Wednesday's

Wednesday mornings are my "Chanelle Morning".  Charlie is at pre-school and Chanelle and I spend the morning doing, well, whatever.  We had a fun one today. 

I often refer to Chanelle as "my little contradiction".  She has quite the tom-boy side to her.  She loves to get her hands dirty, play outside, and she is fearless when it comes to any animal or insect.  I have seen her pick up frogs, snakes, daddy long leg spiders, and even mice without a problem.  Blah.  But then there is this other side to her that likes all things girly.  Dresses, heels, hair ribbons, jewelry, and anything princess-related.

When Chanelle wakes up on Wednesday mornings and learns that it's Charlie's school day one of the first requests is typcially, "can we paint my nails?"   Who am I to deny her?

"Wow, Mommy, it's so beautiful.  It's amazing!"  I love her genuine enthusiasm.  After we finish beautifying her fingers and toes her sweet voice utters the words I dread hearing. . . "Can I paint your nails, Mommy?" 

Ugh.  The dilemma in my head goes something like this. . . "should I let her do it and give her a moment of joy or should I deny her and avoid the hassle of a possible (likely) mess."  It would be a lot easier just to redirect her and do something else, but if you heard the sweetness in her voice. . . you wouldn't be able to deny it either. . .

Sorry for the blurry pics, but I'm looking pretty fancy, eh?  Despite the appearance of my nails, I was glad I let her do it.  She was feeling quite proud of her artwork and so we moved on. . .

Yesterday's rain was traded for a bright sunlit day that called out to us.  Chanelle thought her baby and Elmo needed to get outside since they have been cooped up.  She's quite the Mommy. . .

These days might seem so dull to a more adventurous soul.  For me, though, I love it.  I love experiencing these snapshots of time that go by so quickly and are as beautiful as they are monotonous.  And we finished our walk in time to greet Charlie who returned home after having a special lunch out with Gramps. . .

Yep, that's Wednesday to us. 

That it will never come again, is what makes life so sweet 

Emily Dickinson

Pitter-Patter and PJs

Fall.  Can I talk about it too much?  Probably. . .but there are so many facets to it, I can't help myself.  There are the days when I am fooled into thinking it must be 80 degree's outside as Fall's brilliant sun shines.  A step outside reveals my mistake as the crisp air meets my skin.  And then there are days when the wind  blows and the orange, brown, and red leaves begin to tumble to the ground creating a cascade of beauty that is as inviting as a stunning piece of art.  And then there are days like today. . .Days when clouds cover the sky and temperatures fall and it rains from beginning to end.

I love these days.  Love them!  In fact, when I looked at the forecast and saw that it was likely going to rain all day, I declared a PJ day!  This is a big deal to our kids.  When Charlie heard the news he exclaimed, "AWESOME!". 

So, when the kids woke up this morning they were ready to be at home.  Gone was our usual errand running, appointments, meeting friends at parks, and seemingly endless running that happens more often than not.  This was a day to be inside. . . in our PJs.  We played games, watched movies, and a favorite of everyone. . . Play-Doh. 

This one is mine. . . you're impressed aren't you?

As much as I love going and doing, there is something special about the days when it is just us. . . together. . .at home.  I am served muli-colored food in a Play-doh restaurant run by my little blondies.  Ice cream sundaes, bananas, pies, water, lemonade, and a special "fix-your-belly-ache potion to complete the meal.  

I love getting this glimpse into their imaginations and I am drawn in completely.  We sit together and eat our pretend food and drink while they both tell me of the circus they will perform later in the evening.  As we talk we listen to the rain pitter-patter on the windows and snuggle inside like most do on days like today.  Inside, that is, until the idea is presented. . . 

"Let's play in the rain!" 

Does it make me a bad mom to let my kids play in the rain when it is 50 degrees outside?  Once the idea is out there, there is no escaping it. . . 

For this they will gladly tear out of their PJs. . .

These are the moments when I just wish I had a pause button.  The moments I want to live in forever.  They are such simple moments, but the proclamations of "This is amazing!" and "I can't believe we are doing this!" are the ingredients of a perfect day.  I don't know that I could ever tire of their enthusiasm, excitement, and ability to live in this moment. 

 I take in their smiles and their giggles and it is food for my soul.  I am so happy to be right here and it feels so surreal . . . I can't believe this is my life and these are my children.  How did I get here?  I feel so blessed as I drink it all in.  Thankful, oh so thankful. 

Kids will be kids, though, and in the end our outside adventure had to come to an end when Chanelle broke into tears. . .

She was upset because, "Charlie got me wet!" 

Teeth chattering and sopping wet they insisted that they put their PJ's back on because it's PJ day.  And so we did. . .

. . .  and we sit together while we warm our insides with hot chocolate and talk about the "awesome" time we had.  And in that moment, I am sure of it. . . this is the perfect day. 

The Nothing Box

Did you know that men have a nothing box?  I know, I was shocked too but apparently it’s true.

Let me explain using the following scenario. . .

Chad and I are in the car and I notice that he's quiet.  I imagine that he must be contemplating the meaning of life, the complexity of the human existence or something similar, like how much he adores me.  So I look over at him and the following conversation takes place:

   

Me: “Whatcha thinking about?”
 

He takes a moment to respond and in those seconds the build up of excitement in my mind is like the Christmas Eve to a child.  I think to myself. . . this is going to be a great conversation!. . . And then he opens his mouth to respond. . .

  

Chad:  “Nothing.”

My typical response in such situations takes some form of the following.

Me:  “You can’t be thinking about nothing! Seriously, tell me.  What are you thinking about?”

Again he tells me.  “Nothing.” 

Since I'm not one to give up easily I will persist with my interrogation:

“I don’t understand why you can’t just tell me what you are thinking about.  Is something wrong?  Are you upset about something?  Don’t you trust me?”

Again he insists he is thinking about nothing and I am left feeling frustrated and confused as to why my husband just won’t share what is on his mind.  Until recently, that is, when I learned about the “Nothing Box”.

According to Mark Gungor in his book Laugh Your Way to a Better Marriage, available here, men truly have a “Nothing Box”.   The author describes,

There is a special box in a man’s head that most women don’t know about.  This particular box has nothing in it.  We refer to it as the “nothing box.” It’s called that because it contains, well. . . nothing.  It’s just an empty box.  And amazingly, of all the boxes stacked in a man’s brain, his “nothing box” is his favorite box.  If given the opportunity, a man will always go straight to his nothing box. 

This was truly enlightening information to me.  I had no idea!

He goes on to cite a neurophysiologist who has shown that 70 percent of the electrical activity of men’s brains shut down when they are in a resting state.  Women, however, maintain a full 90 percent of their electrical activity.  

After reading this, so many things made more sense to me. Like why my husband can sit peacefully and enjoy a movie while my mind is going 100 miles an  hour as I plan meals for the next week, make a mental grocery list, and try to figure out how I might contribute to creating peace on earth. . . . for some reason, I have to ask lots of questions during any given movie.  

If what Mr. Gungor says is true, when Chad says nothing he really means. . . “Nothing”.  Who knew?  Now, rather than getting frustrated and concerned that that our marriage is failing, I understand that he’s probably visiting his“Nothing Box”. . . 

And if I'm being truly honest. . . I'm a bit jealous.  I would love a Nothing Box.

Where We Live

I am currently sitting with a warm blanket wrapped around my shoulders and sipping a hot drink to warm my shivering body.  I was sure it must be a mere 40 degrees outside and am shocked to find that it's actually 58.  It's hard to believe that the thermometer will tumble so much more as the days on the calender tick by.  I know that there are times when I take for granted the beauty of this place and even complain at times that it is too hot or too cold.  I love the change of the seasons, though, and this weekend I was reminded why.

As September draws to a close and October prepares to open its doors there are so many exciting opportunities.  This weekend we had a new one that delighted not only the little ones, but the big ones as well.  Our family spent a glorious Saturday afternoon together doing things I never thought we would do.  An afternoon that included feeding and petting giraffe's, kangaroos, camels, horses, goats, and sheep. . . to name a few. 

Chad and his friendly giraffe

That's the kangaroo!

Chanelle and her camel

As I touched the animals and watched the kids reach in to feed them, I was struck with awe.  Awe at these beautiful creations that are so distinctly diverse and yet amazingly similar at the same time.  While I watched my kids reach their open hands forward and the animals stretch outward to gently gobble up their food, all I could repeat was "wow, I can't believe this!"

The experience with the animals would have been enough to make my week, but there was so much more.  I wonder if I lived in a big city or in warmer climates if these experiences would be available.  Will you find a huge straw maze in every town?

These two were fearless and put the adults to shame with the speed at which they made it through the maze.  When I got lost, Charlie rolled his eyes and graciously led me out. . . my walk of shame.

Oh, and who could forget the massive bin of corn where kids played, laughed, and explored? 

I certainly couldn't as the corn fell to the floor when clothing was removed for evening baths. 

As I look at these images and remember the sights and sounds of a beautiful Saturday afternoon, I find myself feeling so blessed to live in this place at this time.  I would not trade these experiences for anything.  And as I sit and recall the smiles that my children wore and the sounds of glee that escaped from their lips I find myself hoping that they carry these memories with them.  Even if they forget that they pet a kangaroo or a giraffe and if they forget that they found their way through a huge straw maze or played in a massive box of corn kernals I hope that they always remember the most important thing. . .

. . . we were together.

Listen to your life. All moments are key moments.

Frederick Buechner

Courage, lunch, and stories

Today is day 1.  I am as excited as I am anxious.  The pen is in my hand and the story has not yet been written.  .  I wonder what might happen.  I wonder if I might change. . . do I really need to change? 

Then I read words that stir my heart, move me, and seem to scream out to me. . .the time is now!

“Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one's courage.”

Anais Nin

I will say it again.  My goal is not a "big" life, but a full life. Full of love, full of laughter, full of feeling free being who I am. 

I expect that I will write about some of my daily steps of courage in this blog, but not all of them.  I will reserve many for my personal journal.  In all reality, I believe that the simple moments of every day are the most extraordinary.  I am inspired most by the conversations I have with people who sojourn with me even if on a different path.  I am more and more aware each day that there are nuggets of wisdom in almost every conversation.  Whether the words come from the little ones with whom I share my home, those who walk along side me on a similar journey, or those who have already beaten the path before me and have the scars to prove it. . . there is much to drink in and I am so thirsty!  

Just this week the kids and I had a spontaneous lunch with Chad's dad.  We sat with our table cluttered by pizza, salads, and diet-cokes and we talked.  Like a perfectly choreographed dance he shared of his continuing battle with cancer and I shared about my journey of grief.  He talked of watching his mom's health fail and I shared of my coping as an injured runner.  These conversations were intermittently interrupted by the pleas of a 2 and 4-year old begging for us to be done talking.  And I found myself, once again, recognizing that no price tag could be placed on this moment.  For when we share our stories we find how similar we really are and in sharing these stories I find myself better fueled to continue this course. . .  one day at a time.

 I admit my theme might get boring and maybe you have heard it too much.  But I continue to feel incredibly  thankful for this life and the opportunity to live these moments.  Does that mean all things are perfect and painless? By no means.  It just means that even if through a sheath on some days, I see so much worth being thankful for and on this day I am thankful for a lunch with Gramps.

And, of course, Gramps made sure the kids were handsomely awarded for their patience (or lack thereof) before we parted company for the day.  What kid doesn't need to play air hockey. . .

. . . or a toy from a vending machine?

These are the days we will ALL remember.

High Tide

They say that grief comes in waves.  

Today it has been high tide.

I miss her.

I am angry.

It was just too soon.

My journey continues and I trust that all with be okay. . . in time

We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey.

Kenji Miyazawa

"My very first flower show."

Words uttered by my daughter at the close of a delightful morning spent at my in-laws.  Chanelle was quite pleased with the works of her hand as she showed off the colorful creation of her very first flower show. . 

 How I wish I had such an imagination.  As often as it happens, I am still struck with awe when I watch, listen, and take in words of such innocence.  This was how our morning ended. It is expressions like these that spark my desire to box up these moments and secure them like fine treasures so as to be able to open them up and remember and re-experience them whenever I need a "fix" of the beauty of such raw innocence. 

But alas, they will grow and things will be in constant flux with each new stage.  So I continue on this journey to grab on to these moments. . . all of these moments that are so ordinary and yet so unique because they are mine.  And today a new experience that I drank in and thought to myself. . . right here and right now we are making memories. . .

This time the memory revolves around something so simple and so ordinary. . .

Corn! Dozens and dozens of ears of corn.  Yep, that is what we Ohioan's do.  We husk corn.  Lots and lots of corn. 

And while it might seem that corn takes the center stage, it is quite the opposite.  Corn played only a supporting role.  The main characters in this show were the people, the relationships, the time.

Here we are on a beautiful fall morning.  My MIL, SIL, Chanelle and Charlie who found his way out of the shot.  It seems so simple, so mundane, so. . . messy.  But what I was thinking as we tore tore away at the husks and worked the silks away from the kernels,  is that this is a special moment.  We are women from different generations, varied backgrounds, and diverse personalities. . . family by chance, but friends by choice.  These are special ladies. Our time was spent together telling stories about what was, what is, and what could be in each of our lives.  Sharing, laughing, and just being. . . together.

And it is in this tearing, cleaning, boiling, and cutting that we know each other better and are known better .  And I am reminded, once again, that it is the simplicity of each day that matters.  I am completely captured by the reality that I get to write my own story.  And while one might look at our daily activities as monotonous and dull, I look and see beauty and excitement.  And as I drove away from this lovely morning with the smell of fresh corn following me like a strong perfume and my clothes adorned with kernels of bi-color Ohio corn,  I found myself feeling so thankful that I am alive to live this beautiful story. 

Life. . .

If someone were to ask what is most important to me in life I would need no time to ponder.  My answer would come more quickly than the inquirer could blink an eye or take a breath. My response would not include a diatribe that involved words such as money, success, or even security. Nope, my answer would come in one simple word.

Relationships.

Sometimes, I am ashamed to say, when I get caught up with the daily happenings of motherhood, or the disappointments of a stress fracture, or the change that loss brings, this simple truth is forgotten.  I go on in life fretting about minute details that don't really matter and I neglect to stop and recognize what is really important.

This weekend, though, I was reminded.  Oh, how I was reminded. . .

On Saturday morning at 4 a.m. the alarm sounded and we awoke to make the four-hour trip to visit friends.  This trip was to visit a woman that I met unexpectedly while in grad school.  It's funny how some things happen, isn't it?  I went to grad school a few years after we were married and before we had any little ones running around our home.  We were pretty settled and during that time had two little blessings join our family in the form of Charlie and Chanelle.  My only intent in going back to school was to get that piece of paper that would allow me to pursue the career of my dreams.  I came away with so much more when I met this woman who has journeyed this life with me ever since.

Back to Saturday. . . By 5 a.m. we loaded our little ones p.j.'d bodies into the car for our first visit with these friends across state lines.  The kids were so excited they did not go back to sleep.  We had to leave early because we knew we had to soak up each moment as the distance makes these visits absolutely precious and too far between.  

Because we have busy lives and live so far apart it has been a year since I spent significant face-to-face time with this woman.  Phone calls are frequent, but nothing like sitting together in the same space. . . . and that is what we did.  We spent the day together doing what families do and these friends made sure to give our kids a great time. . .

There is something that reaches into the depths of my heart like nothing else. . . watching people truly engage with my kids.  I mean truly take an interest in them and  playing with them.  And let me tell you, these beautiful people did that and our kids adored them and became comfortable more quickly than I've ever seen.

 

We were so excited to meet their little one for the first time and it was a gift to watch our friends adore their daughter who is soon to be a big sister.   

 

This was also the first meeting of our husbands.  That can be a scary thing, you know?  Will they get along?  Will they have things in common?  My fears were quickly put to rest when I saw that not only were they able to talk with ease, but they could play, too. .

Does it get any better than that?  Well, yes, it does. . . I'm glad you asked.

Do you know those moments when you think to yourself, this is something special and I wish this moment didn't have to end?  I had one of those this weekend.  The little ones had been put to bed completely spent with an activity filled day, the moon had risen to its heights and the "big people" sprawled out on couches in the living room. . . where we talked, we laughed, and enjoyed the company of one another.  It was in this moment that I was reminded that this is what life is all about.  This talking about anything and everything with ease because this space, these people are the real deal.  People who are the comfort of home because of the ease at which they live life.  People that make you feel safe and comfortable to be who you are, because they are who they are.  No masks and no pretense. . . just real. 

Relationships can be difficult and complicated, but when all is said in done, I truly believe that relationships-- good, solid, healthy relationships--with spouses, family, friends and God are vital to a joyful existence.  I am so thankful to have had this reminder that once again confirmed my belief that life really is all about relationships

 "However rare true love is, true friendship is rarer."

-La Rochefoucauld

To Be Brave

Something happened to me today when I read this blog post.  As my eyes passed over the words and my mind processed what they were saying, I experienced a physical reaction.  I could feel the thump-thump of my heart increase with each word and my breath was coming more quickly as I took it all in. I am pretty new to this blog thing and since this post was written nearly three years ago, it may very well be old news to most. For me, however, I was supposed to read it today. 

You see, yesterday, Charlie came home from pre-school and I could tell he was upset.  It took several hours before he was ready to talk about it and he finally told me me that he was tired of playing a game with someone at school. . . but he never spoke up.

My son tends to be timid.  A bit shy.  He hates to be noticed.  He is very slow to use his voice in public.  My son is so much like his mother. I spent much of today processing this and wondering what I can do to help him.  I don't want him to be fearful.  I want him to be confident enough to use his voice.  I want him to understand that even though he is scared. . . it is better to try something scared, than to not try it at all.  So when I read the following  words by Elenore Rosevelt, I knew it was time for me to take action. 

Do one thing every day that scares you.

These words are exactly what I needed to hear.  I was struck with the reality that I can not expect Charlie to do anything that I will not do myself.  So, here I am ready to embark on this Be Brave Project as presented in this awesome challenge.  

I like the number 1 rule to the challenge:

*MAKE YOUR OWN RULES

    . . . so that is what I intend to do.  

My heart and my spirit stir at the possibilities.  So much of my life is and has been spent doing things that are comfortable.  I have known for some time that I need to step outside of my comfort zone and do things that don't feel so good, but will pay off in the long run.  I will take a few days (no longer than a week) to think about this and then will embark on this journey of risk. 

What I like about this challenge is that it gives anyone the freedom to define their own journey.  What is scary for one might not be scary for another. . . and that is okay.  It is my journey or your journey.  I am excited!  I am so very excited to challenge myself in this way.  I hope that this can become a lifestyle and that my example might speak more to Charlie than my words every could.   

I hope to will write about this.  I will write about this journey and see where it leads. . . even if it is not as successful as I hope. 

My first scary act?  Setting a date. . . it makes it real. . . a committment. . . 

Start date will be Sept  25th.  Anyone careto join me?

Parenting Hot Topics

I am not one to get deeply involved (or involved at all) in the hot topic debates that accompany Motherhood.  You know those I'm talking about. . .

Natural birth vs. Epidural
Breast vs. Bottle
Stay at Home vs. Working Mom
Vaccinations vs. No vaccinations.

. . . to name a few.  It's not that I don't care about these topics. . . I'm just of the belief that each woman/family can make their own decisions and I truly respect that. 

I do not read a lot of parenting books, magazines, and other resources.  I have found that they tend to make me more anxious than make me a better parent.  After Charlie was born someone gave me a "First Year" book that told me what he was supposed to be doing each minute during his first year.  (Okay, maybe not each minute, but it seemed like it.)  If he wasn't doing this or that I would worry that something must be wrong or I am parenting him wrong.  After awhile I had to chuck the book and trust my own God-given instincts when raising my little guy. And guess what?. . . His first year went perfectly fine and far more pleasant after the book went into the trash.

Note: I said "perfectly fine" not perfect.  I am not a parenting expert and I'm not above checking out resources for specific questions or ideas for parenting. . . For the most part, though, Chad and I decided to trust our guts.

I would bet that anyone who has a new baby at some point hears or makes the statement  "I wish they came with an instruction manual".  I must say that I'm glad that they don't or I would see only those things I am not doing right.  If I had to write a manual based on my own very limited knowledge, though, I think it would go something like this:

LOVE THEM TO PIECES. . . FROM THE BEGINNING UNTIL THE END. . .

THE END.

Okay, so maybe it's not that simple. . . but maybe it is?  Love means so many things and can be expressed in so many ways and while I know I am FAR from the perfect parent, I absolutely adore these kiddos.  I  hope that whatever trials they face in their lives and wherever they might go they always know we love them and try to show it in so many ways. . .

By snuggling with them. . . taking moments to sit and just be with them. 

By playing with them. . .

They both beat the pants off of me playing these games this afternoon. 

By exploring the world in books. . .

and in nature. . .

They worked long and hard to catch a grasshopper that was quite feisty in his numerous escapes.

By telling them how proud of them we are. . .

And how much we believe in them. . .

And of course, by setting boundaries. . .

 

I make my living listening to people recount their stories.  Often these stories are painful and heart-wrenching and have negatively impacted their lives in numerous ways.  To date, I have not had a single individual enter my office and talk about the pain they feel at their mothers choice to bottle-feed or her choice to have an epidural at he or she's birth.  Often, I hear about how they did not feel loved and accepted.  

 I guess what I am trying to say is that  for me these are the "hot topics."  Asking myself how am I doing at loving them?  How often do I catch them doing things right?  How often to I let them know how proud of them I am?  Am I allowing myself to be fully present with them?  Am I teaching, rather than preaching?  Am I noticing their uniqueness. . . and celebrating it? 

In all reality, I get that this is it. . . my only chance and I really want to do it well.  I'll admit it, some days are better than others. . . way better. . . 

I am, after all, a work in progress.   

"The Golden Rule of Parenting is:  Do unto your children as you wish your parents had done unto you!"

-Louise Hart