What do you hear when other people are talking?

If you know a mom who has recently given birth: Offer an arm.

If you know a mom who has just moved to a new town: Offer a hand.

If you know a mom whose husband is out of town: Offer a shoulder.

And if you know a mom who is dealing with all three of the above situations: Knock on her door, walk in, keep your mouth shut, start cleaning, and listen.

Or ... just listen.

And did I mention keep your mouth shut? Unless, of course, asked a question.

Whatever you do, don't say things like: "Oh, you can do it, so many others have." Or, "You think that's hard, I remember when I ..." Or, "I bet you appreciate your husband more now that he's gone. He's so wonderful." Please, please don't say those things ... they're quite beside the immediate point that this mother might just feel like she's falling apart.

She'll likely talk about how the first few weeks/month of her child's life have slipped by too quickly and that she squeezes in as many moments as possible to sniff his head before that delicious milky smell is gone. When you hear those words do you feel the loss behind them? Don't try and top it.

She'll likely tell you that her child was up for hours last night and she doesn't understand why the child had to tuck his feet in under her for comfort. (OK, she understands, but was it really necessary?) Do you feel the frustration? Don't try and top it.

She'll likely tell you that while that child could sleep in, she still had to wake up early to feed the baby and the dogs and down a pot of coffee before said sleeping child awoke. Do you feel the strength? Don't try to top it.


And she'll probably ask, no beg, for any tips on how to pass the hours between 3:3o and 8:30; the hours that her eyes want to shut and her body wants to shut down. Do you hear that? That's someone asking for help. THAT is when you offer solutions.

So, when this mom calls or when you call her, just keep quiet. Keep quiet and listen because you're most likely the ONLY adult she's talked to all day, the only person who is in a position to hear what she has to say. Pay attention to the words, but more importantly the feelings behind them ... reflect the feelings.

Too many people think empathy is sameness ... it's not. When I say that I am run down and don't know what to do ... I am not looking for someone to tell me about how much MORE run down they are. Please, take your competition to someone else. I am not in the harried race, I am in the human race ... that's where I want my connection.

OK, just some thoughts on feeling run down and not knowing who to turn to ... I didn't even discuss how some people react as if one bad day = an opportunity to get on a soap box about taking care of oneself or finding new parenting skills. And I didn't even go into how some people act like they just don't need other people. That's a lie. We all need other people. Why else are we born into families? We come into the world needing others and if we live long enough we leave this world needing others. If we're lucky enough, we'll walk through this world needing others.

I am very aware of my need for others right now.

And I am asking for positive unconditional strokes. So if you have them, comment below. If you need to, Google the term so you know what I'm talking about. Read more!

Happy Birthday, Wesley

Read more!

Looking Up

Life is looking up.

No, I am looking up. Life doesn't actually do anything, those of us who are living can decide to look up or look down despite what life offers. So I take full credit for looking up.

We had a fun adventure moving, and though it required a lot of juggling of varying and often competing needs and desires, we managed well.

Sure, we forgot things, and were surprised by things along the way. If there's one thing I've learned recently it's that life is manageable. I haven't come across anything yet that doesn't have a solution. Also, most of the problems that used to bother me ... those related to how I felt about making a mistake or not being in control of something ... just don't bother me anymore.

Patrick has grown too, and so has our relationship. And Wesley? Well, as long as we offered structure and confidence in our abilities to manage the many turns we took and dead ends we found, he was happy. In fact, Wesley handled many disappointments very well. And through it all we all laughed a lot.

No, the move isn't complete. We're in a house, we've got Internet access, but we don't have our furniture. I don't have much of a routine in place either. I do have some better habits, though, and they include daily yoga and a walk. I've realized I don't need a routine to make better habits ... i just make them and the routine will become what I choose to do. Duh! So simple huh? And yet I was making everything difficult by thinking I needed a right time for everything. Well, the right time for yoga is when the baby is happy and Wesley is entertained. The right time for walking is at night after dinner when Patrick is home with the boys. Funny how simple things become when you don't have things ... that's another post.

Anyway, the ceiling is white and the sky is blue. Ask me how I know ...

I'm looking up. Read more!

We may not have a house ...

It's Wednesday and as I sit in my hotel room I'm about to cry for the first time since Friday night.

"I want my home!" Wesley sobbed Friday at Oma's house. "I just want my home!"

Notice he said "home" and not "house."

His words touched me as I lay in bed with my arms wrapped around his body. He fought me, but eventually sank into me and then sank into sleep. He looked peaceful despite the fact that everything he had just asked for -- his cars, his trains, his bed, his home -- was packed away.

Earlier that day I drove with my nearly three year old and three week old sons four hours away from a routine, a clean bathtub, and more than a few sets of ears, shoulders, and arms on which I could rely. My husband and our dogs followed us much later in the evening. The separation was our solution to meeting the competing needs to get Wesley out of a house filled with his packed toys and to stay until the movers finished loading a truck that hadn't arrived.

Wesley and I both were relieved to get on the road and start the adventure. I stopped every 45 minutes to nurse Boden. Wesley's cold sedated him a bit, making the trip more manageable than I had thought it would be. We arrived at my grandmother's home (after driving past Omi's house ... notice I didn't say "home") and Wesley perked right up.

Oma's home is not childproof and is filled with beautiful glass things ... which meant that I juggled the two boys for most of the afternoon and evening. I received some much-needed relief from my cousin Kimi (thank you).

So Friday night when Wesley fell asleep, Boden was in my cousin's arms in another room, and I had a moment to myself I thought about all the things I had left behind and let the tears flow. The tears turned to sobs.

"I was prepared for this move," I thought to myself. "I want this move." I sighed and wondered why change -- the constant sign of life -- can be so hard to accept.

Why not welcome change? After all, I don't want to be who I am today a year from now no more than I want to be today who I was last year.

*Sigh.*

I also desire roots. And roots grow deep when plants are left alone. So part of me is saying, "Leave me alone! I don't want to move! I don't want to start over! I want my home!"

Home. There's that word again.

I moved around a lot growing up and spent grades 10 to 12 in three different schools. During all of my moves I had two constant homes: Omi's and Oma's.

My grandmothers lived less than 1 mile from each other. Their homes have remained the same since I can remember. (Both still had their 70s shag carpet until Omi's recent death.) These two homes always felt like just that -- home.

I wondered, when Omi died, how I would be able to drive by her home again and not be able to stop by and sleep in its crisp white sheets or smell its unique Omi smell. The loss of one of my only constant places compounded the loss of one of my favorite people in the world.

Then, at her yard sale, when I saw all of the quirky things she liked and valued dismantled and out of the places they had been for at least 30 years, I realized that none of these things made her place home. I didn't even reach to save and take home some of the things I thought I would. Somehow, without her there to treasure them, they lost their value.

Some of her things are in my home (or at least in boxes in a storage unit somewhere in Texas). I have a rug my great grandmother made, my great grandmother's silver, her wedding band (melded to my great grandfather's band), Omi's china, her signature strand of pearls, and a few other things. Oh, and I have her signature plant.

If you know Omi, you know the plant.

"I clip them when the get leggy," she used to say. And she'd stick the clippings in water until they rooted and then replant the "babies". She often gave the plants away. I have quite a few in my home (well, in a u-haul trailer in the parking lot ... that reminds me, I need to water my plants and let in some sunshine).

I also have offspring from plants that belonged to my mom, mother in law, Oma, and a handful of good friends. I like to think of these plants as the branches and leaves of my own personal "family" tree -- rooted in my heart.

I don't know how to explain to young child, "Home is where the heart is." It's one of those nice things people say. When I hear it I wonder if people really get the sentiment behind it. I wonder now if I get the sentiment. My heart is right here. But where is my home?

I didn't know what to say to Wesley last Friday and I still don't know what to say to him when he asks for his home and his bed. I tell him that I want a home too, and that we are looking for one.

Now I wonder if I get that home is not the clean bathtub or the predictability of my everyday life? It's not the house I hope to find, nor is it the toys that fill the boxes Wesley longs to open.

What is home? Is it the couch? No. It's the feeling I get as I melt into the couch ...

Bo cried on average every hour of our trip. As soon as he would start to cry (and often right before when I was following my instincts) I would pull off the Interstate and into a McDonald's parking lot and walk around to his side of the car. I'd open the door and start talking to my hungry son. As soon as he heard my voice his face would start to relax. As soon as I picked him up his body would start to relax. As soon as I held him and nursed him he'd melt into me in a way that said, "I'm home."

If he's home. Aren't I?

Our couch may be in storage, but we sink into each other.

We may not have a house, but we've sure got a home. Read more!

Just a Swingin' and Dreamin'

I rarely post pictures without a dash of home-brewed wisdom, so let's see if I can come up with anything that relates to the following mega-dose of cuteness. I don't blame you if you can't tear your eyes away from the pictures long enough to read ... I keep scrolling down to see them again and again as I type.

I'm not sure why I keep looking ... I do know that to me, these images (by Aunt Casey) capture something special about childhood ... I'm still trying to put my finger on it.


Do you ever think if life gets any happier you might burst inside? I think that, or feel it, almost every night.

Almost every night Patrick and I go into Wesley's room and play with him for about 30 minutes, it's our way of winding down with him and ending the day -- no matter how hard it was -- with laughter, family togetherness, songs, prayers and whatever else flows from our hearts.



Throughout the evening last night Wesley spontaneously hugged my neck and placed his cheek next to mine. It had been a rough day. He had just spent a weekend away from us and came back ready to test his home and his boundaries to see if anything had changed. Nothing had: I was still firm and held age-appropriate expectations. He just needed to double check, and triple check, and throw tantrums, and throw things (at me), etc. until he knew for sure that he could still count on me, and that his world was still safe and supportive no matter what.

Later that night, toward the end of our time together, Wesley pretended he was a flying dinosaur and flapped his arms as high and fast as he could.

"I want to fly! I want to fly!" he said.

Patrick lifted him into the air and I laughed with joy at their delight. We gave Wesley affirmations, to the extent that we could, about his dream: he probably won't ever be able to flap his arms and fly, but there are other ways he can make his dreams come true.



Heck, for all we know, perhaps his dreams have already have come true, after all, as you see in the picture below, Wesley has two colorful wings and his feet are off the ground.

Who knows where he was going in his mind when this picture was taken, or where he'll take his life long after this memory fades... all I know is that I want a fraction of his belief ...




... that any dream is possible and that there is no reason in the world his dreams won't come true.

One day I want to be the one relishing in my safety and lack of fear as I jump on the bed, flap my arms, and exclaim, "I want to fly, I want to fly" ... and then one day ... look down to find my feet above the earth and my colorful wings outspread.

Even though he's the one testing me to make sure his boundaries are still safe and held in his best interest, I'm the one with a lot to learn -- from him -- about boundaries and possibilities.

I'm tired of confusing safety and fear. And I am ready to claim and name my dreams! Thank YOU, Wesley (and of course Patrick)! Read more!

Quick Reminder

I just read in another blog about a father who is happy he has learned how to wear a sling (congrats!), and it reminded me of our early days. This borrowed sling is actually on wrong, but you can't really tell ;) We eventually became "experts" and hiked all over the place slinging (and breastfeeding, well, I did, not Patrick).

It's fun to carry around a little pea in a pod!

I can't wait to do it again! So here's a little reminder of what is to come ...


Oh, and then another reminder: that pea quickly grows up, so do all you can do to cherish those first few days/weeks/months!!!! Then do all you can do to cherish the rest ;)

The surprising thing about parenthood, and this from a mom who LOVES the newborn stage, is that every stage becomes my new favorite!

Read more!

This is How I Get Things Done

Need I say more?

I am making phone calls to get all sorts of estimates on work and things we need to purchase for our move. How do I buy my time? Credit. I'd say it's a pretty low interest rate, considering I can have this mess cleaned up in about 15 minutes. Yes, there's more, but what's a mom to an active two-year-old supposed to do when things just need to get done? Read more!

Wanting -- What the World Needs

I noticed that Wesley is saying, "I need ... ." When really the word "want" would better fit considering he's asking to go outside or for one of his toys.

Brief thoughts related to wanting vs. needing:

People tend to substitute the word need for want when it isn't "OK" for them to want things or when, historically, they never got what they wanted for one reason or another.

Example 1
Child: "I want a new pair of shoes." Caretaker: "How dare you want a new pair of shoes! You have shoes. There are plenty of people who don't have shoes and you want a new pair?" This may sound like an exaggeration, but variations of this are said to children frequently. Child interpretation: How dare I want something I don't need. Only my needs will be met. I better not ask for something unless I need it.

Example 2
Child: "I want a Barbie Doll." Caretaker: "We don't have the money for that (again)." Child interpretation: Not getting what I want is painful. I feel less pain when I just don't want anything. So the child decides it is less painful (in this situation safer in others, etc.) to not be in touch with his/her wants.

Ah, a life without wants -- sounds wonderful doesn't it? After all, wouldn't it be great not to have any wants at all? This situation can come about a few ways, one of which is to be an heir to a fortune and another is to simply "not want". Either way -- life is fulfilled. Right?

Wrong.

I am not sure that children, and even adults, distinguish well between physical and spiritual satisfaction. For instance, many people think that this or that will fill them up ... inside. We've all known people who consume food and luxury items in an effort to feel better about themselves. Problem is, the physical thing doesn't match the spiritual desire.

So when we shut down our want of material things, sometimes we shut down spiritually driven desires -- internal callings.

Ever know someone who doesn't know what he or she wants to do in life? Of course you have! Heck, you've probably been in this position -- it may even be a normal part of career selection.

When children grow up thinking that only their needs will be taken care of, they shut themselves off from their wants -- their own internal selves. Ideally, choosing a career is about what you want to do, not what you have to do. Ideally, those wants are driven by a desire to activate the unique God-given virtue profile placed within you, a virtue profile that I believe, if activated and devoted to service, will lead to betterment of the world.

Once shut down, reactivation of this spontaneous, beautiful place within can be difficult.

So, back to Wesley ... what do I do now that I've noticed that his wants and needs are blending. I want to make sure he uses want where appropriate so i know that he knows 1. what he wants and that 2. he is important enough to get what he wants, when appropriate.

Two things: One, I separate my needs from my wants -- pursuing both as appropriate. And help Wesley separate his, giving him feedback as to why some are met and others are not.

Both Patrick and I have been working on this ourselves and even within a week I've noticed a change in Wesley's words. He is using the word want now -- yeah! And he is starting to use the word need appropriately too.

This is wonderful progress!

I place emphasis on this subject because I want my son to learn the difference between his needs and his wants. I want him to prioritize his pursuits in life and know that his longings -- when tuned in to his own spiritual desires and internal callings -- will lead him along God's plan.

So, what are your needs? What are your wants? Is it OK for you to want something? Is it OK for you to get it? These are all things decided by children as they watch the adults around them.

IF for no other reason than to liberate Wesley from unnecessary uncertainty, I plan on further sifting my wants from my needs.

Not only do I hope to tap in to a deeper connection with myself and with God, I hope to carry out my "heart's desires" with certainty that God has placed within me gems that will benefit mankind today. And this of course will benefit my children -- and the world -- tomorrow. Read more!

Today is a Double Latte Day

... and it's only 7 a.m.

I'll tell you why when I get back from Lowes. By the way, I printed off a coupon for $10 off a $25 purchase that I found at this blog site.

OK, so I'll be back to tell the tale of the late brother and how it led me to a rare $4.55 purchase at Starbucks.

***I'm back***

I was inspired to plant an herb garden today when I found and purchased 14 herbs for .50 each at Lowes. I even purchased 4 at regular price to round out the garden, which is around one existing blueberry bush. I plan to plant another bush and two rosemary bushes to complete the edible section of that bed. Behind the rosemary bushes I'll plant a climber of some sort, a hydrangea and some sort of fall bloomer to go with the mums over in a corner.

OK, enough about my Lowes spree, back to the story of the morning.

Last night my brother Glen called and wanted a ride to the airport. Sure, no problem, just get here at 5:15 (since you are also borrowing a suitcase and want to print out your ticket information) so we can leave around 5:45.

Patrick and I got up at 5 a.m. because Patrick also had to be at the airport this morning, though we could have slept in until at least 6/6:30.

5:45 rolls around: no Glen, no phone call.

Where is he? I wonder.

I call.

Oh, I'm 15 minutes away, he says ... OK, I say.

30 minutes later he shows up. He spends the next 10 minutes packing and then gets into the car and says, All I need is my I.D. card right?

Um, well, do you know which airline you are taking?

He goes inside to print up his ticket information ...

We arrive at the airport 45 minutes before his flight departs.

So, what did we talk about on the way there? Him.

I told him how angry I was that he didn't bother to call me and took for granted that it'd be no problem to wake up when we could have slept. And what about Wesley?

I made sure to tell him that I love him and that my criticism had nothing to do with who he is, but how he behaved, because I know he has the capacity to think for himself and to be responsible and respectful.

This is an important point anytime we give feedback to others or reprimand our children ... remember to focus on the what, not the who. I'm not sure about this, but it seems to me that guilt is felt when we do something wrong, and shame is felt when we wrap up the who with the do and feel that we -- in our core of cores -- are wrong because we did something wrong. Simply not true.

I didn't call him a jerk, lazy, or a dumby (which I have heard parents do all too often), but rather gave feedback on his actions and how they affected me and my family.

And here's another point ... "I'm just not responsible" or "I just don't follow through" (which he didn't say, by the way, he took everything I said to heart and didn't make excuses -- yeah, Glen, that's so hard sometimes) are not appropriate responses. Responsibility and follow through are not genetic traits, they are skills! If you don't have them, either deal with the consequences and accept your role in those consequences or develop the skill ... responsibility and follow through do come easier to some than others, but that doesn't make them a genetic trait, they are skills that can be learned by anybody.

***

OK, stepping off my soap box now.

So, you see, I went to SB to get a latte to have the energy to get through the day with a very active 2-year-old on only a few hours sleep. While in line Wesley opened his eyes long enough to spot the chocolate milk, point to it and say "that" and put his head back down on my shoulder and fall asleep.

And THAT's how I spent $4.55 at Starbucks.

At least I made up for it with my $10 gift card ... oh forget it .. I don't need excuses ... I wanted a latte, I bought a latte -- good night! Read more!

The Boys

Wesley
My Baby Boy
How I get Things Done
You Get One Guess
Homemade Sailboat
Blast from the Past
This is why ...
And this is why ...
Memory Lane
Scootin' Right Along
Working in the yard
Of Grass and Pedals
Wesley Finally Names Something
Rain, Rain
Anatomy of Flying

Baby Boy
Getting Ready for Baby Brother
Sleepless in Utero Read more!

The Family

We are a very statistically typical family holding on to our idealism and the dreams of traveling the world that started it all. It's very hard sometimes to plan to go overseas when all I really want to do is plant some roots!

Related Posts:
Saying Good-Bye
Importance of Imagination and Family Play Time
Our Toes Have Been Busy!
No Need for an Alarm Clock!

Craft Fun:
Homemade Boat
Name that Craft (Rainmaker)

Religion:

Read more!