Dreams: May Require Some Assembly

Have you ever noticed that some dreams are kind of vague? You see an overall outcome that you would like to achieve, but the journey getting there is oftentimes a bit faded.  It’s not just the sleeping dreams, but the day dreams as well. I like to categorize them: the ones that you can do (have a natural propensity for), the ones that you would have needed to groom for most of your life (a President doesn’t just become president) and the ones that just have no relativity at all except for the movie you watched last night before bed. 

Our house has been incredibly quiet this week because our kids are visiting their grandparents. While enjoying the quiet, I have been reflecting on the time when staying at home with my child(ren) was just a daydream. I remember the rushed mornings, the crying when I dropped Anthem off at daycare, wishing that I wasn’t missing out on her firsts. I remember rushing home after work eager to spend as much time with my husband and kid as I could possibly fit in. Dinners were hastily put together after the general greetings after getting home. It wasn’t until our oldest was two years old and our second child that I was able to stay home.

I was really excited and proud of the fact that we were able to make that happen. What I didn’t realize, were the faded areas of the dream: What makes it work? There are things they don’t tell you about being the stay at home parent. Like how long the hours 6:30 am to 6:30 pm really can be. Or how many times you will clean up one area before your spouse walks in and asks, “What did you do all day?” Or the fact that NO would become the Uh or um in your life: you don’t realize you are saying it so often until you hear yourself on record. When you are being interrupted during your tasks, it’s easy to forget to appreciate the loves and hugs randomly throughout the day. The art of being mom becomes mechanical as you try to make things run smoothly all week long.  I think when we get so involved in the routine we forget the overall outcome we were shooting for: we are living the dream. 

There are so many wonderful things about staying at home. The kids are funny, super funny now. I love being able to prepare a meal that we all get to sit down and enjoy. We have a beautiful yard and garden that shows our love for our home. There is a dramatic difference between surviving, making things work and enjoying living your dream. It can definitely seem overwhelming at times but it is outweighed by the cherished moments we share as a family.  It’s pulling up into the driveway and appreciating the house that with us in it, makes it a home. 

Although we’ve enjoyed our break, the job, the home and the free time we always wish we have more of, appeared more accurately as an empty shell of who we always hoped we would be. At one point, all of this was just a dream as we struggled through our twenties defining ourselves. Now that we are living it, it is easy to get bogged down in the day to day operations and forget the magic that it used to hold. I think every good thing comes from the effort we put into it. Our dreams come with some assembly required.

It’s All Alright

Parenting is full of crazy days, ups, downs and arounds. I was sitting here thinking about all the cool things about the ages my kids are right now. I remember wishing away hours when they were three under three, waiting for them to be more mobile and a bit more self-sufficient so I could begin the time when I got to grow up with them again. While I was having these warm fuzzy thoughts, I realized that my seven year old was throwing a fit and howling in the other room. 

One of the finest moments the other day was explaining to my oldest daughter why her name is Anthem. After a couple of months at the end of school, she came home a bit upset and told dad that kids were calling her the National Anthem. The other night, we listed to the Good Charlotte song that she is named after and had a really awesome discussion about the song. It talks about not being like everyone else and being free to be yourself. Her eyes lit up and it was like seeing my ‘dream’ when I knew that was what I would name her, in real motion. 

It was a rough day in parenting and when we dropped our kids off at my parents to go to listen to a band, I was still mentally kicking myself for it. While doing so, I realized that out of anyone that observes, I am my own toughest critic. I find myself playing and replaying events and criticizing all of my thoughts, motives, intents and actions. I nitpick MYSELF. As we walked into the venue, we ran into some friends. One of which immediately commended me for a strategic consequence given to my son after a series of offenses. Their praise for creative correction made me realize that I was being way too hard on myself. 

As I sat there, I thought about my decision to use different consequences to suit the crime, because traditional consequences didn’t seem to be getting the message across. I was still kind of in a funk when they started singing about love. Love. I love my kids. I love them enough to try harder and to try differently when things aren’t working. I love my kids enough to have consequences now so that later we don’t have to work so hard to re-establish respect that wasn’t taught early. It’s my everyday work that makes them a pleasure at other peoples’ houses or at events when I am so surprised that they behave so well. 

And guess what? They love me too. They were excited to see us when we went to pick them up. My parents were happy to report that they were really good while they were there. When we are embroiled in the circumstances, it’s hard to see the outcome clearly. Tomorrow is another day and I bet that we won’t have half the battle and we will have a better respect for each other as well. And in the end, I think we will all be alright.

Just One of Those Weeks

It was a series of misfortunate events. How many times in the last couple of weeks have I said that? My favorite applications for the phrase: house work not getting done, the random gardening mess on the counter, weight gain: most definitely a good one, schedule, heated arguments, random wacky things that need fixed after the kids wreck them. I know that I have a lot of things to distract me. Well, I have at least THREE great distractions to begin with.  And there always seems to be something to do at my house. Just as soon as I sit down to write something else happens or catches my attention.

These are supposed to be some of the best times of parenting. We are finally past the three kids under three phase, where you can barely catch your breath. A break from the hourly rotating diaper change routine. We can go to the park and it’s actually fun for all of us! I can drink my coffee while it’s hot, read the news in the morning uninterrupted, take a shower without the house being burnt down or the kids parading through the neighborhood lost.

Instead, I get to remind my husband that it's time to come home from work, listen to how life is never fair to the seven year old, be told that I am not doing things correctly by the five year old and be told by the four year old that he only has a dad now. (Yes, the same dad who thought it was a brilliant solution to now set an alarm at work to tell him it’s time to come home. Must be nice to like your job that much and forget that it’s past 6, dinner's been ready for a half hour and the kids go to bed at 8.) Add onto that a wife who has been dealing with these crazies and you almost have a circus.

I mean, really, I am almost ready for the circus. My eyebrows have taken on a migratory pattern off of their own. They are finding new paths every couple weeks. Not to mention, I am finding random stray hairs: like on my neck. What? Nooooo, who forgot to tell you about that crazy later in life hormone change when you were glowing with new love or pregnancy back in your twenties? Then I had to go and buy a magnifying mirror so I could see the hairs.

Adding to the crazy train is the ever entertaining efforts to keep a house in a presentable state. I am quite through with telling the kids to quit destroying stuff. Two days ago, it was pulling up the still fragile pieces of lawn to find worms. I went out to clumps of grass everywhere, because they had pulled the sheets of turf up that have failed to root properly since last year. Who does that? Why should anyone have to tell their kids to leave the lawn on the ground?

Later, that afternoon, I had to tell them to scrub the chapstick art work off the closet doors. In an effort to make up for the chapstick, I am sure, (cause I would HATE for it to be yet another random substance on the wall) I caught them with a stolen sponge and the 409 working on a wall. A for effort, but did I really have to tell them to put the cleaning supplies back where they belong? The five year old has also somehow forgot all the previous lessons of toddlerhood. The other day, she shredded a whole roll of toilet paper. It was down the hall and in the kids’ room in the time that it took for me to carry on a ten minute phone conversation. 

My favorite was the day that I decided to sort through the kids’ stuff in their rooms. One huge yard bag of clothes, one smaller yard bag of garbage, a mister clean eraser and a lot of vacuuming later, I managed to totally clear out the girls’ room. When the oldest got home, she told me that their room looked much better arranged this way than it did before.  After dad got home, we discussed some other changes and moved a few things around further, she got the vacuum out to “clean up the spots I missed” and told me she cleaned their room. 

So here I am, in my fourth or fifth attempt to write my blog this week, looking at three (generous number) unfinished projects I started today and drinking my tea. Thankfully, the eyebrows got waxed, some seeds got planted, some more stuff got taken care of… but while doing those things, I neglected others. I’m laughing at Facebook posts: one from a friend asking why she has to remind her 7 year old not to bite her sister, another saying it’s definitely a day for chocolate and another looking for some motivation. I have three kids in corners and we’re all waiting for dad’s alarm to go off at work. It's just one of those weeks.

The Rhthym of Writing

The cadence of the tapping of the keyboard beats like a heart, bringing life back to a mind that lay dormant during the long winter of events. The wings of the mind begin to unfurl as creativity swirls in the brain. As the wings begin to rise and fall, they sync with the rhythm of the keys. Slowly, at first, the sentences tumble onto the page and begin to level out, beating strong, developing a life of their own. Fingers arched, hovering over the keys in perfect formation, the thoughts begin to fill the page. Inspiration, the desire to be someone else, someone new, brings a novel out of the steady beat. Thoughts, contrasts, dreams take on a life of their own. The excitement causes the pace to pick up. With determination, she begins to tap her teeth with her tongue to the rhythm of the keyboard. Her feet begin to join as the characters become real. Her heart soars over the dismal weather and the shoddy circumstances as she lives a different life on paper. The anticipation of what is to come fuels her fire.  Hope begins to take flight as she labors over this work of art. The disappointments that she has seen take on a whole new life. The bitterness begins to dissipate as the wheels turn in her head. The fate of the people she writes about is bringing healing to her own disappointments. The steady beat of the battered heart as it begins to beat again is living on the pages of creativity. She finds joy and happiness. There is resolution in the masterpiece that brings the healing process to a complete cycle. Moving forward, she picks up momentum. The jubilant triumph of giving birth to something new puts a fire in her heart to truly live again, instead of merely writing about it. As she retires that night, exhausted with creation, she hears that rhythm that she typed with, resonating in the chambers of her heart to the depths of her soul. She falls asleep satisfied, full of hope, promise and dreams of what can happen tomorrow. 

April 2009

Rainy Day Prose

Under the rainy sky, the rest of the world slowly turns emerald green. The brown robin with his red breast looks cheery for once as he busily prepares his nest in the tree. The smell of dirt permeates the humid air. The rhubarb grows in epic proportions, unfurling its twisted leaves. The warm glow of a lamp makes the house cozy and bright. In such circumstances the creative mind delights. 

My Very Own Time Machine!

For Mother’s Day, I received my very own time machine! It is sleek, compact, has a touch screen and beautiful curves.  It has the capability to take me from everyday life into a myriad of new places waiting to be explored. The possibilities are endless. As I plugged it in, I giggled with glee and began making plans for all sorts of new adventures. 

I don’t usually make big purchases on my own. A couple of weeks ago, I bought a Pandigital Novel e-reader. My heart raced as I walked through Best Buy to make the transaction. I was reassured that if I didn’t like it, I could bring it back within thirty days. I really thought that it was going to take me places. (Well, honestly, I thought that it was going to save me fuel for the weekly trips to the library, both of which are on opposite ends of town from us.) 

After a couple of weeks of use I really just wanted to throw it at the wall and be done with it. It was one of the hardest devices to figure out. No stranger to new electronics, my husband and I both felt it was difficult to use. Being the indulgent man (okay, maybe observant would be a better word after the many sighs and groans that I emitted while using the reader) that he is, Wayne offered to upgrade it to the Nook Color. 

I had originally wanted the Nook Color, but went with the Pandigital Novel for most of the same features with a lower cost. The Pandigital Novel was most definitely a time machine in itself. I consumed many hours trying to figure out how to use it, download books to it and where everything was. I also spent a lot of time trying to get it to load or reboot, just turning pages. That doesn’t even count the hours that I spent troubleshooting on Google. I was really bummed, because I put a lot of time and thought into this new toy. 

Thankfully, Best Buy was good to their word and exchanging it was quick and efficient. On top of it, they gave me a $25 gift card! Boosted by their goodwill, I went home to plug it in and see what I had been missing. When you have done things the hard way, the easy way is a very obvious transition! It was like going from a gas guzzling here to there car to a luxury ride. 

I was so pleased to spend less time working on loading my expansive reading material and more time actually reading it! It worked! I troubleshooted a few of my questionable files and was able to build an enviable library in one compact little screen. My doubt in my technical skills was immediately eliminated. But the return of my ability to travel from the Paleolithic era, through early American History and into the future was the most valuable.  

As I sit here just about to dive into another session of reading on my Nook, I want to take the time to say: 

Thank you Wayne, for your love, your support and being my partner in crime in this Mom thing! Thank you for the thoughtful addition of a bouquet of flowers, running errands, helping with the household tasks and breakfast. You're the bestest... ;)

Thank you to my three funny, strong, independent kids who keep me on my toes and fill my blog with funny and sometimes satirical experiences of being a Mother. You aren't just work, you are my specialty, in all of your unique ways!

To my mother, my mother in law, my sister, my friends, who are wonderful mothers, to the ones that are mothers in their own way, to all of the women who nurture, provide and protect those who they consider their own: Happy Mother’s Day. May you find the time to travel new paths that sustain you and bring you to the next adventure, through books, through song, through sewing or just being you!