moments in time

I was out running errands the other night, and pulled into a parking spot. I soon realized an area junior high school was having their homecoming dance dinner at a restaurant in this shopping center, as I saw little, tiny babies dressed in suits and frilly dresses walking in groups. Of course, they weren't really babies, they just looked that way to my momma-eyes.

Out of the car next to me emerged a tall, thin boy in a shirt and tie, looking awkward, nervous and eager to escape his parents. He stood outside the car while his dad took a picture of him with his phone. He looked determinedly away, obviously not wanting to be delayed. After the picture was taken, with his dad's comments of how great he looked falling un-received to the ground--the boy began to stride away from mom and dad toward the shopping center. His shoulders were bunched up, his hands either shoved into his pockets or adjusting his tie or patting down his mop of brown hair.

I looked over at the mom. She stood away from the car--one hand on her chest, one hand waving. Her mouth moved, but no words came out. She looked to be on the verge of tears. I felt tears spring to my eyes, too. Will my boy have this same moment?

As I walked through the shopping center, groups of junior high kids passed me. Their electric energy was palpable; the level of glam they each were exhibiting was mind-numbing. They were so young! I thought about how hard those ages are, how high school is even harder. I imagined my own kids in that crowd. In that awful, awkward age where you are between child and adult. Where no one knows who they are and there is a lot of "mean" going around. I said a prayer for my babies, and these, to be strong.

Those moments are seared into my memory. I don't know what junior high and high school will be like for my babies, but I pray they make a safe passage. I pray that today I can be instilling in them the things they will need to make it through those years...

But, mostly...it makes me adore today even more.

Today, my boy grabs my face and insists we kiss on the lips when I drop him off at school. In front of his friends. With a big, big hug.

Today, my girl insists on wearing combinations of clothing that leave me equal parts embarrassed and pleased that she can feel so good in such an eye-watering array. "Aleni boot-a-full." Yes, you are.

Today, my boy wrestles me to the ground and makes me laugh until I cry when he says, "Don't worry about it, dollface." (Thanks, Penguins of Madagascar)

Today, my girl stealthily sneaks down the stairs at night after her brother is fast asleep... her freshly-bathed hair hanging in her eyes, thumb in her mouth. She tiptoes into my room, wanting just a few more moments of mommy-girl time before going off to sleep.

Today, my girl whispers to me her secrets, my boy asks me to snuggle him....they find me to tell me they love me.

And... they tell me--there truly is no way to freeze time? Maybe not, but in writing about it... at least it can be remembered.

the pictures lie.

Monday was a day for the memory books. And, it is rather humorous that it so closely followed my previous posts about the joys of this stage with my kiddos.

So, yes. Monday, both kids were up before 7. For me, life doesn't start until after 7. Anything before 7 is still "night". So, I stayed in bed and listened to them quietly playing in the playroom. I finally pulled myself out of bed and walked into the playroom, ready to congratulate Noah and Aleni on playing nicely together. I was stopped by the vision my eyes beheld.

They had emptied the entire (brand-new) box of carpet powder onto the floor in a heap, and were driving their little trucks and back-hoes thru the powder, extending the mess out into a wide circle around them.

"Look, mom!" Noah happily exclaimed, "I'm Scoop from Bob the Builder!" Oh, joy. So, since I still wasn't officially awake or useful to society, we left the pile as it was and headed downstairs for breakfast. Breakfast went along in typical fashion and the kids went back up to the powder pile to play.

About 4 minutes later, I heard Aleni screaming in real pain, so I rush up the stairs to find her holding her head, near her eye, which is now swollen and dripping blood. Apparently, she had annoyed Noah and Noah responded by chucking a wood block at her with great force. Clean up the girl, put the boy in time out. Force apologies. Continue on.

Try as I might to introduce fun things into the day, the kids were just in one of those sour moods where nothing goes right. Everything ended up broken, or with whining, or in a fight. I was pushing them on the swings, and Noah decided to jump off at the highest point. And, immediately learned why not to do that. With much drama.

In the middle of this glorious morning, I had to pack the kids into the car and head to the eye doctor for the I-don't-know-how-manynth time for my FOURTH fitting for a contact. I must indeed have very special eyes. I drag my bundles of perfection into the waiting room, then back to the doctor's room, and as soon as I open the package for the new contact, I can see it's not going to fit right. Seriously? Of course. So, a fifth contact was ordered and we headed back home.

I decided that I couldn't loose with a swim, so we did that. But, I found out... Yes, you can loose with a swim! The entire time they were in the pool, it was one conflict after another. It was so bad that even our dear, sweet neighbor was in hysterics. It was literally as though anything they weren't supposed to do, they wanted to do and would fight and tantrum for the right to do it.

Nap time to the rescue! I was living for naps that day, since it was a day that it just felt like we should've all gotten back into bed and tried a re-do. Naps--the almighty "reset" button.

Joyfully, both children fell asleep (Noah is averaging about one nap every 2 weeks). I collapsed into a chair and listened to the silence

Of course, Noah ended up having an accident. In our bed. On my new bedspread.

But, that's just because it was that kind of a day.

Ah, and just to show you that you can't believe everything you see in pictures.... I told my neighbor I would take some pictures of the "fun" we were having in the pool that day so everyone could envy the "perfection"!!

Noah, smiling from the "house" it took several tantrums to build.

Aleni, smiling serenely as she steps on the hose that cleans the water. 

Which she knows not to do.

See?? You can see my neighbor laughing. She knows. She was there.

Seeing, is this case, is not believing.

caught lingering...

I can't really put it into words, these feelings of late. But, I have a feeling that there may be some other mommas who know what I am trying to say.

The measure of how much I love this stage is undefinable.

Noé-- sturdy, funny, four. Figuring out the world one "why" at a time. Laughing, throwing back his head in an full-bodied expression of joy that brings out the dimples in his cheeks and the twinkle in his eye. Noé, a gentleman. First to ask, "Are you ok?" or "Do you want to play with me?" Noé, firstborn. Thinks in black-and-white. Wants to know where the lines are and wants to enforce them. The planner, the thinker, the creator. Loving friends, loving structure, loving one-on-one time.

Aleni--independent, mischievous, determined, two-and-a-half. Her beauty takes my breath away, causes me to drink it in. The fierceness of her, the grace of her. I adore seeing traces of her heritage in her complexion, the shape of her nose, the long delicate fingers and frame. The way she seems to see herself as huge and invincible. The ways she seems to have no fear (Unless you throw costumed people, clowns, mascots, life-sized stuffed animals into the mix! Then you will see her most squeamish side. That's how I know she is my daughter.). These things both fascinate and frighten me. She is wild where Noé is cautious, impulsive where he is calculated. What a pair they make.

I feel as though I must somehow etch every moment of them into my memory, as into stone with a chisel. A sense of desperation--will I forget the way their deep chocolate brown eyes are filled with golden shining? Will I forget that cute thing he said... or the way Aleni loves to run full-speed ahead, head down and arms flung out straight behind her like a cape? Will the tender moments of play together, as they converse back-and-forth as only small children can, heads together, intensely focused--fade into shapeless shadows? Will I remember how hard they work to make us laugh, how much it means to them to be "a fam-ah-wee together"?

When Noé's boyish voice is lost in adolescence, will I cry? When Aleni looses the freedom of just being a kid--will it hurt my heart?

Somehow, with all the hard parts that come with raising preschoolers, I find myself desperately wishing to freeze time.

Perhaps, it is knowing that growing up is hard on a kid.

I think, though, the reality is I know that when this time is over, it's over. Yes, that will mean that I won't be wiping behinds and cleaning up puddles all day... but it also means loss. A loss of all those cute things that only little ones do, those who are virtually unaware of their bodies, expectations, and outside judgement. When they just purely are who they are.

My babies, I adore you just the way you are (and know my love will only grow).

i am a lion tamer... among other things.

I don't know why... but for me--it's all in how I think about it. If I can think of being broke down on the side of the road as an adventure--it's ok! If I can think of being hungry as a way to identify with those who don't have food--I can make it all the way to McDonald's without complaining (haha).

So, for some reason, I find myself re-evaluating what I may be finding mundane. The dailies. Re-looking at what I have understood to be the "right" way to do things. Re-defining.

In this search for getting the right mindset, I have come across 3 thoughts that are transforming the way I look at my calling as of today... in other words: motherhood.

One thought came to me during a talk at a MOPS meeting a few months ago. As the woman talked about the issue of discipline, I sat on the edge of my seat--pen in hand: "Give me the magic potion, woman!" While she did give some helpful, practical tips for disciplining, what most stood at to me was the instruction to beware of thinking of children as "basically good and perfect". She said, instead of treating them like wonderful little adults who could do no wrong--we should see our relationship more like this:

As in, our kiddos come at us as "un-tame" and wild. It is our job to mold them into respectful, productive members of society with a passionate heart for God and His Kingdom. For some reason, that really was a "shift" in my mind. Now, I did not think of my kids as perfect in any way--but the view that I had been told often that my kid's "sin nature" was causing them to misbehave just never sat right with me. I know it's the truth--but (for me) looking at my kiddos that way made me feel more judging and harsh to them as opposed to loving and nurturing.

So, where to find the balance between harsh, judgmental parenting and over-indulgent, "we are buddies" type parenting?

#1: I am a lion tamer.... not an indulgent peer.


For me, it was sooo helpful to think of this "tamer" image as my role. My kids misbehave because they come to me "untamed". If I think of a mistake, a disobedience, a defiance as just evidence of that-- it is easy for me, as the trainer, to step up and implement the training necessary to "tame" them. It took out the emotional side of their bad behavior.

If I don't expect misbehavior and mistakes along the way, it is easy for me to take each and every one of those either as a direct reflection of my failures as a parent or to jump to anger that they would dare to defy me.

It's neither of those things. Testing the boundaries, messing up, accidents--they are all par for the course in the taming of our kids. If I expect these things to happen, and have a system set in place for getting my little wild things back on track, it really makes the momma load so much easier.

If you have time, you should read about how lions and horses (and any other animal) are tamed. It is so interesting to note the themes of earning respect, patience, repetition and constancy in every training method. It truly is piece by piece, one thing building on another. Children whose hearts have truly been trained to listen and obey to God's voice do not happen overnight.

Some definitions that I loved as I thought about this concept:

Tame: "Changed by man from a naturally wild state into a tractable, domesticated, or cultivated condition. Brought from wildness into a domesticated or tractable state."

Train:

1. To coach in or accustom to a mode of behavior or performance.

2. To make proficient with specialized instruction and practice. Synonym: Teach.

3. To prepare physically, as with a regimen: train athletes for track-and-field competition.

4. To cause (a plant or one's hair) to take a desired course or shape, as by manipulating.

5. To focus on or aim at (a goal, mark, or target); direct.

On to my next new mindset:

Sometimes (ok, try every day) it can be easy for all that I do in a day to go unnoticed. Un-praised. Why people don't follow behind me, applauding when I scrub a toilet or twittering when a word of wisdom falls from my lips is beyond me... :-P That's just it. Being a momma is so every day. It's right there in the middle of that 15th sibling squabble and answering "why?" for the 100th time. "Have some ice cream!" "Whhhhhyyyyyy?"

Do you ever feel the need to glamorize things? Or to dramatize them? Or to exaggerate them? I know it's just me--but, sometimes it happens. Our days can seem so routine and unglamorous that we've gotta do something to spice 'em up

That's why a snippet from this great, wonderful, amazing, can't wait-to-read-it-again devotional caught my eye:

#2 I am a servant not a martyr.

Why is that so profound? Because she talked about the fact that, come on whiners: We CHOSE this vocation! No one tied us down and made us have our babies. No one is commanding us to stay home and raise them. No one is holding a gun to our head as we make the meat loaf.

We are choosing it. Why?? (Ah, I sound like my boy!) Because we at some crazy, delusional time in our life decided it was right.

We chose to be servants. We chose to pour our lives into our family and be a bedrock of wisdom and love for our home. We chose to make our home a nest where loved ones can feel Jesus. So, instead of internally moaning when no one noticed that I scrubbed out the sink or ironed the clothes--I can thank Jesus for the opportunity to serve where He has called me. The opportunity to show His love in tangible ways.

And that is amazing. That is enough reason to get our weary feet out of bed in the morning!

Lastly, #3.

Mommas: Forgive me. I compare myself to other mothers. I compare my kids to other kids. I compare our discipline methods to other people's discipline methods. I may even feel pressured to imitate what seems to be working for another family. I may even try to line up our priorities with theirs.

While I want to have the heart of a student until the day I die, I loved another mental shift I gained from the devotional I mentioned.

My personality needs a goal to work towards. An image. A reason. And, if it's super clear and concise--I am all over it.

#3: I am a disciple-maker... not a creator of perfection.

In the devotional, the author spoke of how our job is not to create these perfect children, set on a pedestal for all to adore. Nope. My job is to cultivate kids who have the heart of Jesus towards this world. "Disciples who understand their mission and who will contend for God's glory."

What does that mean? That means modeling it! Showing love to the least of these. Serving in unexpected ways. Learning to train your eye for hurt and need--and then seeking to be like Jesus in that situation.

I don't know about you--but those thoughts gave me some serious tunnel vision: I could see it! I could see where I wanted my kids to be as adults! I could see concrete ways to instill that from early on. I could see what to make a big deal of in life (i.e: Praising signs of compassion, tenderheartedness, service) and what to just let be (i.e: Handwriting, physical abilities, perfectionism).

I am trying to, even now, engage my kiddos in discussions. As we slurped on juice boxes at the park: "Did you know that every person you meet is so special? Because God made them!"--and thrill at the way their eyes ponder this, or light up at the connection. "What is a way we can show love?" And the 4-year old answer: "By not hitting." Ahh. Our job is so great.

Zzzzz.

Me sporting my best "I'm-so-over-this" face

It seems that everywhere I look, I see tired moms. Maybe it's just the groggy lenses I am looking through... But, it does seem that way.

On the one hand, it really makes me feel good to know that I am not the only one that has to give myself a pep talk before swinging my feet out of bed. It makes me feel like I am part of a community of home-front warriors who are tired in the battle, but still going onward.

As I was thinking about this, a friend posted this link...which further verified my thoughts of "We're all tired these days".

It could be this time change thing that is hitting so hard, but--as I told Rey a couple of days ago--"I am so tired of being tired. I can't remember when I didn't feel tired."

My Noah can be a ray of sunshine, but when the forecast is stormy--the house trembles. He's had a few days of storms lately... and by bedtime I am completely drained of every ounce of energy and the prospect of another day similar to that day overwhelms me.

Yesterday, for example was highlighted by numerous (and seemingly unprovoked) meltdowns... the couch also had its own meltdown. Let me explain: Noah (as I mentioned before) has decided clothing is a burden and yesterday afternoon stripped down to his birthday suit. It has turned cold here and it was definitely too cold to be a la naturale. After struggling to get clothes on him, I decided to just switch our space heater on for a few minutes and buy myself some time to brush my teeth before getting the kids together to head over to my aunt's house. About 4 minutes later, I came back into the livingroom to find a column of smoke rising to the ceiling. Noah had pushed the heater over against the couch and now there was smoke rising, red embers in the couch and a big black hole melted into the upholstery. The up-side to this story is we are planning on getting the couches recovered anyway. Some day. But, grrr! Not what you want to find.

So, I know that my strength comes from waiting on the Lord and clothing myself in His joy. I know that joy comes from choosing what I focus on. I know that focusing on God and His strength, His faithfulness is what will get me through today. In this season of life, I am finding myself too weary to do almost anything that required more brainwaves--such as deep Bible studies. I am not pretending that is correct, but that is honest. So, I am doing what I can to listen worship music or sermons as I do the mundane things, like washing dishes or scrubbing dried banana off the high chair tray. It really does help.

I also know that remembering that what I am doing matters will help me. If I focus on what God has given me and where He has me, rather than chafing in its limitations to my personality and mobility--I can find peace, contentment. If I remember that we are raising up men and women of God, that we are helping to shape lives and guide souls... I will not soon discount my occupation. Reading this helps me to regain focus.

I know that this is a season. A precious season. So even if prying my eyes open and shuffling to the kitchen seems like climbing Mt. Everest today... I can remember that what God is doing in me can only be done this way. And I can pray that what God is doing though me is a good and perfect work in the gifts He has loaned me.

So, my momma friends: I write this not only as a confession of where I am... but hoping that it helps you too. We are amazing in our work, far-reaching in our influence. We may be tired, but we will not give up!

Popularity

(How it was supposed to look....)

So, Rey is gone on a day-long trip to one of the communities.

It's ok. It happens about twice a week. I am getting the hang of juggling the kids schedules, housework and cooking in a relatively peaceful manner.

Today, I decided to be "Miss (or perhaps, "Mrs." to you) Adventurous" and take the kiddos to the park. Rey had left the van, so it suddenly became a much more viable option. (Thinking I had to walk, I was trying to decide if I'd put Aleni in the front pack and Noah in the stroller until we got to the park... or put Aleni in the stroller and let Noah walk too???)

As we left, I shut Canela in the house and trucked the babes down the 3 flights of stairs and got them loaded into the van. At this point, Canela is howling her head off. I mean, really howling. Thinking it would probably get old for our downstairs neighbors, I decided to take her, too.

I now graduated from Miss Adventurous to Miss Super Duper Adventurous. Grabbed Canela's leash and ran her down the 3 flights of stairs, loaded her into the back of the van and off we went.

Sooo... the park has 2 entrances. The main one, which is really busy and has no shade, or the back entrance which is quieter and very shady. We went to the back entrance. The only bad part about the back entrance, is the 20 feet leading up to it is paved in about 2 inches of sand and littered with several big rocks. Have you ever tried pushing a stroller through 2 inches of sand?

I got Noah out. Got the stoller out. Pulled the dog out from under the seat and tied her leash to the stroller. Put Aleni in the stroller. And we were off! A picture of serenity, Noah helping me push the stroller. There is a crowd of about 20 park-cleaner-upper people standing/lounging around in the shade outside the park entrance. They boredly watch the "got-it-together-gringa-mama" do the seemingly impossible....

I notice that the sand is seeming reeeeeaaalllllyyy hard to push through today, and look down to see Canela is pulling backwards on her leash as hard as she can. All of the skin off her neck has piled up into rolls over her eyes and she is doing her utmost to stop the procession. Ahh, great. Forgot the dog is anti-social. Well, ni modo, gotta get in that park.

I keep pushing, she keeps pulling and progress in slow. Then, one person notices, "Ehhh! Mira el perrito!!" one shouts. "It's a perritAAAA" I think huffily to myself. The whole group starts gesturing and giggling. "Ha ha!! Look at it! You don't have it trained, huh?? Ha ha." I smile feebly and keep desperately pushing. Everyone keeps laughing and shouting out observations and advice.

I end up picking up Canela and putting her in the stroller basket, since she was just being dragged along. To increase the comic element, Canela jumped right out and the crowd roared. I should have charged for this great entertainment.

A lady came up behind us with her rake and tried to encourage Canela along. "Come on, little dog. Walk!"

But, she didn't, until we got through the entrance and she couldn't see the people anywhere. Then she trotted alongside, just as "trained" as could be.

Sigh.

At least the park staff will have something to talk about over lunch today.

Remembering to revel...

Recently, I've realized that I really enjoy being stinky and covered in any combination of slobber, spit-up, snot and tears. Deep down inside.

Ya know why?

Because those are the little badges of mommyhood given to me by my very own munchkins, and even if some days I moan when I see a mirror, I am coming to see that this has it's own very special beauty.

I am so glad I have babies.

Babies keep me humble. Nothing like a temper tantrum in the middle of the store or a baby out of his/her comfort zone to make you think twice before you judge another momma.

Babies keep me accessible. It is incredible how toting a baby on your hip automatically makes people feel they can talk to you more easily. And how it makes ME want to talk to THEM. (What?? An ADULT???)

Babies keep me young. When else could I have a legitimate excuse to clamber through the McDonald's playland or gyrate to a kid's music video? I ask you.

Babies keep me smiling. How can I not? When I look at those big beautiful eye framed by awesomely long lashes. When a roly-poly doll-baby beams her face-splitting grin up at me. When he does something mischievously goofy just to see me smile... how can I not?

Babies keep me full of awe. Really? Truly? All of this personality... beauty... life... come from my own body? This little tyke is the same little 8 pounder that keep me up nights??

Babies teach me what love is. They teach me what it is to dream big for little lives. They teach me that I want to live a better life, so they can have a better example. They teach me to reach out in empathy-- to cry with others, laugh with others.

I can truly say babies are a gift. I can truly say they have changed me forever.

Now, I'm off to change a diaper.

Reflections on Girl Babies

Whenever anyone hears we're having a girl...they always seem so estatic. Almost relieved. They give me that special, insider's look that says, "You finally got what you really wanted."

And, I am super excited to be having a girl. But, I think deep-down I was kind of feeling like a baby boy would be easier. There's the obvious, shallow reason: way less new clothing needed! But, I honestly feel more nervous about the parenting aspect with a girl.

I feel like I "get" boys a little more (it could possibly have something to do with the fact I have 7 bros and only 2 sisters). I feel like this world is even more scary for girls than ever, and will I be able to be the example and influence that she needs to be strong and pure? Confident and holy? Will I be strong enough to remain steady in her turbulant "becoming-a-woman" years?

I guess these issues are pretty far away at this point, but I can't help thinking about them. It's probably a good time to be working on becoming the woman I would like my girl to be...and praying up for the wisdom I am gonna be needing!