Gratitude Day 3 - Waiting Room Therapy

"Hurry up, we're late again!" I said to Clara as we pulled in to the sports facility. She scrambled out of the car in her leotard and Ben trailed behind her, wearing his Taekwondo gi and carrying his reading homework. We dashed into the building just in time for her to join the line of other 4 and 5 year old girls entering the gym. I plopped down on a bench beside my friend, and exclaimed, "I actually made it before class started today. Yay, me!" She laughed and we settled into our catching up routine: Whose kids are sick? Whose week has been the busiest? How did that thing turn out? When are you leaving on your trip?

We talk about the little things (I tried a new recipe. I read a new book. I failed at my diet. Again.) and the not so little things (Clara falling behind in school. Guilt over not doing enough about it.) while occasionally nudging each other to watch something our daughters are doing in class.  And then before I know it the hour's over, and we're both dashing off to the next thing, tossing, "See you next week!", over our shoulders as out daughters embrace goodbye.  And I feel lighter.  Encouraged. Grateful.

And I am blessed to say I have a similar experience each week in another waiting room, on another night, with another dear friend. So tonight I am very thankful for these times each week. For these women who make me laugh and forget entirely to watch my girl do her activities.

The other day The Man said to me, "I thought Clara was supposed to have to choose between ballet or gymnastics. Why is she still taking both?"

"I know," I said, "but she just loves both of those classes."

And I do too.

Day 2 - Motherhood

I have four kids. I like to tell people that to see their reaction. Some people think I'm crazy. Some people think I must be a supermom. Which, if you know me, is pretty funny.  I am not a super mom. I am more like the opposite of a supermom. I forget important things. I lose my temper. I rarely have company because my house is always a mess. If I actually get everyone to school, on time, dressed appropriately, with everything they need, and without yelling, I feel as if I deserve a medal. (Or at least a salted caramel mocha. Seriously.)

So I have absolutely no idea why God blessed me with my heart's desire to have four children. I have friends, really, amazing mothers--mothers who have probably never sent their kids to school with peanut butter on a hotdog bun-- who have lost a child, or struggled for years with infertility.  Because of them, I never want to take for granted the gift I have been given in the opportunity to mother, however imperfectly,  these 4 unique people.

So, for day 2, I am thankful for my kids. Some days those four people were the whole reason I got out of bed in the morning. And some days they were the reason I didn't want to. But today? Today was just a good day to be a mama. Ally made All-State chorus, and I was reminded again how watching your child succeed is even sweeter than doing so yourself. The Littles, for the most part, were funny and sweet and even seemed to like each other. So thank you Lord today, for giving this not-so-supermom, some pretty super kids.

Thirty days of Gratitude, and so it begins. Again.

I haven't been here in a long time: this place I once called my own. I've missed it, pouring my heart out to the masses dozen. But I wasn't able to find a balance between what I wanted to share and a need to respect the privacy and safety of my children, especially as 3 of them are now old enough to read these words.

For now, I'm back. Permanently? Probably not, but at least for 30 days.

The holidays are coming. Ben said to me today, "Mom, it's only one month until December, the month you are grumpy all the time." He laughed but I cringed. It's a joke in our family how much I dislike Christmas. They like to bring me the Christmas ads that show up in September and watch me grimace and make hissing noises. But it's kind of sad, that I can't find anything positive about a season that supposed to be about love, and joy and hope. Especially when I am so abundantly blessed.

Last Christmas was awful. So many things were going catastrophically wrong in my life the last thing I wanted to do was celebrate. I made it through the holidays in survival mode. But survival mode is not the legacy I want to leave my children. And as much as I enjoy them, snarky comments about the holidays aren't either. The truth is I have more to be thankful for than I will ever deserve, so I am going to take the next 30 days to focus on that. I've done this before, in my blogging days, and focusing on my blessings was good therapy. And I am also going to try very hard not to complain to complain less about Christmas. Although I cannot be responsible for my actions during any Kay Jewelers commercials. I have my limits after all.

Today I am thankful for the unexpected cup of coffee delivered by a friend that gave me the energy to stay up and write this post. For the warm bed I am about to climb into. And for the absolute certainty that my sweet husband will come in shortly to kiss me goodnight.

Our Week in Pictures

Last Sunday we played in the snow...A monumental occasion here in Georgia.

Clara and I built a snow baby.

She loved it.


Monday the snow turned to ice so we were out of school. We had cabin fever so Beck inspired us to have a beach party.

It was awesome.
Wednesday I scored a dozen of these amazing roses for $3.99. It's true!

Friday, my oldest child turned seventeen. Which was fun, and sad, and bizarre. I managed to nab this one, solitary, shot before he dashed out to celebrate with his friends. His friends were there when I took this. The weird pose is for their benefit. We can't be taking our sentimental mothers too seriously now.


Saturday, Ben had his first soccer game. He loved it.He's number four. Like his age, he says.


And then Saturday night, although there are no pictures The Man took Brandon to the Atlanta Hawks game while the Weekids went to a birthday party and Allie and I went on a date. We saw The Shopaholic movie. Which was formulaic and silly but she loved it and it inspired quite a long discussion about proper spending habits and credit card debt.

Overall it was a great week. And looking back at it like this it's easy to see, my life is pretty darn amazing.

An interview with my two middle children...

What Allie (Age 12)and Ben (Age 4) think of their mom...

1. What is something mom always says to you?
Allie - "How was your day?"
Ben - "You watched enough TV"

2. What makes mom happy?
A - "Pink"
B - "Love, like kisses and hugs.

3. What makes mom sad?
A - "Whining Kids"
B - "When I do bad stuff"

4. How does your mom make you laugh?
A - "When she sticks her tongue out at me."
B - "She says funny things like, I'm going to give you lots of kisses!"

5. What was your mom like as a child?
A- "Nice"
B -"She liked books." (Very true, Ben)

6. How old is your mom?
A - 34
B - 13
(I'm 33)

7. How tall is your mom?
A - 5'9"
B - 50 degrees
(I'm 5'6")

8. What is her favorite thing to do?
A - "Sing Songs"
B - "Sit on the computer"

9. What does your mom do when you're not around?
A - "Play on the computer" Are we sensing a theme here?
B - "She plays with Clara"

10. If your mom becomes famous, what will it be for?
A - "Singing"
B - "What's famous?"

11. What is your mom really good at?
A - "Singing and Drawing and Writing"
B - "Watching Clara"

12. What is your mom not very good at?
A - "Sports"
B - "Doing Exercise"
(Both very true!)

13. What does your mom do for her job?
A - "Teach"
B - "Grocery Shopping"

14. What is your mom's favorite food?
A - "Chocolate" (Yes!)
B - "Macaroni" (Um, no.)

15. What makes you proud of your mom?
A - "That she's nice."
B - "When she listens to my questions"

16. If your mom were a cartoon character, who would she be?
A - "Um, A mix of different characters like Winnie the Pooh & Eeyore
B - "What?? I don't know what you're talking about."

17. What do you and your mom do together?
A - "Shop"
B - "Play Games"

18. How are you and your mom the same?
A - "We both like shopping."
B - "You have a red shirt and I have a red shirt"

19. How are you and your mom different?
A - I have blonde hair and my mom doesn't. (For the record I DO have blonde hair. I pay good money to get it that way.)
B - "You have brown eyes and I have blue eyes"

20. How do you know your mom loves you?
A - "Because she tells me."
B - "She gives me a lot of love and kisses."

21. Where is your mom's favorite place to go?
A - "Ann Taylor Loft and the park"
B - Publix (As in, the grocery store. This answer is incorrect.)

Worry

The thing about having a passel of kids is that at any given point I will be bogged down with worry about at least one of them. I guess it's possible that even if I had only one child, I would still fret constantly and by having four I simply have managed to spread my neuroses about. Ah well, at the least now they can qualify for group therapy. I hear it's cheaper.

For the last couple weeks the primary object of my worry has been Ben. Oh, not just Ben, of course. His two older siblings, just by nature of their ages regularly provide fodder for my angst. But Ben is the one who has been keeping me up at night. Some of his old nemeses that have refused for years to go quietly into the night have once again taken a front row seat in our lives. Any eating progress he may have made in the last two years seems to have virtually disappeared in the last six months. He has grown weary of the handful of table foods he would accept and his diet has returned to primarily crackers, applesauce and babyfood. Yes, babyfood. Just when we thought we were nearly free of the stuff, it's made it's way back onto the grocery list.

And I loathe it. The quiet embarrassment of defeat just at piling it into my cart, as if some acquaintance may happen by, forcing me to confess that the food is not for a baby at all, but for my almost 5-year-old. The glass jars lined up in rows on my kitchen counter. Dumping the sludge into the same tiny plastic bowls long ago stained orange like Ben himself was for years. Even his triumphant cries of "I ate it all, mom!" ring of failure. The failure of years of therapy and pleading, bribing and punishing that has somehow only managed to bring us right back to where we started.

And then there are other things. Smaller, probably even insignificant, things that seem large in the light of that one glaring failure. A sudden onslaught of bathroom related accidents- underwear and clothing found hidden or stuffed in the hamper. Handwriting that seems noticeably behind that of his classmates. Tears, still, every time we wash his hair. These things collectively giving me a nagging feeling that somehow we haven't done right by our sensitive, kindhearted boy.

Lately, he has taken to singing a new favorite song, "Kindergarten, my hearts on fire for Kindergarten" to the tune of Elvira. An adorably funny and happy song they are working for his preschool graduation. It cracks me up every time. But at the same time it makes my heart catch in my throat. Kindergarten. Next year, he is going to kindergarten. And I wonder if he is ready. I waver on this decision daily. Will he thrive outside of the comfort and familiarity of his tiny preschool? Will it help him to take the necessary steps forward or will it only make him more conscious of his differences? Will he become frustrated? Will he feel less?

Logically I know that this is just what we do. It's part of our wiring as mothers to worry about our children. I know that I was concerned about this step for the older two as well. I know that it is normal for us to wonder how how well we have done our part to prepare them, to fear that that it hasn't been enough, to wish for their success. Logically I know that to want to lock their hearts in a box to keep them from ever being stepped on is normal, but unhealthy and ultimately imposible.

Logically, I know that just because he doesn't eat doesn't mean he won't be just fine in school. That one thing doesn't in any way predicate the other.

I know these things. I say these things. My mind even believes them to be true. But, this mama's heart, it's just not convinced.

A Conversation with Ben

Ben has been on my mind a lot lately. I have a post started about that, which I hope to get up sometime this week. (Why is it such a struggle for me to actually finish a post anymore?) The other day I photographed Ben during one of our conversations. For once he didn't ham it up for the camera and I was able to just snap pictures while we talked. I don't remember what we were talking about exactly but I know he was trying to convince me of something. You can tell by the final shots that that he was disappointed with the outcome. I love how the pictures came out though, how his expressions changed just in the 2 minutes we were talking.










I can't help but wonder if any of these expressions will stick with him. If I look back at these pictures when he is an adult, will I recognize at all the man he has become in this little boy trying to get his way? Pouting aside, I kind of hope so. I'm pretty attached to him.