Memoirs of a Geezer

A few of today’s events…

A friend was telling me a year or two ago about how she found a used diaper in her diaper bag and wasn't quite sure how long it had been in there. "That will never happen to me! How gross." I can't tell you how many times that has happened to me since, today being one of them.

I try to teach my kids to clean up their toys and to help around the house. This seems like a good thing until I leave my glass cup full of water on the coffee table and I see my sweet two year old from across the room trying to be helpful. It wobbles in her hands and I can only guess that the water is reaching the rim. If I make any sudden movements or noise I know that will ensure a mess.

I put a load of clothes in the washer tonight because my little Stephen had thrown up. The washer was making an unknown rhythmic sound. I opened it up to find a plastic baseball on top of the sopping clothes. Oh ya, I do remember hearing something fall in there earlier today when I plopped down our pool bags on the dryer. I remember multitasking (more like multicrashing)in that moment... I'm trying to get Grace to go potty, remind Nathan to finish his lunch, hearing the phone ring, wanting to change out of my swim suite, needing to nurse Stephen, and throwing the wet clothes in the dryer...I make a note in my head... Sarah, don't forget to check what fell in the washer!" This evening, I grin while grabbing the ball out of the washer and remember my crazy afternoon. As I walk away feeling accomplished I had been Bob Vila, it made the noise again. Ok, something else must be wrong. Mike is outside working hard on his landscaping project (it’s looking real good!) and I call him in to take a look at this noisy washer. A second later he pulls his hand out with a sippy cup in it. oops.

I am intentionally delicate with how I place each foot on the floor as I approach my baby’s door. I stand there and listen. The crying has stopped. I slowly turn the knob and inch open the door. I am anticipating my angel sleeping and can’t wait to look at his little body relaxed. Instead, I am greeted by his puzzled face wondering why the door is creeping open followed by crying once again. Why did I have to check on him?


I am not trained in a traditional art. I am however, a master of changing a diaper in the dark and kissing a boo boo that has not left a mark. You know that old geezer that is quiet and sits back in his chair that goes with the flow and laughs at the odd things happening around him? He laughs at these kinds of moments- dirty diapers in the bottom of your bag, spilled water on the carpet that you just cleaned, sippy cups in washing machines. There are many opportunities for laughter each day with 3 kids and a mom like me.

what is it like to be miss congeniality

I think some of you will be familiar with this scenario (or maybe I am the only crazy one which is very plausible). I am strolling down the aisle at the grocery store, climbing the stairs at the gym, exiting the church doors, and I see someone I casually know but I pretend like I don't. I confess that I have passed an acquaintance without any sort of acknowledgment.

I know this doesn't happen to my outgoing husband (and son). He says hello to everyone...yes, everyone. So why do I do this? Am I being selfish and don't want to be bothered by people or do I just don't like the person? This is rare if ever the case. It's the exact opposite. I want to talk with them and acknowledge their presence (as Oprah would say). I want to be Miss Congeniality. But instead, in weird Sarahland, I look at my cell phone or attend to a child to look busy. What keeps me from saying hello or starting up a conversation?

I find that it is easy for me to approach some people easily and others I would pee in my pants while doing it. So why the two categories? Maybe fear of rejection... It seems I have made two categories of people in my head. One group intimidates me whereas I feel the other group is more approachable. So how do I distinguish which group people fall into? I think for me it has to do with their appearance and their confidence. The quiet person that doesn't seem to have many friends is much easier for me to approach then the outgoing, friendly person surrounded by people.

What is it like to be Miss Congeniality? I think she captures all opportunities to get to know others. She spends time hearing their stories. She is full of laughter. She looks for ways to care for others. She doesn't put people in categories. She has the freedom to be herself and invites others to get to know her as well. She makes a point to go out of her way to say hello to the acquaintance at the grocery store, gym, or church. I hope I continue to become more like this woman.

dads make a splash

Yesterday I was at the splash park with the kids. I'm surrounded by laughing, squealing, crying, splashing, you know...the normal sounds. Then I'm interrupted by an unknown sound. I look around to see if the kids are ok and where this noise was coming from. My concern quickly ceases when I see a dad trying to control a large beach ball on top of the squirting water. A case of man versus water. He was enjoying himself. Not sure where his kids were...I'm assuming he had some there and wasn't there by himself.

I chuckle when I see the dads at play. Being a stay at home mom, I typically see other moms at the parks. But, whenever there is a dad around, it will be known to everyone there. They play differently. Yes, that means louder, rougher, more daring activities, maybe a little unconventional.

Two weeks ago we were at another park. There was a man with his 1 year old son. He placed him in the swing and gave him a push. If he had been a woman, he probably would have continued to stay behind or in front of the child and push him at a safe speed and height, maybe sing a song, or tickle him as he gets closer. Guess what this dad was doing? Sitting on top of the baby swing next to his son, swinging as high as he could. He looked ridiculous...he obviously did not fit and was plainly having fun. I love it!

A few months ago, we took the family up to the community pool and there was a dad coaching his two sons on the techniques of water football. If a kid whined he yelped "you're fine son, this is how you need to do it." The son respectfully responded and continued to have fun. I remember thinking something judgemental like "he should talk softer to his kids." I think my issue was that he wasn't talking to them like I would. This is exactly the point.

I need to enjoy how my husband plays with our kids. I married a man, now I shouldn't get angry when he continues to act like one. Ya, I confess, I do turn my face when my man throws my 5 month old several feet into the air. Is that how I play with him? No...but that is what I love...about my man!

the color green

I was probably 10 or so and my family was in northern Michigan (halla! that's where I'm from) waiting for the boat to take us to Mackinaw Island. If you haven't been there, which I suspect most of you haven't, it is a beautiful island where only feet, horses, and bikes are allowed on the street. They are famous for their fudge and hotels (where Somewhere In Time was filmed). So I suppose the average, or normal kid, would feel excitement, anticipation, and joy that they are on vacation with family. But leave it to Sarah to feel differently. On the contrary, I was worried about what the boat would be like, where we would sit, was it safe, who we would sit next too, did we pay for it, etc. Not joy but distress. Not anticipation but doubt. Not peace but agitation. And this was how many years ago?

This is how I thought in high school... I would mentally brace myself for the next upcoming event that I was afraid of. Once one 'trial' was completed, I would think about the next one and prepare for it. If I focused on only one of my fears, then it wasn't too overwhelming for me. This is how I coped. Why didn't I think about all the millions of things I could be grateful for? I never even thought of it. It is how my brain operated and I never fought against those thoughts. As an adult, I find that it is the air I breath. Probably because I have practiced living this way since before I can remember. I am a fearful person, I see the possible bad, I tense up in new situations. The result? Well, I'm probably not that much fun to be around and I don't feel free to be myself.

It is time I start practicing a new MO. One that fills my mind with thankfulness, not fear. I am making a conscious effort to set time aside each day to be thankful. Yes, this might sound juvenile or programmed, but who cares (did I just write who cares! wow! progress already). I think it takes a conscious effort to change habits. So three times a day while I prepare meals for my little loved ones, I am thanking God for the people and things around me.

I was on the porch yesterday and found myself being grateful for the color green. I really was thoroughly enjoying the leaves. The color was so vibrant and agreeable. Each stem placed carefully on the branch. Each one a little different from the next. Then the wind blew and it brought relief from the heat and provided entertainment as each tree swayed like they were waltzing with each other. Then I stepped back from my thoughts and chuckled. I was thanking God for His creation...yes, the color green. OH MY! It felt like a huge world had opened up. I could be thankful for the birds chirping, or my house right behind me, or the kids taking a nap, or that my husband would be home in a few hours....you see the point, endless! I'm excited to reboot my mind and start downloading (or is it uploading?)these thankful thoughts. To be aware of what surrounds me. To thank God for what He has given me.

slept like a baby

This is how I found little Grace when doing my evening rounds. That's right....she's standing up.

freedom dance

I was driving south in the van on I95 with my 3 children in the car last week. We had some sort of children's CD on to keep them entertained. I bust out in song and dance all while making sure my foot stayepd on the peddle and there was no danger in taking my hands of the wheel for a moment. I don't think you could really call this a dance. I was pumping my arms in the air and moving my head from right to left. Nonetheless, it was fun. It was fun not only because my kids enjoyed watching mommy act this way but it was freeing. To act totally silly, with no reservations, and know that I won't be rejected by my kids. No, not rejected, but praised. They loved it. I love that I can be completely myself around them. I can pick my nose; although I don't want them to imitate me. I can do a crazy Sarah dance and not be worried that they think I'm kooky. I can pray out loud without worryig if I sound spiritual enough. I can try to harmonize to the music without them knowing I am way off key.

And don't you find that when you see other people doing their freedom dance, or whatever it may be, that you enjoy it? When you see the car in front of you shaking a bit at a red light because the driver is really enjoying their music and doing their little groove, you watch and laugh. Nathan and I have been so entertained at red lights while watching the people on a street corner holding a sign, listening to their IPOD, trying to get our attention to buy something. And what are they doing....dancing! Usually they look pretty funny! And we laugh and talk about it all the way home.

Isn't this one of the reasons we enjoy children? They do crazy things that us refined adults don't do anymore. Now I'm not suggesting I should run around the house in my underwear like my little Gracie Bell (although that does sound like fun) but I am wondering what would happen if I let loose and do a 'freedom dance' around others. Ok, I won't scare anyone and go that crazy, but watch out, I may just act a little more like my kids.

no pain no gain

I'm seeing a pattern in life. I'm sure it's not found only in Sarah's life but in all of ours. I'm sure it has been an ongoing pattern since I was a girl. And I'm sure it is for my good.

I'm potty training the cutest two year old girl, Grace. She has actually taken the initiative herself. "Mommy, can I go potty?" and I heard myself say "No, not now." What?!!! What was I thinking? That's like telling a student not to do their homework or a graduate not to get a job. I needed to seize this opportunity or I may not get it back for awhile. Why did I say no? Because it doesn't mean a one time session of training and dry underwear from here on out. It means interrupting Stephen's feedings to help her pull down her Mini Mouse underwear. It means dribbled pee on the bathroom floor and on the bottom of toddler feet. It means pouring more laundry detergent in our washer and scooting around folded laundry on the couches. It means remembering to put her on the potty every hour or so with everything else going on.

My New Year's resolution is to be more respectful to my wonderful husband. I usually don't even make New Year's resolutions or if I do I forget what they are by the end of the first week. For some reason, this one has stuck with me. Specifically, I'm wanting to be kind with my words. I am the meanest and harshest with the person I love the most. I've gotten so comfortable with him that I forget to be slow to speak, quick to listen. So I want to speak respectfully, gently, and humbly. And when I forget to tame my tongue, I've realized I struggle with apologizing quickly. WHY IS THIS SO HARD FOR ME? What is the big deal in saying I did/said this wrong and this is what I should have done/said. I know I'm wrong, he knows I'm wrong, anyone who heard me knows I'm wrong but taking that next step to verbalize my regret kills me.

Last example that has been on my mind...growing herbs. For the last year, (maybe even longer) I've been telling my friend Diana and Tiff that I want to plant some herbs. Since having these conversations with them, they have done this and moved on to bigger and better (lemon trees and peppers, etc) But have I planted anything in a pot yet? Nope. This requires me to get the pots, planting soil, seeds, and do a bit of research. I know it won't take me very long. In fact, to be completely honest, I already have the pots and planting soil. I just have to get the herbs. It is one of those things I think about when I walk past the pots in the garage.

Once Grace is potty trained, it means more money in our budget, fresh bottoms, and a little pony tailed girl running around proud of herself. Once I can humble myself and apologize to my husband, it means being able to really love my husband in a new way. It means being more vulnerable with him and honoring him, which I know will affect our friendship. Once I go to Lowe's to buy seeds, it means cheaper and fresher produce in the convenience of my own back yard. So here lies the pattern. I know the phrase 'no pain no gain.' I guess I'm just starting to not only recognize it in my life, but be grateful for it.

If only I had the birds and mice

Do you remember that scene from Cinderella when the birds and mice make Cinderella's beautiful gown in the upstairs room? They communicate in animal squeels, the birds use their beaks to place the ribbons carefuly on her dress, and the mice yell 'heave ho' in unison to lift a shoe. They work together, thinking of every detail and make it look fun and easy.

My sister and I were talking the other day about being efficient with our time. How do you take care of children, keep house, prepare AND clean up meals, all in preperation to feel pretty when your hubby walks in that door? I'm always wondering how clean a house should be. When I go into a messy house, I'm ashamed to say I feel better about my cleaning skills. If I go into an immaculate house I feel like I do at a museum...afraid to get comfortable. So where is the balance? Last year I actually checked out 10 or more books from the library on how to clean your home (if any old roomates read this, I know they would be laughing). There are a few things I have found helpful like beginning dinner at lunch time while the kids are on lock down, make double of dinner and put one in the freezer, clean as I go, give the children room time in the mornings after breakfast, and pickup different rooms at certain times in the day.

So why do I write this? Because I think most stay at home moms want the singing birds and mice to magicaly appear to get a few chores done. But since we aren't living in Disneyland I'd love to hear what works for you. Do you have any little or big tricks that help you get your work done?

thoughts while washing the dishes...

The kids were all in their rooms this afternoon and I was just left with soap, water, a pile of dishes (I made a new dish.. chicken mac n cheese -thanks Cristina!), and my random, wandering thoughts. Not sure how I ended up here but I began to think of those memorable conversations I've had with those that have answered the questions "What have you learned in life? What advice do you have for me?"

I love to ask those that have gone before me about their regrets, advice, etc. Before you get married you might ask a married person if they have any wisdom to impart. Same goes for when you get pregnant or if you are choosing a career, etc. Some of those words have stuck with me and I think of them often.

Today, while trying to keep my shirt dry (don't know why but I seem to get dirty while trying to keep my dishes clean) I was remembering our rehearsal dinner when we asked people to talk to the camera for a minute and share anything that might help a newly wed couple out. I still remember my aunt saying "don't sweat the small stuff. It doesn't matter." I understood what she meant at the age of 25. I thought something prideful like "ya I know that already." But now I get it...I really get it. After 5 years of marriage it really doesn't matter who is right. And even if I am right, that's not what it's all about, you know? And hopefully in another 5 years, I'll get it even more.

I remember asking another aunt who has 1 college aged girl and one HS son if she wished she had done anything different with raising her kids. She stopped cutting the vegetables and looked at me with her full attention. "Sarah, I wished I had stopped what I was doing and played with them. You know when they ask 'Mommy, come play!' I wished I had gotten on the floor with them more often to enjoy what they were doing. I wished I had captured those moments and had savored them." I remember this at least weekly. So...when I hear those words, I try not to say "wait a minute, or hang on a sec, or not now, mommy is busy." There will be a day when they aren't asking me to sit on the floor and play with Thomas the Train, or to look at the squirrel on our neighbor's roof, or twirl around in circles and fall to the ground with laughter.

I remember sitting down next to Grandma and asked what she has learned in life. I remember waiting those few seconds wondering what 80+ years of life would say. She took my hand, and with a gentle voice explained how following Jesus was and is the only thing that matters.

These are only a few examples but these are the ones that run through my mind the most. Just another weird 'Sarah tradition'....but one that has been invaluable.

Grace is 2

a glimpse

This is nothing out of the ordinary, a normal routine of ours. We are at the breakfast table awaiting the noise of the garbage truck. As he gets closer the kids squeal with anticipation and eagerly ask (demand) with loud voices, "Can I get down, I want to see!" I act silly and frantic while trying to get them out of their chairs and run crazily to the living room with them. They both run as fast as they can to the window in the front of the house. The garbage truck pulls in front of our house and they scream and holler and point and yell and jump up and down and announce that he has arrived. The garbage truck moves on to our neighbors house and Nathan runs to the other window to get a better look. I actually hear him pant like a dog with excitement. Grace waddles with her arms flayling in the air just trying to keep up with her brother.

All for a garbage truck. Not sure why this event is so special to them every Tuesday and Friday morning but it has become a special ritual for me to sit back and watch them enjoy something so simple and mundane as picking up the garbage. It's funny how much joy it brings me to see them having so much fun. I think this little glimpse into our day could be over looked as I'm sure I overlook many other opportunities to delight in my kids. So...4 day count down until Tuesday morning.

Reality

So...I've always wanted to be a mother and have always loved children whether it be babies, my 5th graders, even middle schoolers. I grew up walking around church as a girl looking for mothers who would offer their baby to me. My mom laughs as she recalls me having a baby in each arm. I may have had a few running thoughts of what it would be like to be a mom...playing filled with laughter, getting hugs and kisses, hearing "I love you mommy" or "thanks mom, you're the best." And although this dream does become a reality here and there, being a mother of a 3 year old, almost 2 year old, and a 5 week old looks a little different. My days are filled with the same 100 words, trying to avoid getting poop on my hands, making my 1,000th PB&J, cleaning the same dishes, and trying to fit a shower somewhere in all the mix.

I can't believe how busy it is taking care of 3 little ones. And although I'm exhausted every night (and morning and day), I wouldn't change my life for anything. I love my reality. To be honest, I don't love all the sacrificial work but I do love these 3 kids.

Tonight, I was siting on the floor in Grace's room playing with her new kitchen set(thank you Aunt Erin). We poured tea for each one of her babies and asked if they wanted sugar. We burped each one of their backs gently and then gave them baths. Then we gave each one of them dinner and Grace made sure that we washed their hands. I don't know if there was a smile on my face (probably because I was too tired) but there was a smile in my heart. What joy it is to see your daughter filled with life, wanting to learn, and passing on all the mundane chores I do with her during the day to her babies. She rocked them with care and kissed them goodnight.

Reality has been challenging these last 5 weeks since Stephen has been born. It is a lot of work but moments like these make it a joy.