this way. I was going to be the calm understanding mother of respectful children who handled every situation with grace and ease. Is that even possible? I don’t think so. Motherhood has taken me by surprise on this crazy day-by-day adventure.
Most days, I’m hacking through the jungle with a machete, hoping this free-style path that I’m creating will eventually end up back to where I am supposed to be. But where is that exactly? Does anyone know? It’s exhausting- the search, the spontaneity, the mere survival of it all. Just a few more really hard days like today, and I think we’ll either make it back to the main path of balance where mother and child and family work together in harmony… or it will break me and I’ll never get turned in the right direction. I will have fallen so hard that I’ll never be able to get back up again. I know, that’s very pessimistic of me. I’m just begging for some rescue heroes to plow through the deep green overgrowth of my life on a four-wheeler, pull me aboard and show me the way. I imagine myself getting on, tuckering in for a long journey back to sanity and the right path, which will most likely be three feet away. Just like me- to give up when I was so close. But what if they never come? What if things never change? Will I be stuck in the jungle forever with monkeys and wild animals who won’t listen to a thing I say? Maybe I’ll start making my own clothes from their hides…
It’s better at night. At night I can wash away the exhaustion of the day, and after a few minutes of quiet I almost seem to forget it altogether. Maybe that’s how I’m able to keep going. The rest and the time to myself, recharges me for another day of trudging through the unknown.
I never knew it would be like this. I think that is what bothers me the most. I feel so unprepared, so inadequate- which frustrates me to no end. No one told me I would need a machete, much less that I would be making up most of the rules…where the path is, when to eat, sleep, or dance uncontrollably. These were things that felt very structured when I was growing up, like the parents all had the same handbook. When the rules were broken they knew exactly how to handle it. And there was no adventuring in the jungle; we always walked on the trail of balance and perfect harmony. I’m not saying we were perfect children by any means, but my parents somehow knew how to earn our respect gracefully, seemingly without much effort. Maybe I’m wrong; maybe it took a great deal of effort, as it currently is for me. They may have been able to disguise it better than I can.
I just can’t help feeling remorse at the end of the day, like I could have done better. I could have hacked more of the path away, gotten us closer to where we are supposed to be. I could have used smoother movements, more graceful tones, been lighter on my feet. What I have realized is that I can’t change them or their reactions to me. I can only change myself. I can give them opportunities to choose good and that is all. I can’t make that decision for them. I never knew it would be so hard, that it would hurt so much. I guess my biggest fear is that I will fail as a mother, the one thing I really wanted to be great at. My mind wanders to places far in the distance, and I can’t help knowing that what I do now affects their future every bit as much as what I will do then. Is the defiance a stage that will pass, or will it only get worse? Will an unruly almost four-year old become an uncontrollable teenager? I don’t want to believe that’s true, but sometimes it keeps me up at night.
I know discipline is healthy, and completely necessary, I just don’t want to spend ALL day playing rule enforcer! Somehow at this age I can’t escape it. They are both learning constantly and that includes boundaries of all kinds. Lately, Elijah has been testing everything possible, and even laughing at some punishments. I left him in his room with these words to end the day after he had been told several times to go to bed, “I’m going to let you choose. If you want to be good, you can lie down and go to sleep on your pillow like I asked you to. You can also choose to be naughty which will earn you a day of no fun tomorrow. I’m going to leave now and let you decide.” This works much better than time outs or spankings for Elijah. He’s a very smart little boy and deeply wants to do the right thing, so I find by giving him the option he will usually choose it. I think he also doesn’t want me to be right for some reason, so leaving the room allows him to make the decision with his own conscience. I always try to tell him that I love him after he has been punished. It feels much better when I can do this and keep myself in control, then I know I’m not acting out of anger and frustration.
Are you too using your machete? Have you found the path of balance in your life or do you too feel as if you are in the middle of an overgrown jungle?

Plan To Be Spontaneous!

I love summer mornings… when it is still cooler outside than it is inside, dew sparkles in the blades of grass that need mowing, and everything looks and feels fresh. Most of all I think I like the idea that I get to start anew myself. I don’t know what is in store for us (which used to scare me to death- living without a schedule that is). Now it is exciting just to be. We never know where we’ll end up or what we might get a chance to do that day, and I’m beginning to really embrace that.
Martin and I discovered a new phrase that seems to encompass our lives so completely, “Plan to be Spontaneous!” I love it! Of course my instinct is to plan, plan, plan until I’ve worked out every detail, but sometimes that really sucks all the fun out of life. I’m learning to let things go.
Each day holds so many possibilities. Elijah and I were discussing all of the fun things to do in summer this morning. His favorites were: mowing the lawn with daddy (he loves pushing his toy mower exactly in step with daddy- it is one of the cutest things ever), going to the library, getting ice cream, and going to the beach to build sand castles! The conversation started in the garage. He noticed our sled in the corner and wanted to go sledding! I prodded him with questions trying to get him to connect that it was entirely the wrong season for that. It fascinates me the way kids think, though. They see something they want to do… and what should stop them? Certainly not lack of snow!
Today I am thankful for so many things! I thank God for my boys who teach me more about life and myself than I would ever know without them; I thank God for my husband who constantly surprises me with love and care that I don’t deserve; and I thank God for seasons that come to us with such detail we will never understand it all. What a blessed life… what a Love He has for us!

Tink's Last Day

Animals have a way of knowing when death is coming. They prepare in their own way for the end of their life. It is so unlike human nature. We fret and fight it with everything we have, denying and holding on. From what I have seen, the animals have it right. They usually go off on their own, away from everything to spend their last days in peace. What a way to go. If I knew it was coming, I’d like to spend my last days in peace, not fighting to stay here longer unnaturally. But that is a different conversation.

For some time now our cat, Tinkerbelle, has been getting sicker. Two weeks ago when we came back from a weekend trip to Seattle, she was looking very fragile indeed. Her appetite decreased so much that she barely ate anything at all. It was obvious she had lost a considerable amount of weight. It was shocking to see the numbers on the scale, though. She used to be a fat lazy cat weighing in at a healthy twelve pounds. Now she was diminished down to a mere seven and a half pounds (smaller than both of my boys birth weights)!
We finally took her to the Vet a few days ago. I was prepared to hear that she needed a new special diet, or maybe a vitamin for cats that would revive her. No, none of that would be needed. We were facing her last days. The Vet told us she had lymphoma in her stomach - which made it nearly impossible to eat. I wasn’t ready for this. Holding back tears, I didn’t want to accept it. Surely she couldn’t be dying… but then again all of the signs were there. She looked more haggard than I had ever seen her, and her escapes outside had been more frequent as well. We were all going to have to say good byes to our sweet Tinkerbelle… forever.
Nearly five years ago, Martin and I were still newlyweds living in Nebraska when we adopted Tinkerbelle from the “Cat Sanctuary.” She was our “baby” then. We brushed her nearly every day, I even gave her baths from time to time, and she greeted us much like a puppy went we came through the front door. She’s lived in every place that we have… there in our very first apartment, at my parents home when we moved in with them (both times), in our second apartment in Coeur d’Alene where we first brought Elijah home to, also in the house that we bought Owen home to (which was not our own- we were house-sitting rent free), and finally the house that has become her last home, the house that God blessed us with last spring.
I can’t help feeling that we are losing part of our family. I know how silly that sounds… she’s an animal right? They only live so long. I know, but she has given us so much. She’s tolerated two rambunctious boys poking, and prodding, and petting too enthusiastically. But more than that, she’s been a true companion. After the boys are in bed each night she finds her spot on the couch with me, or if I’m in bed reading, she is there too. In fact, whenever I am alone, she finds her way to me, as if to say, “I’m here for you, you are not alone.” She has been such a comfort to me especially in times of loneliness. That’s really the reason Martin agreed to get her five years ago. He had one more year of college to finish which meant cross-country and track meets on the weekends and LOTS of studying and school work in between. Tinkerbelle kept me company while he was away. She was something else I could love, and in return she loved me so unconditionally.
Today is her last day. It seems so strange to set a time to it. We considered letting her go in the wild somewhere, but it would be more pain and struggle for her that way, since she has no claws and can’t eat anything. So the date and time is set. Tonight at five-thirty we’ll drive to the Vet to say our last goodbyes.
We are truly going to miss you Tink! You have been a sweet part of our family.

Note: Did you know cats are the only animals that smile with their eyes?
I'm going to miss Tink's beautiful green eyes slanting into that happy "smile."

Reflections

The thing about having a lot of time alone is that it gives me too much time to think. This can be a good thing, but sometimes in the world of thoughts it is dangerous. On our own, what we think to be true may not be true at all, and living so internally isn't healthy. Some days this causes me to believe the negative twisted thoughts my mind has created, that I am worthless, hopeless, and life is meaningless. what a pit of despair! And of course all of those things would be true without Jesus.
With that realization I kind of have to smack myself in the face and say, "wake up!" Because I know if I let myself, my whole life could pass me by. I could miss everything if I let myself believe the lies.
All this reflection has made me see how ungrateful I've been. Yes, it's been a rough year, not just for me but for thousands. I've seen so many ups and downs this year it's made me dizzy. I miss my friends, my family, my "normal" life...whatever that is. But along the way I have missed some things- some really great things that I won't ever get back.
I never know when it's going to be a rough day. In fact every day I can pretty count on being challenging, but the great thing is with embracing that challenge I can find joy again.
A few nights ago it hit me hard. It had been a long day. elijah took a late nap, which meant he'd have an even later bedtime, and Owen woke up from already being in bed at around 8:30. I held Owen on the couch. He laid his head on my shoulder, just wanting to be held, I think. Elijah sat at the table coloring in his favorite Lightning Mcqueen coloring set. It was a moment, one I had imagined and dreamed of finding full of peace and joy and budding with contentment. I embraced it. After all how long had it been since Owen wanted to sit still long enough to cuddle? and elijah almost never sticks with one activity longer than twenty minutes. This was bliss. I had both of my beautiful children happy and glowing right within reach.

I don't want to miss anything else. I want to always act out of love and accept my circumstances instead of fighting them. Life is moving always faster than we can keep up with it, but for now I'm tired of the race. I'm simply ready to embrace my moments- whatever they may be.

Today, count your blessings with me. I'm sure your day will be better when you do!