I've been thinking a lot lately about perspective. A week or so ago (all my days run together...) I went with 3 MOPS friends to visit a pediatric care facility that houses 119 severely disabled children. I think the term 'disabled' is now a faux pas, but you need to understand these children have extreme physical needs. A few times I had to pray to God to stop my tears from coming out of my eyes...He did. I had to put my mind in a different place once or twice, because to be actually emotionally present would have led to completely breaking down. Now, because of Bailey's quarterly CHOP visits, I have seen many children incapacitated and what usually brings me to tears is not their lot, but the way my child reacts to it. With empathy, and deep love. Prayers, and giving her deserved stickers and erasers to them, even though they can't see or know she is giving. But this time, my emotions were for the children...all that they would never be able to do, and their parents. I'm still thinking about the parents.
My children can run, skip, swim, dive, jump.... their children will never set their toes to the floor.
My children can read, write, sing, communicate, say 'I Love You'....their children mostly can not.
My children can eat and drink...their children will never know the taste of a cherished family recipe.
My children see, hear, feel, understand....these parents are left to wonder what their child thinks of their world.
My children have social relationships, and will have boyfriends....these parents will never sit in a pew on their child's wedding day.
My children's bodies are healthy and able to have babies someday....their children will not be able to make them grandparents.
From morning to evening, there a million things my girls will do that these kids will never be able to. Of course I knew this before, but it was not a presence in my mind, certainly not daily. It would come to mind when I saw a particular child with needs....the whole "Lord, care for him/her. But thank you it is not my child." True, right?
Both Bailey and Taylor have a need that yes, I wish they didn't. Bailey's future is unknown (except by her Maker!!!) with her CF, and I admit that I feel much fear sometimes. I try not to, because I know God doesn't want me to and I pray it's all for naught, perhaps there will be a cure or perhaps her mutation is mild enough it doesn't ever manifest itself into serious lung disease and, God forbid, premature death. I pray. Taylor's sensory needs are manageable, and getting easier for her and Kevin and I to navigate every day. Both of our girls are just so healthy, I just have been FILLED with a spirit of gratitude that has not left me, since my visit to this center. I catch myself appreciating things in a deeper, more emotional way, than I had before. The way their hands clasp together when we pray. The fact that they can pray. The way they shimmy their bums after a shower in their towels. Running ahead of me in the store. Sitting cross legged together playing with their polly pockets, using their fingers to grasp the tiny pieces. I've been marveling at the complex way - yet easily overlooked, seemingly, effortlessly simple - their bodies work.
And still...and STILL...I have been also forgetting. Catching myself exasperated when they're running ahead of me in the store. Playing polly pockets before school....hurry up the bus is going to come!! Stop dancing around, it's past your bedtime, dry off already!
To be sure, I try to be patient with my kids. It is in my mind daily, that this little-girl time of their life is precious. Speeding by. If you have read my blog at all, you know this is a struggle for me!!! I enjoy where we are now, but I mourn for days that were, even though I have already knowingly romanticized them in my mind!!! I try to enjoy them, knowing their childlike hearts are sacred. Knowing that they won't always want to crawl on my lap....when they do now, their long, gangly legs curl around mine, toes touching the floor. I know they won't always want me to sing them bedtime lullies, so I try to be patient when they ask for one more. But I get tired, I get shortsighted...I am a MOM. Pulled in many different directions at any given time. Feeling underappreciated, feeling spent.
But I am praying to keep my perspective, I want to keep my sight on how blessed my life is with my family. Sure my children will need disciplined - often - and it would be a rare person that doesn't lose her cool when she happens upon a child who mistook a permanent marker for a regular one and didn't have a placemat underneath...on the carpet. But that really doesn't matter. My children need to learn of course, but I need to remember what really matters, what's important.
I need to keep perspective.
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Sunday, October 9, 2011
I thought I'd never allow it...
As I write this, my girls are watching a Barbie movie. UCK! I was thinking about how pre-children, especially pre-girls-influenced-by-other-girls, I thought I'd never let them have Barbies, much less 10, much less watch Barbie movies. If we had a bigger house they might even have a Barbie house with a Barbie car parked out front. With 2 scantily clad Barbies who have perky, big breasts compared to their skinny, tiny waists, tucked inside.
And here we are. Why did I abandon my principles? How did I get over my disgust of Barbie enough to let her and some of her closest pals move inside my house?! It happened slowly I guess.
Another I-thought-I'd-never is Spongebob. The girls saw a show playing on the tv somewhere - I forget where, maybe a dentist's office or something - and they cracked up. A lot. Which made me crack up. So I let them watch a show once in a while, saying "Remember girls, we don't talk like that..." when Spongebob would say 'stupid' or other offensive comments. Recently, I have said no to them watching that particular show at all, because I thought I could actually hear their brain cells dying.
For now, Barbie has a home here. And Ken. What happened to Skipper, wasn't she Barbie's right hand girl? Anyway, I think most parents have relented on a thing or two. What has been yours?
And here we are. Why did I abandon my principles? How did I get over my disgust of Barbie enough to let her and some of her closest pals move inside my house?! It happened slowly I guess.
Another I-thought-I'd-never is Spongebob. The girls saw a show playing on the tv somewhere - I forget where, maybe a dentist's office or something - and they cracked up. A lot. Which made me crack up. So I let them watch a show once in a while, saying "Remember girls, we don't talk like that..." when Spongebob would say 'stupid' or other offensive comments. Recently, I have said no to them watching that particular show at all, because I thought I could actually hear their brain cells dying.
For now, Barbie has a home here. And Ken. What happened to Skipper, wasn't she Barbie's right hand girl? Anyway, I think most parents have relented on a thing or two. What has been yours?
 |
| My pretty pretties, at Easter. The Easter bunny gave them a Barbie. |
Friday, October 7, 2011
My 2 cents about marriage
So Kevin and I recently started attending a marriage tune-up series within our small group at church. We had become involved with this small group several months ago - there are 6 or 7 couples, most of them were good friends of ours already and the rest we have been getting to know better. What's nice is that we have become more comfortable over these past months so that now as we're getting into more "heavy lifting" we can feel more open with sharing with the group. Well, I'm usually always open and most of the girls in our group are too...I'm thinking about the men.
Anyway, this past week was the first video in the series. Then we went over a handout and answered some questions and talked about it a bit. It was a catalyst for Kevin and I to talk more with each other, which is always good. We are talkers (yes, shocking I know!) yes, but we don't often really delve into our thoughts about our marriage, unless it's positive. When we do talk about the negative, it seems to be before or after a fight. Or during. Hmmm.
This week I have been thinking about marriage - the different marriages I have witnessed, and why some have failed, some have survived but not thrived, and the few that are simply amazing. I have a few opinions - and like this blog itself, it's JUST my opinion.
For a marriage to thrive I think -
*They need Jesus!! Jesus is the only true model of grace, forgiveness, selflessness, love. For a Christian marriage that prioritizes faith and following Jesus, I believe they will receive blessings. Going to church regularly as a family, and participating in other church offered activities seems to bring couples and families closer together.
*It helps to have some money. That is a blanket statement but from what I see/read - many couples fight A LOT about money when they have none, and when they have a lot there are other problems caused in part from it. So some seems good. Also, when you have some, you can enjoy the money...a decent home in a good neighborhood, paying your bills in full, having some fun with it. When you are broke, the stress both partners feel trying to earn the money, and then deciding what-gets-paid-when, etc etc...adds a lot of stress. Stress leads to arguing, less sex, and other unpleasantries. They say money is a big factor in our country's horrid divorce rate.
*The couple should have very similar parenting philosophies.
*It helps to have a strong support system of family and friends that have BOTH of your backs.
*A couple should prioritize time alone, and not just 15 minutes while the kids watch a cartoon on a Saturday morning. Date nights and getaways are priceless...but come with a price...so this is where the some money part is helpful again. And the strong support system so you have babysitters.
*Now this is JUST my observation, so please no offense. AND this is true only for couples who have children living at home - but it seems to me that the more outside work both partners do, the more stress at home. SO, in an ideal situation, I would think a marriage would benefit from one partner working less or not at all outside the home.
*Along those lines, it seems that when a couple has defined "chores" or if they're both on the same page about housework and childrearing, all the better. Fighting about who does what/when and how much sleep they get or lose, or whose turn it is to do what....these small fights add up to feelings of resentment and bitterness. When a couple fights about who's going to do the laundry, or take out the trash...my feeling is, they are saying "I feel disrespected that you haven't done this chore, because I have done this-this-and-this and I am feeling used and abused...."
*A strong daily language of gratitude and love goes a long way. It appears that the more respectful and loving the couple speaks to each other, the more respectful and loving they feel towards each other.
*A couple that lays together, stays together. That's not true...but it helps.
*And...how about a couple that prays together, plays together...
*BUT having your own hobbies and time with friends separate from your spouse is healthy too.
*If a family has a special needs child, it seems to me that for a couple to remain healthfully and happily married, they need to have MORE of everything listed above. More money - insurance. More support - time outs individually and together. More attention to detail, more sweet talk between the couple, more respect, more gratitude, more more more.
*And last but not least....HUMOR!
I am sure there are many other factors that lead to a healthy marriage, and every marriage is different. For me, I had to have the kind of man that helped me shower after my difficult labor and c-section with Bailey. I still remember the feeling of love that came over me as he so tenderly washed me and didn't mind all of the blood and gore that came with childbirth. For others, the wife is happier keeping everything under wraps - literally. But finding what works is key, and feeling satisfied, heard, and loved.
Kevin and I love being married, but certainly have had too many arguments to count, and more tears than could fill a bucket. It's a work in progress and will be until the day we die. But I'm excited to learn more tools and ways to help our marriage along, so we don't just endure it, but enjoy it.
Anyway, this past week was the first video in the series. Then we went over a handout and answered some questions and talked about it a bit. It was a catalyst for Kevin and I to talk more with each other, which is always good. We are talkers (yes, shocking I know!) yes, but we don't often really delve into our thoughts about our marriage, unless it's positive. When we do talk about the negative, it seems to be before or after a fight. Or during. Hmmm.
This week I have been thinking about marriage - the different marriages I have witnessed, and why some have failed, some have survived but not thrived, and the few that are simply amazing. I have a few opinions - and like this blog itself, it's JUST my opinion.
For a marriage to thrive I think -
*They need Jesus!! Jesus is the only true model of grace, forgiveness, selflessness, love. For a Christian marriage that prioritizes faith and following Jesus, I believe they will receive blessings. Going to church regularly as a family, and participating in other church offered activities seems to bring couples and families closer together.
*It helps to have some money. That is a blanket statement but from what I see/read - many couples fight A LOT about money when they have none, and when they have a lot there are other problems caused in part from it. So some seems good. Also, when you have some, you can enjoy the money...a decent home in a good neighborhood, paying your bills in full, having some fun with it. When you are broke, the stress both partners feel trying to earn the money, and then deciding what-gets-paid-when, etc etc...adds a lot of stress. Stress leads to arguing, less sex, and other unpleasantries. They say money is a big factor in our country's horrid divorce rate.
*The couple should have very similar parenting philosophies.
*It helps to have a strong support system of family and friends that have BOTH of your backs.
*A couple should prioritize time alone, and not just 15 minutes while the kids watch a cartoon on a Saturday morning. Date nights and getaways are priceless...but come with a price...so this is where the some money part is helpful again. And the strong support system so you have babysitters.
*Now this is JUST my observation, so please no offense. AND this is true only for couples who have children living at home - but it seems to me that the more outside work both partners do, the more stress at home. SO, in an ideal situation, I would think a marriage would benefit from one partner working less or not at all outside the home.
*Along those lines, it seems that when a couple has defined "chores" or if they're both on the same page about housework and childrearing, all the better. Fighting about who does what/when and how much sleep they get or lose, or whose turn it is to do what....these small fights add up to feelings of resentment and bitterness. When a couple fights about who's going to do the laundry, or take out the trash...my feeling is, they are saying "I feel disrespected that you haven't done this chore, because I have done this-this-and-this and I am feeling used and abused...."
*A strong daily language of gratitude and love goes a long way. It appears that the more respectful and loving the couple speaks to each other, the more respectful and loving they feel towards each other.
*A couple that lays together, stays together. That's not true...but it helps.
*And...how about a couple that prays together, plays together...
*BUT having your own hobbies and time with friends separate from your spouse is healthy too.
*If a family has a special needs child, it seems to me that for a couple to remain healthfully and happily married, they need to have MORE of everything listed above. More money - insurance. More support - time outs individually and together. More attention to detail, more sweet talk between the couple, more respect, more gratitude, more more more.
*And last but not least....HUMOR!
I am sure there are many other factors that lead to a healthy marriage, and every marriage is different. For me, I had to have the kind of man that helped me shower after my difficult labor and c-section with Bailey. I still remember the feeling of love that came over me as he so tenderly washed me and didn't mind all of the blood and gore that came with childbirth. For others, the wife is happier keeping everything under wraps - literally. But finding what works is key, and feeling satisfied, heard, and loved.
Kevin and I love being married, but certainly have had too many arguments to count, and more tears than could fill a bucket. It's a work in progress and will be until the day we die. But I'm excited to learn more tools and ways to help our marriage along, so we don't just endure it, but enjoy it.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
I'm sorry, so sorry...
Tonight I took the girls to our town's library, after their art class. I'm actually really into our new routine, as their art class is right around the corner from the library so I think it will encourage us to go weekly. Every time we do, I'm reminded of how much I love spending time among the books, students, kids corner...and they have a couponing basket!!
Anyway, as we walked in tonight, I heard a child humming loudly. I didn't see him at first, just heard him. Within 5 seconds, I realized it was an autism-type of hum. I walked my children across the room to the bathroom - I was thankful that in the car I told them once we got to the library we had to wash our hands from the art class. Once we were in the bathroom, I reminded them that some children can't help the things they do, and this little boy might hum a lot while we were there and I wanted them to say a prayer for him in their heads, but to not say anything to him about his humming. Bailey is always a shoe-in for the kid-who-won't-embarrass-me, but Tatie Tot's a loose cannon. She has gotten SO much better, but I was unsure if she came nose to nose with the humming boy, that her questions, complaints or concerns might come spilling out.
We were there about 45 minutes, and what bothered me wasn't the boy's humming...it was his mom. His beautiful mom, there with her son and her other child, a daughter about 7. Her son looked about 5. She must have said "I'm sorry" about 50 times. What touched me so much was that her apologies were in front of her daughter, that made my heart break. She had nothing to be sorry for! She took her children to the LIBRARY...not an expensive restaurant. Just because her son has a special need, she shouldn't go places? Or she deserves to be there any less? AND...her son seemed to have a serious special need, but perhaps he knows what she's saying too.
I am so happy to say, that not only was Taylor - both my girls - on their best behavior, but it wasn't so long ago, that a noise like the humming would have prevented Taylor from enjoying the library at all. A year ago, definitely 2 years ago, I would have had to bribe Bailey with something, and had to leave, carrying a screaming Tatie in my arms. I am so thankful, that a trip to the library was so enjoyable for my girls and I. I did not say, 'I'm sorry' once.
It wasn't so long ago I was saying a lot of apologies. In front of my children. I apologized when Taylor held her ears during dance class because she hated the tapping noise. I apologized when she screamed at the Applebee's because the family at the next table ordered fajitas and she hated the smell and the smoke. I apologized to the checkout girl at the grocery store, as I balanced a mad Tatie on my hip as I threw foods that she hated to look at on the belt. I apologized to family, friends, teachers. Why was I sorry?
This woman tonight, she left the library skipping. Literally. Her son didn't want to leave, his humming became even louder and he was trying to fall to the floor and she half carried him skipping out the door, trying to get him to skip. How exhausted is this mom. I desperately wanted to approach her, but I get so nervous about doing that. It brings tears to me now, thinking of my missed opportunity, of my fear.
That should be what I'm sorry about. For not telling this mom she had nothing to be sorry for.
Anyway, as we walked in tonight, I heard a child humming loudly. I didn't see him at first, just heard him. Within 5 seconds, I realized it was an autism-type of hum. I walked my children across the room to the bathroom - I was thankful that in the car I told them once we got to the library we had to wash our hands from the art class. Once we were in the bathroom, I reminded them that some children can't help the things they do, and this little boy might hum a lot while we were there and I wanted them to say a prayer for him in their heads, but to not say anything to him about his humming. Bailey is always a shoe-in for the kid-who-won't-embarrass-me, but Tatie Tot's a loose cannon. She has gotten SO much better, but I was unsure if she came nose to nose with the humming boy, that her questions, complaints or concerns might come spilling out.
We were there about 45 minutes, and what bothered me wasn't the boy's humming...it was his mom. His beautiful mom, there with her son and her other child, a daughter about 7. Her son looked about 5. She must have said "I'm sorry" about 50 times. What touched me so much was that her apologies were in front of her daughter, that made my heart break. She had nothing to be sorry for! She took her children to the LIBRARY...not an expensive restaurant. Just because her son has a special need, she shouldn't go places? Or she deserves to be there any less? AND...her son seemed to have a serious special need, but perhaps he knows what she's saying too.
I am so happy to say, that not only was Taylor - both my girls - on their best behavior, but it wasn't so long ago, that a noise like the humming would have prevented Taylor from enjoying the library at all. A year ago, definitely 2 years ago, I would have had to bribe Bailey with something, and had to leave, carrying a screaming Tatie in my arms. I am so thankful, that a trip to the library was so enjoyable for my girls and I. I did not say, 'I'm sorry' once.
It wasn't so long ago I was saying a lot of apologies. In front of my children. I apologized when Taylor held her ears during dance class because she hated the tapping noise. I apologized when she screamed at the Applebee's because the family at the next table ordered fajitas and she hated the smell and the smoke. I apologized to the checkout girl at the grocery store, as I balanced a mad Tatie on my hip as I threw foods that she hated to look at on the belt. I apologized to family, friends, teachers. Why was I sorry?
This woman tonight, she left the library skipping. Literally. Her son didn't want to leave, his humming became even louder and he was trying to fall to the floor and she half carried him skipping out the door, trying to get him to skip. How exhausted is this mom. I desperately wanted to approach her, but I get so nervous about doing that. It brings tears to me now, thinking of my missed opportunity, of my fear.
That should be what I'm sorry about. For not telling this mom she had nothing to be sorry for.
Friday, September 23, 2011
Dreams
Bailey had a nightmare this week, and it freaked her out so much she was crying in school the next day. She has only had a few nightmares, but they really traumatize her. This past one, she dreamt that Taylor had an "itching disease" that made her whole body burn up and eat itself, and then she died. Poor thing! Of course as she recounted this to me the next morning, Taylor was right there and her eyes became as big as saucers hearing about Bailey dreaming that her skin had pointy things that stuck out and turned red and ate itself. We had a nice chat.
Every few months I have a nightmare, and thankfully I have an understanding husband who will - probably in his sleep but I'll take it - ask me what it was about at 3am and then hold me until I fall back asleep. Sometimes I can't go back to sleep bc it's so upsetting...like the one where I dreamt Bailey had a "Mr Wilson" in her school who stole her and she was a missing child. That was AWFUL and I seriously thought about keeping her home from school the next day. If she had a teacher named Mr Wilson I certainly would have been panicked!
Last night I didn't have a nightmare, but my dream was unpleasant. I dreamt I ran into my ex-boyfriend...we dated in high school for a couple years but I haven't seen him at all since I started college in '97. He was very special to me, my first love if you will....and I have wondered over the years here and there if he's as happy as I am, if he has love in his life. Anyway, I dreamt we ran into each other and he looked me up and down, and then said, "Oh. You look..." And so I said, "Weathered?" And he said, "Yeah...I guess...different."
That was it, then I woke up. I promptly told Kevin, who assured me I don't look weathered...but he's biased of course :) Thank God Kevin loves me so much. He sees me through these rose colored glasses, and I don't know why except that he just loves me and I am just so thankful for that. If I did run into my ex, I would be so embarrassed about how I look. I rarely pay to get my hair done, I get like 2 pedicures a year, never a manicure, my clothes are usually the colors of dark and darker, and of course there's my weight.
Today I kept thinking about being "weathered." I thought, you know I have done a lot of things I'm proud of since he and I broke up... and I was not thinking about that, just what he would think if he looked at me. Or I guess what I'm assuming he would think. Because if I ran into him and he maybe had a receding hairline, or a few wrinkles (no way would he be fat, it's just not in his DNA) I wouldn't really see that. I'd see the same eyes of the young boy who was the first boy to tell me he loved me, who bought me a ring for my 16th birthday from the Best store (that's really what the store was called), who wrote me love letters and took me to my school dances, who listened to me cry my eyes out for hours when I failed my driving test. I'd hope to see happiness in his face, that he is doing well in life and has love.
Well, it was just a dream. I may be a bit weathered...I have stretch marks, an 8yr old minivan not to mention an 8 yr old kid, bills, responsibilities. I'm no high school kid anymore.
Thank God.
I'm going to go snuggle my husband now.
Every few months I have a nightmare, and thankfully I have an understanding husband who will - probably in his sleep but I'll take it - ask me what it was about at 3am and then hold me until I fall back asleep. Sometimes I can't go back to sleep bc it's so upsetting...like the one where I dreamt Bailey had a "Mr Wilson" in her school who stole her and she was a missing child. That was AWFUL and I seriously thought about keeping her home from school the next day. If she had a teacher named Mr Wilson I certainly would have been panicked!
Last night I didn't have a nightmare, but my dream was unpleasant. I dreamt I ran into my ex-boyfriend...we dated in high school for a couple years but I haven't seen him at all since I started college in '97. He was very special to me, my first love if you will....and I have wondered over the years here and there if he's as happy as I am, if he has love in his life. Anyway, I dreamt we ran into each other and he looked me up and down, and then said, "Oh. You look..." And so I said, "Weathered?" And he said, "Yeah...I guess...different."
That was it, then I woke up. I promptly told Kevin, who assured me I don't look weathered...but he's biased of course :) Thank God Kevin loves me so much. He sees me through these rose colored glasses, and I don't know why except that he just loves me and I am just so thankful for that. If I did run into my ex, I would be so embarrassed about how I look. I rarely pay to get my hair done, I get like 2 pedicures a year, never a manicure, my clothes are usually the colors of dark and darker, and of course there's my weight.
Today I kept thinking about being "weathered." I thought, you know I have done a lot of things I'm proud of since he and I broke up... and I was not thinking about that, just what he would think if he looked at me. Or I guess what I'm assuming he would think. Because if I ran into him and he maybe had a receding hairline, or a few wrinkles (no way would he be fat, it's just not in his DNA) I wouldn't really see that. I'd see the same eyes of the young boy who was the first boy to tell me he loved me, who bought me a ring for my 16th birthday from the Best store (that's really what the store was called), who wrote me love letters and took me to my school dances, who listened to me cry my eyes out for hours when I failed my driving test. I'd hope to see happiness in his face, that he is doing well in life and has love.
Well, it was just a dream. I may be a bit weathered...I have stretch marks, an 8yr old minivan not to mention an 8 yr old kid, bills, responsibilities. I'm no high school kid anymore.
Thank God.
I'm going to go snuggle my husband now.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
can't help it
*Just a warning - this post is dumb. There is no point to it. I am procrastinating doing important things that will require thought and movement. I really don't even know why I wrote it. If you are like me and procrastinating, waste a minute and read it. If you are a productive, busy person...skip it.*
Why do we love the things we love? Associations with family, friends? Tied to memories? Just the way we're made?
I love the smell of gasoline...no idea why.
I love the smell of the bookstore. Coffee, books...freedom.
I love the smell of Mom boiling a chicken and baking pie. Comforts.
I love the smell of Kevin's neck, and my kids hair. Closeness, a privilege. They're mine.
I love the feel of a baby's hand on my face. Sweetness.
I love the feel of the top of Kevin's hand. Strength. Tenderness.
I love touching my kids ears. When they were born, it was the first thing I looked at, glad they both had their fathers ears. One of my cousin's had an ear thing, and I remember as a teen watching her touch her son's ears. It seemed so loving to me, and remember thinking that is how he will know his mommy loves him. So ears became more that just ears to me.
I love violin music. Relaxing.
I love being called Mama more than anything in the world...more than Mommy or Brynnie or sweetheart...I just think Mama is the most precious word you could hear. I don't hear that as often anymore.
I love feeling wanted. Needed, not as much...it can be quite a responsibility.
I love the sound of Taylor's laugh. There is nothing like it.
I hate the sound of Kevin snoring. There is nothing like it.
I hate clutter. Feeling closed in.
I hate feeling rushed.
I hate yelling, and am working on extinguishing this habit as a discipline technique. Easier said than done, to not repeat the sins of the father. My girls get the best of me, but have also gotten the worst.
I hate the sound of dogs barking. Annoying.
I love the way my mom says "Hi Brynnie" when she calls me. I know that right then nothing is more important to her than hearing about my day. She always tells me I do too much, and I feel like everyone else in the world but her thinks I should do more. No one loves me like my mom does.
I love watching our 2 black cats lick each other, and snuggle. They're brothers, they're not "into" it, they just really love each other. It makes me so happy we adopted both - where would one be without the other? Maela, our older cat, hates them and wishes we had left both at the pound.
I love hearing my girls play together and actually get along. Sisters.
I love hearing Kevin laugh so hard I know it's imminent that he will vomit. I don't like the vomiting part, but if I'm the one who made him laugh I feel so proud of myself.
I'll write something more important later. Maybe.
Why do we love the things we love? Associations with family, friends? Tied to memories? Just the way we're made?
I love the smell of gasoline...no idea why.
I love the smell of the bookstore. Coffee, books...freedom.
I love the smell of Mom boiling a chicken and baking pie. Comforts.
I love the smell of Kevin's neck, and my kids hair. Closeness, a privilege. They're mine.
I love the feel of a baby's hand on my face. Sweetness.
I love the feel of the top of Kevin's hand. Strength. Tenderness.
I love touching my kids ears. When they were born, it was the first thing I looked at, glad they both had their fathers ears. One of my cousin's had an ear thing, and I remember as a teen watching her touch her son's ears. It seemed so loving to me, and remember thinking that is how he will know his mommy loves him. So ears became more that just ears to me.
I love violin music. Relaxing.
I love being called Mama more than anything in the world...more than Mommy or Brynnie or sweetheart...I just think Mama is the most precious word you could hear. I don't hear that as often anymore.
I love feeling wanted. Needed, not as much...it can be quite a responsibility.
I love the sound of Taylor's laugh. There is nothing like it.
I hate the sound of Kevin snoring. There is nothing like it.
I hate clutter. Feeling closed in.
I hate feeling rushed.
I hate yelling, and am working on extinguishing this habit as a discipline technique. Easier said than done, to not repeat the sins of the father. My girls get the best of me, but have also gotten the worst.
I hate the sound of dogs barking. Annoying.
I love the way my mom says "Hi Brynnie" when she calls me. I know that right then nothing is more important to her than hearing about my day. She always tells me I do too much, and I feel like everyone else in the world but her thinks I should do more. No one loves me like my mom does.
I love watching our 2 black cats lick each other, and snuggle. They're brothers, they're not "into" it, they just really love each other. It makes me so happy we adopted both - where would one be without the other? Maela, our older cat, hates them and wishes we had left both at the pound.
I love hearing my girls play together and actually get along. Sisters.
I love hearing Kevin laugh so hard I know it's imminent that he will vomit. I don't like the vomiting part, but if I'm the one who made him laugh I feel so proud of myself.
I'll write something more important later. Maybe.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Am I where I want to be at 32?
Today is my 32nd birthday. Kevin made me Eggos, Bailey made me a card and wrapped it, Taylor said she wanted it to be her birthday, but then wrapped me up some pretty stones...and then took them back. It felt right.
I remember as a child there was a young woman in my neighborhood, I think she was in her early 20's, maybe I was 8 or 9. She had a boyfriend, and I remember feeling something - like a Whoa! feeling - when I saw them together, taking a walk. There was something about her that I remember feeling in awe of, and wanting to be just like her when I grew up...and really, I didn't even know her. But her confidence, her laugh, her joy (what I perceived at the time anyway) was something I wanted. And for someone to have their arm around me, and look at me like her boyfriend looked at her.
I didn't really have plans for my life when I was younger. I knew I wanted to get married and be a mother - I've known that since making mudpies and carrying around my Cabbage Patch baby. But when I went to college, I realized I had to have some kind of goal - so I majored in Psychology, reasoning that I would like the "people and listening" kind of field. A year of social work taught me I needed a Masters to really have any choices within that career line, and I started taking 2 courses in Counseling - and then found out I was pregnant with Bailey. I dropped out and haven't gone back. And now I have a dire case of the "I don't know what I want to do with my life."
I am so thankful God blessed me with a husband, and I love being a mother. Being a wife and mom will always be the most important roles I will have - that and being a servant of the Lord. I am asking Him to open my eyes to the work He has in store for me.
When I turned 30, I told myself that my 20's were about being a young wife, and a new mother - learning the ropes. I wanted my 30's to be about maturing, growing, refining - and honestly, losing a big chunk of weight. I don't think I've accomplished any of those things yet. I still have a temper and am too quick to yell, I still am not disciplined in taking the time with God I need to, I still am - minus maybe 10 pounds - the same weight I was when I delivered Taylor, almost 6 yrs ago. That's right folks, a full term baby. Big sigh. These things make me feel like a failure, make me feel like time is passing and I have nothing to show for it.
But that's not the truth. I have 2 girls who are happy and healthy...and with their 2 separate issues, I am even more grateful for that fact. I have a husband who still loves me, still provides for his family. I am close with my mother - just this past weekend she came over and made me peach pie, and said a prayer of thankfulness for me while we held hands at the Cracker Barrel. I have friends who I really enjoy...I may not have a best friend, which I really miss having in my life, but I know I am loved and a few friends even think I'm funny. That's a great feeling.
So at 32 I'm not exactly where I want to be, but I'm thankful for all the blessings in my life. And really - that feeling that young woman must have had, laughing down the street with her boyfriend - I have that feeling every day. Joy and love. Just what I wanted.
I remember as a child there was a young woman in my neighborhood, I think she was in her early 20's, maybe I was 8 or 9. She had a boyfriend, and I remember feeling something - like a Whoa! feeling - when I saw them together, taking a walk. There was something about her that I remember feeling in awe of, and wanting to be just like her when I grew up...and really, I didn't even know her. But her confidence, her laugh, her joy (what I perceived at the time anyway) was something I wanted. And for someone to have their arm around me, and look at me like her boyfriend looked at her.
I didn't really have plans for my life when I was younger. I knew I wanted to get married and be a mother - I've known that since making mudpies and carrying around my Cabbage Patch baby. But when I went to college, I realized I had to have some kind of goal - so I majored in Psychology, reasoning that I would like the "people and listening" kind of field. A year of social work taught me I needed a Masters to really have any choices within that career line, and I started taking 2 courses in Counseling - and then found out I was pregnant with Bailey. I dropped out and haven't gone back. And now I have a dire case of the "I don't know what I want to do with my life."
I am so thankful God blessed me with a husband, and I love being a mother. Being a wife and mom will always be the most important roles I will have - that and being a servant of the Lord. I am asking Him to open my eyes to the work He has in store for me.
When I turned 30, I told myself that my 20's were about being a young wife, and a new mother - learning the ropes. I wanted my 30's to be about maturing, growing, refining - and honestly, losing a big chunk of weight. I don't think I've accomplished any of those things yet. I still have a temper and am too quick to yell, I still am not disciplined in taking the time with God I need to, I still am - minus maybe 10 pounds - the same weight I was when I delivered Taylor, almost 6 yrs ago. That's right folks, a full term baby. Big sigh. These things make me feel like a failure, make me feel like time is passing and I have nothing to show for it.
But that's not the truth. I have 2 girls who are happy and healthy...and with their 2 separate issues, I am even more grateful for that fact. I have a husband who still loves me, still provides for his family. I am close with my mother - just this past weekend she came over and made me peach pie, and said a prayer of thankfulness for me while we held hands at the Cracker Barrel. I have friends who I really enjoy...I may not have a best friend, which I really miss having in my life, but I know I am loved and a few friends even think I'm funny. That's a great feeling.
So at 32 I'm not exactly where I want to be, but I'm thankful for all the blessings in my life. And really - that feeling that young woman must have had, laughing down the street with her boyfriend - I have that feeling every day. Joy and love. Just what I wanted.
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