Hard Lock Down and Tough Love

Thanks to Facebook, Instagram and even the occasional IPC (in person chat) with a girlfriend I realize that I am not the complete lunatic that I sometimes think I am as a Mother.  I mean, sometimes I behave like a lunatic but it's not a chronic condition.  There's only so much you can do to protect yourself against the necessary lunacy required against a strong willed, sharp tongued nine year old girl.  Seriously, this girl could have pushed Mother Teresa to the edge.

So yesterday there was an email that circulated to school families about an Emergency Lock Down that happened on campus.  The message was brief but the closing message was that the suspect was removed without incident.  I was relieved and crushed all in the same sentence.  Relieved that no one in our school family was harmed and crushed that this is the place in time that we live.  Even in our tiny, parochial school, ocean view bubble on the Western edge of the continent. The kids filled us in after basketball that hard lock down meant that they turned off the lights, couldn't speak and all action stopped in anticipation of someone who shouldn't be in their hallways being there.  Even to type the words brings big, fat tears to my eyes.  I love that my kids are protected and hate that I am raising them in a world that even knows the words "Hard Lock Down".  The ultra crazy Mama Bear in me wants to run far and fast to somewhere . . . underground maybe . . . that things like this don't happen and eat ice cream and play board games with my sweet people all day for the rest of our lives.  Lunatic.  I know.  

And, on the flipside of my lunacy a mere 18 hours later was me turning around in the middle of the street and driving my daughter home to ask her Dad for a ride to school after she lied to me about her school uniform.  The uniform wasn't such a big deal, but I have a zero tolerance policy on dishonesty and I simply couldn't tolerate the disrespect.  In hindsight, she will grow up and tell her therapist what a crazy bat I was always flying off the handle and doing super dramatic things like dropping her on the front porch and telling her to figure it out, but she can truly get to me like no one else can.   

All of that has been eating at me while I am home sick today and the bottom line is that even though I'm a wee bit crazy there is nothing in the world I want more than to send wonderful humans into the world from our home.  I want to protect them from lock downs, drunk drivers, sun damage and mostly themselves and send them to their futures overly prepared and flourishing in the cruelness of the world.  Several hours of downtime haven't given me the answers to exactly how to do that so I'll just hold onto my lunatic card for now.  Sorry, Bob!

2013: Thirty Days of Thankful

It's November and it is a gift to be able to peacefully prepare for the celebration of Thanksgiving and the approaching Advent season.  The Thankful Tree is again in a place of honor and we are filling it's tiny branches every day with gratitude from our hearts.  To carry on the tradition my daily Facebook posts of Thanks will be documented here for the month.

30 Days of Thankful 2013
Days 1 through 10

11.1.13 - Day One
Today I am thankful for the way technology allows me stay connected to friends who are far away. Photos on Facebook and Instagram, online chats about life and loss and blog posts about everything in between are all gifts to me.

11.2.13 - Day Two
Today I am thankful for my bonus Mom. She is the kindest, most generous soul I've ever met and she has loved me and my family as her own from Day 1. I honestly have no idea how my Dad ever got so dang lucky, but we are all thanking our lucky stars for the gift that she is. 

11.3.13 - Day Three
Today I am thankful for breakfast dishes, drinking coffee at baseball and folding laundry. The most simple days in our life is a gift that I cherish deeply.

11.4.14 - Day Four
Today I am thankful to be a Mom. I was never the girl that just wanted to be a Mom, but God gave me the two most amazing gifts that are everything I never knew I wanted. These people are the whole world to me.

11.5.13 - Day Five

Today I am thankful for courage. Aside from losing my family, there is nothing that really scares me. Well except birds. But besides that, I'm super thankful to have the courage to go after what I want and to stand up for what matters to me.

11.6.13 - Day Six

Today I am thankful for our sweet sitter. She picks up the kids from school, drives to practices and helps with homework. It's a small price to pay for the peace of mind we get from her help and the kids LOVE her!!

11.7.13 - Day Seven

Today I am thankful for Thursday morning carpool and back seat chats with my darling goddaughter. I'm so blessed by this sweet child.

11.8.13 - Day Eight

My heart is filled with thanks for days like today and the gift of spending time with our kids while they're still kids.

This came following a Friday out of school and  the four of us at Disneyland together for the afternoon.

11.9.13 - Day Nine
Yesterday I was thankful for this beautiful couple and the gift of new beginnings. I am a sucker for great parties and weddings are the best!!! We love you so much Mr & Mrs Schlegel! Aloha

11.10.13 - Day Ten
I am thankful for sunshine, blue skies and God's constant reminder that there is always something beautiful on the horizon.

For my treasures

When I tell you that you're a gift to me, I mean it. Deep down, all the way through, I know that God had a plan for me that is still beyond my comprehension. When each of you came to Daddy and me I wasn't anxiously wishing for you. I've seen the despair and hurt that comes when there is a Mama with no baby and that wasn't me. I didn't even know that I needed you to become the person that God intended for me to be. I thought I was fine. But then everything changed.

My gratitude for you was immediate and intense. The gift of your life was, and never is, lost on me. I understand fully that I am better because of you. Every day. Every time I pray, I say thank you FOR you. But maybe not enough TO you.

My precious babies, thank you. Thank you for loving me so fully even when I fail you. Thank you for loving each other with a ferocity that only siblings can share. Thank you for your giant smiles, sharp minds and your love of dogs and sunshine. Thank you for taking out the trash, hanging up your back packs and being great readers. Thank you for being your unique and extraordinary selves.

My sensitive and gentle son, I thank you for the lesson that not every action must be so intense that it fractures the intended outcome. Thank you for your humility, your dark curly eyelashes and your giant heart. Thank you for treating your Dad like a hero and me like a Princess. Thank you for listening carefully when I am struggling to be good enough for you and can't articulate exactly what I want for you. Thank you for trying so hard to make me feel like I am not destroying your spirit when I am clumsy and cruel in my words to you.

My spirited and brilliant girl, thank you for your mischief and your wonder of the world. Thank you for reminding me that energy and curiosity need positive outlets and for never allowing me to be lazy about our time together. Thank you for giving me a dose of own medicine sometimes but then forgiving easily when I bare my soul and apologize for my lack of patience. Thank you for your sparkly blue eyes that see straight through me and your fierce hugs and wild laughter.

You are my treasures. You are a gift. Every bouquet of flowers, every card and breakfast on a tray is appreciated, but there is nothing that I want more than happiness and wellness for the two of you. Mother's Day is my honor.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

The written word

A lot of my time lately is spent with The Princess. Not that I mind.  That little chick is hilarious and we like to get our nails done and do girly stuff together.  Having her as my constant companion is a gift in many ways. 

But the truth is, I miss my guy.  He spends oodles of time with his Dad.  They go to football games, baseball practice, basketball practice . . . everywhere together.  I know that E loves having him as a constant companion, too.  It works. And I also know that the older he gets the less I will see of him.

The sad little glimpse into the future, however, is not working for me so much.  With school, work, sports and life I only see my guy for a few hours every week. I know that is more than I can expect even a few years from now but I am missing that sweet face and warm heart of his.  We're going on a date tomorrow night.  I can hardly wait.  And if I didn't think he'd get all weirded out I'd say every single thing on this page to him, but he is a ten year old boy.  I am pretty sure that he would be uncomfortable with my sharing how madly in love with him that I am.  So, as a keepsake, I will use the written word.  I truly hope one day he'll read all of it and know how much he was loved. Every single day.

For my son,

You have ALWAYS been too good to be true.  You were the happiest, easiest baby in the history of the world.  That is an absolute fact.  Every day of my life since February 19, 2002 I have said Thank you to God for the gift that you are. I have talked before about how it terrifies me that life with you is so good, but of late I have just decided to take everything one day at a time and be genuinely grateful for every day that we have.

Life is going really, really fast for us right now.  Daddy and I are awfully busy raising you and your sister and being us, and you are so very busy being ten and living life to the fullest.  I love that part more than you will ever know.  It delights me to see you running off to practice and putting on your belt as you go or holding your sister's backpack while she climbs out of the car just before you turn away and walk into school. The spoiled selfish girl in me wants to tell you to stop and come hug ME and spend time with ME, but I love you too much to ever hold you back.  I love to watch you go and find your way, but I miss you so much. 

You are SUCH a boy with your smelly socks and your wrinkled shirts that you cram into drawers when I ask you to put them away, but I am told by someone at least once a week how kind and polite you are.  Wow.  A few weeks ago the umpire at your baseball game, Mark, came to the fence and said "who's kid is that?"  That's sort of a weird question, but I claimed you unconditionally.  He said, "He has really great manners.  He is so polite every time he's at bat.  I've never met a kid that's more polite." I can forgive the toothpaste on the mirror every time because there are a million reminders in the world that you are doing much better things than cleaning up behind yourself.

Sometimes when I am watching you from a distance and catching snippets of your conversations with friends I can imagine you much older and even further out in the world.  I visualize you trekking across a college campus chatting with your buddy on the way to class and just being a slightly larger version of your wonderful self.  I wonder what profession you'll choose.  Your sense of humanity is larger than life and you have a genuine heart for service.  You are super squeamish so I'm not thinking that being a surgeon is in your future, but think maybe physical therapy is or even a career as a high school teacher and coach.  Oh Punky, you would be such a fantastic teacher.  I selfishly want you to make more money than that, but that's just plain shallow.  You would really make a wonderful teacher.

You have so many amazing qualities that I could write a giant novel just about you and your goodness.  You're a great student, a talented athlete, a gentle soul and a wonderful Christian.  You do everything well and there are some things you are exceptional at.  Sometimes I get so focused on the doing of all that we do that I forget to stop and enjoy what we do.  I really enjoy being your Mom.  I enjoy talking with you about the Pendragon books and how that call at second base could be different.  I enjoy hearing how much other people appreciate the young man you are becoming.  I enjoy watching you play with your cousins and hearing you talk to your family.  I enjoy you.  I cherish you.  I adore you.

Thank you for all of the terrific things you are and the hope of the things that are to come.  It is such an honor to have you for a son.

With All my Love ~ Mom

p.s.  I'm thrilled you accepted my invitation for tomorrow night.  I can't wait.

My Proud Mommy Moment is all about my first born. I am so proud of him every day.

Tell me something good

Today was conference day at school.  E and I spent 20 minutes with The Athlete's teacher and then 20 minutes with The Princess' teacher.  The conferences were QUITE different but then so are the kids.
He is
"such a good friend."
"a fantastic writer." (this one surprised me, BTW)
"so polite and considerate."
"really doing well."




She is
"extremely bright."
"reading well beyond her grade level."
"very organized in her thoughts."
and . . .
"funny, but sometimes disruptive."



UH OH.  Not that we didn't know, but it's not really what you want to hear from the person who spends seven hours a day with her five days a week.
Her teacher was surprisingly good natured about it and has been really good about keeping me updated on what is happening in class.  But still . . .
We talked about ways to keep her focused and to challenge her,  but the bottom line is this.  She is healthy, happy and smart.  And super damn funny.  Things could be much, much worse I say.  An extremely bright, funny girl doesn't feel so bad.

Here's to a great weekend with our amazing kids. They are more than I could have ever asked for.

Friendly Reminder

 There's an awful lot of fretting and disciplining that goes on around here.  Life at 1307 is most certainly NOT a free for all.  But with all the fretting and discipline there is an overwhelming abundance of love.

 



Dear Lord help me to remember every.single.day. that she will only be eight once and she may never EVER again swim in my bathtub with goggles on.  Remind me that I need to remind her that no one in the whole wide world will ever love her as much as I do.  Except you.

And Dear Lord, remind me that I can't just say it.  I must show her.  I must show her every day how deeply she is loved, respected and needed in our family.

 

Pouring my heart out with Shell over something that I want so badly and sometimes just need a friendly reminder.

From the bottom of my heart.

Just a Girl

The words swirl constantly and I cannot organize the thoughts enough to put them in order.  The idea of stringing together sentences to express myself clearly is more overwhelming than the crowd of thoughts themselves.  Tonight is not different. 

It's cold and wet outside, but our home is warm and safe.  The satisfaction of physical comfort won't stick because of how desperately I need everything to be as calm as this room.  Our life is not calm.  Our life is mostly likely an antonym for the word calm.


At least three nights this week I worked until I was delirious and should probably do it a few more nights to meet my deadlines.  That damn dog eats everything that's not tied down.  My failures as a parent are crushing me.  And I want to run.  If I sit still long enough to think I am crippled by the enormity of it all.  I am totally a fraud in the pressure and expectations of the world I inhabit.  Whoever thought I was qualified enough to take on all of this and do it well was very, very wrong.  I am just a girl that fell in love with a boy from far away.  How the rest of it happened is purely a miracle.

In acknowledgment of my rambling thoughts and overwhelming need to spill I will just talk about me.  The me that I forget about sometimes.  The me that I want my kids to know about.

My Nanny has been my favorite person for my whole life. I miss her every single day.

 Handwritten notes are one of my favorite things. No tweet, email or text can ever replace getting a personal note on paper from someone.

Country music is comfort food to me.

An outdoor concert is my idea of a perfect date.

If I could sit alone {guilt free} for an afternoon I would get a LOOOONG pedicure with all the extras and read a book. I wouldn't talk. I wouldn't listen to music. I would just read and have my feet rubbed.

photo courtesy of the Athlete

I love getting dressed up.
AND
I love to see E in a suit.

I wear earrings, a watch and my wedding ring even when I am wearing sweats and haven't showered.  Jewelry is totally my thing.

My husband impresses me more every day. I am so glad I married the right person for me.

The idea of teaching my kids how to drive scares me to death.

I am not good at praying.  My heart is TOTALLY in it but I am never sure what to say.  I always make sure that I say thank you if I can't think of anything else.  Thank you is always in my heart when I talk to God.

My fitness level (or lack of it) scares me.  I want to be healthier than I am right now.

My constant level of exhaustion also scares me.  I don't think it's healthy to be this tired all the time.

Hawaii is where I go to when I dream. My dreams even smell better in Hawaii.

The cross I had made with my diamonds from my Grandmother's cocktail ring is my favorite piece of jewelry.

My obsession with Pinterest may have been replaced by my new obsession with houzz.  Oh what I could do with endless amounts of money and a trustworthy handy man!  And a decorator . . .  and endless amounts of money . . .

Lunch with a girlfriend is always a treat for me.  I love to hang with my girlfriends one on one.

I hope that my children inherit my courage.  I really want them to be fearless and always willing to apologize if they trip anyone while they're charging ahead.

Aging is not my favorite thing.  My hair is thinning, my skin looks terrible and I have started wondering if I need to have something done about the veins in my legs.  Oh brother!

Even though I lack patience with the chewing and shedding of our new puppy I really, really like dogs.

Taking our golf cart to the beach always makes me happy.

My children inspire me to hang in there every day.  I walk taller and push harder because I want to be worthy of them.

My children make me know that there's nothing I can't get through.  Sometimes I just need to take a deep breath.  Or two.

Greater Than One

The post that is rattling around in my head should really be three {or four} posts.  Big, well written posts.  There is nothing sparkly or fluffy about what's going on around here lately.

There's the passing of our precious old dog and how we're working through that.  The kids are doing better than E and me, but all of us are feeling it in different ways.  He was such a big part of our family.

We're also focused pretty heavily on a new canine companion for our sweet doggie girl who has never been alone a day in her life and was suddenly left without her friend. She is needy by nature and her loneliness is not helping.

A lot of soul searching happens with us {E and me} when we are making big decisions.  It is surely a  good thing that we don't take those things lightly, but on some levels it just makes everything more complex and cumbersome.  Making decisions based on ALL the facts and how we feel about every facet of it is a little outside of my expertise, but it certainly is enlightening and encouraging to be truly honest.  A dog is a big deal in our house.  As is where we think we'll be living six years from now and whether or not we're making sound decisions for our family.

Definitely more than one post.

At the heart of those matters, and the one that means more to us than anything, is setting positive examples for our children.  In handling grief, to making decisions that will impact us for much longer than it takes for the puppy to make them giggle and lick their faces all the way to treating everyone the way we want to be treated - they are taking their lead from us.  All day.  Every day.  It exhausts me and if I'm not always feeling like it's the privilege that it truly is I could be given to complaining.  And a perfect post popped into my inbox that is the loveliest reminder of the way it should be.

KC at Sanctified Pearl wrote about replacing complaints with thankfulness.  Her sentiment is so lovely and so timely.  I wanted to share her beautiful words with you and the scripture that she references.

“Do everything without complaining and arguing, so that no one can criticize you.”

Philippians 2:14 – 15a

May you be blessed the way that I was with KC's wisdom and have a renewed sense of gratitude and enpowerment in your heart to share.

Ten Things ~ September

It's time, it's time . . .  Ten Things to Smile About.  Crazy how Emmy is right on time every month and reminds me that yet another 1/12 of the year is long gone.  If anything is true month after month it is that I always have something to smile about and always owe Emmy for reminding me to remember all of those sweet reasons.

http://www.emmymom2.com/

Finally getting the necklace I designed using my Grandmother's diamond cocktail ring. I LOVE it, LOVE it, LOVE it and it's even more special because it's a family piece.

The patience and care we received from the weekend veterinarian and his staff when our sweet Kramer decided it was time for him to go.

Taking a later flight because she REALLY wanted her hair curled for picture day

E being such a patient and focused coach for our son and his teammates

An impromptu day at Disneyland when school was cancelled for a power outage

Keeping up with the Joneses

Our family blog has been desperately neglected lately.  We've been working {too much}, traveling {a lot} and playing {hard}.  When I want to sit down and write I end up unloading the dishwasher or just collapsing in a heap in bed.  Besides being painfully busy lately the recurring theme of the adult conversations in our house is about whether or not we're headed in the right direction.  Not as a couple - thank goodness we finally figured that out - but as parents.

Are we really doing what's right for them?


Those conversations always bring up so much self doubt for me and insecurity about how good I really am.  The absolute truth of all of that is that I never feel worthy of the true goodness that has been bestowed upon me.  My deepest darkest secret is that I think everyone else just does it so much better.

Their homes are more beautiful.  Their thighs are a little slimmer.  They are more patient and loving with their children.

Even as I know this about myself, I struggle with my children wanting to be like someone else or be something that is less than their authentic self.  All I want for them is to be the very best of whatever God intended for them to be.

And Emily from Jones Design Company popped into my inbox at 7:29 AM and I devoured her words immediately. Funny how that happens sometimes.

Emily is someone that I think just has it all together.  Her home is so lovely.  And she's very pretty and writes beautifully.  She knows how to edit digital photos and sew ruffle pillows.  She would definitely never wear flip flops to the dentist and her life must be so much better than mine.  Or she may just be human like the rest of us.

Her post today spoke directly to my heart and gave me a little hope and inspiration that I am desperately needing right now.  You can read the whole post here, but if you don't make it any further you have to read this devotion that she shared with her children.

“Stop comparing yourself to other people. When you compare yourself to others, you end up either feeling that you’re better than they are, or feeling bad about yourself. Neither of those things is what I want for you.
I created each of My children with unique talents. And I have given each of you your own road to follow. So it is useless to compare yourself to someone else – that person has a completely different path to follow.


When you want to feel good about yourself, remember how much I love you. Remember that I made you just the way I want you to be. And remember that I died so you could have My salvation. You are a jewel in My crown.”


How lovely and true and inspirational.  He made us the way he wants us to be.

Them.

And Us.


And the Joneses.  Amen.

What Would She Say?

If you saw me in the parking lot at lunch you would think "Cute dress. Bad hair." I don't outwardly appear to be a total disaster. I am showing up for work and brushing my teeth. The kids get vitamins every morning and all of the towels are clean. I even fed and watered the roses yesterday. Life is not bad. I am just DONE.

Capital D. Capital O. Capital N. Capital E. DONE

Our offspring are being truly ungrateful and rude to each other. My tolerance for corporate nonsense is dangerously low. I struggle to write concisely and professionally in business correspondence because I really just want to rant and tell people they are complete jack asses!!!!! I truly, truly, truly hate packing lunches and unloading the dishwasher.

DONE

And then I open my jewelry box to make myself feel better with something pretty and see the photo of her.



Nanny and The Princess - September 2004

 What would she say to me right now?

I would tell her every word I just wrote and she would definitely scold me for saying jackass. But what would she really say?

She survived her husband, two of her three children and one of her grandchildren. She never even had a dishwasher. Ever. She washed every dish by hand immediately after every meal. Every time. Even after fried chicken and homemade biscuits. She hand wrote me a letter every week for ten years after I moved to California. After her arthritis made writing too painful she typed to me on a typewriter. And when she didn't have anything to say she would type;

"I don't have anything to say. I just want you to know that you're my sunshine. Love, Nanny"

And I never heard her complain in my whole life. Ever.

Oh my goodness, I can not believe how much I still miss her.

E and I have been talking endlessly about how entitled and ungracious our children seem this summer and I can't help thinking that maybe it's because we're so entitled and ungracious. Are they complaining about being tired from camp because we're complaining about being tired from work? Do they talk to each other like that because we talk to them like that?

I know the answer but I want it to be different.

I want to be more like her. I want to be tough and graceful on the same day. I want to smile at every single person I encounter and mean it. I want to be truly thankful for the dirty dishes and the lunch boxes and lead the ungracious children in the other direction. Purely by example.

She was really the most wonderful person in the world. I know what she would say.




- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Like a Beacon of Light

The inevitable.  The unmanageable. The irrelevant.

It all consumes me lately.

E and I returned from our island getaway to a counter full of rocks {literally} and extra bratty children who weren't interested in ANYTHING other than what we brought them from our trip.  Not really the Norman Rockwell homecoming I had painted in my mind while we wistfully enjoyed our time without them.

The week that followed was genuinely painful.

Every night was a tug of war with exaggerated bedtimes and temper tantrums over tater tots.

Recommiting to our workloads was an absolute joke while we tried to gain our footing again at home.  Even as the laundry slowly got done and vegetables were being served it just wasn't working.  As I stated QUITE clearly on Friday morning . . .

"This week has sucked.  I am not going to work today.  We'll have a long weekend and it will all be better next week."

And I meant it with all my heart.  I took the day off and it was a long, wonderful weekend.  We made progress in organizing ourselves again and we had fun.  Monday morning was no problem.

Then reality crept right back in and made a joke of me and my declaration.

Camp was closed.

Work sucked. A lot.

Someone hit my car in the parking lot.  While it was parked.

What. On. Earth.

?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?

How exactly does life do that?  I said life would be all better next week and it's NEXT WEEK.  Shouldn't it be better? 

But it IS better and I almost forgot.

While I was languishing in a bubble bath last night gearing up for my better week, The Princess came in several times.  She couldn't sleep.  The scrape on her elbow was excruciating.  The noise from the crickets was too loud.  You name it.  The last time she came in she told me that the bulb went out in her lamp and she couldn't sleep without it.  I told her that we would fix it in the morning and to go to bed.  We didn't see her again.

This morning when I went to wake her up I found him.

My Beacon of Light.

He was groggy and I was on my way to the coffee maker.  I half heartedly asked him why he was there and why he had a flashlight in his hand.  He didn't respond immediately and I was on my way to the coffee maker.



On the way to camp I asked him again why he was sleeping in her room.

"Because she couldn't sleep without her lamp, Mom.  I brought my flashlight and slept with her."

Work will still suck tomorrow.  The car will get fixed. And camp will {I hope} open.  But if not one other thing in the world changes I will still be their Mom and they are good.

So, so good.

As handsome as the captain of a cruise ship

In my very humble opinion, there is a genetic requirement for Mothers to love and care for their children. I believe that women who harm children are biologically not well and something is working against their natural instincts. I truly believe that.  I also believe that Dads have to work a little harder to give their unconditional love.  They see through some of the nonsense that Moms get sucked into and don't ever think poop is cute.  It's proven that we are biologically different. And it's all the more reason that it's so much more remarkable for a Dad to be really good at it.  God blessed me twice with men who are remarkable Dads.

My Daddy gave me short, sturdy legs.  That's not my most favorite thing about him, but there are lots of other things that are.  It's because of him that I am brave and tenacious.  I can bait my own hook and shoot a gun.  He is why I am not afraid of bugs, snakes and hard work.  I think of him every time I make a tough decision or tell someone something they don't want to hear.  I have no problem with saying no or being unpopular.  None of those things mattered enough to me while my Dad was trying to be a Dad to me, but I see him in my own parenting so often and understand his motives. I love how hard my Dad worked to ensure that I became the adult that I was meant to be.  I hope one day that my children will admire and cherish me as much as I do him.

There is no delayed reaction, however, to how much my children love and admire their own Dad.  I married him purely for myself without any regard for what kind of Dad he would be.  I loved his big brown eyes and the way he made me feel so much bigger than anything I really was way back when.  I loved him big but could never imagine how much more I would love him as a Dad.  He unfailingly patient and kind with children.  He is a teacher and a coach.  He absorbs far more than his share of pressure and pain in life so that they don't have to.  He loves their mother and shows them how a real man should treat a woman.  He is hard working, hard driving and authentic.

The Athlete made a card for him for Father's Day and said he is as handsome as the captain of a cruise ship. I love that! He also said he likes it when his Dad throws baseballs for him, takes his family camping in Yosemite and takes him to basketball games.  What he said in all of that is that he likes his Dad being there for him in the ways that matter most.  What kid could ask for more?

Happy Father's Day to my favorite men and any Dads who have garnered the admiration of their children. You are truly loved.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Friday Confessional

I Confess . . .

I want it to be summer. Hot, sunny, spend all day at the beach summer.

I am grateful that we haven't had an earthquake or a tsunami. I feel blessed.

And I admit I am shallow.

I really, really, really want it to be summer.

I Confess . . .

I am tracking my carb and sugar intake.

Admitting how much sugar I eat is shocking.

Cutting back on how much sugar I eat sucks.

I would eat a hot fudge sundae for every meal if I could.

I Confess . . .

Motherhood is stressing me out lately.

It feels like everything I have done since I threw away my last diaper has been a failure.

I fret that I am not doing it right. Ever.

It invades my every thought, my every waking moment and every project.

I wish there was a book and a right answer, but I know there's not.

I Confess . . .

A few people have made the mistake lately of whining about how busy they are.

I'm afraid I don't respond well to cry babies.

I've got absolutely no sympathy for anyone complaining about busy.

You can complain to me any week that you work at least 40 hours, drive 60 miles each day in traffic, have one or more difficult conversations with an educator, counselor, coach or troop leader, attend two sporting events, address no less than 20 cotillion invitations in your most beautiful handwriting, get all your laundry done, and pack two picky brat lunchboxes at least three times.

Suck it up.

I Confess . . .

I need a vacation.

If you've got a secret to spill you can link with Mamarazzi, too. 

Pour Your Heart Out: Wacky or Worried??

Adult Male: "What's your name?"

The Princess: "Bob"

Adult Male {smiling}: "Nice to meet you Bob.  Do I know your parents?"

The Princess {deadpan}: "I don't have parents.  I am an orphan."

Adult Male {smiling wider}: "Oh really now?  Well who brought you to the party?"

The Princess {deadpan}: "I was in the neighborhood.  I came for the food."

Is she funny?  Mostly she is REALLY funny.  She can be unbelievably dry and alternately wild and hilarious. 

But sometimes I worry that she uses humor to cover up insecurity.  And sometimes she's not funny at all.  She can be mean.  And intentionally hurtful.  And I worry that she's hurting and doesn't know how to ask for help.  She's only 6.

Concerned Adult:  "She is really developing an odd sense of humor lately."

Me {feigning ignorance}:  "Oh, really?"

Concerned Adult: "Someone asked her today where The Athlete was and she said he was dead."

Me: "Oh.  Oh.  Really?  Oh.  Really?"

I don't exactly know what the appropriate response is to that but I am starting to worry about my girl.  A lot.

Butterflies and rainbows.  Frilly dresses with matching hair ribbons.  Patent leather mary janes with ruffled ankle socks and a bonnet on Easter.

My idealized vision of a little girl is NOT what my daughter is and I am mostly OK with that. I want her to be bold and confident and witty. But not creepy. Not alarmingly morbid.  Not someone who I have to worry about where (or who) she's going to turn to for attention when she feels like she's not getting enough from us.

I lay awake at night wondering if I should let it go and just keep doing what I'm doing.  Is she just feeling out her place in the world and she'll be the next Tina Fey?  Or is she hurt and I am failing her horribly and all she knows how to do is cover it up with words and wit?  Maybe I should be wrapping her up with all the love I can stand and begging her to share her darkest secrets with me.

If I had the answer I would pursue it whole heartedly and wouldn't need to Pour My Heart Out on my blog.  But I don't.

Happy Birthday To You

It's my Mom's birthday today.  I won't tell you how old she is because I really don't think she'd like it.  But I read something recently that I think is so fitting for someone like her.

What we take and what we leave all depends on what we give.

She will celebrate her birthday to the enth degree today.  No doubt about it. She will fully expect a greeting, a cake and a wish from everyone she encounters today.  If she were a different person I would think it was ridiculous, but from her it's not so much.  She would give you her house, her car and everything in her closet if she felt like you needed it.  If all she expects in return is a card, some sugar and a smile then good for her.

On the 13th anniversary of her 50th birthday ; ) I want to wish my Mama a very Happy Birthday.  What you get will NEVER match what you give.  You deserve every moment of happy today.  I Love You

Pour Your Heart Out

This week will mark the 9th birthday of my son and I am not quite sure how I feel about this one.  It feels as if we are rapidly hurtling towards him selecting a college I am so not OK with that idea.  To lose my grasp on him terrifies me and makes me miss him.  Long before he'll actually be gone.  And then I think - what if we don't make it that far?

Please don't judge me and don't say I am crazy.  Shell's Pour Your Heart Out is part writing exercise and part therapy for me.  And there is no truer fear in my heart than losing my son.  I hope and pray that if I can "pour it out" I can move on from it.  Or at least stop fretting over it for a while.

There's something buried in me that absolutely, genuinely believes that if something looks too good be true then it probably is.  I don't believe in perfect.  I cherish those sweet, sunny days that have a ring of perfection to them but even then I almost expect to have a car accident on the way home.  Twisted, I know.

My son is perfect to me.  I am sure if you asked someone else they would say he's too small, or we should really address orthodontia sooner than later, or something that would point out a minor imperfection.  But I think he is perfect.  I remember sitting on the side of the bed in our sunny guest room the day I found out I was pregnant with him and sharing the good news with my Nanny.  I was over.the.moon.  That feeling for him has not changed even once in the last nine years.

God blessed us with the kindest, funniest, smartest, most considerate child in the world.  He is a wonderful student and a gifted athlete.  He works hard, listens eagerly and doesn't question authority.  He has slept all night in his own bed since he was 7 weeks old. He is kind to his sister and loves God and his family.

Is he somehow not human?  Of course not.  I do not love his "all boy" approach to housekeeping or hygiene.  I would like for him to spend less time bulding trains out of Legos and more time reading books that challenge him.  I am not impressed when he brings home a test that is below his ability because he wanted to finish and go to recess.  Our relationship is real, but my love for him is beyond anything I ever even knew was possible.

He seems to good to be true.

And if that's the case then surely I will be smacked in the face with the grim reality of the world any moment now.  The harsh unforgiving world that doesn't let perfection linger.  The world that knows I have done nothing to deserve something so pure and ideal.

A few years ago I was hysterical quite often because he was not well.  He complained constantly of terrible headaches and fatigue.  He wasn't eating and when he did he wasn't digesting well.  I was convinced that my exposure to perfection was done and he was terminally ill.  My fear was absolute.  We pursued some testing and counseling and came to the conclusion that his focus on the "right thing" really didn't permit him to accept anyone who was doing the "wrong thing".  His anxiety manifested in a very physical way.  There was a lot of the "wrong thing" going on in kindergarten and we learned how to help him work through that.

Crisis averted.

I've not had any real fear like that since then, but it's always there.  Always threatening me.  The more I love him the more I fear that his fate has been determined.  I think about all of the the beautiful children that are tragically taken from their families by illness, or meanness or tragedy.  You hear it over and over again.

"She was just the brightest star in  the universe."

"We were lucky to have him for even a minute."

"God had better plans for him."

Recently I was ordering something from an acquaintance, who was referenced on her sister in law's blog, who referenced her friend who had a perfect son, with a perfect name who was in perfect health.  Before he tragically died at the age of 9.  Her first born bundle of vibrant perfection is gone forever. Be still my heart.

There is absolutely no reason that I should have been connected to this woman who I don't know.  None.  I was buying a gift for my brand new niece and there she was talking about "her Max" and how they had to fly home from vacation without him.  My heart shattered in a million pieces for her family and makes my hands tremble when I think about my own perfect son.

But I felt a little bit like it was a reminder.  A reminder that even if something is too good to be true it should be cherished all the more.  To celebrate clean laundry and fish sticks.  To stop digging for perfection and linger over bedtime prayers.  to be sure and tell everyone you love how much you mean it whenever you get the chance.

If our life is too good to be true I want it to end knowing that we took full advantage while it was here.



Every Coach is a Life Coach

The month of January makes me hyper sensitive to young athletes and the men (and women) that are spending time with them when their parents are not.  My son plays basketball, has baseball tryouts and starts track in January.  My husband spends countless hours this month coaching, practicing and playing basketball with boys our son's age and with the 7th grade team he has coached for three years.  He also makes time to watch other games that are coached by his friends.  All of them good men, but none of them is truly prepared to add "Life Coach" to their business cards that already read "Dad, Brother, Husband, Bartender, Lawn Man, Dog Groomer, Analyst" . . .  It's temporary and time is volunteered.  They're just coaches.  Or not.

Remember when I talked about the baseball coach that was so deserving of an attitude adjustment from me?  The one who was going to make me be That Mom?  Well, I remember him.  It's been almost a year since The Athlete played for him and I have not (nor will I) forget how much of an impact he had on our family that spring.  A negative impact.

Coach B taught my son that if you weren't successful in every position and every at bat that there must be a problem that needed fixing.  He taught him that being big was always superior to being small and full of heart.  He taught him that no matter how hard he tried or how much he cared he was not going to be part of his A Team.  He taught all of us a lesson that season.  Given the opportunity again I would shield my son from that sort of lesson at his age, but we did learn.

Then there was another coach.  Coach TJ.  He taught The Athlete some different lessons.  He taught my son confidence and shared skills that he sought in players as a college recruiter.  He taught my son to play hard but not to count runs, wins or losses.  He taught him to play his hardest and always have a good time in the process.  He taught him how to accept failures graciously and hold on to them as learning opportunities.

E came home before his basketball game on Saturday and told me that The Athlete looked really great at baseball tryouts that morning.  My son told me that he saw Coach TJ in the field watching him.  Less than an hour later I got a note from TJ

Mrs M

Boy did The Athlete look fantastic today at tryouts.  I told all the coaches what a great kid he is; made the old coach proud.  Keep up the good work

TJ

Any coach can teach our kids the proper stance at bat, which angle to run in to accurately field a fly ball and where he should aim for on the backboard for that perfect shot. At this stage in the game I am comfortable that my son could actually find all of those things through google.


But those aren't the lessons that my son is going to take with him beyond Pony League and my husband's seventh graders will take to high school. The lessons they'll leave with are the lessons about honor, and sportsmanship and effort. Good or bad, intentional or not our children are learning from their coaches every day.  Every encounter is a learning opportunity and I am eternally grateful for men like TJ and my husband.  Men that understand the impact that they are having on the next generation long after the sweat has dried on their jerseys.  Men that know they are life coaches, even without the title.



"It is not how big you are; it's how big you play"



Thirty Days of Thankfulness

Day Sixteen ~ December 3

Today I am thankful for Friday.  I could not possibly handle one more of THOSE days this week.

Day Fifteen ~ December 2

Today I am thankful for my sense of humor. If I weren't able to laugh at the nonsense that makes up the majority of my day I would surely be a manic, chain-smoking alcoholic!!

Day Fourteen ~ December 1

Today I am thankful for elementary school bedtime and the glass(es) of wine with my name on it.  This tired Mama needs the nighttime wind down in a very big way.

photo courtesy of flickriver.com

Ten Things - November 2010

It's a new month {AGAIN!} and time to share the ten things this month that made me smile.  I am sure that I had more than reasons than usual to smile this month, but here are ten of my favorites.  You should see Emmy's Ten Things, too.  There's a photo of her kids that should be in a magazine and SHE'S the photographer.  Way to go, Emmy!

Seeing Colbie Caillat in concert in San Diego

The fun and fellowship of a family get together and wacky kids who have taken up arm wrestling!!!

Finally getting to the bottom of the giant stack of medical correspondence and billing from my back injury this summer. Good insurance is a great reason to smile!

Celebrating my tenth wedding anniversary.  Right behind motherhood, marriage is hard work!  I am so truly grateful to be married to someone that I love even more now than I did when we got married.

Celebrating our anniversary and the Thanksgiving holiday in Hawaii.  We did not one serving of pumpkin pie, but I more than made up for it with pineapple mojitos!!

Volcanoes, rainbows and stunning sunsets all make me smile

Coming home to a clean house, dogs that were well cared for and homemade cupcakes.  Love you, Megan!

Fawning over a simple holiday wreath in a shop window and successfully making it myself.  SERIOUSLY! 

I am NOT a crafter so just you can't even imagine my delight

My kids.  I could not possibly love these people any more. Could not.

Getting into the holiday spirit