As I sat down to write this post, I heard a shriek from the kitchen, followed by, "I SPILLED IT!" Come to the rescue, mop up the mess, pat the blonde head, fill up the cup, sit back down, start typing.
------------------------
Dear Mom,
Hang in there.
It's Wednesday. Wednesdays can be hard. Wednesdays here are crazy.
But you've got this.
You made it halfway through the week. The kids are alive, the house hasn't burned down, and even though you've been interrupted seven--no wait, Hey buddy, I'm typing here!--eight times, your brain is still functioning on a somewhat acceptable level.
Pat yourself on the back. Brew that cup of coffee and sneak that piece of chocolate.
Better yet, text your best friend and send her an ugly pic of you crying.
This may or may not have actually happened.
She'll tell you it's okay. Even though you yelled at your kids in the car, then apologized, and then cried. It's okay.
And when your husband calls and you try to talk through muffled sniffs and sobs, he'll let you in on a secret. Remember last night, when you were at that meeting at school? He told your toddler she was only allowed to speak in a whisper for the rest of the night BECAUSE SHE WAS TALKING IN SUCH A LOUD SHOUTING VOICE AND HIS EARS WERE ABOUT TO BLEED.
And you'll laugh. The tears will stop.
This may or may not have actually happened.
And maybe you'll make a call and randomly get a receptionist who, through sheer intuition, makes you privy to a little nickname she and her friends used to call the 4-5 o'clock hour at their houses when they had little ones at home: Arsenic Hour.
Because they're either going to give it, or they're going to take it.
And you'll laugh again. Because nobody actually wants to poison anyone. But you ugly-cried into a dish towel and now your face smells like a mix of onion and countertop spray and it's good to know that today?
Today is hard, and you're not alone.
You have purpose, Mom. God gave you your kids for a reason and He chose no one else to be their Mom but you. And even though they are circling around you as you type as sharks circle around their prey, take a deep breath and smile and know that today is fleeting. Maybe you didn't craft today. Or bake cookies. Or teach your kid anything new.
Or shower. Whatever.
Hang in there.
There were good moments intermixed with the bad. Like when your four year old with tousled blonde hair cried because the apple she was drawing looked more like a "shirt" (I have no idea). Remember those little moments as you're popping a frozen pizza in the oven because that new healthy roasted vegetable dish you made for dinner burned to a crisp.
Tomorrow is a new day. Keep your chin up.
I am toasting you with my second (third?) cup of coffee. Here's to the good things.
And bedtime.
Have a lovely day.
Love,
Me
Wednesday, September 10, 2014
Wednesday, September 3, 2014
Coloring the Barf Bag.
We just returned home from a family trip to Aruba, where my extremely gracious in-laws allowed us to come along with them, with our children, and enjoy a little island time. My friend Steffany at the Sassy Times blog asked me to blog some tips for flying internationally with little kids, so, here you go! While I have zero tips on how to survive super-long flights with kiddos (I have yet to join the ranks of Mom Heros who take their kids to Europe), I can offer a little advice on what it looks like to prepare for a trip that takes you, with your small children, out of the country. We've made the journey four times and every time, we've had our kids with us (depending on who was born, ha). Our trip includes a two-hour stateside flight, followed by a four-hour international flight. Give or take a few minutes, depending on the wind, of course. And the amount of time it takes circling the airport when there's no space to land. Stuff like that.
(I am going to go ahead and bullet-point these tips, since I am nerdy like that and bullet-points make me feel organized. So, here you go! Oh, and I'm including a few pictures that I took with my phone.)
1) Plan For The Day You Return. Yes, this is a biggie for me. Before we leave, I'm already thinking of what is waiting for us when we get back--dance class, school, bible study, etc. It's important to realize you will have traveled with kids and life is going to be ready for you to hit the ground running when you get home, no matter how tired you might be. Make it a little easier on yourself by freezing some lunches, laying out clothes to wear the day after you get back, picking up the house a bit, and stocking the freezer with some frozen pizzas. Even if your kids do great on the trip, you will be tired! Kids who are great while traveling means the parents did their part, too. (And kids who freak out on trips give their parents a run for their money, and thusly the parents will be extra tired. If you think your kids might freak out on your trip, freeze a cake. And don't share.)
2) Make A Packing List. I type out a list and after the items are packed, I highlight them. I'm painfully thorough with the listing. In our case, we have to pack swim stuff, too, like, say, puddle jumpers. Have you ever tried to pack a puddle jumper? IT TAKES UP THE ENTIRE SUITCASE. But our girls love to swim with them, so, they come with us. Think through what a day will look like on your trip, morning to night, and make a list of everything you think you will use. If you know there will be a washer/dryer available, go easy on the clothes. I always overpack clothes and I always regret it. Oh, and to pack our clothing, we lay our shirts flat and pile them in one stack, and then roll them up, jelly-roll style. We do the same with our pants/shorts, too. It's a space-saver. Even for those of us who overpack, ahem. Also, think of any medicine that you might want to bring with you, that may not be readily available at your destination. For example, we have unexpired prescription ear drops and eye drops that our kids have needed at various times, so we throw those in our bags. There's nothing worse than waking up to a kid with a goopy eye. Especially when you are a few thousand miles away from home. And your doctor.
3) Utilize the Carry-Ons. Okay. So, this depends on the ages of your kids, but if your littles are big enough to bring their own pack, like a Skip-Hop pack or a small backpack, let them. I tried to stuff all of our airplane activities into my carry-on purse/bag/tote ... and the straps broke. Sweet. After I did a little separating and dispersing of items in each of the kids' packs, it lightened my load and gave them something to be responsible for. Each of their packs had a blanket, a few activities, a small surprise toy, and a change of clothes in a Ziploc bag. Our littlest had a little accident on the plane that required a change of clothes, and it was handy to have not only the change of clothes, but the Ziploc for the dirty clothes. You never know what the day will bring, so a change of clothes is a must! Also, pack an empty sippy cup/water bottle/cup-with-a-lid to fill up after you go through security. Drinks in the flimsy cups they serve on airplanes will spill easily. Especially when it's fruit punch.
On that note, don't forget the wipes.
4) Get Creative. First, repeat after me: It's okay if your kid zones out on the iPad while on the plane. It's okay. You aren't a bad parent. Even my most die-hard we-don't-own-a-TV friends will say that on a plane? Anything goes. It's for a short amount of time (all things considered). Their brains will not melt, they will be okay. BUT, if you don't want screen time, or if you want to have a little variety, or at least postpone inevitable screen time, some crafts and activities are good to have on hand. For us, this includes small puzzles (make sure the finished product is small enough to fit on the tray-table on the plane), coloring pages and crayons (I printed tropical fish/coral reef/colossal squid pages for the kids, to fit the theme of our vacation...or they can color the barf bag), a necklace craft using dental floss and Cheerios (BIG hit with Lydia), building blocks from the Target dollar aisle, and lots of stickers. I packed Scotch tape to tape the coloring paper on the kids' trays and included a small stack of their favorite books, too. Also, packaged snacks are fine to take with you in and out of the country, so keep that in mind. They will frown upon unpackaged fruit. And illegal parrots. When you're packing fun things to do, remember that there could always be a flight delay that requires more time in the airport than you anticipated--activities and snacks aren't just for the plane ride!
5) Make It An Event. My kids have all flown a few times, but we still build it up and make it a really big deal. We lay out "nice" (but comfortable) clothes for day we fly. For the girls, this means cute sundresses, and for Cub, it means a cotton polo shirt and comfortable shorts. For us, we're trying to send the message to our kids that flying on a plane is something that grown-ups do, and it's a privilege for them to experience it, too. "Nicer" clothing helps to communicate that, and also helps to define our behavior expectations for them on the trip. International trips require lots of lines--security, customs, security again, customs again ... so we try to prepare them. While we were going through customs, we explained to the kids what was going on--Aruba needed to let us out of their country so the United States could let us in, for example--so they could kind of get a grasp as to what was going on. Also, the past few times we've flown, our kids haven't had to take off their shoes while going through security, but, just in case, slip-on shoes or sandals might be a good idea!
1) Passports! You will need them, ha. A child's passport expires after five years, so be sure to keep your passports updated. If your kiddos don't have a passport yet, you can fill out the paperwork here, and print it out. You can get a pic taken cheaply at Walgreens, too, and they can have it ready in a matter of minutes. Both parents must be present when applying for the passport of a minor, so it's helpful to have all of your ducks in a row before you actually turn in your paperwork! We've found that storing them in our carry-on in a Ziploc bag WITH A PEN works best for us. Note that I typed WITH A PEN in all-caps. This was on purpose. At some point on your journey, you will need to fill out immigration documentation, and it's nice to have a pen handy, so you're not waiting on someone to get one for you while your three year-old is asking for a snack and your toddler is writing on his or her forehead with a marker and the four year-old has to go potty. Anticipate that the time to fill out documentation may be an inconvenient one, and this is an easy way to prevent digging through your purse when the time comes, whether you're on a plane or standing in line at customs. Keeping a pen with your passports will help it go more smoothly.
2) Expect the Unexpected. Here's the deal. No matter what, there are going to be variables that are out of your control when you travel. No matter how much you prepare, no matter how many hours you spend creating the perfect in-air craft or how neatly you've organized your travel-size games, ultimately, there are bigger variables out there that you cannot control. Flight delays that leave you sitting in the airport, flight delays that result in short layovers that result in running through an airport, flight delays that leave you on the runway with barely any A/C while your captain optimistically tells you that your plane is only the eighth in line, a stubborn seatbelt that snaps your well-dressed toddler's finger and makes them hysterically scream...while you're stuck on the runway...no amount of edible crafts or cardboard books can prevent those things from happening. Go into the trip with low expectations, and try to relax. Give yourself, and your kids, grace.
Traveling with kids is doable. It isn't always easy, but it isn't always hard, either. And the older they get, the easier it gets. And the vacation is always worth it. Keep it in perspective--two days of flying, with however many days in-between of making memories, enjoying a different culture, and spending lots of time together. If you plan ahead and take care of the things you can control, it will be a lot easier to handle the things that you can't control. And it's always okay to arm yourself with Starbucks for the journey.
Have a lovely day, friends!
(I am going to go ahead and bullet-point these tips, since I am nerdy like that and bullet-points make me feel organized. So, here you go! Oh, and I'm including a few pictures that I took with my phone.)
1) Plan For The Day You Return. Yes, this is a biggie for me. Before we leave, I'm already thinking of what is waiting for us when we get back--dance class, school, bible study, etc. It's important to realize you will have traveled with kids and life is going to be ready for you to hit the ground running when you get home, no matter how tired you might be. Make it a little easier on yourself by freezing some lunches, laying out clothes to wear the day after you get back, picking up the house a bit, and stocking the freezer with some frozen pizzas. Even if your kids do great on the trip, you will be tired! Kids who are great while traveling means the parents did their part, too. (And kids who freak out on trips give their parents a run for their money, and thusly the parents will be extra tired. If you think your kids might freak out on your trip, freeze a cake. And don't share.)
2) Make A Packing List. I type out a list and after the items are packed, I highlight them. I'm painfully thorough with the listing. In our case, we have to pack swim stuff, too, like, say, puddle jumpers. Have you ever tried to pack a puddle jumper? IT TAKES UP THE ENTIRE SUITCASE. But our girls love to swim with them, so, they come with us. Think through what a day will look like on your trip, morning to night, and make a list of everything you think you will use. If you know there will be a washer/dryer available, go easy on the clothes. I always overpack clothes and I always regret it. Oh, and to pack our clothing, we lay our shirts flat and pile them in one stack, and then roll them up, jelly-roll style. We do the same with our pants/shorts, too. It's a space-saver. Even for those of us who overpack, ahem. Also, think of any medicine that you might want to bring with you, that may not be readily available at your destination. For example, we have unexpired prescription ear drops and eye drops that our kids have needed at various times, so we throw those in our bags. There's nothing worse than waking up to a kid with a goopy eye. Especially when you are a few thousand miles away from home. And your doctor.
4) Get Creative. First, repeat after me: It's okay if your kid zones out on the iPad while on the plane. It's okay. You aren't a bad parent. Even my most die-hard we-don't-own-a-TV friends will say that on a plane? Anything goes. It's for a short amount of time (all things considered). Their brains will not melt, they will be okay. BUT, if you don't want screen time, or if you want to have a little variety, or at least postpone inevitable screen time, some crafts and activities are good to have on hand. For us, this includes small puzzles (make sure the finished product is small enough to fit on the tray-table on the plane), coloring pages and crayons (I printed tropical fish/coral reef/colossal squid pages for the kids, to fit the theme of our vacation...or they can color the barf bag), a necklace craft using dental floss and Cheerios (BIG hit with Lydia), building blocks from the Target dollar aisle, and lots of stickers. I packed Scotch tape to tape the coloring paper on the kids' trays and included a small stack of their favorite books, too. Also, packaged snacks are fine to take with you in and out of the country, so keep that in mind. They will frown upon unpackaged fruit. And illegal parrots. When you're packing fun things to do, remember that there could always be a flight delay that requires more time in the airport than you anticipated--activities and snacks aren't just for the plane ride!
5) Make It An Event. My kids have all flown a few times, but we still build it up and make it a really big deal. We lay out "nice" (but comfortable) clothes for day we fly. For the girls, this means cute sundresses, and for Cub, it means a cotton polo shirt and comfortable shorts. For us, we're trying to send the message to our kids that flying on a plane is something that grown-ups do, and it's a privilege for them to experience it, too. "Nicer" clothing helps to communicate that, and also helps to define our behavior expectations for them on the trip. International trips require lots of lines--security, customs, security again, customs again ... so we try to prepare them. While we were going through customs, we explained to the kids what was going on--Aruba needed to let us out of their country so the United States could let us in, for example--so they could kind of get a grasp as to what was going on. Also, the past few times we've flown, our kids haven't had to take off their shoes while going through security, but, just in case, slip-on shoes or sandals might be a good idea!
Have a lovely day, friends!
Monday, August 18, 2014
Scaredy Cat.
I think I've lost my bravery.
I think somewhere between the child-rearing and the barrage of Facebook articles, posts, and comments, I've grown a little timid. I thought that I was stronger than that, but, right now, I'm really not. I mean, as of late, I haven't been. I've grown afraid of the risk of putting myself out there. If I zoom out and look into my world, I can understand why--my life has existed within the walls of my home for several years now since quitting my job, where I am the boss of my day, the planner of my moments. And I've jumped in with both feet into this "job", this really awesome and sometimes very hard and altogether life-changing role. But, with that, I fear I've lost my social footing. As an extrovert, this is terribly disturbing.
As I eluded in my previous post, this next phase of parenting intimidates me. And I think a big part of it is that the schooling every day, the dance, the sports ... they are luring me out of my safe place. Into the big world. And I am terribly afraid that I have lost all sense of social skill and conversational finesse (if I ever had any), and that, when challenged, I will find myself tongue-tied and blubbering. I can see it in my relationships, in my frequency online (I've shirked away from FB, which isn't altogether bad, I guess), in my daily activity--I choose "safe" rather than "unknown". I want to say things, but I don't, because I fear what others might think. I've kind of become a pansy.
I didn't mean to. I think the change just sort of slowly happened as the other things in my life took over. Play dates and trips to the grocery store are about as "out there" as I get these days, and while I'm really good at being nice to the lady at the check-out as she scans my box of Luna bars, I find myself feeling nervous about the other stuff. Talking to other parents at school. Making new friends. Sounds lame, but I kind of feel like I'm starting over as this next phase takes shape. "Hi, my name is ... COMPLETELY FREAKED OUT."
So, with the start of this new school year, I'm resolving to put myself out there. To chat with other parents, help out in the classroom, jump in with both feet. With some liquid courage (in the form of coffee, of course), surely I can try. And if I get shut down, say the wrong thing, or completely mess up, then, okay. Because I will be clumsy. It's how I roll.
But, I will try.
Can anyone relate to this?
(See? I'm putting myself out there and asking. And if the response is 'no', then, that's okay, too. Look at me go.)
Have a lovely day, friends!
I think somewhere between the child-rearing and the barrage of Facebook articles, posts, and comments, I've grown a little timid. I thought that I was stronger than that, but, right now, I'm really not. I mean, as of late, I haven't been. I've grown afraid of the risk of putting myself out there. If I zoom out and look into my world, I can understand why--my life has existed within the walls of my home for several years now since quitting my job, where I am the boss of my day, the planner of my moments. And I've jumped in with both feet into this "job", this really awesome and sometimes very hard and altogether life-changing role. But, with that, I fear I've lost my social footing. As an extrovert, this is terribly disturbing.
As I eluded in my previous post, this next phase of parenting intimidates me. And I think a big part of it is that the schooling every day, the dance, the sports ... they are luring me out of my safe place. Into the big world. And I am terribly afraid that I have lost all sense of social skill and conversational finesse (if I ever had any), and that, when challenged, I will find myself tongue-tied and blubbering. I can see it in my relationships, in my frequency online (I've shirked away from FB, which isn't altogether bad, I guess), in my daily activity--I choose "safe" rather than "unknown". I want to say things, but I don't, because I fear what others might think. I've kind of become a pansy.
I didn't mean to. I think the change just sort of slowly happened as the other things in my life took over. Play dates and trips to the grocery store are about as "out there" as I get these days, and while I'm really good at being nice to the lady at the check-out as she scans my box of Luna bars, I find myself feeling nervous about the other stuff. Talking to other parents at school. Making new friends. Sounds lame, but I kind of feel like I'm starting over as this next phase takes shape. "Hi, my name is ... COMPLETELY FREAKED OUT."
So, with the start of this new school year, I'm resolving to put myself out there. To chat with other parents, help out in the classroom, jump in with both feet. With some liquid courage (in the form of coffee, of course), surely I can try. And if I get shut down, say the wrong thing, or completely mess up, then, okay. Because I will be clumsy. It's how I roll.
But, I will try.
Can anyone relate to this?
(See? I'm putting myself out there and asking. And if the response is 'no', then, that's okay, too. Look at me go.)
Have a lovely day, friends!
Thursday, July 31, 2014
Identity Crisis: Part Two.
I've spent the past few weeks trying to wrap my mind around the reality that my oldest will be entering kindergarten this year. And all of my mulling over and thinking and pining have brought me to the conclusion that with this next phase? I have no idea what I'm doing. Because the two year-old is potty-trained and the four year-old starts preschool this year. And my oldest starts For Reals Big School.
And just like that, the baby phase is over.
(Okay, okay, lightning could strike twice and we could get pregnant while pigs fly over a blue moon. But anyway.)
The baby phase. Almost six years ago, I became a Mom for the first time and it completely changed my life. Just like that, in one final push, I was thrown into the arena of Motherhood, rocking and nursing and crying (baby and I) and changing diapers. And, for me, it also meant the transition from working to becoming a stay-at-home Mom, which involved a bit of an identity crisis. And after much scrambling and struggling for air, I resurfaced and actually kind of got the hang of it. And then it happened again. Twice. Three kids in three years. And what ensued was the chaos of being pulled in three different directions while cooking and crafting and wiping bottoms. I got used to vacuuming with an infant in one arm and a toddler asking for a snack at my feet while the other toddler was already dumping snacks all over the floor. The spinning, the swirling. It became my norm--I existed in the realm of the babies and toddlers. And, craziness aside, I was really empowered by it. Motherhood itself is empowering. It's awesome to see the way you push through and overcome the challenges that come along with the territory...some moments more gracefully than others, of course.
But, now we're entering new territory. Even though Cub has been in a two-day preschool program, I still had all of my kids home with me for most of the week. Hair appointments required a babysitter and trips to the grocery store always happened with littles in tow. And now it's beginning to change.
I thought that maybe it had more to do with the fact that I was sending Cub to kindergarten rather than homeschooling, but I don't think that's it. The time away will be different, but, regardless of that, the diapers are gone. The crafts require a little more finesse (and, typically, a scientific purpose). My commands that were once simply either followed (or ignored) now require explanation and, sometimes, strategy. I feel like I'm being uprooted from the comforts of the only phase I've ever known and I'm being thrown into another new arena: The Arena of Kids That Aren't Just Toddlers. Or something like that. It's just that they're close in age and they've all been little together. And now they're all growing older...together. And it's exciting--taking trips and experiencing life together has given our family new form and it's so much fun. It's great as they get older and become independent, and their roles in the family start to take shape.
But ... the baby phase. It's gone.
Gone are the days of rocking my infant in the stillness of the night. Of fretting and worrying and sleeping on the floor of the nursery when they have RSV. Or when I'm just sure something is wrong, even if nothing is.
And the baby that started it all is now starting kindergarten in less than a month.
And that sentence makes me teary.
I'm on the brink of a new identity crisis. Just like Motherhood itself created a drastic shift in my life, this next phase is causing a little shifting, too. It's intimidating because I've never been there.
And so this summer, I've been holding on. Relishing my moments with my littles. Because I made the mistake of blinking, and time flew by, just like everyone said it would. And I know this next phase of school and sports and dance and being the minivan taxi will fly by even more quickly.
I'm excited. Truly, I am. I have a feeling that this phase of life, with its new challenges, will be fun.
But I am still allowing myself a little space to mourn the end of the era that defined me as a Mom. Call me a sap. Because I am.
The End.
Have a lovely day.
And just like that, the baby phase is over.
(Okay, okay, lightning could strike twice and we could get pregnant while pigs fly over a blue moon. But anyway.)
The baby phase. Almost six years ago, I became a Mom for the first time and it completely changed my life. Just like that, in one final push, I was thrown into the arena of Motherhood, rocking and nursing and crying (baby and I) and changing diapers. And, for me, it also meant the transition from working to becoming a stay-at-home Mom, which involved a bit of an identity crisis. And after much scrambling and struggling for air, I resurfaced and actually kind of got the hang of it. And then it happened again. Twice. Three kids in three years. And what ensued was the chaos of being pulled in three different directions while cooking and crafting and wiping bottoms. I got used to vacuuming with an infant in one arm and a toddler asking for a snack at my feet while the other toddler was already dumping snacks all over the floor. The spinning, the swirling. It became my norm--I existed in the realm of the babies and toddlers. And, craziness aside, I was really empowered by it. Motherhood itself is empowering. It's awesome to see the way you push through and overcome the challenges that come along with the territory...some moments more gracefully than others, of course.
But, now we're entering new territory. Even though Cub has been in a two-day preschool program, I still had all of my kids home with me for most of the week. Hair appointments required a babysitter and trips to the grocery store always happened with littles in tow. And now it's beginning to change.
I thought that maybe it had more to do with the fact that I was sending Cub to kindergarten rather than homeschooling, but I don't think that's it. The time away will be different, but, regardless of that, the diapers are gone. The crafts require a little more finesse (and, typically, a scientific purpose). My commands that were once simply either followed (or ignored) now require explanation and, sometimes, strategy. I feel like I'm being uprooted from the comforts of the only phase I've ever known and I'm being thrown into another new arena: The Arena of Kids That Aren't Just Toddlers. Or something like that. It's just that they're close in age and they've all been little together. And now they're all growing older...together. And it's exciting--taking trips and experiencing life together has given our family new form and it's so much fun. It's great as they get older and become independent, and their roles in the family start to take shape.
But ... the baby phase. It's gone.
Gone are the days of rocking my infant in the stillness of the night. Of fretting and worrying and sleeping on the floor of the nursery when they have RSV. Or when I'm just sure something is wrong, even if nothing is.
And the baby that started it all is now starting kindergarten in less than a month.
And that sentence makes me teary.
I'm on the brink of a new identity crisis. Just like Motherhood itself created a drastic shift in my life, this next phase is causing a little shifting, too. It's intimidating because I've never been there.
And so this summer, I've been holding on. Relishing my moments with my littles. Because I made the mistake of blinking, and time flew by, just like everyone said it would. And I know this next phase of school and sports and dance and being the minivan taxi will fly by even more quickly.
I'm excited. Truly, I am. I have a feeling that this phase of life, with its new challenges, will be fun.
But I am still allowing myself a little space to mourn the end of the era that defined me as a Mom. Call me a sap. Because I am.
The End.
Have a lovely day.
Thursday, June 12, 2014
Atmosphere.
My absolute favorite place to be in our home is the kitchen, with classical guitar echoing from my Contemporary Folk station on Pandora. It's soothing and happy, as I look through our breakfast nook windows to the expanse of land behind our house, loving the peace and solitude that come with living in the country. I work to make our home cozy. There are candid pictures on the walls, pieces of furniture that come from our family two generations ago, and the kids' artwork haphazardly arranged in their hallway, next to the outfits in which they were dedicated at church. You wouldn't walk into our home and see anything that would replicate the cover of a magazine, but, chances are, you'd want to pour a cup of coffee and relax on the couch.
Last night, Lydia was up six times. SIX. She's two. Having a two year old who gets up six times and interrupts your sleep is the kind of thing that might bring you to the edge of insanity, peering over the edge and wondering if it wouldn't be better to simply jump off into the swirling oblivion below, than to take the effort it takes to maintain your wits. I am two years past the newborn stage and y'all, I like my sleep. But, here's the deal: We transitioned Lydia to a "big-girl" bed last year, and then somehow she ended up in her pack 'n play. I think maybe we had used it for naps? And then it just turned into her bed? I wish I knew, alas, this is part of having three small children ... I only remember what happened ten minutes ago and even then, it's iffy. Regardless, Lydia has been in a pack 'n play, so we decided that last night we would put her BACK into her big-girl bed. Clearly, she had an issue with this idea, not in the let-me-throw-a-fit sort of way; rather, she simply got out of her room six times to wake us up and tell us something about G-Ma's driveway and pink ponies, neither of which required immediate attention, and thusly resulted in the repetitive action of moving her back into her bed. Over. And over. And over and over.
Needless, to say, I woke up on the wrong side of the bed. And I mean, literally, I was shoved over uncomfortably to the very edge of my bed, thanks to a certain toddler who at some point, decided the best option was to sleep in our bed and her exhausted mother must have thrown her in there without dispute. She doesn't remember. Ask her later. Also, please do not feel the need to give this exhausted Mother advice on how to transition kids to big beds. This ain't our first rodeo.
I'll do better tonight.
Anyway.
So, I have been extraordinarily cranky today. Yes, extraordinarily. I am unable to put sentences together without determined effort and it's safe to say I've been ... short? with the kids. Snappy, even. And I'm sure my husband was just as thrilled to wake up next to Godzilla this morning, too.
As I look around my house at the pictures, and the furniture, and the couch that welcomes coffee and conversation, I realize that all of those things are but empty pieces of wood and leather and glass and plastic. They can create the look of simultaneous joy and tranquility; however, it is not within their power to create it.
It's me. The wife. The mom.
I set the tone for our home. Whether I like it or not, especially on days like today, where me hiding under the covers seemed like the safest option for everyone, the family looks to me to determine the feel of our home. I set the pace. My smile radiates joy and my scowls send a message of unsettled frustration, and I know my family can feel it. I know that in one swift move I can make a moment awesome, or I can make it miserable. And I really want my kids to feel awesome. Or, at least to have moments of awesomeness amidst a frustrating day.
This all came to me as I stood in the kitchen, making my lunch, with classical guitar coming from my Contemporary Folk station on Pandora, as I looked through the breakfast nook windows at the expanse of land behind our house. But I did not feel peaceful. And as I looked around the house at those smiling faces in the frames, I knew that my exhaustion, though justified, was but a very, very small and unimportant thing that was making the mood of our home feel unsettled. I don't think it's worth it.
The reality is, I'm tired today. But I'm not promised tomorrow. So, I will either suck it up and try my best the rest of the day (which will undoubtedly vacillate between winning and failing), or I will continue in this pattern of grumpy self-pity, causing the loved ones around me to walk on eggshells. And that's just no fun.
My second cup of coffee is brewing and I am going to really try to choose joy today. Because I want those smiling faces in the frames to tell the truth. That joy does live here.
Even with a a two year old in a big-girl bed who wakes us up to talk about pink ponies.
Have a lovely day.
Last night, Lydia was up six times. SIX. She's two. Having a two year old who gets up six times and interrupts your sleep is the kind of thing that might bring you to the edge of insanity, peering over the edge and wondering if it wouldn't be better to simply jump off into the swirling oblivion below, than to take the effort it takes to maintain your wits. I am two years past the newborn stage and y'all, I like my sleep. But, here's the deal: We transitioned Lydia to a "big-girl" bed last year, and then somehow she ended up in her pack 'n play. I think maybe we had used it for naps? And then it just turned into her bed? I wish I knew, alas, this is part of having three small children ... I only remember what happened ten minutes ago and even then, it's iffy. Regardless, Lydia has been in a pack 'n play, so we decided that last night we would put her BACK into her big-girl bed. Clearly, she had an issue with this idea, not in the let-me-throw-a-fit sort of way; rather, she simply got out of her room six times to wake us up and tell us something about G-Ma's driveway and pink ponies, neither of which required immediate attention, and thusly resulted in the repetitive action of moving her back into her bed. Over. And over. And over and over.
Needless, to say, I woke up on the wrong side of the bed. And I mean, literally, I was shoved over uncomfortably to the very edge of my bed, thanks to a certain toddler who at some point, decided the best option was to sleep in our bed and her exhausted mother must have thrown her in there without dispute. She doesn't remember. Ask her later. Also, please do not feel the need to give this exhausted Mother advice on how to transition kids to big beds. This ain't our first rodeo.
I'll do better tonight.
Anyway.
So, I have been extraordinarily cranky today. Yes, extraordinarily. I am unable to put sentences together without determined effort and it's safe to say I've been ... short? with the kids. Snappy, even. And I'm sure my husband was just as thrilled to wake up next to Godzilla this morning, too.
As I look around my house at the pictures, and the furniture, and the couch that welcomes coffee and conversation, I realize that all of those things are but empty pieces of wood and leather and glass and plastic. They can create the look of simultaneous joy and tranquility; however, it is not within their power to create it.
It's me. The wife. The mom.
I set the tone for our home. Whether I like it or not, especially on days like today, where me hiding under the covers seemed like the safest option for everyone, the family looks to me to determine the feel of our home. I set the pace. My smile radiates joy and my scowls send a message of unsettled frustration, and I know my family can feel it. I know that in one swift move I can make a moment awesome, or I can make it miserable. And I really want my kids to feel awesome. Or, at least to have moments of awesomeness amidst a frustrating day.
This all came to me as I stood in the kitchen, making my lunch, with classical guitar coming from my Contemporary Folk station on Pandora, as I looked through the breakfast nook windows at the expanse of land behind our house. But I did not feel peaceful. And as I looked around the house at those smiling faces in the frames, I knew that my exhaustion, though justified, was but a very, very small and unimportant thing that was making the mood of our home feel unsettled. I don't think it's worth it.
The reality is, I'm tired today. But I'm not promised tomorrow. So, I will either suck it up and try my best the rest of the day (which will undoubtedly vacillate between winning and failing), or I will continue in this pattern of grumpy self-pity, causing the loved ones around me to walk on eggshells. And that's just no fun.
My second cup of coffee is brewing and I am going to really try to choose joy today. Because I want those smiling faces in the frames to tell the truth. That joy does live here.
Even with a a two year old in a big-girl bed who wakes us up to talk about pink ponies.
Have a lovely day.
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