Just Writing about my boys

They never tell you how exhausting mothering is... How seldom you have a moment to catch your breath, to gear up for the next thing. They don't tell you that once labor is over, once you've pushed them out of your body, that's when the work really starts.

Everything in life works in cycles... Only life itself is linear. And even death is only the outer ring of the next thing and then we go Deeper In. But those cycles, they start to feel like crazy sometimes. Like that game we played in the yard as kids where you spin and spin and spin till you fall down and close your eyes and the world spins around you in the darkness of your eyes squeezed shut.

In my mothering right now, in the cycle of mothering, one of my children is in a dark spot. I know we'll pass through, move on, but he's barely back out into the light before the next child is in the dark, in out day in day out. Barely catching my breath as I go from one to the other. My heart is on her knees, since I can't stop spinning long enough to get my body there, and the Spirit, I trust, interceeds.

And then like a drop falling into my whirlpool, comes a moment like this. And I can stop, mid-spin, and look and breathe and pray-- mind, body and heart. In this moment, this drop turns the cycles to ripples of Grace and I can dance in my spinning for a just long enough moment to keep me upright.






















check out the other bloggers just writing with Heather...

Just Writing

When you lose something very dear to you-- a person, an idea, a place, an experience, a faith-- it leaves behind (even after "healing) a narrow, deep chasm that you occasionally fall back into. There's no predicting what might precipitate this. A song, a smell, and turn of phrase, an email, a glimpse of someone you think you know in a crowded mall.... Perhaps even simply a quiet evening where your mind, free for the moment from more pressing and immediate concerns, turns a little aside from the daily routines and begins to wander down unfamiliar paths. And then suddenly you find yourself back There. And you feel the ground drop from under your feet and the memories, despair, disappointment come crowding back and the security of daily life and comforts seems hollow, false. And there you are, fingertips clutching at the brink, James Bond-esque.

You might just hang there for a moment, fingers scrabbling at the edge for the solid ground you know was there just a moment ago. You might breathe deeply, smelling the familiar smells of bed and home. You might slowly get a hand, then an elbow-- one, then the other-- up onto your church, your friends, your husband, your beautiful children, the things you still have-- the More, the Now. Now you're on your hands and knees, looking back. Danger passed. You stand up, shake yourself off, square your shoulders, smile, call someone, write an email or a blog post and on you go.

By God's Grace.
Finish the race.







check out the other bloggers just writing with Heather...

Just Writing

One of the things I've grown to love about Florida is the way the boundaries between outdoors and indoors are blurry, optional, indistinct and reversible. Occassionally we have a day whose chill requires closed doors and latched windows, but for the most part we are open to the sunshine, breeze and the fresh smell of dirt and rain.

Judah is watching a Netflix cartoon version of The Three Musketeers. The sight and sound of a furry green D'Artagnan break dancing with the other musketeers is giving me a stomach ache. I think we're going to have to outlaw this one, despite Judah's love of the sword-fighting scenes.

And, just like that, my time for blogging is past. D'Artagnan has danced right off the screen and now Judah needs me for school and other mommy things.

Perhaps next week I"ll have more time to Just Write...

Just Write

There are marker and pen and scuff marks all over my walls... 

Should I wash them off? Is it worth the time when I know they'll be back on again by the end of the day? Are they some sort of badge of honor for Motherhood (with a capital 'M')? Or just evidence of semi-lazy motherhood (small 'm')?

"Mama, I want a cough drop!" 

Does he really need one? Is all that coughing real or put on to coax out of an un-suspicious mama what my children consider to be just-as-good-as-candy? How much coughing is evidence of a real need for a cough drop? Is this one of those moments to just give in?


"Na?? Mama? Na??" 

Is he really hungry and wanting a snack? Or is he just wanting my attention? If I put cheerioes on the chair instead of picking him up and reading to him, does that make me a bad mom? If he throws all the cheerioes on the floor and I pick them up and put them right on the edge of the table where he loves to grab things, will that buy me another five minutes?

"Mama! I can't do FORTY-EIGHT math problems in ONE DAY!" 

I know she can, but should she have to? Is it too much? Is she getting enough time to just be a kid? Is that even important? Is she learning patience, endurance, wisdom along with her reading, writing and math?


Questions, uncertainties, wonderings swirl around in my head in the midst of all the daily run-around. My mind is on a merry-go-round, a tilt-a-whirl-- the juggler spinning plates on poles.

But what I'm really asking is, can I do this? Am I adequate? Is this working? Will they be ok? Do they know I love them? How can I protect them? Prepare them? What do I do now? How did I get here?

By the Grace of God 

...answers all my questions.

Where I'm From

(apparently I have a problem with commitment when it comes to blog memes. i loved this one right away when i first saw it, but it's taken me months to finally finish it. i love it because it's the kind of thing one can write again and again and it nevers comes out the same way twice. this version tends to weigh heavily on the southern part of my "roots". maybe i'll do another one focusing on my yankee family another day...)


I am from long-handled ice tea spoons, 
From Aqua Net, Cover Girl and Vicks Vapor Rub. 
I am from white-columned front porches, the shady refuge at the end of a sun-baked, flesh-sizzling slate walk.


I am from the dogwood tree, 
The purple iris, 
The towering boxwood  
(all shot through with wisteria, the purple-scented parasite)


I am from music lessons, arguments, apologies and sharing. 
From Fetters and Wilkinses and Olivers-- the long-livers and hard-workers and fast-talkers. 
We raise-our-hand, do-unto-others, work-first-play-later 
and respect-our-elders.


I'm from Sabbath rests, hymn-singing, and posters of sad African children, reminding me of how much I have and the importance of sharing a cup of cold water to drink.


I'm from the Old Dominion, The Mother of Presidents, and I can whistle Dixie in my sleep. I eat my greens with bacon, my grits are extra buttery and my biscuits light-as-a-feather.


I'm from the snapping turtle that missed daddy's toe, 
The time we didn't run away from home 
And brothers who weren't lost in the cornfield after all.


I am from a bent wire tree covered with amethysts,
From the finger-worn neck of a long-loved fiddle, 
From the whispering scent of Jean Naté and a marbled notebook stacked on a well-worn Bible. 

You gift-givers wove all my life around with music and beautiful words. 

I am from all of you.

Just Write

I've been trying to pull together a post all day. In between the Christmas Take-Down, the children squabbles, the cleaning, the cooking and trying to find time to play, laugh and train. Every time there's a pause in the motion and commotion, my brain starts chugging along...

"Jamie is such a passionate child. In the moment of submission to discipline, he will throw himself into my arms with tempestuous wails, bury his little face deep into my neck and cling to me, fingers clutching my shirt in a desperate grip, writhing in the agonies of thwarted will..."

But before I can make it to the laptop, something breaks, or falls over, or spills, or someone yells, or trespasses, or cries... And the idea must be shelved in the library of my memory, perhaps at some point brought out, dusted off and wrestled into a full-length post...

"Fire is so much more than warmth. The gods gave fire to man for protection and safety, light, a sense of belonging and peace, romance and familial love. Home and Hearth. Men have been fighting for it, living for it, longing for it for millennium. A fireplace is worth the space and trouble. Even in Florida."

Crash, splash, yell..........file it away again....


For so much of my life I've defined my self by my memories, my past, my family. And now suddenly I find all that stripped away and I've landed here in a foreign land far away from all that has defined me for so long. I have of necessity had scramble to find ways to define myself by other things. And I've not yet refined that process, haven't yet figured out the New Me. Who is this Florida Resident? I don't know her well yet...


This is why I love the Just Write meme. It gives me a place to file away these fragments where they won't fade away with memories, their place taken by more pressing daily matters. Heather has given busy moms like me a place to lay down the remaining pieces of our creativity for the moment in a safe place, to pick them up again, someday, hopefully, when all the noise has ceased and the uneasy peace of an empty house shadows the corners of our days.

Just Writing

swish-swoosh.  the bright blue velvety swath floats down onto the floor. 

whooosh, smooth out all the creases, ease the seams into line

zzzzsnip, zzzsnip the sharp blades even up the ragged edges of the hem. 

snap out the brocade, the sparkly gold threads woven into a story of flowers and leaves, pink, purple, green and gold wandering up and down the turquoise field. Match the edges up again and draw the cutting line-- pen marks dash-dash-dash along the curving arc, the elegant sweep of a train. 





I'm making Sofi a dress. A medieval gown to wear on her field trip on Friday. As I finger the satins, the brocades and faux furs, the beading and cording and gold chain, I sense the excitement of the urge to create Beauty. To take all this treasure, swirl it around in my magic chamber and pull out a dress of such craft that when she puts it on, she will be transformed into a Lady.


 I've done this so many times before, and I never get tired of it.



My grandfather taught my mother to sew in his upholstery shop when she was a child. She worked for him in the summers sometimes. In college, she made costumes for the drama department (her drama department). When I was eight, she helped me make my first dress. It was green with little white flowers on it. I put it on and I felt pretty. And grown-up. And I also felt that first stirring of the joy of using my own hands to create something beautiful. That is a significant feeling for an eight-year-old.


My mother taught me to sew, one of the many wonderful gifts she gave me. She taught me to make dresses and slack and blouses and hats and baby clothes and towels and table cloths. But. She also taught my sisters and me to make Costumes. She taught us how to take a drawing, the beginnings of a dream of an evening of beauty and joy, and turn it into a reality. She took us to the fabric shop and we bought satins, brocades and faux furs, beading and cording and gold chain, feathers and pearls and diamonds. We took them home to our magic chamber, swirled them around and pulled out dress after dress after dress of such craft that when we put them on, we were transformed....

 

OH! It was such FUN!





 

linking up with Heather, from The Extraordinary Ordinary, for this week's Just Write.

The Real Thing

I'm sitting here trying to wrap up an emotional, moving post I started last night about how thankful I am for my beautiful children and how our years of infertility have intensified my appreciation of the small things (like Jamie and Judah wrestling on the floor in the before-breakfast mornings), but Jamie is circling my feet, whining and screeching. He wants my oatmeal; I'm blogging while I eat breakfast because multi-tasking: it's a mommy's best friend. Also, because I feel less guilty about writing when the boys want me if I'm also eating-- which, you know, is one of those necessary luxuries to which I treat myself. Occasionally.

So. Emotional post, wrapping up, Jamie screeching for oatmeal. I pick him up to my lap, desperately pecking the keyboard with one hand while I try to fend him off my oatmeal with the other. Disatisfied with my continued lack of attention to him, he pitches his binky right. into. my. coffee.

*sigh*

The emotional, moving post about how much I love my children is filed in the drafts folder to finish "Later" so I can go clean up my coffee and actually Love My Children. Right now I'm writing while locked in the bathroom (one of the few doors Jamie hasn't figured out how to open yet) and the boys are taking turns banging on the door and screeching (Jamie) and complaining about a bumped head (Judah), and my back is starting to hurt from bending over the counter at an awkward angle to type.

And so another day begins.





I'm linking up for another morning of "Just Write" with Heather at the EO.

Just Writing

Some mornings I feel like I would sell my soul for another hour of sleep. But the children always wake with boundless energy and they drag my weary soul, reluctantly, grouchily, out into the light of their wide-eyed love for life. There is no defense against the joy of two boys playing with a plastic walrus in the shower. Their bow-legged, sway-backed, pot-bellied selves make me smile through the haze of a 5:00 wake-up call. They have only one volume setting and it's Last Trumpet loud

Jamie is learning animal sounds, but right now everything growls. Lions, dogs, kitties, pigs, walruses...

"Bwaaargggrrrrrr!"

He also eats soap.

And now we've run out of hot water and so my precious few minutes to blog and think and re-group and try to catch up with my life is done. My main goal is to feed, clothe, protect and love. Anything else I get done is a bonus.







We're doing good! it's my third week linking in with The Extraordinary Ordinary and Heather's Just Write project.

Just Writing

When I first started this blog, way back when, my life seemed small and manageable. I was busy, sure, but busy with small things. Busy with one child and one infant, busy with a small house and a postage stamp yard, busy with a few good friends and family only a few hours away. Our life was quiet, orderly, predictable, malleable.

I must admit the possibility that at the time it did not feel this way, it's perhaps just the looking back that makes it seem so.

Back then I had time to write. I wrote, I read, I commented. I also crafted, baked, gardened, taught, babysat and other things.

Today, I feel like my life has gotten BIGBIG. There's a pre-teen, a child and a toddler in my house now. They are busy. They are loud. They each have a life of their own. There are five lives in my house now. My big house, my big yard, my big van. Our trees are big, too-- and now there are four trees, instead of two. And then there's a pool...

Even our city is big. Our friends are here, there, across-over-there and our family is farfar away.

I feel a bit stretched out. A bit thin.

"Like butter spread over too much bread."

Now all my time is taken up in just being. Getting from here to there. Feed, clean up. Feed, clean up. Laundry.

I miss blogging. It was my chance to make a little mark on the world. Something that would still be here, just like this, in the morning. Not used up, not dirty-again-already, not eaten. I need that back again.







Linking up with The EO for Just Write again.

My Favorite Things (for right now and in no particular order)

I didn't jump into this meme right away, because I always have a hard time thinking of my favorite things. I have too many. And the list changes all the time depending on my current obsession... But I've seen a couple lists lately that inspired me, so here's mine, (for now...)

My husband, who, after nearly nine years of marriage, still writes me love notes

Valentine's Day, because despite all the hype and commercialism, it reminds me...

Old, old, falling down houses with beautiful bones and an air of graciousness and patience

My children, still playing peacefully together after two weeks of Snow Days

Wood stoves

Wood floors

Vacuum cleaners

built-in bookcases and wainscoting

a lime in my water bottle

Eight o'clock wake up times for children and a half-hour with the Lord to start my day

My husband, who still (after nearly nine years of marriage) surprises me with wine and chocolate on a fairly regular basis

Pink-- fuschia, actually. Despite my age and size, unfortunately.

Jazz vocalists. Not the real jazz, the "lite" stuff-- for non-fanatics. Such as Buble, Sting, Connick, Jr. and such as those. Perhaps "lounge music" would be a better term?

Paying five dollars for something and selling it for ten. It's the German in me. What can I say?

Finding cool music on Youtube.

Stripes.

Blue and yellow. Or blue and white. Especially blue and white kitchens.

My (finally finished!) blue and white kitchen.

Toille. Especially blue and yellow toille.

Bird-printed fabrics. Birds in general.

Teacups. Tiny spoons. A tea table laid with mis-matched tea cups and saucers, tiny spoons and lump sugar.

Going to bed early with a good book. Currently, Elizabeth George.

All detective fiction. Especially British detective fiction.

Blogging.

Gardening. Flowers and veggies, both. Feeling dirt in my hands and watching seeds turn into food and beauty.

Seven VERY quick takes (hurry, hurry! gotta get moving before the kids wake up!)

1. Wow. Breathe. Gulp coffee. Pray the kids sleep a little longer so I can tend to my poor, neglected blog.

2. The last two weeks since getting home from our trip have been a whirlwind. I've felt rushed and stressed every. single. day. Our house is a wreck, I have bulbs that I paid real money for sitting and slowly dying on my kitchen counter, there are babies due any day now that will enter the world smocking-less, because all my patterns and plans have remained in my head and not on the fabric. My ironing pile defies description and the extent of our school fora week has been a math page each day and about fifteen minutes of Latin. I just cannot seem to get my head above water!

3. I've also discovered that I was kidding myself about Facebook. You really cannot have your Facebook and blog it, too. It's one or the other for me, baby, so Facebook? You are dead to me. I will no longer allow myself to heed your siren call of clever updates, amusing banter about spelling mistakes, hourly updates on what the Pregnant Woman is eating today and which political causes who supports.

4. As stressed out as I am, my thoughts are with a certain bride this week, whom, I imagine, is waaay more stressed out than I am. *silently hands bride a glass of wine and pats her on the back* Once this wedding is done (as fun as it will be) I think my life will (maaaaybe) relax back to it's low-pitched hum.

5. There's a slight possibility that I may (maybe) be watching just a wee tad bit too much Project Runway. Yesterday I had to "whip up" a Queen Esther costume for Sofi to wear to Co-op. The first time I tried it on her things did not go well and I heard myself say to my seven-year-old, "That's just a big, hot mess!"
"What's a big, hot mess mean, Mamma?"

Mmmm, yeeeeah. Let me get back to you on that one, sweetie.

6. It is very, very hard to run these days as the shorter days mean I cannot go after J gets home from work at 6. Anyone have suggestions on how to run with a seven-year-old and a two-year-old? A double stroller really isn't going to cut it for me... I tried having her bike, but she's too unsteady and needs too much help from me, so I end up running half the time and scooping her back up onto the bike the other half the time. It's crazy.

7. I had so much trouble with my Photobucket account while on our trip that I've been considering switching to Flikr, instead. Any thoughts from my other bloggy people?



Thanks to Jen at Conversion Diaries for hosting! Check out all the other Quick Takes....

Trying Something New

I've had my eye on these great meme over at Conversion Diary for quite some time. It seems like a great way to squeeze in a quick "catch up" post right before the weekend. And since Jen promises that there's "something up" this week, I decided it would be a good week to go ahead and take the plunge. So here we go! My first Seven Quick Takes Friday!

1) The day I finally start to get caught up on the yardwork, it begins to pour (and I mean really pour, folks) riiiiight as the kids go down for nap. Effectually ending whatever productivity potential I had up to that point.

2) To finalize any doubts about our mystery trip, yes! we are flying out to Fort Lewis to drive S and V home. That's right, ladies and gents, I have finally taken complete and utter leave of my sense and participated in-- nay, even initiated!-- the planning of a cross-country road trip with two toddlers, a six-year-old and NO HUSBANDS!!! But it'll be fun, right? Of course right!

3) I am wiiide open for any advice about surviving said trip with two toddlers, a six-year-old and no husbands. And did I mention we'll be hauling a U-Haul trailer behind us the whole way? And attempting to camp nightly? Possibly at least once or twice in Yellowstone National Park? Where there are BEARS???

4) In leiu of flowers, please direct your expressions of sympathy towards the support of a worthy cause...

5) Thanks to a blogging mom of many boys, I may have solved a parenting problem that has plagued me for nearly a year. I feel fairly confident to say that we have solved the mystery of Judah's morning meltdowns! It's too long a story for this post, so I'll be posting the saga tomorrow morning, bright and early. Stay tuned!

6) Have I mentioned that my brother is getting married to this lovely woman in two and a half weeks? Whoo-eeee! We are busy around here :)

7) It stopped raining! Hooray! Now we can all go out and do stuff :) Although I should probably take a shower first...

That was fun! You want to try? Go sign up and read everyone else's Seven Quick Takes!

Tot Talk Tuesday

It's that time again! Head over to Niecey's blog to find more stories of kids saying the darndest things :) including one veeery choice poopy story!



While reading Dr Seuss's ABCs to Judah this week we got hung up on this page:



Specifically on this part:




Mommy, whatsa matter ah heeem??

I think he's scratching, he's itchy

No....... He's maaaad.

No honey, he's not mad, he's just itchy.

No! He's mad!

Why is he mad?

*long pause*

'Cause, cause....the hungeee howus eated his haaair!

*pause*

"Siyyeee howus" (silly horse)


See? That hay does look exactly like Ichabod's hair. The kid is a genius!

Tot Talk Tuesday

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Judah, on ice cream:

"Mama, pease Ah havinuver bite in mah mouf?"


Judah, on fish, pork and beef;

"Pease Ah have some more chickin?"


I'm with Niecey, I gotta get a notebook, this stuff just doesn't stick in my head! But for now I'm gonna go check out all the other cute stuff kids are saying!

Tot Talk Tuesdays

Won't you join us? I know you're kids aren't as cute as mine, but they're still pretty cute! Right?? ;) Click on the link above to join!

I can't remember if I posted this story before, but one of my favorite "oops!" moments with a newly talking child was when Sofi was about two. One day in the shoe store, late for naps and reaching the verge of a breakdown, we were trying on some new sandals in an aisle next to a young man and his pregnant wife. As he bent down to help her on with her shoes, he shared with us a little more of his, uh, personality, shall we say? than I might liked to have seen. I turned away, embarrassment for him turning to horror as I glimpsed the look of fascination on Sofi's face as she stared at the chasm revealed to view. I frantically gathered packages, purse, extra shoes and curious toddler into my arms and rushed for the safetly of the next aisle over as I heard her shrill voice pipe out at full, incredulous volume,

"Mama! That man's butt's peekin' out!!"

*sigh*



You can click on the label "Soficisms" in my label cloud to the right there, or subscribe to my blog with the "Follow" button if you want to read more stories of Sofi's adventures in articulation :)

I Heart Faces: Sepia

Lil is this week's model. She and the boys were playing with the water hose and I just couldn't resist taking about 60-odd shots. Here's my fav of her :) I used CoffeeShop Action Raspberry Tea to convert to this cool pink-tinged sepia. Love it! What's your favorite CoffeeShop Action for Sepia Tones? Oh yeah, then I added a bit of a vingette using my free trail of Alien Skin Bokeh program.




Thanks for stopping by! I love new followers, if you like what you see :)

Soficism #(something)

Click here to join in


Hooray for Nicey's new meme! I'm reposting from August last year, because I forgot to write anything down that anybody said today or this past week :) Better luck next week. I'm looking forward to meeting lots of fun new bloggy friends. Follow me and I'll follow you! Click on the button in my sidebar....

A friend of ours recently returned from a trip abroad and brought Sofi a coin purse made from a turtle shell. This morning's conversation about said purse:

"That sure is a cool purse Mr Frank bought you..."

"Why do you think so?"

(who said they grow out of the "why" stage? not happening so far. today she asked me why is this the fastest way to Big Lots. well, it just is...)

"Well, (hem, haw, stutter) I just think it's cool that it's made out of a real turtle shell."

"I don't think that's cool."

"Why not?" (payback!)

"Well, if I was a turtle, I would not want to be killed to make into a purse. (long pause) If I was already dead, I don't think I would mind, but I would not want to be killed for it."

WFMW: Yoga with Mama

Here's another thing we like to do on Rainy Days! Exercise inside with Netflix Watch It Now's Ten Minute Solutions: Yoga. Nope, this is not a paid advertisement, but seriously, can you tell why I love it? What other way do you know to get a good workout with two kids on a rainy day?

From 4-6-09

From 4-6-09

I plan to blog more about Netflix and this video in particular. It's a new staple in my workout routine. (Yes, I have a workout routine, what do you mean by that??) Stay Tuned!

Go here to check out other things that work for other moms!