Today, I am reminded of that line from one of the Rugrats movies where one of the twins (the boy) comments on some else’s grumpiness (probably Angelica).  At any rate, he says, “Well somebody got up on the wrong side of the bread this morning”.  That is exactly how I feel today, and I don’t know why.

Of course, I got less sleep than the recommended 8 hours.  Okay, it was more like 6.  But that’s nothing new for me, so I’ve ruled that out.

I do have a lot of mundane things to do around the house, but that’s not new either.

My two homeschooled teens have come down with a bad case of SNMSS- “slow-neuron molasses-synapse syndrome”, meaning the neurons in their brains are working extra slowly and the synapse are filled with molasses (or so it seems).  On days like this, questions like “In what year was the War of 1812?” ellicit a response of “uuummm, uuuhh… can you repeat the question?”

Unfortunately, no I cannot- not today.  I feel so tired, and like I’m in some sort of fog.  Maybe I’m coming down with something?

At any rate, my patience is about as long as a green light when you’re running late for work, and I am just not feeling it.  I just want to crawl back into bed for a few hours, and start over later.  Maybe.

Only Monae has to dance at a Black History Program this evening in the city, and since dh works in the city, he’s just going to hang out after work so he can go straight there.  It is, after all, right down the street from where he works, and at $3.71 a gallon, he’d better not drive all the way home first!

But that means that I have no relief in sight, because by the time the service ends (she’s performing at a church service), it will be bedtime for the kiddies.  I don’t even think I’ll get my walk in today- but I HAVE to figure out how to get that in, because it’s one of my Lenten commitments.  SIGH.

Maisy needs her hair done; so does Monae.  So do I for that matter- right now, I’m rocking something that’s midway between Frederick Douglas and Macy Gray.

I need to recharge.  I’m going to go hide for a little while (well, as much as you can hide with a 4 and 2 year old crawling all over you), give the big kids something they can work on independently, and hopefully pull it together enough to get all this hair done and get to this performance on time.

There’s no place like the Chocolate Spa at the Hotel Hershey!

There’s no place like the Chocolate Spa at the Hotel Hershey!

There’s no place like the Chocolate Spa at the Hotel Hershey!

dang.

Oh well, it was worth a try.

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In my previous post, I mentioned a great book, Joy for Beginners by Erica Bauermeister, and the fact that much of it resonated with me and is certainly worth sharing and applying to my life.  The statement that resonated with me the most from the book is one that has meaning on so many levels, and it’s simply this:

Adults need to have fun so that children will want to grow up!

I think that’s true on so many levels, and perhaps explains society’s current problem of adult children who never do, in fact, grow up.  Perhaps older adults, busy with making a life and providing stability, forgot to have any fun at all- and so gave their children nothing to look forward to but a life full of hard work and bill payments.

Many people grow up with parents who wake up every day tired, go to a job they complain about, come home tired, do more “work” around the house, never have time to play or relax, stress and complain about bills to play and how they never have enough money, never go on vacation, and then wake up and do it all again.  I mean, really-  if that’s what growing up means, can you blame them for never wanting to?  At least as a kid, you have your friends, ride on your parents tab, and lack a certain level of responsibility- so of course they’re still riding that wave at 25, 30, 35, and 40- if you let them.

I think parents forget that every single day, they are shaping their children’s childhood memories as well as creating what the future looks like for adults.  Yes, it’s a tall order, but it’s not hard to carve out something beautiful to aspire to.  Just don’t forget to live a little.  (I’m not suggesting for a moment that we shirk our responsibilities, quite the opposite- that a part of our adult responsibility is demonstrating that life is good and worth living.)

If you’re married, that means spending time together as a family having fun, and also letting your kids see you invest in each other.  Spending time just with your spouse doing something you both enjoy, going somewhere fun- if your marriage is stagnant and boring, why would your kids want to grow up and do that?

If you’re a single parent, it still means doing fun things together, and having some adventures of your own.  What if your child never gets married or gets married older in life?  Give them the expectation of a full life in spite of- show them that single people have rich, full, exciting lives, too.

I’ll probably have more to say about his subject, but I gotta run-dropping the kids off at my mom’s so that hubby and I can have a day filled with adventure to tell them about when they come home.  What kind of adventure are YOU gonna have today?  This weekend?  Next week?  Think about it, and then go DO something!

Joy For Beginners

2012/02/24

It’s been a long time since I’ve posted, but I’m going to try and do better.  ‘Nuff said.

One of the blogs I follow, Cheaper By The Half Dozen, mentioned a book in a post I read a few days ago.  The book, Joy for Beginners by Erica Bauermeister, is February’s book selection on the blog She Reads (also penned in part by the author of Cheaper by the Dozen).  It sounded intriguing, so I snagged a copy from the library.  This is easily the best book I’ve read in a long, long time- not because of the writing or anything like that, but because of the subject and how adeptly it’s handled.  This is the kind of book that touches your soul; the kind that you hold inside of you forever.  I will never forget this book and the lessons I learned from it.  Don’t be surprised to see entire posts stemming from one line or theme from this book!  If you like reading fiction, or even if you don’t, I still recommend that you check this one out.

I’m not sure if I found so many nuggets of wisdom and insight in the book  because they were just there- intended by the author to pierce the heart of each reader, or because I was looking for them.  I’m at a place of openness right now- openness toward my future, and hopes, and dreams.  Openness toward rediscovering the anticipation and expectation of wonderful things happening in my life.  I want to live, really live my life, becoming as grown and mature as I can possibly be, in the most childlike way possible.  Childlike because I want to believe and receive it with no doubts or second guessing based on bad experiences, fear, or whatever it is that other people think.  I want to really embrace the future and the hope that God has for me, knowing with every fiber of my body that He CAN and He WILL give me the desires of my heart if I delight myself in Him, just ‘cuz.

So!  Back to the book.

As a quick summary, there are seven women.  One has battled cancer and won, and at her victory party, the others decide she must do something she’s never done before, something that scares her, to overcome her fear.  For her, they choose white water rafting through the Grand Canyon.  It was initially her daughter’s suggestion, which they get a hold of.  Completing this will cause her to do two things- first, face the direct fear of the rapids.  More importantly, commit to something a year away (the trip is for a year in the future), as she has yet to embrace the fact that she has survived and does, indeed, have a future to look forward to and plan for.

She accepts, but with one condition- she gets to pick something equally challenging for each of them to accomplish.

What a great idea!  I’m totally going to round up some gals and steal it.  Seriously.

I’ll keep you posted on my thoughts about this book, and on my journey to truly get a life this year.  Your job is to get a life, too (if you don’t already have one) and to hold me accountable!!!  With that said, go check out my next post about a statement from the book that holds a lot of meaning- particularly as it pertains to children growing up, and how adults facilitate that.  Go read!

If you are a mom, you are probably familiar with this phrase.  If not, and for those of you who are not moms, I’m not referring to the heart that pumps blood through my body.  My “mother’s heart” is the one in the center of my chest and the pit of my stomach at the same time; the one that aches when your kids hurt, warms when they give you kisses, and smiles when they pick a bunch of dandelions so that you’ll have “pretty flowers”.  It’s also the one that fiercely protects when your kids are in danger, and is on alert for boo-boos, monsters under the bed, or the heartbreak of a first crush, depending on how old your kids may be.  This “heart” never gets a break either, and like the other one, needs it’s life-blood your kids- in order to survive.  When one of them is in any type of predicament- real or imagined- your “mother’s heart” immediately responds.

It’s that “heart” that I am currently doing my best to ignore- yes, I said ignore.  You see, this is one of those “imagined” moments of danger- when I say imagined, I don’t mean that the possibility for hurt does not exist, but that if that hurt should come to pass, it’s one that will ultimately help my child- in this case my oldest son- grow into the responsible man he is quickly becoming.

And it’s such an insignificant thing.

My son is a Junior Firefighter.   That’s one of the things he wants to do with his life.  In a nutshell, he receives the same training as regular firefighters (they are trained by active firefighters) only they don’t train with live fires.  But they do everything else.  Right now, he’s the sergeant of his platoon (the kids are grouped into platoons), but elections are today- he’s running for captain.

Last year, I got really nervous and “mama beary” when he decided to run for sergeant.  Not that I had any real reason to be concerned, as he’s well- liked by his peers and is very dedicated, I knew he’d be upset if he wasn’t elected.  You see, they still vote kids in to positions- understanding that sometimes having to face a defeat will not ruin you for life- in fact, it can help grow you as a person and build resilience and integrity- which stands in contrast to the current trend of “let no child feel any type of disappointment ever” (which, I think, is why as adults they are so unprepared to deal with it).  But, I digress.

He has been nervous about this for over a week, and especially this morning as we traveled to the fire station.  I cold feel his nerves, and my “mother’s heart” ached to tell him not to accept the nomination- for fear that he would be disappointed if he wasn’t chosen.  My mother’s heart knows that he will be very hurt, and very sad, and it can’t stand the thought of him being disappointed.  It wants to shelter him, to protect him from his own ambition and in some cases (gasp!) dreams, because they may be a little too ambitious, or so my mother’s heart thinks.  He might get hurt!!!

Luckily, I have lots of brothers and nephews and a husband who remind me that I’m not raising a little boy, I’m raising a future man- and I remember their words as I listen to him tell me his plans for advancement.  My son has always had a plan for his life- a path he intended to follow.  I’m not surprised, since I’ve been praying for that very thing since before he could roll over.  Every day, almost without fail, sometimes getting back up from bed when I realized I had forgotten, I would place my hands on his head, his back, his feet, and pray “Lord, please show him Your purpose for his life while he is young.  Make it plain to him; give him the boldness to walk into that purpose regardless of who understands or agrees.  Lead him the way that he should go, and help me to do whatever I can to not hinder him, but to help him to become the man you’ve created him to be.”  Everyday.  For YEARS.

So he’s a kid with plans for his life.  Sometimes I guide, and sometimes I stand back in awe.

This is a part of his path, I know.  He may not get chosen, and he might,  Either way, it’s part of the plan- a plan that he’s prepared to take risks for, I might add.  And I try to respect that, even as my “mother’s heart” is shouting at me to “put an end to all this dreaming and goal setting- what if he gets hurt??!!!!”

And I distract myself, and I shush “her” as loudly as I can, because this is something he feels he needs to do.  It’s not inappropriate or weird or anything else most moms of teenagers are concerned about.  And yes, he might get hurt- but if he does, he’ll learn to move past it.  To press on.  He’ll become stronger, and more resolved- that’s how he is.  Either way, he’ll be fine.

I’m proud of my son today, because he’s not afraid to push past his greatest fears to get what he wants.  I wish I had more of that when I was younger.  I wish I had more of it now.  I learn from him, sometimes.  He’s teaching me right now.

And so, as I quiet my “mother’s heart” for the 1,000th time today, I end this post, as it’s almost time to pick him up.  This post was part of my distraction, too.  I wonder how the elections went, wondering whether I’ll be planning a special meal to celebrate, or a special activity to help assuage the hurt.  Either way, he’ll be fine, and so will I- until next time.

Update: Mark is still sergeant; he didn’t get promoted.  He’s not nearly as upset as I am, lol.   He said he got over it really quickly, and now he knows what he needs to do to help ensure his promotion for next year- and he can’t wait to get started.  Another lesson learned (by me).

Milk, Pweeze!!!!

2011/09/04

Max the Milkman

My youngest son, Maxwell, is still nursing at 23 months old.  There was a time when I would have been appalled by this (with ds #1), because I believed what most people I encounter believe- that nursing should stop by the time a baby is about 6 months old, and definitely not past a year (and that’s pushing it!)  14 years ago, I hadn’t done any research on the benefits for mother or baby, and I was very easily influenced by my family’s beliefs (even though most of them didn’t nurse at all).  That’s probably why it seemed so foreign to them in the first place.

My youngest daughter nursed until she was 14 months old- I think she stopped because I got pregnant with her brother and my milk was just different.  I didn’t encourage her to wean, she just did.  I would have been happy to nurse her for another few months.  At this point I knew more, but not as much as I do now.

Maxie is happily nursing and showing no signs of stopping.  He speaks more clearly than most two year olds I have met and has been for almost 6 months now, so he’s been actually asking for milk for awhile.  He speaks in full sentences, answers questions, holds conversations, and will ask why and answer you with because… and give you an explanation.  And, not only will he ask for milk, he’s specify which boob he wants it from, lol.  To most people, even without considering his size (30lbs), the fact that he can say all that means he’s too old to still be nursing.

I have come to disagree.  Before I was strong enough to admit this however, I went through various stages of “faking it”.  First, I would pretend as though I was unhappy with the situation (Ugh, he’s always nursing!  I never get a break!) Then, I would act as shocked as they did (I know! I can’t believe it either!  He just refuses to stop!)  After that, I would make light of it and immediately change the subject (Yes, he’s still nursing, but I’m pretty sure he’ll be done before he starts college.  So, how about those Ravens?!).  That one actually isn’t a bad response at all, only now I’m at a point where I really don’t care what people think and wish they would keep their counsel.

Honestly, despite what problems other people might have (he’s too big/ too old/ it’s just not right, etc.)- I’ve come to realize that it’s THEIR problem, not mine or his.  WE are fine and happy.  It’s still what’s best for him, still beneficial healthwise for me, too, and we’re both happy.  If it’s an inconvenience, it’s MINE.  If it’s too much work, it’s MY WORK.  If it takes too much time, it’s MY TIME.  If he becomes too clingy (research proves otherwise) then he’ll cling to ME.  If he won’t sleep at night, he’s keeping ME up.  So the only person affected is me- so if I’m fine with it, people should keep their comments to themselves.

Actually, I wouldn’t mind questions, concerns, or comments from people if they actually knew anything at all about breastfeeding.  But have you noticed that the people who have never nursed, or nursed for like a month and quit, have the most to say?  People who’ve never done it, never researched it, never been to a LLLI meeting, never read about it have so many reasons why you should stop.  That is so incongruent- it really irritates me.  At least know what you’re talking about if you’re going to launch a campaign against me.  And mind your own boobs’ business, not mine.

(I should add that I have many friends that bottle feed and support me wholeheartedly.  When it comes to feeding her baby, each woman has to choose what’s right for her, and it’s her right to do so.  I respect the right of women who choose differently from me, and I appreciate those women who support me even though our choices may not have been the same.  I’m not referring to those ladies, or ladies like them, in this post.)

Okay, rant over.