A rare weekend alone...

One great benefits of the blended family is that every now and again the children are all with the non-custodials. I say "great benefit", because i get to do things like complete a task without interruption, take a nap, work on the business, take a bath, spend less money at the grocery store, meet my Mom for dinner, Facebook, email friends, get lost on ETSY, talk on the phone, write thank you notes, clean, pay bills, did I already mention something about sleep?

Yet here I am, well past midnight... awake. I have Pandora streaming and I set up the house as IF everyone is here. Close the bedroom doors, move silently throughout the house... even make rounds past bedroom doors. I know it's silly, but it's comforting... the thing about a rare weekend alone, even though it can be productive, it's lonely...

The kids bring a life here... to this house... to me. Sometimes, I get a strong thought about one of them... I'm sure they need me... but I can't just hug em, or peak into the bedroom to make sure they are asleep. It's an adjustment that I'm pretty sure no parent ever gets over...

The thing about it is, tomorrow night when they get home, I'll be militant about setting back up the routine... baths, milk, organizing for the week ahead... They'll meet that structure with the resistance of kids who miss the parent they just left... torn by loyalty as much as you tell them not to be... that they are lucky to be loved by so many. They'll all clamor for attention and lash out at each other to get it... they'll talk back and not listen and I'll count backwards from 10 and exercise the time out chair... and I'll try my best to make them all feel the love that is ALWAYS present... weather they are or not.

Driven...

Thank God for PBS when you can't sleep. It's the only decent thing on when you just have basic access channels. This morning I was watching this documentary about the MOF pastry competition held in France every four years. It's like the Pulitzer Prize for craftsman I guess. Anyway, the show follows several of these men, one of whom is from Chicago. And I'm watching the story unfold and what I find most amazing about these men is their drive. Never ever quitting. Everyone has dreams I suppose, but the lengths people will go to to actually achieve them is incredible to me.

I've had the opportunity to be home full time the last few weeks with my kiddos and I see them driven as well. Mainly destructively. Driven to make each other miserable, or to dominate or manipulate a situation. Seriously. The 10 year old uses physical strength to do it. The 8 year old uses a razor tongue. The five year old uses a blend of yelling and crocodile tears that I believe could be certified as a torture device by our military. Even the two year old with his limited language manages to use a great deal of time and energy on this pursuit.

So the upside is I SEE the trait in them... but it's being used for evil instead of good. What I want is to see them driven to make their dreams a reality. Foster that in each of them. But here's the catch. I don't know how. My son has found his passion in violin. I pay for lessons, but I don't ask him to practice. He does that on his own. Every day. It's pretty cool, actually. I try to introduce different types of music. The 8 year old has a passion about performance. Comedy, singing, leadership in general... so I try to give her opportunities to perform. Express herself. The five year old has an eye for beauty. Colors, drawings, sunsets, emotions... she sees the simple beauty in everything around her. It's more than child's perspective though... it's deeper than that. That presents a bigger challenge to me since I know I can not keep her innocent. In a lot of ways she already isn't. I guess just being there to bear witness to the beauty... to reinforce that... And the baby... a ball... anything with a ball... the kid's got an arm like a rocket.

I had a pretty good grip on my own dreams not that long ago and in a lot of ways they're the same one's I've always had... but then I get busy and I forget. Busy trying to run the rat race or pay the bills or raise the kids or just live life I guess. How can I teach myself, since I know that's what the kids see, that following your dreams is just as important as the rest of that stuff? One of the guys in that movie said something like ' At some point you just have to be a little selfish.' Maybe that's it. Rob and I have talked about it before. But there are so many expectations and obligations and responsibilities. I guess you have to tell yourself to take time out. Stay up all night... write... cook... work on the business... all of it. Maybe seeking out stories like the one I watched tonight...

I just know when my kids are 36, I'd like them to be living their dreams or at least chasing after them... not questioning how to fit them in...

Sunday morning...

So yesterday I was cleaning out the book shelf... this is a difficult thing for me... books are like memories for me... I tend to collect the ones I like and even keep the ones I don't. Needless to say, I did find some to list on e-bay. I have no idea why the computer will not let me spell that word correctly. It makes me laugh that I don't even have control over a computer. Anyway, I digress. The books. As I was going through them I found so many of the stories I loved and read again and again. I gave some to Rob as required reading and pledged to myself that when the time comes I will pass them on to my kiddos. I also pledged to re-read some of them again. Just because I loved them. I still love them.

The other thing I found on the shelf were empty journals. Some were dedications and some are just blank and so I decided that I would make more effort on this page to journal... and here I am. Big or little, profound or whatever is the opposite of profound... here it is... My Sunday morning.

Slept in. That's 8:30 people! Awoke to the sounds of the little ones laughing and calling for me. Started the coffee... made pancakes... blueberry AND chocolate chip, just for fun. Then, for me, since I've been thinking about it for a while, fried egg sandwiches. The best panini bread ever... with Phil's Farm Fresh eggs, fresh ground salt and pepper, and that cheap American cheese. Love it. Eggs over easy still runny yolks, and James Brown... I'm in love with Pandora... I just say, I'd like to hear a little of this... and then it takes over. The kids ate, Rob and I ate, we cleaned a little, and worked a little... going to watch Megamind this afternoon... pretty much everything I love about family and Sundays.

All the problems of reality are still there waiting. But taking a break... laughing with the kids and Rob... groovin to James Brown... it's a great day. I think I even saw the sun for a little while this morning.

So inspired by the dedication in one of the journals about the simple things, that I want to try to keep this blog more regularly. Even if it's filled with simple things. It's a reminder that the only way to see the profound aspects of life is to enjoy the simplicity just as much. So there it is... a simple blog entry on a simple Sunday. Yep. As the Godfather of Soul puts it... "I feel good!"

Long absence and other misgivings...

So there's school and full time jobs and independent business ownership and vacations and minivans... I don't really have any excuse other than life. Well that and lack of inspiration. I heard someone say blogging is a discipline. I guess it is. Just like parenting. I mean we all have days we're prouder of than others. Working full time is proving to bring out the later...

There's fourth grade and the two hours of homework... there's the little ones getting used to daycare. There's soccer. There's time for Rob and I... grocery shopping, cleaning, the lawn, a blog, and about a million other things I can't even remember to type right now. I suppose all Mom's feel this way at one time or another. I'm calling upon my faith and the resilience of my children to get through this adjustment. At the end of the day, assuming there is one, everything will be alright.

I caught some part of a sitcom recently where the Mom freaks out about how everything is just spiring downward and all is lost... the camera pans to the kids and even the husband and all appear horrified or dumbstruck by the uncertainty... she quickly realizes it and self corrects. She tells them everything is going to be alright. Everything will be OK. There's a lesson in that.... self affirmation... or positive thinking... or maybe just leading by example... whatever it is, the kids, they need it. Even when you don't feel it. They need to know you're still there and that your fighting the good fight. The last scene in that show, pans to the husband who looks at her and says that everything will be alright. The other lesson. Support. Get it. And if you're not, ask for it.

All we can do as parents is the best we can. The outside influences... the jobs and homework and bills and co-parenting... all of it... must be kept in perspective. Either that, or cry in the shower... sometimes that works, too.

Faith...

I've always relied on it. Clung to it. Lost it from time to time... Faith in love, promises, friendship, truth, what's right. You name it, and faith probably plays a part. I feel the importance of this belief is what gets us through the unsure times. The times you lose something you thought you had. It calms the mystery of that which lies ahead. At least it does for me. I use the word a lot when I parent the children. Have faith. This too, shall pass. Whether it's whining about some perceived injustice or tackling a seemingly insurmountable obstacle, it's a vital part of dealing in this world. They watch you. They learn how to deal with life by the way I deal with it.

There's faith in God, in people, in situations... just about everything I can think of. And, of course, the loss of it. Basically that disappointment of any kind can be made into an opportunity... if you have faith. I suppose I chronicle here tonight this matter to convince myself that I am doing the right thing. That when I'm called upon to lead my children by example, I will not falter. That I do, in fact, have faith... and that they do, too...

My cup runneth over... and other Mother's Day Feelings

Mother's Day has always been a great day for me... I tell the children the story of the day they were born, they give me hand made presents I carefully tuck away to gaze at some time down the road when I can't believe how they grew up right before my eyes... I see my own mother and grandmother usually over brunch of some kind and generally walk around publicly feeling like a part of a pretty cool club, smiling at other mom's and nodding hello... but this year takes the cake.

It began with flowers yesterday afternoon and then a breakfast in bed made by the kiddos... followed by the presentation of home made gifts... a poem from my eldest he requested I read out loud full of beauty and charm, a clay flower pot from my daughter with the promise of filling it with flowers... and smiles all around.

But the greatest gifts were yet to be had. My son had a soccer game in which he expected to score a goal as a "present" to me. He played his heart out. Took a ball hard to the chest, stayed determined to keep himself in play, even lost his shoe at one point and kept playing right though it. When the game was over he walked up to me with tearful eyes and said he was sorry he didn't score a goal for me on Mother's day. I looked at him and said, "I'll take heart like that over a goal any day, kiddo. I'm so proud of you." The twinkle in his eyes and the smile that spread across his lips said it all: 'You love me anyway'. You're damn right I do...

We came home this afternoon and took a long bike ride down the trail. My daughter fell about five minutes into the ride, and after a little coaxing got back up and continued along the path. Well it was such a nice day and the trail was so clear we rode a two towns over before we knew it and decided it best to head back. Well my little kiddo was tired and her knee hurt and she was thirsty and she wanted ice cream and I looked at her and said I have none of those things. We're here. We need to get home and that's just that. What happened next was my other great gift of the day... She just started riding. That's it. All the way home. With determination and purpose and I saw, right then and there, that drive... that willingness to carry on even when the odds were stacked against her... it was huge to me.

I have always carried with me the hope that I might teach my children to persevere. Let's face it, as adults we live with that idea or we slowly spiral downwards... life is tough, but you gotta be tougher... that sort of thing. Well today, I saw that in the kiddos... and man was I proud.

Grace

Grace is one of the traits I admire most in people. Sometimes it's in grand form... fighting cancer, keeping your head up in a tough situation, taking the high road... but many times the beauty of grace is simplistic and brief. Witnessing it is something I take immense pleasure in... but I struggle with how to teach it to the children. It's a difficult thing to point out regularly... as it can be mistaken for kindness, an equally admirable characteristic, but more common and simpler to teach.

I've searched definitions like Webster's on line, http://www.webster-dictionary.net/definition/grace,"The exercise of love, kindness, mercy, favor; disposition to benefit or serve another; favor bestowed or privilege conferred."

Too antiseptic for me... So it seems to me the only way to teach the children to recognize and act with grace is to try to show it as often as possible and point out the examples when they show it and when we see it. I in no way believe this to be easy.

Owning your failures... forgiveness... strength... love... kindness... recognition... patience... it's everything you try to do as a parent... maybe that's why I witness it there. The seasoned mother who can transfer all those traits in a two minute phone message... the father who patiently sets and baits hooks for his young sons untangling lines and teaching instead of fishing himself on a rare day off... the mother who lets her kids "cook" with her for hours even when she's exhausted because she knows it makes them feel like they belong... the parents of the wheelchair bound child who never let her suffer for it because they're too busy taking here everywhere and doing everything with her as if she weren't... the father who coaches three soccer teams for his kids and still manages to compliment another parent for working the concession stand... the parents who's son gets JD but hardly skips a beat with anything he loves to do because they make it their mission in life to do so.

I feel exceptionally blessed to be surrounded by all kinds of graces every day, and even though I don't always succeed I try to emulate them... As far as the teaching children to recognize it, I'm thankful I have more time. It's a difficult lesson.