How Things Go

Things change quickly. Parents have a more physical reminder as they watch their children grow. One moment they are in diapers; the next you are scrambling to get their 2nd grade science project finished by tomorrow and the next moment they are deciding which colleges have the best degree programs.

I'm constantly amazed by how time passes quickly. Watching the children grow is just one small part of it; as you age, life seems to start flying by. It's like you are taking one long roadtrip; you start out accelerating slowly, gradually picking up speed until you are coasting along at a comfortable pace. Eventually, and excitedly, you arrive at your destination. But at some point, amid all of the fun things you had planned for this trip, you must start the journey home. Disappointed, you start the drive back, purposely slowing your pace as to enjoy as much as you can. But somehow, no matter how you linger, the trip back seems to go faster that the way you came, and you begin to dread the moment you will pull into your driveway, marking the end of your journey.

Some people arrive at their destinations quicker than others. Some take an entire lifetime to get there. No matter where you are, at some point, you will look back at the "journey" and wonder if you spent your time wisely. Some will feel regret or guilt, others will feel unsatisfied, and some will feel good. I hope that I feel good. It is my sincerest wish that I make the most of my time. Besides, who would want to waste a trip that could be the time of your life?

Thoughts on the Rain

It's summertime. The season for lightheartedness, beauty, carefree attitudes. Outside today, it was bright and warm. The light stung my eyes from being inside all day with the curtains closed. Just like my mind and heart; it is hidden from view more often than not.

After a while, I could see the dark clouds rolling in on the horizon. I felt the heaviness of the air and the warm breeze turn humid. Light raindrops fell on my arms and face and hair as I laid prone in the cool, green grass; I stared into the slow swirling battles in the sky, my being completely in the moment.

I'm not sure when it changed; it may have been so gradual that I didn't notice the strength of the wind or the chilly air until sand was scratching my skin and rain was soaking my clothes. I soon had to leave my peaceful spot.

Driving away, I felt sad having to sacrifice my special place; it filled me up inside.

Lists and my brain

I'm notorious for being scatter-brained.

I've taken to making lists, so that I can keep myself on track. I love lists with that clean, numbered look. And I love marking things off. It always feels good to know you accomplished something when you are so busy. I make lists for kids chores. Lists for my budget, lists for things I want.

My newest list-type-thing is a chore chart for the kids. I normally just hand-write a list for them each week and assign it out to each one. During the school year, I would shy away from giving them too many because of homework. Anyway, i always thought that the mothers that used chore charts for their homes were WAY too stiff. But after a week of using one, I am singing it's praises. It made everything so much easier! No more fighting over who gets what. Each day after we get home, the kids drop their backpacks, kick off their shoes, and check the chore chart to see what they've got. Sure, I still have to remind them and check up after it was done, but it took all the guesswork out of it, and the kids seem happier now knowing what to expect. It didn't take long; I just made a list of all te chores I wanted done on a daily/weekly basis and stuck it on a template. Here's what mine looks like:

ChoreList.gif

You can download free templates here. 

I feel a little less scatter-brained today. :)

Mamma Never Said There Would be Days Like This

Yesterday I woke up feeling refreshed, invigorated, and purposeful.

Today I didn't wake up at all.

Let me paint the picture. Yesterday, among normal work frustrations, I managed to drive home excited, looking forward to tomorrow (Which is today). I picked up the kids on time and finally took them swimming, which I had been promising them for the past two weeks. They had a blast; with mom's support and positive encouragement, my 7 yr. old finally dived in with her arm floats, my 10 yr. old was Aqua-man per usual, and although the little one stuck her ankles in and then ran back to mommy crying, they all walked away tired and happy. This was the goal.

We then proceeded to their godmother's house for pizza and snacks, to see her off before her 6 day chaperoning trip to Disneyland with a handful of her clients. (She works with developmentally disabled adults, and is AMAZING.) I helped her pack while the kids spent time outside with the next door neighbor kids, riding bikes and playing in the almost-summertime-air. I hadn't seen her in weeks, so we chatted, vented, and laughed. Later, the kids came in and we played and laughed with them until they giggled so hard their sides hurt.

Afterwards on the drive home (around 9 PM), we swung by the ice cream place for cones and some mother-child bonding. I think the topics "why I can't make friends at school" and "why should I love my sister/brother when they break my toy" was broken into. Granted, I would normally never encourage my children to eat sweets after 7 PM, but today was a good day and I was feeling the generous mood. Uh-oh. That's right, "feeling" is where so many things go wrong.

Fast-forward to 10 PM, the kids are all finally tucked in after brushing teeth and story time. The house was clean from the day before, so I sat down to finish the book I had been reading, my kitty snuggled at my feet. I turn out the lights at 10:30 and slide in a cool, soft bed. I hadn't made dinner, the kids had not fought all day, and they had not gone insane after ingesting sugar. I was even able to get 'me' time! Picture-perfect.

All day, I have been pretending like this morning didn't happen. Drowsy-eyed kids, socks flying everywhere, sloppy lunches thrown together, cereal spilled down their clean clothes. Frantic children and one stressed out mama. After dropping the kids off 20 minutes later than usual, I began the 30 minute drive to work. As I am the one who opens, it is imperative that I am on time. Once at work, my mood improved substantially.

Now, I am fully aware that, sans the 9 PM ice cream rendezvous and 10 PM bedtime, my nightmare of a morning may never had occurred. Yesterday I was an angel and my children adored me, today I was a hungry bear and my kids were fully terrified. But the issue here wasn't that it could have been prevented, but more of how it was handled when it did happen.

Any normal mother's response is to blame themselves. And truly, I could have avoided it entirely (I proclaim). But it makes one think, with all the stuff we put up with; the 'sister hit me!' and the food thrown on the floor, beds unmade for the 4th day in a row, last minute school events ('Oh, mom we have a play tonight at 7, I'm supposed to be the dinosaur'), tearful pleas for the toy/gadget/cereal on TV, millions of errands we have to run to keep our families fed-played-comfortable ON TOP of the actual paying jobs we hold to keep the bills paid; how can a child feel like they've gotten that special attention?

I always promised myself that as a single mother, I would strive to make every day special. That I wouldn't be a raving madman 363 days of the year, and a domestic goddess on birthdays and Christmas. I want my children to hear, see, and feel my love and devotion to them on a daily basis. I've set high standards for myself.

When a day like this comes up, it always makes me feel instantly guilty and fleetingly contemplative. Sometimes I feel inferior to the other women on the office who have busy lives, kids, and social circles who always seem to have it together.

But you know what? I don't think any of us really 'have it together.' No matter how consistent you family life is, how great your children are, or how much familial help you have, every one of us has days like this. We all wade through the muck and unpredictability of motherhood.

I just wish mamma would have told me there would be days like this!

And I maintain that one day in heaven makes up for one day in hell.