We were already planning on going for a bike ride after mass.
The big kids wanted to have a Nerf gun war in the park and Claire was hell bent on riding her bike for miles.
As we walked into the door and started to change our church clothes and grab a quick sandwich, the sky turned dark, the thunder started to rumble and it was only a matter of time before rain and probably lots of it, was on its way.
I began to back track..."well, maybe we can make tea and read," to which, "BOOORRRIIINNGG," was their collective response.
"Come on, mom, it's not like it's acid rain. It won't kill you. Who cares if we all get soaked and muddy and struck by lightning. It will be an adventure."
When did I become such an old fogy? I mean really...the whole point of childhood is to splash in as many puddles as you can, to get as dirty as humanly possible and to soak up as much of the outdoors as you possibly can before you're forced to come inside when the street lights come on.
Okay, I relented. Let's do this.
Moments after we left, it down poured. And like a dip shit, I was wearing a white shirt and mascara, so I looked like a heroin addict, but no one cared. That weren't looking at me. They were being amateur snipers with their Nerf guns.
And then, going down a gravel patch by the park, Kate slid, fell off of her scooter and scraped the shit out of her knee, arm and hands. And I thought...see, it's too slick. What were we thinking?
Assuming that we'd head home, I turned the corner to see Kate talking.
"What's up, Love?"
"Nothing. I'm just talking to myself. It's the best way for me to communicate what I need. So, I'm saying, 'We should really go home now. My knee is bleeding.' But the other part of me, the fun part, is saying...carry on, carry on. Do you ever do that, mama? Talk to yourself and decide what's best?"
"I do it all day long, Sweetheart."
And then we both looked up to the monsoon sky, stuck our tongues out and felt the rain. We laughed. I kissed her arm, her elbow, her knee and then said, "well, what are you waiting for? Carry on, carry on."
So glad that for a few hours, I won the wet t-shirt mom concert at the school playground deciding that riding in the rain was the best decision for just a few hours on a Sunday afternoon.
Sunday, August 31, 2014
Saturday, August 30, 2014
8 Miles of Freedom
God damn it...some days are just your day.
Like...really...your day.
In anticipation of a busy morning, I woke up at 4:30am to get out the door and run 8 miles. I wanted to get the majority of it done before the sun was in full swing and the world was awake.
I revised my play list and promised myself that through the music and my breath, I would push myself and work hard.
And, I did.
This was first up on my list...
And then, as I rounded the bend and scared myself by seeing my own shadow...I know, cliche' as shit...but has that happened to you at 5 in the morning in the dark at a public park? You'd scream too which is why this song was perfect next...
And just as I was getting my stride and climbing hill after hill, I turned onto my path, crossed over the bridge and the sun started to peek and I felt the stress, the anxiety, the anticipation of a busy last week, and all of my worry dissipate and it was well...beautiful...
And then, the bitch hill came...the mother of all mother fuckers and instantly, I thought, bring it...
And she came on...
And then, no lie...I beamed smiles at everyone I saw along the path and thought...it's going to be a good day. No, it's going to be a glorious day.
This is what it feels like to be free...free of all that weighs us down.
Here's to 8-miles of freedom.
Like...really...your day.
In anticipation of a busy morning, I woke up at 4:30am to get out the door and run 8 miles. I wanted to get the majority of it done before the sun was in full swing and the world was awake.
I revised my play list and promised myself that through the music and my breath, I would push myself and work hard.
And, I did.
This was first up on my list...
And then, as I rounded the bend and scared myself by seeing my own shadow...I know, cliche' as shit...but has that happened to you at 5 in the morning in the dark at a public park? You'd scream too which is why this song was perfect next...
And just as I was getting my stride and climbing hill after hill, I turned onto my path, crossed over the bridge and the sun started to peek and I felt the stress, the anxiety, the anticipation of a busy last week, and all of my worry dissipate and it was well...beautiful...
And then, the bitch hill came...the mother of all mother fuckers and instantly, I thought, bring it...
And she came on...
And then, no lie...I beamed smiles at everyone I saw along the path and thought...it's going to be a good day. No, it's going to be a glorious day.
This is what it feels like to be free...free of all that weighs us down.
Here's to 8-miles of freedom.
Friday, August 29, 2014
Keep Me In Your Heart
The heart is such a big place.
Really, it is.
Stop and think about it.
The older you get, the more experiences you accumulate, the more people you know, the more history you amass...you begin to recognize that the heart has room for much more than you give it credit for.
I remember when I discovered that I was pregnant with my second child, I thought, "My God...will I love this child as much as I love my first?" And then again, when I became pregnant with my third.
I've had similar kinds of feelings about jobs and career changes. Evolutions in friendships. Differing seasons in my marriage. Times and places with organizations I've belonged to and positions I've been responsible for.
I've been told and for good reason that I'm an all in or all out sort of girl. And this is probably true. I often immerse myself completely in whatever season and with whichever people are closest to me at the time...but it doesn't mean that the experiences that were are gone or that the things to come don't have a chance.
It simply means that there is a vast amount of emotional space for all and for whom that we love in this life we've been given.
When my older two went off to Kindergarten, we read the book, "The Kissing Hand" about a young raccoon who goes off to school and leaves his family behind. His mother kisses the inside of his paw and says, "I will always be with you and when you are afraid or unsure, you can look down at your hand and feel me inside of you."
I have always loved that tale. We are all connected. We are all present in each other's lives purposefully. And there is room for so much love in our hearts. It's not a limited entity. It's more vast than we can imagine. So, fear not...you can keep filling and it will only grow to accommodate and make you more compassionate, more engaging, a better friend, a sweeter partner, a more loving parent. Let us not be afraid to keep each other in our hearts.
Really, it is.
Stop and think about it.
The older you get, the more experiences you accumulate, the more people you know, the more history you amass...you begin to recognize that the heart has room for much more than you give it credit for.
I remember when I discovered that I was pregnant with my second child, I thought, "My God...will I love this child as much as I love my first?" And then again, when I became pregnant with my third.
I've had similar kinds of feelings about jobs and career changes. Evolutions in friendships. Differing seasons in my marriage. Times and places with organizations I've belonged to and positions I've been responsible for.
I've been told and for good reason that I'm an all in or all out sort of girl. And this is probably true. I often immerse myself completely in whatever season and with whichever people are closest to me at the time...but it doesn't mean that the experiences that were are gone or that the things to come don't have a chance.
It simply means that there is a vast amount of emotional space for all and for whom that we love in this life we've been given.
When my older two went off to Kindergarten, we read the book, "The Kissing Hand" about a young raccoon who goes off to school and leaves his family behind. His mother kisses the inside of his paw and says, "I will always be with you and when you are afraid or unsure, you can look down at your hand and feel me inside of you."
I have always loved that tale. We are all connected. We are all present in each other's lives purposefully. And there is room for so much love in our hearts. It's not a limited entity. It's more vast than we can imagine. So, fear not...you can keep filling and it will only grow to accommodate and make you more compassionate, more engaging, a better friend, a sweeter partner, a more loving parent. Let us not be afraid to keep each other in our hearts.
Thursday, August 28, 2014
Stand in the Sun
Every night we go around the dinner table and ask the question,
"What was your rose...your stem...and your thorn today?"
It's an end cap ritual that we adopted from my best friend's family that helps all of us to process our daily experiences...the good parts, the hard parts and the in-betweens.
Your "rose" symbolizes the best thing that happened...your "thorn" is the worst and the "stem" is something memorable, but it doesn't have to be fabulous...just something worth mentioning.
Last night, Kate (7) was relaying her thorn experience about a little boy who had poor behavior in the lunch room and later on the playground. "He's always making funny noises and won't leave us alone. I just want to kick him," she said.
"But you don't, "I said, "You need to take the high road. Tell him that if he wants to play with you that he needs to be kind and to keep his hands to himself. You need to stand in the sun."
This prompted a 10-minute dialogue about what in the hell it means to take the high road and why would you want to stand in the sun...when, well, that's too sunny and you're not allowed to wear sun glasses at school.
I explained that these are figures of speech, metaphors, visual tools to explain what it means to do the right thing.
And then I did it, I pulled out (almost word for word) my mother's high school speech. "Life is simply a series of choices. At any given time, you can go left or right. You always have free will. The challenge is to sit with your options and make the decision to do in your heart what you feel is right and nine times out of 10, taking the high road is best."
To which, my 2nd-grade daughter said, "I don't have time for that. Recess is really short and I just want to build fairy houses with my friends. I don't want to tell him what he needs to do. I just want to kick him."
Good point. Back to our talk on Ethics.
"But if you kick him, what will he take from that? That physical harm is acceptable and that you're not willing to do the work and use your words to describe what you need."
"What I need....is to be left alone and not in the sun," says an emphatic Kate.
"Okay, fine," I say, "But just remember that you can catch more flies with honey than with..."
"I don't even know what you're saying..."
Right. Okay, stand in the dark...take the low road...hit below the belt...what do I know? I just have the graduate degree in Conflict Resolution...but then again, I'm not trying to make nice with second grade boys on the playground.
"What was your rose...your stem...and your thorn today?"
It's an end cap ritual that we adopted from my best friend's family that helps all of us to process our daily experiences...the good parts, the hard parts and the in-betweens.
Your "rose" symbolizes the best thing that happened...your "thorn" is the worst and the "stem" is something memorable, but it doesn't have to be fabulous...just something worth mentioning.
Last night, Kate (7) was relaying her thorn experience about a little boy who had poor behavior in the lunch room and later on the playground. "He's always making funny noises and won't leave us alone. I just want to kick him," she said.
"But you don't, "I said, "You need to take the high road. Tell him that if he wants to play with you that he needs to be kind and to keep his hands to himself. You need to stand in the sun."
This prompted a 10-minute dialogue about what in the hell it means to take the high road and why would you want to stand in the sun...when, well, that's too sunny and you're not allowed to wear sun glasses at school.
I explained that these are figures of speech, metaphors, visual tools to explain what it means to do the right thing.
And then I did it, I pulled out (almost word for word) my mother's high school speech. "Life is simply a series of choices. At any given time, you can go left or right. You always have free will. The challenge is to sit with your options and make the decision to do in your heart what you feel is right and nine times out of 10, taking the high road is best."
To which, my 2nd-grade daughter said, "I don't have time for that. Recess is really short and I just want to build fairy houses with my friends. I don't want to tell him what he needs to do. I just want to kick him."
Good point. Back to our talk on Ethics.
"But if you kick him, what will he take from that? That physical harm is acceptable and that you're not willing to do the work and use your words to describe what you need."
"What I need....is to be left alone and not in the sun," says an emphatic Kate.
"Okay, fine," I say, "But just remember that you can catch more flies with honey than with..."
"I don't even know what you're saying..."
Right. Okay, stand in the dark...take the low road...hit below the belt...what do I know? I just have the graduate degree in Conflict Resolution...but then again, I'm not trying to make nice with second grade boys on the playground.
Wednesday, August 27, 2014
For the Love of Sam
I've sort of been in love with you, your whole life.
That's to be expected, I suppose.
You are my first born child...the little one that I cuddled, coddled, learned, and trial and errored nearly everything I know about parenting upon.
And, I know that every mother says this, but truly, you are an amazing child.
At nearly 10-years old, you are almost as tall as I am (and I count myself as one of the taller mamas), you have the most beautiful honey colored, crazy thick hair, bright blue eyes, super cool specs and a boundless passion and energy that just won't quit.
You are insanely bright. And while I also count myself as one of the more curious people walking the planet, you are ridiculously intelligent. At any given time, you can be found with your nose in a book digesting novels on knights, dragons, sharks, sorcerers, heroes, and dinosaurs. You're knocking it out of the park academically and you bring so much love to my heart knowing how seriously that you take it all.
But the real joy is watching you with your friends, your sisters, your grandparents and perfect strangers. You are a kind soul. You are generous. And even though you are often quiet and more introspective, you are aware and conscientious of those who are in need. And you always come through to help.
I have to be honest. I'm a little sad watching you grow up. It won't be long before being at home won't be so cool and your friends' opinions and time will be more important than your dad's and mine. And that's okay, that's how it's supposed to be.
So, if from time to time, I grab ahold of you for a hug, just indulge me. I promise not to embarrass you or to hug too long.
It's just that I love you. I'm so insanely proud of you. And well, you're just growing up too fast.
For the love of you, Sam...
Tuesday, August 26, 2014
Glittery, Feathery Mess
A dear friend called yesterday and I felt badly for her...mostly, because I know what it's like.
She just had one question, "Do I need better time management?"
She's a wife, a mother, a small business owner and a wonderful human being to lots and lots of people in her life.
And I wanted to scream, "Absolutely, not. You're organized, self-sufficient, beyond capable, kind, and generous both with your time and resources to so many." Instead, I just listened. I know what it feels like to be barely hanging on.
Most of the night it rained and by 4:30am when the alarm went off, I thought, no...not today...even though, I knew that I was shooting myself in the foot. I'm usually more exhausted when I don't do something physical first thing.
But I wanted to sleep. I wanted to feel sorry for all of the places where I come up short. And I just didn't want to have to "do" another thing. And so, I didn't. I turned the coffee pot on and drank a big, hot cup of java in the dark and it was delightful.
After the big kids got out the door, I started to think about my friends and how it makes sense that there's this whole world of life coaches, therapists, yoga, poetry circles, Facebookland, retreat centers, positive affirmations and mantras...we're trying to do everything, all the time, really well.
How did that happen?
Have we always been that way?
Why? What does it say about you if you say, "Sorry, not today," or "Can't help you out," or "No thanks, not interested."
Does it make us awful mothers, bad people, selfish, self-absorbed? As opposed to the exhausted, irritable, stretched too thinly, rigid, mean people who treat the ones we care about the most horribly because we're fed up and tired.
Today, I had every intention of taking my 3-year old to the Children's Museum. Instead, she wanted to paint with lots of glitter, feathers, and puffy stickers. I wanted to drink coffee and eat potato chips. It worked out well. We didn't judge each other. We let the other one be. We engaged when we wanted to and gave each other space to do our thing in the process. It was lovely.
I'm giving up the fight. I can't be all things right now. It's not only that it's not fair to others...it's primarily, not fair to me.
Instead, I think I'll just enjoy the glittery, feathery mess that so aptly describes where I'm at.
She just had one question, "Do I need better time management?"
She's a wife, a mother, a small business owner and a wonderful human being to lots and lots of people in her life.
And I wanted to scream, "Absolutely, not. You're organized, self-sufficient, beyond capable, kind, and generous both with your time and resources to so many." Instead, I just listened. I know what it feels like to be barely hanging on.
Most of the night it rained and by 4:30am when the alarm went off, I thought, no...not today...even though, I knew that I was shooting myself in the foot. I'm usually more exhausted when I don't do something physical first thing.
But I wanted to sleep. I wanted to feel sorry for all of the places where I come up short. And I just didn't want to have to "do" another thing. And so, I didn't. I turned the coffee pot on and drank a big, hot cup of java in the dark and it was delightful.
After the big kids got out the door, I started to think about my friends and how it makes sense that there's this whole world of life coaches, therapists, yoga, poetry circles, Facebookland, retreat centers, positive affirmations and mantras...we're trying to do everything, all the time, really well.
How did that happen?
Have we always been that way?
Why? What does it say about you if you say, "Sorry, not today," or "Can't help you out," or "No thanks, not interested."
Does it make us awful mothers, bad people, selfish, self-absorbed? As opposed to the exhausted, irritable, stretched too thinly, rigid, mean people who treat the ones we care about the most horribly because we're fed up and tired.
Today, I had every intention of taking my 3-year old to the Children's Museum. Instead, she wanted to paint with lots of glitter, feathers, and puffy stickers. I wanted to drink coffee and eat potato chips. It worked out well. We didn't judge each other. We let the other one be. We engaged when we wanted to and gave each other space to do our thing in the process. It was lovely.
I'm giving up the fight. I can't be all things right now. It's not only that it's not fair to others...it's primarily, not fair to me.
Instead, I think I'll just enjoy the glittery, feathery mess that so aptly describes where I'm at.
Monday, August 25, 2014
Happy First Day of School
We woke up this morning and all of the sudden, our family had a 4th grader, a 2nd grader a soon-to-be preschooler.
Here you are...
As we ate our bowls of cereal, brushed our teeth, braided your hair, put the finishing touches on your lunches and gave you a blessing...I thought, please, please let this be a sacred, beautiful year for all three of you.
Let this be a time where you break through with something significant...where you learn another side of compassion, where your heart grows larger and your brain expands beyond all measure and your faith deepens and you feel both your roots and wings.
You're all getting bigger and well, I think I'm staying the same. So, while I smooth back your hair, smell your breath, check for straggling toothpaste marks and do a double check of your backpacks...I thank you for letting me fuss over you and for being your over protective, hopeful mama for yet another school year.
Fourth grade, Second grade and Preschool are powerful times. Here's to all of the smiles, the tears, the laughs, the let-downs, the dreams, the disappointments and the vast amount of effort and pain that will go into making this year exactly what it's meant to be.
I'm so glad that I get to share in it with all of you. Happy First Day of School!
Here you are...
Let this be a time where you break through with something significant...where you learn another side of compassion, where your heart grows larger and your brain expands beyond all measure and your faith deepens and you feel both your roots and wings.
You're all getting bigger and well, I think I'm staying the same. So, while I smooth back your hair, smell your breath, check for straggling toothpaste marks and do a double check of your backpacks...I thank you for letting me fuss over you and for being your over protective, hopeful mama for yet another school year.
Fourth grade, Second grade and Preschool are powerful times. Here's to all of the smiles, the tears, the laughs, the let-downs, the dreams, the disappointments and the vast amount of effort and pain that will go into making this year exactly what it's meant to be.
I'm so glad that I get to share in it with all of you. Happy First Day of School!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)