big plans

Good intentions. I have them. I swear I do. But they don't mean anything unless I follow through on them. So that idea I had to start a good behavior chart for the boys? Didn't happen. And the family reading time after dinner? That went the way of starting to have the boys do some chores, setting aside "school time", and teaching Jem to read.
I want to make some Christmas crafts with the kids. I'd like to do a better job of reading to them at bedtime on a consistent basis. I was planning to start cutting back on the amount of sugar we eat as a family. I also am still intending to workout more, finish covering the switch plates, and sew a stocking for Caia.

But nap time rolls around and the gravitational pull from the couch is just too much to resist. So I sit down, just for a minute, and the minute turns into an hour. Suddenly all thoughts of creating the chore chart have fled completely as I do my best to clean up the house in the 15 minutes before Sam walks through the door.
My new plan is to take it one step at a time. Maybe instead of cutting out sugar, I'll just eat one less cookie. Maybe instead of creating an entire chore chart, I'll just ask the boys to put their shoes away. Maybe instead of working out tomorrow, I'll park further away from the grocery store entrance. And if you stop by and see me lounging on my couch eating cookies and reading a book, just know that I have really good intentions of accomplishing all sorts of wonderful things. Really, it would blow your mind if you knew how many things I have planned.

photo from: thescrib.com

motherhood with a side of guilt

I've started to notice a trend. The theme of my journey into motherhood seems to be guilt. I want to say it's love or joy or tenderhearted moments. But it isn't. It's guilt.
It started at the hospital. I felt guilty for sending my babies back to the nursery at night time instead of sleeping them in my room. And it just continued from there.  
-I felt guilty for thinking breastfeeding was a duty and not understanding those moms who talked about it like it was the most beautiful thing in the world
-I felt guilty for signing my kids up for preschool and being excited for the break
-I feel guilty when I don't read them a bedtime story
-I feel guilty when I let them watch an extra tv show
-I feel guilty when I don't let them help me make pancakes
-I feel guilty when I lose my temper
-I feel guilty for not having a craft closet
-I feel guilty for not sitting by the bathtub and playing pirates with them during bathtime
-I feel guilty for praying that we don't have a snow day
-I feel guilty for wanting them to just sleep in
-I feel guilty for needing nap time so desperately

This is what motherhood has become for me. It comes from this idea I have in my head of what a mom should be. Some of it is perpetuated by my culture and the people around me. Some of it comes after reading blogs with moms who homeschool eight kids and make it seem like every day is rainbows and kittens. Sometimes it hits me after hearing other moms talk about how glad they are to have their kids home from school for the holiday. The guilt creeps in and tells me that I'm not doing a good job, that I'm not paying enough attention to my kids, that if I was only a better mom I could fix that behavior. It tells me that my kids won't be okay because I couldn't meet the standard.
Sometimes the guilt is good. It can be a reminder to me that I want to try harder and I want to be the best mom that I can. But, more often than not, I allow the guilt to paralyze me. I use it to chastise myself. It doesn't improve my parenting. How can I be a better parent when I'm telling myself that I'm terrible at it? Doesn't exactly build confidence.
I want to let go of the guilt. I want to take this one day at a time and be okay with the emotions that come along with it. I want to enjoy my kids and be okay with those moments when I really want a break. I want to make pancakes by myself but also take time to let my kids help me once in a while. I want to be confident in my skills as a mom and know that I'm doing a great job.

photo from: nathanrouse.org

cookies

I spent the morning at my mother-in-law's house baking cookies. It has become a tradition. The Monday after Thanksgiving, the ladies in the family meet at her house and we churn out chocolate chip and oatmeal raisin cookies, ginger snaps, sand tarts and cherry winks. It is a lot of fun but also tiring. We spend hours on our feet, mixing batter, putting cookie trays into the oven and sampling our wares.
I think that this year is the last year that I'll be able to leave Jem at home. Both boys have expressed an interest in baking and cooking. It is a natural thing for them to be curious about something that their mom does often. And they both love cracking eggs and pouring things into bowls. They want to watch me cook oatmeal and flip pancakes. And I don't let them help me that often. It is hard when I know that the mess will be larger or that some of the batter will fly out of the bowl because they still don't have control over their movements at times. But today I realize that I wanted to make cookies with them here at home. I know that they will enjoy it and that they will be so excited to see the cookies come out of the oven knowing that they had made them.  I think I might have a touch of the crazies because this idea sounds insane. But maybe if I let them help me more often it might become easier to see the beauty in spite of the mess. Maybe making cookies will teach them patience and obedience while it pushes me to give them grace. Or maybe it will be a disaster but at least there will be cookies at the end.

picture from: noregretsliving.wordpress.com

what did you call me?

Today at lunch time, the boys asked me if they could have a cookie. I said no and Truett immediately demanded to know why. Before I could even take a breath to explain, Jem answered him by saying, "Because Mommy's a dummy."
I'm not sure what my face looked like when I turned towards him but it must have been pretty bad because he was already trying to back away from me before I even started reaching for him. I pulled him out of his seat and sent him upstairs to his room to give myself time to calm down.
When I talked to him later, he didn't even remember what he had said. He told me he had called me silly or maybe stinky and I realized that he had probably heard it somewhere, school or tv, and didn't really understand what it meant. He knew enough to realize that it was unkind and we talked about how it hurt my feelings.
In reality, it caught me off guard and made me angry. It is hard to do so much, to try so hard, and to hear something like that. And I'm a little worried too because I'm sure worse things are coming. I can only hope that I am raising my kids to be kind and to consider their words. I can only hope that I can let those comments roll off my back and remember what it is like to be a kid and to disagree with your parents' decisions and that I can offer them grace even as I do my best to make sure it doesn't happen again.

photo by: drbexl  http://www.flickr.com/photos/drbexl-/4298144089/

ch ch ch changes

Tonight, after we finished eating our Thanksgiving meal, Caia decided to start walking. She took a step and fell into my arms and then wanted to do it again...and again...and again. So we got out one of the old walkers that the boys had used and put her behind it. She took one step and toppled over which is what I expected. My mom picked her up and put her behind it again and within a few minutes, Caia was walking around the room behind the walker.
I watched her, delighted at how much she was enjoying herself. And I watched her knowing that this was the start of a big change in our lives and not quite sure that I'm ready for it. But change is inevitable. Am I looking forward to chasing around a toddler? Not really. But I am looking forward to watching her try and succeed and being there to catch her when she stumbles.

Happy Thanksgiving!

May your day be filled with love, your heart with gratitude, and your belly with turkey. Mmmmm...turkey.

 

photo by: The Texas Collection, Baylor University  http://www.flickr.com/photos/texascollectionbaylor/5184440287/

gratitude, mom style

Since Thanksgiving is almost here, it seems appropriate to write a post about things I'm thankful for. And since this blog is mainly about my misadventures in motherhood, I thought I should list things that I'm thankful for that are focused around that. So here is my list of things that I, as a mom, am thankful for this year.

I am thankful ~

~ for my kitchen counter tops that hide dirt so well that I don't even realize they're dirty until I've leaned across them to grab something and my shirt sticks to them.
~ for nap time
~ that no one has flushed anything, besides toilet paper, down a toilet in the past 6 months, at least not that I'm aware of
~ that my boys have listened to the rule about not bringing bugs or worms or salamanders into the house
~ for that one magical night when we sat down to dinner and no one said "this is disgusting"
~ that I only have one child left in diapers
~ that my child only threatens to punch me in the face and that he doesn't actually attempt it
~ for big, round cheeks that are just dying to be kissed
~ for whispered prayers and goodnight kisses
~ for those moments when my children do the right thing without needing to be reminded
~ for preschool
~ for play dates and time with other moms who help remind me that I'm not alone
~ for 5:30 pm when the reinforcements arrive
~ for Jem, Truett and Caia, who fill my life with love, laughter, messiness, challenges and joy and who are training me to be a better person every day

photo by: Madison Faith  http://www.flickr.com/photos/madisonfaith/8145101096/