If you have ever lived with a dog, you know that they have this uncanny way of soaking up sun rays. If you can't find your dog in the middle of winter, chances are they have found the only tiny ray of sun that has reached the entire house. Now that it is springtime in Ohio, my dog rarely leaves the spaces in my house engulfed with sun rays.
I am much like my dog when it comes to my girlfriends. I absorb any chance of seeing them, hearing their voice, or receiving a text. You see my life went from living with three other girls to living with a man and a baby boy in a matter of two years... I love my husband and adore being a stay-at-home mom, but what I dislike the most is the distance it puts between my life and my friends' lives. Even without meaning to, my life suddenly revolves someone that needs my attention 24/7. Now things got easier once he turned a year and I was no longer his only food source, but by then my girlfriends had moved and started their own careers/lives. So when I get the time, I eat up any chance I have to laugh, cry, eat, and enjoy life with my girlfriends. They bring excitement into my days that are full of changing diapers and making snacks. Their stories of boyfriends, new jobs, traveling, changing, keep me excited and I can't wait to hear more. There are splinters of moments when I feel jealous of their lives, but most of the time I just love to hear their stories and share our journeys together even if it is from afar.
I have been blessed with girlfriends that have lasted over the years, and have been through so much with them that moves, babies, jobs and boys can't get in the way of our friendship. I have been blessed with new "mom friends" who understand the rigors and struggles of taking care of children. I have learned a whole new meaning to "make new friends but keep the old" as I make my way through this stage in my life. Without those sun rays that come piercing into my life, I would be a cold, sad dog... thank goodness for the sun rays of girlfriends in my life! Thank you friends, I love you all!
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
The Dumper
When the other little boy I watch comes over in the morning, one of the first things the boys like to do together is dump everything onto the floor. They dump the blocks, the Rescue Heroes, the books, the Megablocks, the doctor set, the bin of balls; they dump and dump and dump until my entire living room floor is covered with toys.
Ever wonder who your child is going to grow up to be? Well duh... every parent thinks about that; some even obsess about it and live their lives trying to put every step in place so that their children become exactly who they want them to be.
Sadly, I often get caught up in the terrors of "what will my son be like when he is a teen." Will be get dumped or will he be the dumper? ...what if he's into drugs? ...what if he has pimples all over his face and can't get a girlfriend... what if, what if, what if. This is when my husband laughs at me and says "he hasn't even started t-ball yet, one thing at a time." I know he's right but it is so hard for a mother to let go of her worries about her children's future. They are her life and when she no longer has control over the life they will lead, it leaves a very helpless feeling in her soul.
There is this funny thing called self control. It's one of those fruit of the spirit that we are learned when we mastered the song "love, patience, kindness, goodness..." in Sunday school. I used to think self control was about controlling myself from doing bad things, such as stealing or cheating on homework. Since becoming a mother, self control has now added on new definitions : to give up the controls and let my son to build his own self: and to control the worrying. Worrying wastes precious thoughts, time and energy on things I will never be able to control. Self control means to let my son be a toy dumper now and allow him to become whatever kind of dumper or dumpee he will be as a teen.
Ever wonder who your child is going to grow up to be? Well duh... every parent thinks about that; some even obsess about it and live their lives trying to put every step in place so that their children become exactly who they want them to be.
Sadly, I often get caught up in the terrors of "what will my son be like when he is a teen." Will be get dumped or will he be the dumper? ...what if he's into drugs? ...what if he has pimples all over his face and can't get a girlfriend... what if, what if, what if. This is when my husband laughs at me and says "he hasn't even started t-ball yet, one thing at a time." I know he's right but it is so hard for a mother to let go of her worries about her children's future. They are her life and when she no longer has control over the life they will lead, it leaves a very helpless feeling in her soul.
There is this funny thing called self control. It's one of those fruit of the spirit that we are learned when we mastered the song "love, patience, kindness, goodness..." in Sunday school. I used to think self control was about controlling myself from doing bad things, such as stealing or cheating on homework. Since becoming a mother, self control has now added on new definitions : to give up the controls and let my son to build his own self: and to control the worrying. Worrying wastes precious thoughts, time and energy on things I will never be able to control. Self control means to let my son be a toy dumper now and allow him to become whatever kind of dumper or dumpee he will be as a teen.
Monday, March 29, 2010
A+ mothering
There is no evaluation process for mothers; no A, B, F's. No grade point average, no review at the end of the term, no commission on timeouts, no salary for the amount of days put in, and no bonuses at the end of week. And yet we still try to find ways to evaluate our performances as mothers. We check our answers against other mothers, we use everything from news reports to "specialists" to tell us how we are doing. We even badger our Pediatricians for answers to see if we add up.
Why?
Is it the way we are wired? Have mothers been doing this for decades? I became a mother right out of college. I graduated with honors and felt that I must prepare for motherhood with much of the same vigor of which I approached my studies... but nothing, not endless hours reading mothering magazines, not going to every parenting class, nothing can prepare you for motherhood. It is a way of life, a new approach to life. The day my son was born I knew I had to throw away the magazines, give up my studies and focus on each moment with him. Only your children can teach you how to be a mother... they won't grade your tests, they will test your knowledge of who they are and what they need. They will test who you are as a person. At the end of each day, I don't get a grade, I don't get a pat on the back, but I do get to watch my son breathing in and out, in and out and that is all the bonuses I need. (most days that is:)
Why?
Is it the way we are wired? Have mothers been doing this for decades? I became a mother right out of college. I graduated with honors and felt that I must prepare for motherhood with much of the same vigor of which I approached my studies... but nothing, not endless hours reading mothering magazines, not going to every parenting class, nothing can prepare you for motherhood. It is a way of life, a new approach to life. The day my son was born I knew I had to throw away the magazines, give up my studies and focus on each moment with him. Only your children can teach you how to be a mother... they won't grade your tests, they will test your knowledge of who they are and what they need. They will test who you are as a person. At the end of each day, I don't get a grade, I don't get a pat on the back, but I do get to watch my son breathing in and out, in and out and that is all the bonuses I need. (most days that is:)
Muddy Paws
Dear God,
It's me again... After cleaning dirty bums all day, the last thing I want to do is clean dirty paws. So if it wouldn't be too much to ask, could you ask the sun to come out and dry up all the mud? My dog and I would like to spend our only free time (during naptime) in a more enjoyable way. Thank you much,
me
I never understood what drove some mom's to dress up to bring their kids to a playdate or to the grocery store... well now I do. As a stay-at-home working mom, I now realize the self worth that comes with a simple change of clothes. I watch three other children other than my own 20 month old son and we have a 44 lb. mutt. In the summer and the winter, my clothes are covered in throw-up, spit up, every food imaginable, glue, and best of all snot. In the spring and fall, my clothes are covered in mud, mud, more mud and some snot. I have now descovered that putting on a fresh outfit and fresh make-up make mom's feel like they are part of the outside world. They don't want to be judged by the mud on their pants and spit up on thier shirts. Instead they want to be taken seriously and talked to like a human being, capable of looking like part of the outside world. For my part, I do my best to take the mud and the spit up to the grocery store and Target, I kinda like the looks, but there are days when I slide on a fresh new look and I feel like I can leave the mud behind and join the world of the clean and put together:)
It's me again... After cleaning dirty bums all day, the last thing I want to do is clean dirty paws. So if it wouldn't be too much to ask, could you ask the sun to come out and dry up all the mud? My dog and I would like to spend our only free time (during naptime) in a more enjoyable way. Thank you much,
me
I never understood what drove some mom's to dress up to bring their kids to a playdate or to the grocery store... well now I do. As a stay-at-home working mom, I now realize the self worth that comes with a simple change of clothes. I watch three other children other than my own 20 month old son and we have a 44 lb. mutt. In the summer and the winter, my clothes are covered in throw-up, spit up, every food imaginable, glue, and best of all snot. In the spring and fall, my clothes are covered in mud, mud, more mud and some snot. I have now descovered that putting on a fresh outfit and fresh make-up make mom's feel like they are part of the outside world. They don't want to be judged by the mud on their pants and spit up on thier shirts. Instead they want to be taken seriously and talked to like a human being, capable of looking like part of the outside world. For my part, I do my best to take the mud and the spit up to the grocery store and Target, I kinda like the looks, but there are days when I slide on a fresh new look and I feel like I can leave the mud behind and join the world of the clean and put together:)
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