52 Weeks of 2013 - Week 25

I'm a great Mom! Ok so some days I do way better than others, but I always turn the beaters off and whoever has helped, gets to lick a spoon. In my kids' eyes that makes me fabulous, everybody wins.

My kids all love to help in the kitchen and while it is often much harder to have the 'help' than to just get the job done quickly and easily, I love that they enjoy it so much. Of course my younger-mom-self had a lovely romanticized view of what cooking with kids would be, how fun and playful, yet of course a perfect learning opportunity, with measuring and math and yummy results.

The reality was that all three kids wanted to help, there would be the inevitable squabbles, spills and mess, while I would try to pretend to be having the fun I so desperately wanted to be having, inwardly (maybe, sometimes outwardly, I'm ashamed to admit) frustrated and impatient. Yes, cooking with an eighteen month old was hard work.

Now, however the kids are older. It's amazing what a difference it makes. I also, after moving to our much smaller quarters, implemented the rule that only one child could cook with me at a time. They get one on one time and attention, there's nobody else to fight with, they feel much more responsible and accomplished and most importantly, I get to be much calmer and can actually enjoy the process again.

Last week, my youngest and I baked 3 dozen oatmeal chocolate chip muffins to take to her brother's class for an event. She did great, I did great, the muffins turned out great!

Don't give up if you've tried to involve your kiddo and it seemed too hard. I promise it gets easier the older they get and the more often they're allowed to help. You can do it!

52 Weeks of 2013 - Week 24

How many of us as adults live a life of adventure and taking risks and exploring and having fun?

How many adults do you know with scraped up knees? Even symbolically?

I attended a photography seminar last week that left my mind and emotions reeling as I try to process it all. Something awoke within me and resonated so deeply. I know it is part of the creative process. I know that it is something that God is stirring, I feel it in my spirit.

We all start out with that sense of adventure, we are made to explore and grow daily, these are major accomplishments. As a child you are not judged for how you look or sound, you are accepted and encouraged, you are a success.

Somehow in our growing up, many of us set aside what comes naturally, the things that excite us, we set aside dreams. Maybe it is because of a lack of confidence, or because of a sense of responsibility. The dream just doesn't seem possible and so, instead, we start to do what is easier, or seems logical or just achievable.

Is there still, deep inside of us, though, that child buried beneath the responsibility of adulthood? Do we ever really grow up or do we just adapt to the expectations of others? Of our society? We learn to stay within the lines, drawn by somebody else.

Do you ever just feel like a child disguised as an adult? Is there something inside waiting to break free? That others have pushed down? That maybe you have squashed?

What if there is more? What if we truly lived every day? Not just being a cog in the machine, but with a freedom and a purpose. To each day know that you made a difference in the life of somebody else, no matter how small. To know that you really connected and were feeling.

Most of you reading this are adults and we do have responsibilities. Don't get me wrong and abandon your kids to go live your adventure, but hear me when I say it is about our outlook and our motivation. Take a step back and re-evaluate what you are doing and why. Maybe it is time to make some changes, maybe it is time to re-visit an old dream or maybe you just need to give yourself permission to dream again?

Happy Father's Day!

It was ten Father's Days ago that I slipped a Father's Day card onto my husband's music stand at church. I had waited until that morning, after he had left, to take the test, wanting to surprise him on that day of all days, if it was positive. It was!

He opened it and at first was confused, thinking somebody had maybe not realized we had miscarried months before, then he saw that I was the one who had signed it. I huge grin lit up his face and when he got to stand with all of the other fathers to be recognized, we were announcing it to everyone.

He was ready to be a father long before he met me, he has so much love to give! Yet he waited patiently, for seven years in fact, until I was ready to finally be a mother, to realize his own dream. He is the most wonderful father I could ever ask for for my children, I love to watch as he builds them up, from the inside out, instilling confidence as only a father can. They know without a doubt that they are loved and important!

To my husband, I love you immeasurably and am so grateful for all that you do for us. You continually amaze me. I love you!

Happy Father's Day.

52 Weeks of 2013 - Week 23

It's not easy being the middle child; not the baby, not the older responsible one. Throw in being tired and having a long day at school and all of a sudden life can seem SO hard. When a strong willed, middle child feels hard done by, or even wronged, it can sometimes lead to storming off, or even a little fit, of sorts.

Sometimes a mother, who is just as tired, has very low tolerance for such antics and is happy to let said child spend time on her own in her room. Thankfully though, there is a wonderful daddy who can recognize that maybe that same child actually just needs a bit of extra attention and one-on-one time and all of a sudden the joy and laughter is restored.

I am so grateful for a husband who does not see things as black-and-white as I do, who has compassion and grace for his children, in different ways than I. I am grateful too, for this daughter who holds so much promise and really does bring so much happiness to our home.

It was wonderful to walk in and see this sight and just step back and be able to document it.

52 Weeks of 2013 - Week 22

Sigh! I feel the time slipping away again. On Friday I took my youngest to visit kindergarten. We walked down to the school together, hand in hand, her little fingers clasped around mine and I squeezed a little tighter. We are moving on again. Entering a new season. Truth be told though, I don't feel ready.

Why does growing up have to be so bittersweet? I am so proud of all they are accomplishing and who they are becoming, but I miss, already, so much. The chubby arms reaching up to be carried, the cries for help, the 'Mommy, watch me!' I am moving from the doing it all for them, to the encouraging and cheering on. I hope to do it gracefully, but I can't promise that you won't find me sobbing uncontrollably after I drop her off to kindergarten for her first day this fall!

I will always be their mother, I will always be there for them holding their hearts and I will cherish these days that we are still holding hands more than they will ever know.