Modeling

When I was a kid, I loved many things about my mother. She always looked amazingly beautiful when she got all dressed up for a party; her eyes always sparkled and she never looked not put together, even when we were going to the grocery store. She liked playing card games, and would stay up laughing and talking when her sisters or niece came to visit like a little school girl. She was always very encouraging when it came to my school work, and supported all of us kids by showing up to every game, practice, outing, festival, carnival, birthday, special day and more. She made my lunches in the morning and would take me out for special treats if I had to miss any school for a doctors or dentist appointment.
There were also things about my mom that left me wanting, as I suppose there are for any child. I wanted to be held and cuddled more, although I doubt she ever turned away a hug or kiss from me. I wanted to be played with more often, as she was often too busy to sit down and play games with me. I wanted to be appreciated for the help I did, or tried to do, even if it wasn't exactly what she wanted, or if it wasn't exactly done in the way that left her less work to do. I really sought to please her because I loved it when she was happy with me.

Tonight, I realize that in many ways, I have turned into this same type of mother. I am very supportive and encouraging of extra-curricular activities, I volunteer in the classroom for each of my kiddos, I enjoy taking them on special outings, and I love talking to my friends and playing games. I too think I spend less time cuddling and playing with my girls and more time being frustrated by them, or just too busy to stop for a moment and play. I also blow a fuse when they have again not cleaned their room for the 400th time and I treat them very poor, as if to say to them, "I love you, when you clean your room and do as I say." I hate this in me.

I hate that they might feel that they need to perform a certain way to earn my love and approval. Sometimes I just hate what flows out of me all on it's own.

No revelations tonight of God's love and grace, just frustration at the hypocritical mom I have so often turned out to be.

Help-meet??

I read a book a while back about being a husband's "Help-meet" as I guess is the appropriate translation of the Genesis account of what a woman was created to be. Tonight, I just feel a little bit overwhelmed by that task and am reminded that it is in God alone that true comfort, help and restoration is found.

My husband is struggling tonight with frustration, guilt and shame for a small financial situation we've found ourselves in. Like so many Americans, the downturn of the real estate market has effected so many, including my little family in these walls tonight. We, like many others, are possibly going to lose a house, hopefully to a short-sale, but certainly to something, and it is currently at an unknown cost to our current home and/or assets. It is not in this realization that my husband has found his frustration tonight, but in the factual, grueling hardship letter that had to be composed detailing the downfall.

Although I am not a man, I understand that financial provision is up there among most men's "must-do" lists and I can assume that any litany of my negative decisions and actions typed out in Times Roman for all the world to see would be humiliating and overwhelming.

I lack the ability to cheer him up tonight, and he went to bed quite solemn and exasperated.

I am reminded of a story in Tina Fey's (not-very-Christian) book (that I found greatly enjoyable!): Bossypants. She recounts the story of her mother watching two small Greek children while their parents went to a wedding. The baby cried non-stop in the playpen the ENTIRE time the parents were gone, and after hours and hours of this torture, the 7-year-old brother couldn't take it anymore. He eventually burst and yelled out in Greek (which Tina Fey's mother understood) something along the lines of, "What will come of us!!???" Privy to the situation in the scope of the human existence, their situation was not very horrific, and Fey's mom ran to the kitchen to hide her laughter at this situation.

Although her connection was not spiritual, I agreed with her point: many times in life, we are that small, 7-year-old boy, running around thinking the entire world is crashing down on us in a not-so-tragic situation. I believe this must at times be what God sees of us--running and scrambling and crying out in frustration, anger or shame at the situation we have found ourselves in, when really, He is with us. He is in control.

I am grateful that whatever situation we find ourselves in, just by aligning ourselves in Him, we are never removed from God's presence, love and plan for our life.

Rough Mom Day

Recently, I've been struggling with my identity as a mom.

I am not sure who I am other than "mom" and many times I feel like my former, non-mom self is such a faint memory that I don't even recall how I felt. I look back on decisions I've made, journals I've written and letters I find that seem to evoke thoughts from someone I've never met.

Maybe everyone does this as they age and it has less to do with mom-dom and more to do with the passage of time and maturity.

I just wonder when the Katie I remember and the mom I've become will join hands and work together, or will there constantly be this perpetual pull in two different directions as if one of them is in the wrong and needs to be let go.

I love my girls. I can honestly say that before having them, I never thought I could love someone so much that your whole life would be encompassed in them. I am just in the beginning stages of becoming that uber-involved mom. I run and lead a playgroup for my littlest two and worked 6 hours/week in my oldest daughter's classroom. They are hardly ever away from my side for more than a few minutes while I potentially have a second to myself or to share with my hubby in the evening. They even still join us in our bed in a nightly parade of pitter pattering feet walking across the hall. Next year, my middle daughter will start Kindergarten and I am sure I will be with her every step of the way. I love being involved in their lives, I love spending time with them, and I love watching them grow.

Yet, why do I feel sometimes that with each give of myself toward their lives, that I lose a little bit of my own identity as a person?? Does it have to be this way? Are the two connected on a line that pulls and pushes in directly opposite directions, or is this connection just in my head??

I had a hard mom day today. I felt frustrated by my children fighting, crying, fighting and crying again. An outing to the park was delayed and eventually we ran out of time, my lofty dinner plans went awry as the chicken that I bought expired a few days before. None of those individual frustrations add up to the way I felt today: suffocation. After the chicken date check, and the all too casual F-bomb that I dropped loud enough for all ears to hear, I lost it and sobbed for 30 minutes. My dear children and husband tried to comfort me, but I felt very confused and lost in my own thoughts that I wasn't quite ready for comfort.

Is there another job in the world that causes so much inner conflict, love, joy, pain and sadness all at once? I can't imagine it.

And I can't imagine my world without my beautiful girls, either.

Bad day or not, they are the most amazing thing I've ever been blessed with.

Before they went to bed, I heard them laughing and playing in the other room and I was reminded of myself as a small child making up a store and then "buying" different items. It brought a smile to my face to end the day, and I am thankful for little bits of joy in the midst of anything.

For that God, I am thankful.

What I did when I wasn't doing what I was supposed to be doing

I planned on blogging a lot. I admit I wanted about 10,000 followers (who all love and adore me as if I was in my own Julie & Julia book and give me little quips of encouragement along the way as life gets difficult). I wanted to blog so that I could have something permanent written down about my beautiful children.
Well, almost 2 years have passed since my last blog post and I haven't quite done what I set out to do.

So, what have I been up to?? (You might ask, if there is a you...)

I've been playing. I've been so busy playing and laughing and learning and cleaning and wiping and sleeping that I haven't really had time for you.

While I regret leaving you hanging, I don't regret the time spent with my darling little ones, who for the moment, are still quite little.

I leave you with something my oldest said the other day in response to a co-1st grader telling her the boy on her sticker was hot. "I touched the sticker mom, it wasn't hot at all!" :)

Wilkommen & Two funny things about Hannah

In an attempt to not lose the random thoughts that pop in and out of my brain, I am starting up this blog.  

To give you an example, I will share these two funny things about Hannah that happened this week, that no doubt I will forget in one more week if it weren't for cementing them down in cyberspace somewhere.

1.  Hannah wants to be a doctor.  When grammy was in the hospital this week, Hannah told me she NEEDED to tell grammy something to make her feel better.  When she finally got it out of her, she told grammy that all she needed to do to make her feel better was to get up and walk around.  Grammy & the rest of the family in the hospital room chuckled a bit & told Hannah, out of complete obligation to support her ego, that it was good advice.  Grammy stayed one more night in the hospital- not walking, on her back in bed.

The next morning, grammy's doctor tells her that what she needs to do to feel better is to get up and walk around.

My child is a genius!

2.  Abby's homework this past week consisted of playing some rhyming games.  We were in the car rhyming everything we could think of with "cat".  Abby said, "hat", "bat", "mat", "sat" and Hannah pitched in "rat", proving her capability to rhyme.  After a bit of silence, Hannah adds "toothpaste" to the list in an attempt only to make us laugh.  We did.  She is always looking for opportunities to make us laugh.