wisten!

i don't know how people who work full-time and still function as mothers do it. i don't know how people with more than one little person do it. i don't know how single parents do it. i have it easy...and i can barely do it!

i'm amazed at how "busy" i am...with nowhere i have to be, nothing i have to do...still, i am busy. my little one wakes up and asks "where are we going today, mommy?", and i cringe a little bit inside. granted, we're doing fun things, important things. things like going to see grandparents and great-grandparents. helping at church. visiting friends. going to the playground. and don't forget about the occasional not-fun grocery shopping, doctor's appointments, etc. seriously...how do other people do all of this?

i'm not complaining. i'm just saying that it's tricky to be a parent. there's a lot to juggle. some days i get into bed and i think, "yes! i did ok today!". and other days i pray, "Lord, may today not have caused too much permanent damage..." I think everybody does the best they can do, and sometimes that's good enough, and sometimes it isn't.

but it takes a village. like, for real.  a village.

my village is my husband and family, my friends, my church family and MOPs group... i don't know what i would do without any of them. from babysitting duties to advice, from an ear to vent to and arms to hug...they do it all. recently, we started our third attempt at potty training our 2 1/2 year old (he will be 3 in december). the first two attempts were, shall we say...terrible. they involved a lot of pee on my floor, a lot of frustration on my part, and a whole bunch of words in my head that i can't say here. with brooks showing multiple signs of "being ready", i did the only thing i had left: i asked for help. it's not that i don't like asking for help...truly...i just was raised to try to do it myself first. and sometimes, that's painful. this time, my sister-in-law graciously gave me all the wisdom of having done this three times already (with a fourth soon-to-come). she kindly showed me that i was doing the opposite of what worked for her (although i was doing what "all the books" told me to do), and encouraged me to give this new way a try.

i won't lie and say it was easy. but it sure as heck was easier and exponentially more successful than my previous attempts. we are on day three today of no diapers (can i get a "whoop whoop!!"), and there have been some ups and downs, and a little more pee in the floor, but nothing like previously. i'm amazed at how much of this process was simply a learning process for ME! getting to know my child better, watching for his cues and signals, and definitely embracing and changing things about my own reactions and expectations. i joked on instagram that it should be called patience training instead of potty training, but in all reality, that's what it's been for me. i am not, by nature, a patient person. and this whole journey of parenthood...that's a huge part of what it's about. learning to be patient. learning to be present. learning to be less busy. while my boy sat on the potty, i got to watch him turn his hands into airplanes, listen to him make up silly songs, and we've had a lot of time to just sit and read and talk. i've had hours (no exaggeration) to stare at his long, beautiful eyelashes, wipe his tears, and cheer him on as he says "wisten (listen) mommy! pee-pee! wisten!" we've had large amounts of sugar, been through a lot of laundry and wet wipes, and i can't believe how much differently i feel about him, about parenting, and about our time together as compared to three days ago. many times over the last few days, i have wished for help, for chocolate, for wine...but there's something to be said for going through a battle together. just he and i. well...he and i and aunt tida's genius advice...

we did it, little sugarbear. we made it. we'll keep learning together, i know. be patient with me, as i am learning to be with myself. you are my gift, my miracle. and thank God you're at least halfway potty trained.

a sad tale

i'm getting old. seriously.

allow me to present my case.

in the last two days i have done/said/thought multiple things that i feel typically reside w/ the elderly population. it started yesterday with a not-at-all graceful fall. and by fall, i mean that i ended up in the splits. i haven't done the splits in 23 years. and now i have a purple kneecap and a sore toe. i may have broken a hip.

start watching for good deals on wheelchairs for me on craigslist...

today i remarked that a teenager's dress was "way too short". i did love her shoes, but then remembered that i had chosen comfortable, sensible footwear for the day. i actually tried on a cuter pair with my outfit. and then consciously chose the ones that wouldn't cause me to limp at the end of the day.

get my tapioca pudding ready...

i was hungry for dinner at 4:30pm. this never happens. unless you're old, of course. which i am. i ate casseroles at a baptist church at 4:30pm. i got home at 7 and wanted to go to bed. but i have heartburn, so instead i watched a piano concert on PBS. and i liked it.

someone buy me a life-alert bracelet...

what is happening to me?! i've always been a little older in spirit than other people my age...i say i'm an "old soul". i love antiques. i read books printed on paper. i send snail mail. i own "vintage" clothing. i shop at goodwill.

so there you have it, ladies and gentlemen of the jury. i completely skipped middle age. 35 is the new elderly.

new things

so we know that our kid loves dirt. he's all boy, for sure. dirt, trucks, cars, trains, construction vehicles, and more dirt. he is most happy playing with some combination of those things. but it's fun watching these interests evolve, watching him learn, hearing him speak more articulately about them, discovering new things.

today was beautiful, so out we went. the box of dirt is a favorite hang-out, and i obliged him once more. i can't resist those big brown eyes. but today, we discovered some new fun...dandelions and worms! 

dandelions and dirt were eaten...he survived. he laughed. he said dirt is "yucky" (thankfully..). the dandelions in his mouth were especially hilarious. he was not a fan but was totally fascinated. and then we found the worm.... after the dirt and dandelions, my first instinct was to say "don't eat it!". he obeyed, fortunately, and then we got to talk about it being an animal, why God made worms (because they help the garden? right?), how we have to be gentle with them. then i found myself offering to pick it up for him (what?! that unconditional love kicked in, i suppose. i just wanted to see him smile!). he held it in his hand for a few seconds and then quickly shook it off. we watched it wriggle for a little bit, covered it back up with dirt, and started digging for more.

it was such a fun little snippet of time. watching his amazement. his wonder. i will do anything to make him happy. even pick up worms.

reminders

i'm making dinner, looking out our kitchen window. i see our raised beds that i'm hoping will be full of vegetables later this year. one already has shoots showing of snap peas, lettuce, and spinach. the other is full of dirt, waiting for me to plant some seeds.

my little one has been in that raised bed today, the one that's full of cow manure and dirt. i see his blue bucket with the yellow snap-on handle. his faded red spade. the red, yellow-handled shovel. the yellow dump truck with the big wheels. the evidence of the fun he had today is all over my floors. hard little brown clumps of pure joy, shaken out in bits and pieces from his shoes, his pants.

as i look at the toys, i smile. as i sweep, i breathe a thousand thank-you's. i hear glass break in his little "kitchen", a little jar he was using to make me "coffee" now in pieces; i sweep some more. ann voskamp speaks of voicing even the smallest of joys. dirt on a floor that says my child experienced gladness today. laundry piled up that tells of one more day i got to spend with my family. dishes that need to be done, proof that we are fed and are not hungry today.

my husband asks if i want him to go get the toys outside and bring them in. i tell him no. i like my reminders.

midnight

"let's go get him", he used to say. when brooks was tiny. when everything was new. we would go get him in the middle of the night, just to hold him and watch him sleep. he was so little, he wouldn't even wake up. we hadn't done it in so long.

"let's go get him", he said last night. "absolutely not", i said. and then, "oh yes, let's" as my better judgment left in favor of enjoying the important moments. i scooped him up, thomas blanket and all. as i carried him to our bed, he mumbled "my bed....want my bed." i smiled as he settled down between us on our pillows. his little mouth that used to make the tiny "o", his arms askew. he's bigger now, but still the same in many ways. we watched him for a few minutes, breathed our prayers of thankfulness.

as i put him back in his bed, he asked for a song. twinkle, twinkle. i sang. he slept. thomas kept him warm. i kissed his warm cheek, smelled his brooks smell, nuzzled my face in his hair. "night, night mommy." night, night brooks. momma loves you.

my windows

we have started singing in our church choir.

for me, singing and music are like home. i grew up with parents who were (and still are) involved in music ministry at every church we ever attended. i have memories of waking up to Christian music and hearing my parents singing and playing the piano. it's always been a part of my life, and is something i have grown to love and enjoy. frequently, God speaks to me through song lyrics and even simply through the beauty of melody and harmony. i love hearing voices sing and instruments play. i sing throughout the day, in my car and around the house. i sang to brooks during my pregnancy, and he seems to love singing and dancing.

jeremy and i have never been in choir together as a couple, so this has been a fun experience for us. i am enjoying watching him learn, hearing him sing, and talking together about the songs we sing. it's been a few years since i myself have been in choir, so feeling at home again through music is a welcome thing. our church isn't the most contemporary church i've been to, and it isn't quite as traditional as what i grew up in; i think it's a good mix of the two, with sincere people who enjoy praising the Lord.  i like the music we do, i'm enjoying learning new songs, and being in choir enhances my experience of worship.

but my favorite part are the windows.

at the front of our church, way up high, is a set of huge expansive windows. before joining the choir, i hadn't noticed the windows. when i'm in the congregation, the windows are behind and above me, but when i'm in the choir loft, they are directly in front of me. because we joined the choir in the winter, most sundays the weather has been cold, dreary, cloudy, and gray. many sundays, it's been raining or snowing. for me, it couldn't be more perfect. i've always loved the rain. cloudy days make me smile; i feel cozy, introspective, thoughtful. so when i sing of my Creator while looking at His beautiful, cloudy days out those huge windows, i can't help but smile. it reminds me of an old hymn that my dad used to sing during storms..."in the lightning flash across the sky, His mighty power i see. and i know if He can reign on high, His light can shine on me. i've seen it in the lightning, heard it in the thunder, and felt it in the rain. my Lord is near me all the time. my Lord is near me all the time."

music, singing, clouds, and rain. it's all home for my heart.

i was wrong

yeah, you heard me. i was wrong.

my husband was right.

it happens...

it all started a few months ago with a you tube video. we had been talking about painting our front door, but jeremy really wanted a stained wooden door, something we couldn't really afford. i took off that day for a few hours and came home to find my husband covered in dark brown stain. he was wearing a sad little face and looked exhausted. i prepared myself for the worst.

as he showed me the door, my internal critic went berzerk. the stain itself didn't look so bad. the color was great. he had tried to put a faux wood grain look into it (hence, the you tube video), and it wasn't awful either. but there had been some trouble getting things the way he wanted it...so there were layers and layers of thick gel stain. additionally, he had left the hardware on the door while he painted, so that had gel stain all over it too.

of course i didn't say all of this out loud. i think i actually said something worse. i'm sorry to say that my mouth got the better of me, and before i could recover from the fumes, i had hurt my sweet husband's feelings badly. he had worked so hard. we didn't speak for a couple of days, and then one glorious afternoon, he offered an olive branch: "wanna go to home depot and look for a new door?"

bless him. we found a door we liked but didn't really want to spend the money. on a lark, we decided to stop by the paint desk just to see if they had any suggestions for fixing what had happened during "the door incident". dan the man was working that day, the best painter ever to work at home depot, i'm sure. we showed him a picture of the door. he shook his head and started tsk, tsk-ing. as he led us down the aisle to our foreseeable doom, he started getting very excited. "here's what you're gonna do...you're gonna take this door outside, NOT IN THE HOUSE CAUSE THIS STUFF IS TOXIC, TOXIC!!, and you're gonna get you some sandpaper and you're gonna sand the $%&# out of this door. then you're gonna wipe it down and then sand the $%&# outta it again. and after you've wiped it down, sand the $%&# out of it again." i'm not exaggerating. this is verbatim. we were silent, in semi-shock, trying not to laugh, scared to death of what dan would do if we did! after about 20min. of instruction, we politely thanked him and scurried away. one look later, we dissolved into a fit of giggles and decided there was no way we were doing all that sanding. we went home to think on it and save up some money.

fast forward to now. it's been a few months, and the door is finally dry. the more i live with it, the less i hate it. in fact, i actually kind of like it now. it's grown on me. we took the hardware off yesterday and gave it all a good coat of oiled bronze spray paint. jeremy put it all back on today, and i have to say, it looks really good. like...really good!

so...i was wrong. and he was right. and i'm glad.