molded in my heart

Do you ever have moments where you feel like your kids are growing up so fast and you wonder if you've missed precious moments in the past and want to make sure you take in every moment that is to come? Sometimes I look at my kids and have no idea how they got to be as big as they are. When did they start walking, coming up with their own thoughts, and saying the cutest things? I had to stop reading a Mother's day card at Nathan's school today because I started to tear up. This is what happens to me when I read something that touches me. My heart aches, in a good way, and then I start to cry which makes me stop reading the card in order to stop the tears from coming. Usually this happens when Mike gives me a card, he is so good with his words. But today it was a little poem Nathan's teacher had posted in his Mother's day card. I read the first few lines and then had to put it down. Nathan looked at me with understanding, familiar that I cry sometimes when my heart if full and happy.

I miss you when we're not together
I'm growing up so fast
See how big I've gotten

Since you saw me last?
As I grow, I'll change a lot,
The years will fly right by.
You'll wonder how I grew so quick
When and where and why?
So look upon this hand print (they made a little molding of is handprint)
That's hanging on your wall.
And memories will come back of me,
When I was very small.

I want them to stay small forever! (not completely, but you know what I mean, right?) I want to remember the moments forever. I was looking at Stephen, my 1 year old, last night and trying to remember what Nathan was like at that age. It was hard for me to remember the details. Stephen says the word 'this' all the time, waves his arms around announcing he's all done, and is beginning to run (which is so entertaining to watch his stiff legs try to move quickly). In a few months, it will be different little moments that I treasure with him.


Grace hasn't been feeling 100% lately and is having a hard time falling asleep at night. I found myself asking her if she wanted a magic sleeping pill. She eagerly replied yes with a bit of hesitation not knowing what this meant. I asked her what color she wanted and then pulled out a pink pill from my pocket and asked her to stick her tongue out. She looked at my hand puzzled, not seeing a pill. I reassured her with a smile that this will help her to relax and go to sleep. She swallowed the pill and took a big gulp of imaginary juice as well. "It's in your tummy now and will help you rest." She was excited and snuggled further down into her blankets. I paused and realized this scenario seemed familiar. I realized my dad used to this with me. I had totally forgotten about the magic sleeping pill until this moment where I thought I was being creative and original with my daughter- funny how you can end up being like your parents even in the small things. Swallowing my sleeping pill from my daddy didn't seem that long ago. I remember it vividly. His strong presence at the end of my bed. His assurance that this would help. And the peace it brought me as he gently gave it to me. When did I grow up? This happens so fast. One day, Grace might be asking her daughter what color pill she wants and then gently tucking her sweet baby in to wish her a good night.

I love my kids so dearly. I say this often when I write and talk, but my heart does ache. It aches because I desperately want them to know how much I enjoy them, how I love hearing them talk, I love seeing them filled with joy, and I love spending my time with them. They are the dearest little pill swallowers I know. Like in the poem that Nathan's card said, I hope the memories will come back of when they were very small. Maybe I need to take a magical memory pill!  And just like his gift to me, I want these memories molded into my heart.

MOBs

Free entertainment....watching a 4 year old boy enjoy the screams of the girls he chases, pushing other boys to the ground, climbing to the highest part of the jungle gym only to jump off like he's spider man, and then is called over by his mother to have a talk. The mom stepped away from her 3 care free friends and looked down at her son. "I mean it. I've told you to stop. Now you need to stop. I'm really getting annoyed with you. Calm down." The boy could barely hold still while she said this. His limbs were litteraly flailing around like they were swatting at flies. She walked away (acutally he ran away first) and it took no longer than 10 seconds for him to go right back to what he was doing. I could look at this situation at the park and laugh (partly because my boy was at school; this was someone else's kid).

I can relate to this mom. I may not say those words to my 4 year old, but I have thought it. I think I'm like other MOBs (moms of boys). We wonder why they act the way they do. Is my boy normal? Am I doing something wrong? Shoud I be doing more, or less?  Boys love moving (all the time!), turning sticks into guns, and knocking down lamps in the middle of their super power jump. If you are a MOB you know what I'm talking about.

How do I celebrate his boyhood rather than being annoyed by it? How do I learn and value how he is wired rather than trying to tame him? The more I understand him and enjoy his boyness, the more I have affection for him and can laugh when he tries to do a wallflip and then plays dead. I like to study him. I'm learning what makes him giggle, his most desired dessert, closest friend, what provokes him, how he eats his food. Boys are special. I've always said that my boy is a boy's boy. No roses, only guns. He does love his capes, swords, and snakes, but he also loves his mommy. He can be tender towards his dramatic sister. He compliments his classmates. He shows compassion when his little brother falls. I tend to put his tenderness into the good boy category and his crazy energy and the things that go along with that, into a bad (or how do I calm him down) category. I am realizing they are both good. His tender hugs and his full blown attack of an innocent bug are both good. That is what makes him a boy, that is what makes him Nathan. I (want to) appreciate the noise, the dirt, the imagination. I love being a MOBs!

a spoonful of sugar

It begins when you are pregnant. You get advice from other moms whether you ask for it or not. I found most of it to be very helpful and out of a sense of care. There are so many decisions to make. Usually moms are eager to share their thoughts on hot topics such as, homeschooling vs public school, baby led vs parent led feeding, scheduling, vaccinations, and the list can go on. Everyone seems to passionate about their view and I too became one of these mommies.

After having my first son, I sought out advice from others I respected because being responsible for a baby was a bit scary; I wanted to do what was best for all of us. Now with three, I still need input from others (it takes a community to raise children, right?) but more than that, I am in desperate need of encouragement. I'm not talking about encouraging my 'performance' as a mom. I am talking about being spurred on to continue dedicating my life to my kids. To be reminded by other moms that it is hard but so worth it. That being a mommy is worth putting my love of teaching, tv shows, desired shopping expenses and vacations, time and sleep on hold because of my children.

After being a mommy for a few years, I realize I need to be encouraged more and more. I so badly want to do this for other moms. I don't want to brush over what the tired mom is saying so that I can suggest my solutions. I don't want to judge the mom who is unsure of how to address their screaming 2 year old daughter. I don't want to be quick to speak and give advice to the mom who is overwhelmed. Instead, I want to be quick to hug and cry with the mom who has a strong willed child. I want to ask questions to the mom who is discouraged. I want to support the mom who had an unexpected pregnancy or is struggling to get pregnant. Rather than promoting my own opinions or observations, I want to look for ways to encourage other moms.

Just a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down. Encouragement helps the advice go down, in the most delightful way. Rudolf Dreikurs said, "A child needs encouragement as much as a flower needs water." I agree. And I would add that his mother does as well.

saving the daylight

Daylight savings time is much easier for our household in the spring than in the fall. Pre-motherhood I hated this time of year; I lost an hour of sleep. But this year, I can't wait for my kids to wake up at 7:30am, according to the clock, instead of 6:30am. Yes, these few days of transition are a bit painful because I am still losing that hour of sleep, but it will be well worth it for the next six months!

Isn't that how motherhood is? Pregnancy is incredible in a lot of ways, but also very challenging. You know the charley horses, heartburn, backaches, body aches, and of course labor itself. It is painful, but totally worth it. Then once you have that precious little baby, it is the same story again. As a mother, I have cried, been exhausted, embarrassed, discouraged, lost, and at times hopeless. But still, I love being a mother and I love my children so much it hurts sometimes.

So, as I realized it was daylight savings this Sunday, I immediately thought about how that would affect me. When I was pregnant, I mostly thought about me and the baby inside me. As a mother, I think about what kind of mother I am and what others are thinking about my motherhood skills (or lack of skills). Are you seeing the trend here? It's about ME. I was reading a fantastic book and one of the things it mentioned was to teach your kids that life is not about them. It does not revolve around them. Life is bigger than them. And life is bigger than me. I also think it is bigger than me being a mother.

One day my kids will leave the house, and though I will always be their mother, I will not always be their number one gal. Being a mother is my career now and my great love. But it does not define all that I am or will be. I want to be a good friend who listens carefully and spends enough time with my friends to know how to encourage them. I want to know my neighbors by name and know how my family can serve them. I want to open my home to those who could use a home cooked meal and not worry that the house is not perfectly picked up. I want to learn how to be a better friend to my husband. …and on it goes…

In another 20 or 30 years, Lord willing, I will still be alive and will most likely be dreading the spring daylight savings because I will not have these little balls of energy bouncing in their rooms first thing in the morning. I hope I can look at the years past and reflect on how I have spent my time, who I have invested in, and that I have understood more and more that the world is not about Sarah. I want to have utilized each day for something bigger than me.

questions

A young 3 year old girl was running away from a 4 year old boy. She was running for dear life with a few head turns behind her to gauge where he was at. He had his arms up in the air and running full speed ahead to catch his prey. I wondered what he was going to do once he caught up with her. I also looked around the park to see if their parents were watching this and at all concerned about what could potentially happen next. He was older and bigger so he caught up to her and pushed her. She yelled (screamed really) and then proceeded to get away from him again. He thought it was funny and continued with this game. I think she finally realized she had to retaliate in order to get this boy to stop. No one else was going to help her. This little Laura Croft decided to use her book as a weapon and whacked him with all her might. Suddenly, this confident bully became a 4 year old boy again and began to cry and run to his mommy. He began to tattle on the girl as if she was completely unprovoked. The girl's mom quickly began to reprimand her. I could overhear her (ok, I was trying to listen) scold her daughter for being rough with the boy. Thankfully, Grace meandered right next to them (probably looking for food), so I had an excuse to go over to their blanket. I quietly told the mother what I had seen so that she knew more of the story and why her daughter was trying to defend herself. She thanked me several times and was pleased to hear her daughter was not being malicious.

What if I hadn't talked with the mother? Would she have punished her child because she was misinformed, angry, or embarrassed? Why didn't she ask her daughter what happened? Why didn't she ask any questions at all? I do this too. Sometimes it's with my kids but it's more common with Mike or other adults. I make assumptions, judgments, and evaluations and don't ask questions. I ask my youngens questions all day long. There are the common questions like: how was your day at school, why haven't you done your chore yet, did you hear me, how did poop get there? There are also more meaningful questions: did mommy sound angry with you, how can we pray for your friends today, or why are you sad?

Questions are so powerful because they can be so helpful. They cause me to slow down and think. They help me to gather information, which usually produces compassion. They can give me perspective. They can help me to think outside of myself. So why do I at times skip over the question asking and quickly give my opinion, disapproval, or praise?

I want to model this daily for my children. One of my favorite questions to ask my kids is how much I love them. I start by putting my thumb and index finger as close together as I can and ask, "This much?" They giggle and answer no! They put their arms as wide as they can and yell, "You love me this much." That's right. I love them that much. I want to love them enough to take the time to ask them questions and to be ready to hear their long or short answers.

payday

Getting my kids to bed can be one of the craziest times of the day, probably because we are all tired. Last night after baths and PJ's, I noticed a diaper that was just the slightest bit wet on the floor in the bathroom(yes, it is not out of the ordinary to find diapers laying around). I had given Nathan this diaper the night before when he was already in bed and we had company over. He said he had to go to the bathroom so bad he couldn't hold it. I've heard this before. It's very similar to- I need a drink or I forgot to brush my teeth. He had just gone potty about 10 minutes before so I knew he could hold any pee that he had somehow magically produced, he just couldn't hold his excitement of company being over. So I said if he had to go so badly he could go in the diaper I handed him. It was dry in the morning. I guess his magical pee magically disappeared. So why was it wet the following evening? "Mom, I peed in the diaper during quiet time today so I didn't wake you up. I knew you were taking a nap." I saw tenderness in my baby's eyes and thoughtfulness in his words. I went over to him with a few tears in my eyes, cupped his face and thanked him for how he had loved me. He beamed.

Once the two kids were asleep I brought Stephen down to play with us (we do this almost every night). He is such a relaxed kid that he is 14 months tomorrow and is still not walking. Well...last night he took his first few steps. There is nothing like seeing this tiny person lift his foot while the rest of his body looks like the Leaning Tower of Pisa. He knows I'm rooting for him. I'm clapping and yelping. His foot lands just in time for his hands to reach his daddy's arms when he lets his whole body fall into him. He squeals with excitement.

While tying my daughter's shoes this morning I could tell she was thinking and focusing on what I was doing. I ask her if she is ok. It isn't quite normal for her to be so quiet and still. She smiles a "Whitney" grin (a grin from ear to ear) and says, "I love you mom."

This afternoon, I tried taking Edgewater to pick up Nathan from school. I have been taking the back roads for the last few weeks because Edgewater is being repaved but today I decided to take my old route. I get stuck in a long line so decide to make a right turn into the neighborhood to only get stuck behind a slow moving truck just to find my road doesn't cut through. I must have made some sort of noise because Grace asked what was wrong. I told her I was frustrated with my decision. "It's ok mommy," she gently said with a smile to encourage me.

I don't get a paycheck for what I do. I don't get a job well done by my superior. I don't get acknowledgment from my coworkers. I don't get a pay raise. Usually I'm thanked by stickers, smiles, thank yous, and maybe a hug- with some needed prompting. When they happen on their own, it is a special moment. I got a raise today. I was tenderly cared for by my son, encouraged by my 2 year old, and saw a milestone accomplished by my little baby. I would call that a good day at work...I got payed today.

my hands are full

The clock says 10:26pm. Why am I awake when I could be sleeping? I dream about my cozy bed and being curled up asleep (or at least resting) all day long. As much as I may sound like a kid with a dollar in his hand in a candy store... because I can! The house is quiet, everyone is asleep (yes, even Michael) and I have the house completely to myself. I have freedom. It's almost like I'm on a mini unexpected vacation. I can watch the TV without any interruptions, read in silence, sit as long as I want, eat, or check facebook...who cares that I'm exhausted and can't keep my eyes open. I know these things might sound like normal freedoms to some of you but to a mother of 3 very young ones, it's hard to get some Sarah time during the day (or night). I complain often of being tired (and even blame Mike for keeping me up later than my preference) and needing more sleep. So shouldn't I take advantage of this time and GO to bed? At this time my hands are empty from responsibility and for that reason, I stay up just a little bit later.

When I go out with all three kids (which doesn’t happen very often-on purpose) I hear a common statement from people. Doesn't matter how old or young they are. They all say, "You have got your hands full." My sister and I laugh about this because it is without fail that we hear it. She has 2 kids. I wonder if people say that when you only have one. Cause they have their hands full too. Maybe it is because we look overwhelmed. Sometimes strangers say this with a big smile which I take as, 'You're doing good...keep it up....I know how hard it is.' Other times it is with some hesitation in their tone like 'Why did you have three kids so close in age? That’s a lot of work.'

Well, yes it’s a lot of work and yes I’m overwhelmed. But is that bad? As much as I love my 10:30pm vacations, I love knowing I have three precious souls upstairs (asleep!). It’s difficult to remember this at times when I am carrying Stephen (with my bad back) while literally running after Grace in the parking lot telling her to grab my hand as Nathan is running even further up ahead. I’m concerned about their safety but probably even more concerned about what all the other moms are thinking of me. This is when I wish I had four hands…two for carrying Stephen and two more for Nathan and Grace. Having my hands full is a great place to be. I know, it's not fun to have my two year old throw herself on the parking lot pavement in front of all the other parents at school but it’s ok. It’s ok because I love picking her up, carrying her flailing body to the van (shoving her in) and then hugging her. Loving her. Praying for her. Honestly, I struggle with the inconvenience, the lack of Sarah time, the constant sacrifice but I love them. I love them more than I love my 10:30pm Sarah vaca. Yes, four hands would be handier than two, but I’m thankful for my two hands that are able to love my three kids.

House Hunting

Hey Friends,

Mike and I are in the process of selling our home! We are supposed to close at the end of October. So we have been out looking at houses. It is fun to see the layout of the houses and how people live. We have never bought a house together before so this should be fun :) I know many of you out there have bought houses in the last 5 years or so. House hunting may still be fresh in your mind. Any suggestions? Anything we should or shouldn't look for? Anything you wished you had known before buying or moving in your home? I would love to hear your thoughts! Please!

baby see, baby do

I was relaxing on our couch with a glass of hot tea (yummy! if you put flavored cream in it). Because I was reading, I wasn’t paying too much attention to where I was placing my hand while reaching for my glass and the next thing I know the tea had spilled on the carpet, rug, couch and on a bunch of cord outlets. “ Oh shi%^" I accidentally said. The next thing I hear from my sweet 2 year old curly haired girl is, “Oh shi*^”, grinning from ear to ear. She was smiling with pride, not because she had any clue what either of us said, but because she loves acting like mommy.

My kids like to imitate me. If I wash the dishes, they like to use their soapy hands to scrub off their plates. If daddy is mowing the lawn, Nathan begs to go out with him just to be a part of what he is doing. They are always watching, listening, observing, assessing, and learning. I love it when I spill something (ya, spilling happens to me a lot) and Grace lovingly says, "That's ok mommy. That happens." I love it because I know what comes out of her mouth has a lot to do with what she has heard.

So what are my kids learning from me? I hope they are learning simple tasks like cleaning up after themselves, working hard, and eating healthy. Do these things really matter though? Although having quiet children at the dinner table or children who put their dirty clothes in the hamper are nice (and make life easier), is this what raising a child is about? When they are grown and think about what they learned from daddy and mommy, what do I want them to remember? What do I want them to see and feel each morning they wake up and what do I want them to hear again when their head hits the pillow? What am I doing to encourage or discourage these things from happening? Do I think about ways I can implement these things during the mundane hours of the day or am I just going through the motions (trying to survive these moments)?

One thing I love about watching my kids play is how much they enjoy life, especially the simplest things. They see a bird and squeal with delight because of its silly beak. They make up their own words and giggle with delight. They are amazed at the size of the construction equipment we drive past every day. This is when I want to imitate them. Enjoy life...laugh...notice the little things...be grateful. Mommy see, mommy do, right?!

4 years

I can't believe my son is four years old! Let me brag on him a bit... he is reading level 1 books, knows where some of the states are on his map, can recite his address, can tell you the president, is a natural leader, gentle with his brother, extremely social with everyone, is a daredevil and brave, brings so much joy to our family, loves to make people laugh and be a ham, is a singer and dancer, jumps around everywhere, and a precious gift to Mike and I. I can't imagine life without him.

We had a small pool party for him on Friday and then went to Disney with the James family on Saturday.

first day of school

I spent a good half hour or more training Nathan this morning on reoccurring areas where he tends to lose self control. “Whoa!” You might say. “That sounds a little bit like a drill sergeant. He’s only 3.” Let’s rewind my thoughts. Last night, I was reading a blog, which led me to another blog, and then another (you know how that goes, right? kinda like our thoughts). I ended up reading a blog about a certain parenting style and I went to bed wondering if I am not strict enough with my firstborn. But I am daily wondering if I am too strict with him. There lies the problem. I want him to be independent, creative, and think for himself. But I also want him to respect and love others, to listen to directions, and respond to correction. What is a mother to do? Is there something that I should be doing that I’m not? I have been weary lately. One thing that helps me in these times is to train. And train. And train my children some more.

I taught 5th grade before I stayed home laying around eating bom boms, doing nothing…just raising kids. I spent the first week of every school year, teaching and practicing all the rules and procedures of our classroom. They had to be taught step by step the expectations of them or how else could they be held accountable? Try telling 25 ten year olds to line up at the door. It would be chaos. Some would line up at the front door, some the back, a few would look around and see what others were doing, the boys would yell and race, some would ignore you and pick their noses, others complain. Now try it like this….when I tell you to line up at the door you will immediately stand up quietly, tuck in your chair, walk to your designated spot, and stand still. Watch me, I’ll show you how to do each of these steps. Now, let’s all practice. Good! Let’s practice again. The children weren't trying to be defiant, they just hadn't been taught. Lining up was one of the first things I taught each of my classes. I was petrified of taking 25 students down the hallway without giving them specific directions first. I knew if I didn’t it would be a disaster, not only for their safety but for my sanity.

So why should I expect my 3 year old to get into the van properly without repeated instruction? We have practiced many times before but he has had a difficult time lately. So, back to the first day of school. We reviewed each detail again about how we ask to exit the garage door (not run out the house door to open the garage door), walk straight to the van door (not touch all of daddy's dangerous tools), climb up (instead of running around the van) and keep our hands to ourselves (rather than hitting a sister), sit and buckle up (instead of climbing around). This training might sound silly and unnecessary. But it is a success when 3 kids are in the van without anyone's fingers getting pinched or heads bumped by yard tools and we have avoided any fights or tears. I LOVE teaching my kids!!! They LOVE practicing!!! So why don’t I do this more?

I find that when I’m getting upset with them, it helps all of us to stop, and do ‘first day of school procedures’ again. I think as a parent, I forget that I have been on this earth for a long time and know how to do simple tasks, like wash my hands. But have we taught our kids how to do this? How long, how much soap, how much water, can we smear soap on the mirror, can I splash water on my sister, can I get in the sink? Ok, these things will happen regardless if we teach them or not, because they are kids, and we will laugh (hopefully not yell). But what a wonderful opportunity we have each day to teach our kids. Teach and train them how to listen, care for their siblings, show compassion, pray for their friends, enjoy creation, and look for ways to encourage their daddy’s.

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.