being human and drinking my cup of coffee

I’m occasionally asked as a guest in a home, “Do you drink coffee?” I know they are expecting a quick yes or no reply. But I feel the need to give a short essay response. Do I enjoy coffee? Totally! I really believe drinking coffee is an experience. I love how it makes me feel. It warms my hands, my throat and my heart. Coffee takes time to make and to drink; it slows me down.  It reminds me to enjoy the simple things like the smell of coffee beans and the warmth of a mug between your hands.  But I try to limit how much I drink to a few times a week.  I fear I'll have to drink a cup to get rid of a headache.  Instead, I want to keep it something special.

I wonder if my interaction with coffee is similar to how I engage with people.   Having some connection with another person is like mints to Stephen, necessary.   Just look at children.  They demand attention, care, motivation, acceptance.  They will repeat the same sentence until there is some acknowledgment that they have been heard. One of my kids was throwing a huge tantrum (yes, my kids throw tantrums)…yelling, running away from me, the whole nine yards. Thankfully we were at home where I was able to focus on him.  Once I got him in his room, I looked at him and said 3 words,” I love you”, and invited him to sit with me. When he heard those words, he settled down enough to see that I was not the enemy and came and sat in my lap.  He told me his heartache and explanation for his anger. I looked in his eyes as he spoke and really tried to put myself in his story and felt  what he was feeling right along with him.  That’s all it took.  He felt heard. He felt like he mattered.  His words meant something.  He meant something.

I see how much we need interaction and connectedness.  I don't think we ever grow out of this.   A dear friend of mine said something recently that I thought was profound and insightful. She said, “I never knew how lonely being a mom was going to be.”  I think that is the case for many of us.  We can’t sit on our kids’ laps and start asking them to care for us.  When do we find the time as caregivers to be on the recipient end of things?  I think we all know we need true, honest interactions, especially mothers. I need to feel I'm not alone. To know that my children aren't the only ones that yell at me in public, are picky eaters, pee on the floor when they had already been potty trained for 3 months, to feel like every morning is Groundhogs day, to wonder if I'm missing out on something bigger and better while staying at home changing a diaper.   So why don't we share these things with others? Maybe business or laziness…but I would be willing to bet that it’s more like my coffee.   I am afraid that if I drink too much, too fast, too often I will get hurt or have negative consequences.   Sitting down with someone not only takes time, but it takes vulnerability.  It’s a risk. Would they care about me enough to really listen and understand me? Or would they just try to fix the situation, or worse, fix me? Would they think I was weird and judge me?  Would they hear my junk and still accept me?

Sometimes I'm afraid to allow myself to feel.  This takes away from me really being in the moment and enjoying the ‘good’ times.  For some reason, I think that if I stay leveled out and don’t get really really happy or feel joy, that when something bad happens, I won’t really feel pain or disappointment (not all the time of course).  I have no control over what will happen to me-good or bad but I do think it's a way to protect myself.   And if something bad is going to happen, pain can't be avoided, even if I successfully try to level out my feelings.  The sad thing is that I may be missing out on feeling joy and happiness when I’m given those times. And often, the bad times produce the best times.

I'm starting to let myself completely feel.  What if when something wonderful happened, I could soak it in for all it’s worth. Yesterday, my little 3 year old boy asked if he could hug me because he saw a tear in my eye.  I loved accepting  his love and care for me.  It meant something to both of us.  What would happen if I stopped ignoring or masking pain by eating brownie batter and watching my favorite guilty pleasure on tv (ok, I don't think I'll ever stop doing that!). So I’m challenging myself  to really feel, whether it is positive or negative, but even more so, to share that with someone else.   To go to someone I trust and open my heart up and ask them to listen to me.

Being simply human doesn't always seem to be that simple.  It means feeling... joy, pain, risk, disappointment, sacrifice, acceptance, embrace, understanding, forgiveness.  It means being vulnerable.  What are we missing out on if we don’t allow ourselves to feel these things? What are we missing out on if we don’t share our thoughts with someone else? How does this affect our children?  We were created to be loved and to love others because the one that created us, loved and loves us.

So I say …go grab a caramel macchiato with whipped cream (and a good friend)! 

dress up

 I recently saw a TED talk and a very attractive woman came onto the stage in a fitted, black, short dress.  I immediately made opinions (yes, maybe even some judgments) about her. I wondered how well spoken she'd be, thought she was pretty, and wondered why she was wearing such a short dress for an educational talk like this.  She proceeded to talk while at the same time pulled a sweater over her head, grabbed her beautiful long dark hair into a ponytail and put on one of those wrap- around skirts that hang to the ankles. My thoughts of her immediately changed. She seemed more approachable, normal, less intimidating, and I took her more seriously.  Honestly, sharing my thoughts about the Ted woman is a little embarrassing . I guess I'm ashamed at how quickly I can make assumptions about someone based on how they look.

Here are some of my thoughts lately...why do women critique each other so harshly?   Can I appreciate someone else's beauty without making it about myself or comparing them to myself?  Can I look at a cute outfit and not envy it? Can I look at a pretty mom and assume she is nice, caring, and compassionate as well?   Can I not make assumptions about women's motives? 

When I was a little girl my mom said that I wore dresses everyday because that's all I wanted to wear. No pants or shorts for me.  I loved to twirl, prance, and enjoyed the flowiness (I know that's not a word) of the fabric.  My little Grace changes her outfit at least once a day, sometimes up to 5. That makes for a lot of laundry.  She loves how she feels in different clothes. It's a game to her; I don't believe it's her being materialistic, building her self esteem, or trying to impress anyone. Dressing up is pure joy for her.  The more I am Sarah, the more I'm wearing makeup, putting on a fun shirt and curling my hair. I haven't changed much since I was a little girl. I still like to play dress up. So the other night I put my heels on, slapped some makeup on, pulled my hair to a low side ponytail, and latched a big ol' necklace on my neck.  I actually took the necklace off later in the night because it was too heavy (probably time to donate it to Grace).  My friend and I ended up going to the Dandelion café. Ya, the name explains it enough. This was not a fine dinning experience. I wore heals and a 5 pound necklace so that I could go out and order tea and it was fun!

Staring at my clothes in the closet is more than just figuring what I'm in the mood to wear (I think it's that simple for guys).  My unspoken rule plays in my head: look nice, but not too nice.  If I'm too dressy then others might wonder why I'm trying so hard. I might get one of those comments about what I'm wearing that make me uncomfortable- a questionable compliment.   If I'm too simple I feel frumpy.  There was definitely a season that brushing my teeth and getting a shower was success.  But now that I have a teeny bit more time to get ready I like to cover up my sleepy eyes with makeup once in a while and pretend I had a good nights sleep.  If I were to dress for only me, I'd probably dress differently. I'd probably do funkier makeup sometimes and wear crazy jewelry (ha, maybe some of you already think I do!).  But when I put on an outfit, more often than not at some point I think about how I will come across or what other women might think of me. I know that if I put on my makeup and some heels, that I might get some looks.


If I spend some time getting ready, it could be because I'm materialistic, it could be because I'm finding my identity or worth in how I look, it could be I'm trying to stand out and get attention. But it doesn't have to be those things for me or for someone else. I have to take a look at my heart to search my motives.  God's creation is beautiful. I truly believe His most beautiful creation of all is women (sorry Mike).  I'm beautiful because He made me in His image, period.  So I can put on that black and white dress I've been wanting to wear for a long time (someone invite me to a wedding) and I'm beautiful. I can put on  my pajamas and I am beautiful. My worth and other women's worth isn't what they put on, it's who they are.

I want to be more like my 4 year old, Grace. She dresses for herself. She dresses to express herself.  She is uninhibited by what others think of her outfit.  She does not judge others for what they are wearing or not wearing. I wouldn't be surprised if Grace and I will be enjoying dress up for many years to come!


Here's the link to that Ted talk if you're interested.
 http://www.ted.com/talks/cameron_russell_looks_aren_t_everything_believe_me_i_m_a_model.html

What's the point...

In one sense, my job is pretty easy. I cook, clean up, play with kids, etc.  I'm not working on algorithms for some electro-optic device for a helicopter (this is what Mike does, at least I think that is what he does), or saving people's lives, or designing buildings.  Once in a great while, I wonder what is the point of what I do all day. I know it is to meet the needs of my kids, not only physically but also spiritually and emotionally as well.  I also sometimes wonder what it's like being one of my children. What is it like for them to grow up in our house? What is it like having me as a mommy?  What will they remember from their early childhood days?  I have random memories growing up like my white dresser that I shared with my sister, jumping from my bed to my sister's bed so that my feet didn't touch the floor (because we convinced ourselves that if our feet didn't touch the floor then we wouldn't be disobeying mom who said to stay in bed), and trying to ice skate on a ¼ inch sheet of ice in our back yard (ya, that usually didn't work so well).


Stephen is my caring, compassionate, verbal, carefree boy. Yesterday, he kept talking about our alarm system all morning. He was pointing at the keypad on the wall and saying something that only he understood. Next thing I know Stephen was carrying a wooden kid's chair out of the playroom into the hallway and headed for the keypad.  In the middle of me telling him he had to put the chair back in the playroom, he started to cry. This wasn't a cry that came from being told no. This was a cry for help!  My poor little 2 year old was carrying a chair bigger than he was and he didn't know how to put it down. So he was standing there crying hoping he wouldn't drop it on his feet. Of course I quickly went over to him to relieve his weary arms and to take the chair from him. I even decided to put it back in the playroom for him so that he didn't need to stress any longer.  

And then there's my long haired, spunky, gregarious little girl. Grace loves her pink Hello Kitty bike. This morning was absolutely beautiful and she asked to go on a bike ride. Yes seemed like the only obvious answer. She can hold her own pretty well when she is on a flat sidewalk and when she approaches an uprooted, uneven sidewalk she is adamant about conquering it herself. Her little bike teeters but somehow she keeps that bike moving without a hitch. She can see her front wheel and is confident she can move forward, ready to tackle anything in her way. But what she fails to see is her two little white training wheels attached to each side of the back wheel. When she turns a corner, she is not looking at those training wheels to see if they are going to hit a curb, get stuck in a hole, or graze the grass. So I chose to walk behind her while pushing Stephen in the stroller, making sure those back wheels aren't going to cause her any harm.  She was and is completely unaware that I am faithfully watching her.

My job of being a nurse, counselor, referee, bouncer, judge, teacher, and entertainer will probably go unnoticed by my kids. Watching toes and training wheels seems like a small task. This is where I can feel, at times, that my job is menial.  But when I think about the reason why I'm watching out for little toes and bodies it gives me perspective, purpose, and a goal.  I'm protecting them. I'm watching out for them. I'm loving them.  Of course I desire some sort of memorable life changing conversation or event that I have with them where they have an awakening and appreciation for how much I love them. But I'm realizing that reality is that these life altering events are not the norm.  Instead, I can show them my love small moments like these.  Small moments like choosing to get off facebook when they are trying to talk to me, or snuggling with them during movie night, or playing their (annoying) Veggie Tales music in the van.   Or painting Grace's nails, even though it usually ends up being a mess and only lasts a few days. When I kiss their boo boos. When I try to understand how they are feeling. When I sacrifice what I want for them (which I fail at often). 

So what will my kids memories be when they are older?   What do I hope they remember? I hope they know they were and are loved. Not because of what they’ve achieved or how they behaved, but because they are mine.  They would know that mommy always had their back. Whether literally (like when Grace is leaning too far on her bike) or when they need me to hear them out about why they sneaked the chocolate egg from the cupboard.  I want them to know that mommy and daddy are on their side.  I am for them. I am cheering them on. So I'm encouraged today by all the little mundane and trivial things I do.  I see they aren't meaningless, they are (hopefully) loudly communicating love to my children.

Graceland

I wish I remember what it was like being a 4 year old girl. When I look at my daughter, I think it must have been pretty great.  Mike and I always chuckle because she is in her own world. She is in Graceland.  She prances around the house with her hands on her hips for no reason that I can see other than it is fun for her.  When I'm having a typical conversation with her she is literally jumping around in circles, flapping her hands at her sides, with a huge grin on her face.  When music comes on, she shakes her little tush and then glances up at me to see if I'm enjoying her (which I am!). She will repeat the same one or two words over and over again as she's trying to formulate her ideas and get the words out.  She talks with her hands like a preacher or a politician and with her intense faces tries to communicate how important it is that she plant the apple seed so that we can have an apple tree grow in our yard. She picks leaves on our walks and gently places them into bowls that she fills with water so that a flower can grow.

I can't get enough of this girl.  She asks God for the rain to stop so that we don't get wet (and when she has done this it has always stopped within a few minutes). When something falls to the floor and it doesn't break she declares, "Thank you God for keeping that safe!" When we go for bike rides she pedals her short legs all while singing her heart out, as we pass every house around the block.  When you ask how old she is now, she says fur.  I never knew the word four could sound so cute.  She notices all sorts of details. When we pulled into the garage today she noticed that one of our flowers was closing up (probably because it's so cold outside).  She reminds me to water my herbs and then pulls a little off to "have a little snack."  She has so much spirit and emotion wrapped up in her 4 year old body.

 As each one of my children get older, I see myself enjoying and valuing their uniqueness more each day. The older they get, the more their personality develops.  I love different things about each of my kids.  And one of the many things that I love about my fur year old is that she can go to Graceland and be completely satisfied and content. She is oblivious to what is going on around her but she's completely present in her world. Like I said, what a wonderful place to be!  I hear all the time that this time goes by so fast. So I'm looking for the little things that make Grace who she is.  She makes me smile all throughout the day because of what she says or does.  I'm waiting for the day when she invites me to take a trip to Graceland. I think I will say yes!

 

the mommy scale

 
I was in a long line at Aldi's. If you've ever been there before you know the line will move quickly. Even so, it was still a bit stressful because I had my 2 kids with me and a week's worth of groceries in my cart. At this point, Grace was walking next to me because the cart was full, which means she is no longer caged and contained. While I was waiting my turn, another lane opened. I began the mad rush of turning the cart quickly to wiggle my way into the adjacent lane. A very old, hunched over man with a cane, walked in front of me and took my spot. It wasn't fair. He hadn’t been waiting in line like I had. His timing just happened to be perfect. But I wasn't upset. He was an old man. I almost felt good to let the old guy go first. He only had one bag (at Aldi's you need to bring your own bags-you're right, it's not where shopping is a pleasure). He even had trouble lifting the heavy bag full of food onto the conveyer belt. By this point I'm glad the great grandpa cut in front of me; I was feeling pretty good about myself. By the time I had checked out and was walking out of the store, he had just walked up to the handicapped spot. I told you he moved very slowly. He walked up to a convertible Ferrari. What?!!! I thought this guy must be losing his mind. He must have forgotten which car was his. I expected he would be looking for an old Cadillac with his little silver haired wife waiting to drive him home. But no, he actually had the keys for this Ferrari. How would he drive being so hunched over? How can someone who can barely walk, drive this beautiful Ferrari? And then I thought why is someone who owns a Ferrari shopping at Aldi's? Sure enough he got into that beauty and drove off like it was just another normal shopping experience. I felt a little duped. This guy wasn't oblivious to cutting me off in line and stealing my rightly due spot. It's very possible he used his hunchback and crawl of a walk to get what he wanted. It gave me a good laugh.

I love nothing more than an honest person, even more so, an honest mom. There are times that I see a mom who seems to have all her ducks in a row. Everyone is listening, she looks pretty in her skinny jeans, her house is clean, and so on. But I'm not duped like I was by the old man. As a mom myself, I put pressure on myself to be this perfect mom that I have somehow imagined in my head. Not only do I want to still look like a woman (hair brushed and maybe something cute to wear) but I want to have the perfect relationship with my kids where they respect me but also enjoy and trust me. Give me the "How to be a Perfect Mom" pamphlet and I'll follow it. And probably even more so, I want others around me to think I'm doing a pretty good job.

It is always refreshing to me when I see a mom having a difficult time. Not in some morbid way. For her sake, I hope she's ok. But for my sake, it reminds me that no one is perfect. That being a mom is really hard. I love when someone is honest and tells me what kind of struggle they are having with their kids or how they are failing or how they want to grow in a certain area. It's like it removes this unsaid unattainable bar that I have made for myself and often assume others have attained. Once some truth is said, it puts us on the same playing field.

Sometimes I wonder how or when I made this imaginary mommy scale in my head. Some of it comes from my pre-mommyhood years. Pre-mommy years, it was easy to judge or make opinions about what I will do or not do when I'm a mom. Then I had a baby and reality hit. I think that I'm a good mom if I do x,y, and z. It's also easy for me to compare my kids behavior with other kids...which is a TERRIBLE idea. But I think more than anything, it just comes from me watching other moms and making assessments about them. There is a mom at Nathan's school that is a skinny minny and always dresses so cute, hair and makeup done, plus she is genuinely so nice. It's easy and natural for me to unconsciously think she's got it all together. I compare myself to this perfect mom and then feel discouraged as I look down at my dirty baggy jeans, pony tailed hair, flip flops on my feet and then hear fighting in the back seat.

But I believe the truth is that even that perfect mommy struggles. No one likes poopy hands, being woken up at night, being told no by a 2 year old in front of their friends, and feeling like they failed again. You never get to punch out at work at the end of the day and even when you do get a mini-vaca from them you are still thinking about them. So why is my goal to be this perfect mom? What if my goal was to do the best job I can, knowing I'm going to fail at times (probably A LOT of times) and to be ok with that. If my new bar that I set in my head was to say I'm sorry to my children when I do mess up, to tell other moms when I am struggling, and I don't have to be perfect, would I survive? I think it would be mommy freedom. I don't want to be like the old man who jumped into his Ferrari. This is me...a mom who dearly loves her kids, who is always questioning what I'm doing, who is not perfect. Rather than despising that, I want to relish that. What am I teaching my kids if I have a high bar that I have to attain?  That there is a high bar for them to attain.  Instead, I want to lead by example of being honest in where I'm at...an imperfect mom who loves her kids.

Distance is ok

One of the things I look forward to each morning is dropping Nathan off at school. He is eager to see his friends and get the day started. This morning, we were in the van on the way to his school, which is only 3 blocks away, and he begins telling me he doesn't want to go. (It was one of those mornings where all three of them woke up on the wrong side of the bed) I felt him out for a minute by asking him a few questions to see if this was legit or not. Once I determined he was fine, I pulled in next to the school and got into the car line. The sliding door opened so that he could jump out. The 5th grade safety guard was there greeting us with a smile. But Nathan just stood there and reiterated that he didn’t want to go. If you are familiar with a carpool drop off lane, you don't want to be having a long pow wow while the cars are piling up behind you. My heart started to speed up and I decided to give him a hug and kiss and gently nudge him towards the door. He stood there until he saw one of his friends from class walk past him and then he eagerly jumped out of the van and started talking, smiling, and yelling bye with a big grin. He didn't look back. (Thank goodness that friend arrived right when we did!)

We are half way through the school year, but even now, one of the most difficult things for me each morning as a mother is to say bye to my five year old and watch him walk down that long hallway with all of the big kids surrounding him. He’s oblivious that I think of him throughout the day wondering what he is doing, experiencing, and how he's feeling. He just knows I drop him off each morning and am there faithfully waiting for him each afternoon at 2:50pm. When he is gone I miss him (not the whole time, I must say being able to focus on the other 2 kids is nice) and it creates anticipation for my 'pick up Nathan' reminder on my phone at 2:45. Having some distance for Nathan and going to school is a good thing. It is part of growing up.

Dropping Nathan off at school isn't the only time I practice having distance from something.  I also have a lot of practice finding distance from that third helping of snickers or when it's past my bedtime but I just have to see one more episode of Downton Abbey.  Finding some distance from the kitchen and tv room is a good thing for me.  However, I've never had to experience what it is like to have distance from other good things, such as relationships or circumstances.  If I have too much sugar, I know the effect. In these new situations, I'm still learning what the effect it. What about relationships or circumstances that you thought you'd never have to gently nudge (or push) out of the van?   I don't know that you can prepare your heart for those times. They make your heart ache for many different reasons. And at the same time you know that it can be good to have distance or that it may be necessary for a season.  

Each afternoon after quiet time, Grace and Stephen run their little feet to the garage, climb in their seats, and giggle most of the three block car ride. When we get to the school, Nathan runs to the van with excitement and is eager to be with us. One thing that allows me to drop off Nathan in the morning is knowing I will pick him up 6 1/2 hours later. It is hard nudging someone out the door, not knowing if you’ll ever get to pick them up later. It makes me so grateful that God never wants or needs distance from me. I will never get nudged out of the van by Him. For now, I will wait in the carpool lane for those 'other circumstances and relationships' hoping the time comes when distance is no longer the better path. I anticipate the time when I get to pick them up and be reunited with them. Hopefully tomorrow morning, Nathan will remember that jumping out of the van is the best choice for him and that I will be there later in the afternoon, eager to pick him up.

leave nothing to the imagination

Each morning is very similar to the one the day before, yet each one is unique. I am in a different mood every morning (I'll blame it on being a woman) and my kids are also in different moods. Sometimes they love oatmeal and other mornings they won't go near it.  This morning I woke up with a decent amount of energy and the first voice I heard was my 5 year old standing outside my bedroom door telling me he was itchy all over.  Ok, either he really was itchy or he was ready for me to get out of bed. I know him, and I knew by that one comment what kind of mood he was in.  He wanted the day to start.  He knew that if he knocked on my door he would get into trouble. Of course, the alternative was to say that he was itchy!  As soon as I met him downstairs, he no longer complained about his skin but instead he was bopping around ready to negotiate his breakfast choices.

This morning I didn't feel like going to the gym, it sounded like too much work, so I thought I could walk Nathan to school and then go for a neighborhood walk afterwards. After dropping my itchy kid off at school, I began my stroll around college park. Grace and Stephen made sure they said hello to each person we passed and yelled "have a good day!"  It's a bit ironic to see them screaming these kind words. After several minutes, Grace insisted that she needed some exercise and persuaded me to get out of the stroller. I've never seen this girl run so fast without stopping. I wondered what had happened to my girl.  My little Jackie Joyner only lasted for a few minutes before she transformed back into my Grace again as she stopped at every flower, leaf, and acorn she saw.  I never knew how slow you could walk until you took a child with you who insisted on walking themselves.  We talked about each item she found and after tugging on the stroller to bring it to a complete stop, she gently placed her stolen items in the basket underneath the stroller.

As we get closer to home, I let Stephen out. He wanted to run like his big sister. I couldn't stop staring at his cheeks that jiggled as he ran. He runs like he's at the tail end of a race.  He leans forward, with his head out in front of the rest of his body, leaving his arms out wagging behind him.  I find myself smiling every time I see him run.

This is what I love about staying home with them. I don't miss anything! (It wouldn't be a full picture if I didn't say this is the challenge of being a mom too..sometimes I want to miss some things).  I don't have to leave anything to my imagination. I'm not wondering if oatmeal was the hit of the day or if Nathan's itchiness persisted.  I get to take a very slow walk with a 3 year old who is so fascinated with nature.  I get entertained by jiggling little cheeks. I enjoy being apart of the details of their day. 

Week 2- Our bodies

You will need:

Flashcards
Side walk chalk
Syringe
Red food coloring
Scissors
Glue
Paint
Cotton balls

Day 1: Muscles

·         Muscles allow you to move. Move your muscles game. Write down on flashcards 6 muscles (abdominals, hamstrings, calves, biceps, triceps, deltoids). Model and practice first, then play.  Put cards face down and then take turns choosing one and then pointing to that muscle group.

·         Trace your body with side walk chalk and label 6 muscles.

·         Write down a list of things you have already done that day. What muscles did you use to accomplish that? You brushed your teeth- you used your biceps and triceps. Talk about what muscles you are using throughout the day.

Day 2: Skeleton system

·         Bones are hard white tissue that make up our skeleton system

·         Cut and paste bones   http://www.brendasfriends.com/mr.bones.cut.and.paste.html

·         Math problems with number of bones. Ex: how many bones are in both legs together?

o   4 bones in each leg -femur, tibia, fibula, and patella

o   3 bones in your arm -humerus (upper arm) radius and ulna (forearm)

o   27 in your hand

Day 3: Brain

·         Your brain is the boss of your body. Color a picture of a brain (I just copied one from google images)

·         Exercise your brain. Play a game like memory or tic tac toe.

·         Use your brain to remember what muscles and bones are. Review last 2 lessons.

Day 4: Heart

·         Your heart is a muscle that pumps blood throughout your body. Point to your heart.

·         Print off picture of heart and color (again I got mine from google images)

·         Use nose syringe and fill up with red colored water. Squeeze the syringe (heart), watch how the water/blood moves out. 

·         Make a rhythmic noise with your hands tapping your leg to imitate your heart beating. Explain that we will stop making the beating noise, but your heart does not stop.

·         Exercise your heart. Run fast, feel your heart beating in your chest. Sit down and rest, can you feel your heart beating.

Day 5: Doctors

·         Make a list of what doctors do to help keep us healthy.

·         Play doctor. Set up a table and chairs. Put on a lab coat (apron) and check each other’s ears, nose, mouth, etc. 

·         Use cotton balls to paint a picture of a body. What do doctors and nurses use cotton balls for?  How is painting with a cotton ball different then using a brush or our fingers?

What are we going to do this summer?!

I can't believe that Nathan's last day of VPK is tomorrow! Awww!! How am I going to keep him learning, out of trouble, and having fun?  I've decided to bring out the teacher in me and come up with a summer curriculum....really, it is just a few simple activities.  I had to keep it simple because I'll be taking care of 2 other kids, cleaning house, making meals, and all the other stuff.  I told Nathan that each week we will have a theme. He came up with many, if not most, of the weekly themes. I hope to include some language arts, math, and a bit of imagination in each weeks' activities. Here ya go if you want to do it along with us. This is really tailored for Nathan so have fun if you want to make it your own.  Ask questions or add suggestions as well!  Good luck moms...I hope you not only survive the summer but enjoy it!
                                                                 SuperHero Week

What you will need this week:
Printer
Flashcards
Glue or tape
Envelope, stamp, letter paper
Yarn
Whole puncher
Paper plate

Day 1

      ·         Print off superheroes and color (I printed off some of Nathan’s favorite superheros)

      ·         Make a super hero mask

o   http://www.firstpalette.com/tool_box/printables/superhero.html

·         Describe characteristics of a hero (help others, fight for good, honest, courageous, strong and fit, responsible). Explain adjectives. Write adjectives on flashcards and have child draw a superhero showing one of these characteristics.

Day 2

·         Review adjectives flashcards and pictures

·         Come up with some real life super heroes we know. What makes them a superhero? Choose one of those people and write a letter thanking for being a hero.  (teach them how to address the envelope)

·         Make a spider web. Will need yarn, whole puncher, and paper plate. Let child punch whole and yarn it threw.

Day 3

·         Review adjective flashcards and pictures. Act each one out in a silly way. You could act it out while being very serious, while laughing, in an accent, while jumping.

·         Super heroes are in shape and eat healthy. Count how many fruits and vegetables you eat today. Make your own food pyramid and keep track of what category you are eating. Add them up.

o   http://www.coloringcastle.com/food_pyramid_coloring_pages.html

·         Do 20 minutes of physical activity. Go for a walk, swim, chores around the house. Set the timer!

Day 4

·         Review adjective flashcards and pictures.  Look at pictures first and try to remember the adjective without turning it over.

·         Write a short story about a superhero. Illustrate it.  If you get stuck you can use your adjective cards.  

Day 5

·         Do a super hero act. Think of something you can do for someone else. Super heroes are always thinking of others. Put laundry away, help someone put their groceries in the car, take trash to the curb for a neighbor, etc. You can even dress up like your favorite superhero while doing this.

·         Have your child think about both ways they are gifted and areas they are weak, in regards to being a super hero. Do they share well with their siblings? Are they quick to help someone in need?

Nathan chose to write his letter to his daddy!

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.