Libra Love

The clock keeps ticking. . .one day bleeds into the other. So many moments are filled with celebrations; while others silently break your heart. No real rhyme or reason for the painful days, just an acute awareness that nothing stays the same.  This year keeps rushing forward May, September, October. . .next thing you know the holidays will be upon us and we will be welcoming in 2019. And I actually think, I'll breathe a sigh of relief when the clock strikes midnight and we move on. . .into the new year filled with new opportunities and looking forward to the many lasts that will occur in the spring.

Someone will experience his last semester as a high school student; his last track season; his senior project; trainsitioning with an Independent Living Coordinator, college plans, and graduation. Another will experience his last quarter as an eighth grader. Eager to kiss those junior high walls good-bye; eager to grow taller; eager for a chance to be more and more independent. Sometimes it is him who is not ready. Sometimes it must be me. Time keeps trudging forward. The oldest girl, has high school down now, she knows what to expect, she gets ahead and works hard in her classes without the tears and pressure her Freshman year seemed to force upon her. She sees a driver's license in her future, and I don't know how I feel about that yet. Relieved to have some help with the shuttling around that has consumed us these last four years, or sad that I won't be needed as much. I don't know yet. But our baby love, she sees unicorns and rainbows and breathes out happiness and in joy. Her personality so big and full and loving everything about school and friends.

My new job gives me glimpses into her world. How special it is to have the same recess and her and her friends run up to me with hugs.  Other times, it might just be glimpses through the window as it seems my mom-dar is deep. She is near, I look up and am greeted with a passing glimpse on her way to lunch or PE. Sigh. There has been so much goodness already this school year. So much goodness that has helped ease the hard parts. I went from one job to three, and am juggling more appointments into the calendar spaces but really with that comes some peace. I am a working mama who has control over her schedule, who is only saying yes to the things she loves and who is growing her craft in the process.  It has been good. Very, very good.

Seven

The most beautiful rose given to me by my teenage son.

It has been seven years since I created this space to document the happenings of our life.  It's been over seven months since I have religiously blogged.  So much happens day to day that I've simply forgotten to come back to the place that was to serve as my children's scrapbook. Our published years are so fun to flip through, recounting the many memories we've made. The kids giggle over pictures of themselves and seem fascinated by the itty bitties they once were. There are three teenagers in the house now. Three. Let that sink in for a second. Then of course, the baby. . .who is by no means a baby any more. Our eight-year-old colors our world pretty with pom poms, unicorns, and slime. I really hate the last one. It absolutely blows me away that this is the life I am priviliged to live day in and day out. There are bad days, sad days, fun days, and days I can't even stay awake later than the teenagers, but they are beautiful days nonetheless. Beautiful simply because they are mine.

It boggles my mind that my presence is simply enough to validate my life. I came late to the stay at home mom role. When Lene mentions me working during her elementary years it pains me just a little bit. At that point I had cut my time in half, but I was still missed at some class parties and volunteering in the classroom. The thing is, I totally get it. I remember feeling that same way when it seemed everyone else's mom helped in the classroom BUT mine. I always wanted what I coudn't have and although my grandparents were great substitutes, it never was the same. Some things will never change, I guess.

For four years I've had the privilige of being home with my kids. The older they've gotten, the harder it seems to get. There are three school drop offs, all at different times. The three pick ups get complicated by the sports each of the three plays depending on the season. After school games and homework followed by a family meal across a dinner table makes for a busy, full life. But still, sometimes, my mind goes to that place of not being enough, not contributing enough, not doing enough with the education I received. Sometimes I look at my two Master's Degrees and wonder if they were a waste. Will I ever use them? Will I even be current when the time comes?  I simply have no idea.

I've been on both sides of the spectrum, and to be frank, each offered valuable gifts that I treasure. As a working mother, I impacted countless lives, I socialized with colleagues, I was in constant motion to continue to learn and grow. On the other hand, as a Mom who is home, I impact the lives in which I was called to be a mother, I socialize with other moms at pick up and at church, and I run a very part time business from home where I educate a handful of kids and work with their parents to help them flourish.   Both sides are debateable as to which is more important. Dare I say, both sides are debateable as to which is most valuable. It's time to let the debate die, people.

If I am equally fulfilled being home with my kids as I am working full time as an educator, then so be it. It's my life to live my truth, and it's okay if we see things differently. We were not made to agree on everything; we were made to be kind. Next time you're having a hot debate regarding working moms and stay at home moms, ask yourself if what you are going to say really needs to be said. If it has been said before, save it. Everyone wants their voices heard, but we all have our own stories to tell. Tell yours proudly and with love. Stay home if you want. Work if you want. Or don't. Your story. You write it.
 

From my Journal

Dear Lord,

Holy Week. So much suffering done by you, for me. . .
Yet I reflect on the absolute joy I have been filled with already these two days.  That contradiction boggles my mind.

I am at peace with my decision for next year.  I've been honest with the big whigs who run things.  And I thank you.  Thank you for being enough.  Thank you for making me enough.  Thank you for the gift of knowing home is where I belong.  My sphere of influence here is great and my kids will know how you always work in their lives and how you are all they need.

So much of my adult life has been spent playing it safe.  Not taking risks, not rocking the boat, doing things others expect me to do and doing them well, caring too much what others think. . .and not relying on you for every little thing.

The past six years have prepared me for this moment.  Leaning into you did not come naturally to me; I learned to.  Over the course of these years, you opened my eyes to the beauty that was right in front of me. Thank you.  I could have missed all this:

• The way she moves her head and sings aloud from the back seat as we run errands.
• A weekly lunch date with my oldest little.  Hand in mine as we cross the street.
• The way he has to eat before getting dressed in the morning.  And how he warms himself by the fireplace.
• Noticing his tastes have changed from pbj sandwiches to turkey this month.
• Park dates after preschool.
• Friends coming over to do homework or a full car load of girls to honor choir.
• Picnics of pretend food on the library floor.
• Barbies and Little Pets and make believe galore.

I never thought this was the life for me.  Good thing you knew it all along.  Thank you doesn't seem enough.

Amen

Mother's Day Weekend

Sometimes less really is more.  I love the weekends that the calendar box sits empty.  Empty equals opportunity.  It just does.  That is what this weekend felt like which really was a Mother's Day gift in deed!  I wanted to take mom to a local wine shop for a Mother's Day Event.  I had no idea we would be the only ones in there for the entire three hours.  It was so nice and relaxing!  At one point Alan joined us and then dad, followed by Steve and Karvel who happened to be walking to the place next door.  We couldn't have planned it any better. . .well, maybe if we had Ernie could have been there too, but he was a good sport telling me to take my time and enjoy it.  I definitely took him up on that one!

Sunday began with church and an impromptu breakfast my littlest brother picked up.  Again, totally last minute but absolutely perfect!  Mom and I caught up on season three Downton and rested while the guys hung shutters or something of the sort.  Dinner meant mom's house where Ernie barbecued for us.  It was probably one of our simpler meals there since mom is the queen of party planning, yet she wanted a break. . .but it was a beautiful reminder that yes, sometimes less is more.  Absolutely.

 Life is swirling with end of the year activity in these parts.  Lene's production is one week away, Open Houses, friends facing marriage issues, and friends facing cancer.  Hard stuff, but brutiful stuff nonetheless.  I'm growing and stretching and reaching as I look for ways to be His hands and feet.  To walk this road with the hurting and sick when my life is seemingly "good" is hard sometimes.  But then I remember the dark days that came before and I thank God for the light.  I thank Him for the life of my mom who is still here to celebrate Mother's Day with me eight years later. I still need her.  I'm not done learning.  A Mother's Day gift in deed.

And then there is all the other "stuff" we've been up to in the almost two weeks since I last logged on.  I abhor that word--I never would let my eighth graders use it in their writing and here I am using it--for lack of a better word.  Eek!  I've been horrible about pulling out my "big girl camera" lately--the iphone has become my constant companion to capture life and all the joy that comes from it.  I am pondering retirement, I think there are only seventeen working days left for my dad. Years ago, I would have been interviewing for his spot and walking into the counselor realm of education.  Now I wonder if I will ever cross that bridge because I've tasted life on the other side--long, tiring days with my kids. . .but filled with unexpected moments of pure, unadulterated joy.  Being a mom completes me.  But what of my dad's last working days?   What will that opportunity afford him?  Should I wait for that moment to do some of the things I'd love to do. . .because what if that moment never comes.  I'm about as semi-retired as it gets.  If I had to walk away to be able to mother my kids I would.  My planet has tilted on its axis as I've let go and let God.  He has literally opened doors and provided this opportunity where I was able to see what motherhood means for me.

Key words, "for me."  My mothering experience may not look like my neighbor's or friends or family members.  Their vision for their family may be very different than mine.  I am perfectly content "just being a mom," because I know that NO OTHER JOB EXISTS FOR ME.

Motherhood.  Mother's day. Being a mom.  My ultimate and best versions of myself are because God gifted me these children.  Every day is an adventure.  Every day is filled with a struggle or two or ten.  But every day is extraordinary!  God bless mamas everywhere!

October 3, 2012

Today I want to remember this eager face who wakes and asks if she's going to school to see her friends.  Wednesdays have become our Parent Participation Pre-school days, and we are exactly one month in.  She loves going.  She loves choosing her own shoes.  Today's selection?  Her Disney princess light up boots--without socks.

Today, I must document the fact that there was not one minute I glanced at the clock or door eager to leave because of my angel girl's bad behavior.  Bad behavior, mostly involves, not wanting to stop "free play" to do carpet time.  This loathing of carpet time has for the last three weeks meant a grudging attitude, a desire to be picked up and held instead of participating, or hiding her face on the rug as an act of defiance. . .you can not make me do this.  Those moments have made me mostly embarrassed.  I know all moms struggle, but when it's me with my child--in public--it just feels...wrong.  I want so badly to do it right. . .and I fail again, and again, and again.

Today was filled with glimpses of pure light in what has felt like some dark days.  September was the first time, in Janessa's two year old life that I was left alone, completely alone with her as the big kids are off at school.  I have said it before, and I will say it again...staying home to raise my children is a lot more difficult than I ever imagined.  I have a newfound respect for those that have always done it, for those who can't do it, for those that want to do it.  There is nothing easy about being home with them, just as there is nothing easy about working and being away from them.  Either way, motherhood is just hard.  Plain and simple.

But today, she picked out her boots, she participated in rug time AND I deliberately didn't put her down for a nap, and she was asleep easily by 7:40.  All three beautiful gifts to this tired mama.

Sidenote:  I just read my post from yesterday.  God's goodness never ceases to amaze me. 

May 22, 2012

The days around here have been long without my husband.  As his work load has increased, I am thankful and exhausted all in the same breath.  There was a time and may be again in the future, where the work slows down and a lay off is in store.  What I used to get so stressed about, has been a true blessing each time it has occurred. . .so I keep that in the back of my mind as I struggle with the daily demands of motherhood.  And I let myself bathe in the blessings of an abundance of work, long hours that mean bigger paychecks that will pad the bank account for the months to come.  My decreased contract might not hurt the pocketbook as much as it might have.

These long days remind me the reason I am choosing to stay home more next year.  It is impossible to do both jobs well: teaching and mothering.  It is impossible for me to function at the same caliber of excellence in my classroom, when I'm swimming around in my mind with thoughts of whether Lene knows her lines, if Bubba's project will get finished in time--and Dear God, please let Janessa take a nap AND sleep through the night! When I am home, I am thinking about the tasks my students must accomplish for the next day.  I am trying to choose whether my students can afford me being out of the classroom "just" so I can attend a craft workshop in my daughter's class for Father's day gifts. . .and I hate this struggle between two forces that never lets up.  Never.

For those who tell me it is possible to have it all, be it all, and do it all with careful planning and fierce determination. . .It is not for me.  Not anymore.  I could argue: but is it worth it?  Is it worth me not feeling that I'm great in any area--neither mothering, nor teaching?  The end of the year with eighth grade activities, in conjunction with my own children's end of year activities, topped with a husband's hectic schedule, compounded by a daughter asking to be a part of the competitive dance team again (I will save that for another post), is drowning me.

Rest is on the horizon.  But, oh how I need it today! Gulping in His peace and comfort because I know only He can sustain me when my world feels hectic and out of control.

Looking forward to tomorrow where a personal necessity day is mandatory since my husband is taking the day off so he doesn't miss Open House.  I will rest up then. I will rest with him and dream about the joys of summer which will be here in three very short weeks.  Thank God!