Category Archives: motherhood

a moment captured

Foster, Jonah, Katie, memories, motherhood, Parker, Theodore August 8, 2013 Leave a comment
 

It’s not often that I catch a picture of all of my babies smiling these big, genuine smiles. I am not a photographer. The lighting is always wrong and their are weird blurry spots where there should be a child. The background is full of unflattering things no one wants to see, like dirty dishes, filled to the brim trashcans or toys randomly thrown about the yard.

I have a couple of friends who take pictures of my kids because we run in the same circles and I look at their pictures and think “that is the most beautiful child in the world” (not that I’m biased).  You’ve seen some of them, I post them on here and tag them on Facebook.

I always do feel a little proud that somehow my husband and I managed to give birth to these little beauties. Well, I feel proud briefly until I have to break up a screaming fist fight before someone ends up bloody. Then, I realize that pictures only tell so much.

I want to frame the pictures from the professionals. They are classy and elegant.

This picture, the one where all of my children have piled into a cardboard box, is the one I want to memorize.

The one I want to stare at and have the image burned into my brain.

I want to be able to smell the smell of summer and dirt. I want to hear the sound of giggling and laughing and jostling one another. I want to see the sight of Foster’s sense of humor, Katie’s desire to please, Theodore’s sweet spirit, Parker’s adoring look at Daddy and Jonah doing his best to imitate his big brother.

Only my pictures, the ones I took, the moments I felt compelled to pick up my camera and “capture” are the ones that can give me all of that. Imperfect as they may be.

in-between

humor, motherhood, struggles July 27, 2013 1 Comment

Doesn’t it feel good to purge the stuff in your life? I’ve always gotten a thrill out of cleaning out and getting boxes and bags of stuff ready to donate.

Yesterday Chris and I spent a couple of hours going through our closet. He needed to get rid of things that didn’t fit anymore (because he’s lost so much weight) and things that he had been wearing for the past 10 years.

I needed to get rid of the things that didn’t fit anymore (not because I’ve lost weight) and things I wore mostly when I was nursing a baby or were given to me and just aren’t my style.

This part of the process wasn’t very painful.  It was a little depressing realizing I couldn’t keep a skirt or two because I couldn’t get them zipped up around my muffin top but all in all not such a bad experience.

It was the shopping later in the day that was horrid.

I have realized that I am in some strange “in-between” stage of life.

I went to the Juniors section, loving all the cute tops and dresses there. I picked up a dress. I got a large, after all, I’m no junior and knew I should be realistic.

Then I traveled around the endless path of women’s fashion and came to a skirt I really liked. It was in the Women’s section so I got a medium, I found a dress and picked up a large.

At this point, I was getting a little stressed. I could tell I was headed down a bad road because everything I saw seemed like it was something an old lady would wear.

I couldn’t exactly go back to the Junior’s section and try to pull off $90 skinny jeans that had been pre-ripped, faded and torn, either.

I finally had enough to warrant the dreaded trip to the dressing room.

My sweet husband had been following me the whole time, holding a sports bra and nightgown and handful of undies. He finally got a cart so he could troll behind me with my purse and list.

From time to time he had to dodge over-perfumed, white haired women who were on a mission to make the most of this one-day sale.

I went into the dressing room, promising Chris I would show him my selections once I got them on, knowing the poor man didn’t realize what he was asking.

I put on the junior dress, size large and was immediately sickened by the sight of a middle aged mom of 5 trying to look like she was 17. Yikes, it was ugly.

But I kept my word and slinked to the hall of the dressing room where Chris was standing right outside the door. I’m not sure what he said, my self deprecating thoughts drowning it all out.

I returned to the dressing room and had a brief moment of panic as I realized I might not be able to get this stupid dress off without ripping off the sleeves.

This continued with the women’s large which was too big and the dress that showed my 5 kids in 7 years belly.

I was in tears as I came out of the dressing room. I took the hug and encouragement offered by Chris. I tried not to lash out at him and just said “I need to get out of this place.”

And we did, we left the evil world of women’s clothing where a 37 year old gets stuck in the in-between of not young enough, not old enough, not thin enough and not fashionable enough.

We left and went back into our world, where my husband thinks I’m beautiful and my kids adore my squishiness and God reminds me that I am His no matter what I’m wearing.

the woman in the picture

Family, holiday, memories, motherhood May 12, 2013 1 Comment

This will be the first Mother’s Day I have spent without my children since having my first child 9 years ago. I won’t be with my mom today either.

My Grandfather Drew has passed away and I have traveled to California to be present with my dad and my Aunt Eileen.

In our culture, it seems that whenever loved ones die, we find ourselves pouring over old photographs.  This time has been no different.

As I’ve studied the past through small aging images, trying to piece together what life was like for my Grandfather who was born in 1923, I seem to always begin with the woman (or women) in the picture.

It might be different for men, but we women seem to divide ourselves into 2 categories. Those who have (or had) children, and those who have not. This is really a shame.

What I am finally growing to understand, through maturity I suppose, is that the defining aspect of a mother is not the moment she birthed a child.  A woman becomes a mother, when she gives birth, gives life to the part of her that nurtures.

I remember that moment vividly in my life. In my 5th grade class, in my rundown school, there was a hole in the floor around a pipe. As we were sitting in class one day, we start to hear this small, quiet mewing coming from under the floor.

Of course, we were curious. When we were freed from our little wooden desks and allowed to move about the class, several of us rushed to the spot we had been eyeing for what felt like hours (it could have been minutes). As we sat hunched over, peering into the dark hole trying to see if there was really a cat stuck under us.  I sat there saying “here, kitty kitty, here kitty kitty” but we weren’t able to see or hear anything.

It seem to be several days of this, and I grew increasingly anxious that this poor little cat was going to die under our classroom.

One day when only a couple of the girls were peering over the hole (the boys had moved on to bigger and better distractions) we had the idea to try and lure the kitty closer to us with food. I can see us now, on our knees, getting dusty and dirty, using  a few fingers to grasp (slightly as to not crush the puff but with enough pressure we wouldn’t lose our grip on it) an orange cheese puff down between the hole in the tile and the pipe. We dangled and called, dangled and called then all of a sudden this furry paw shoots up and bats at the cheese puff, successfully knocking into the dark, underworld the kitty was stuck in.

From that point on, I determined that I would keep that cat. She needed to be rescued, protected, loved and fed. I was the woman for the job.

After a short time, several instances of defying authority and consequences from my teacher, principal and bus driver. I was riding home with my new cat in  a cardboard box.

That feeling, that need to nurture is what makes a woman a mother.

Some women do have children, but others, many, many others spend their lives nurturing other children, in the mission field or as an aunt. As a nanny or a neighbor. As a teacher or a friend.

Women nurture their animals, their cats and dogs, their horses.

We nurture our own parents as they age and become like little children.

I may not be with my mother today or with my children, but I feel blessed that I get to spend time with another woman in my life who has been a wonderful example of how to nurture others.

mommy fail

homeschooling, humor, Katie, motherhood April 14, 2013 1 Comment

Katie has begun reading more and more on her own. I was excited when she picked up a couple of Scooby Doo books at the library the other day because I knew they would likely challenge her. I feel like Foster really took off after tackling those level readers on his own.

I asked her yesterday if she thought she would be able to take them to bed and read them on her own and she said “sure!” Then today we had this conversation:

Me: “Katie how did you do with the Scooby Doo book?”

Katie: “Well, not very good.”

Me: “Really?” (genuinely surprised)

Katie: “Yeah, they are really hard.”

Me: “Are you just having trouble with certain words?”

Katie: “No, I don’t understand hardly any of the words.”

Me: (finally paying full attention) “What do you mean? What are some of the words?”

Katie: “There are all these 2 letter words that I don’t understand like el and la and se…”

Me: (so confused) “Could you bring the book please?”

Katie: “Sure.” (hands me the book)

…and the book is written in Spanish…

Total mommy fail. This is what happens when I take the preschooler and toddler to the library. I didn’t even notice that she had checked out 2 Spanish Scooby Doo books. I just had to laugh and tell her I was sorry that I am sure she will have an easier time reading the ones written in English.

Good grief.

spaghetti face

Jonah, motherhood, Toddlers April 14, 2013 Leave a comment

I am a brave mommy. I have always let my toddlers feed themselves. No matter how messy. Cereal, oatmeal, spaghetti…bring it on. It gets ugly, but it’s the only way they can learn!

the bodily fluid chronicles

humor, motherhood, parenting March 20, 2013 Leave a comment

You don’t realize until you become a parent how much time, energy and thought will go into your offspring’s bodily fluids.

When you tell people you are pregnant you get congratulatory comments:

“You are SO blessed!”

“It will be the most wonderful thing to happen to you!”

“There is nothing like looking into the face of your sweet newborn!”

And the few derogatory comments:

“Already?”

“Say goodbye to life as you know it.”

“How will you afford it?”

But typically no one conveys to you the dialogue that begins seconds after birth and ends, well, I don’t know when it ends.

Think about it.

The moments after your child is born someone (maybe you if you had a home birth) takes one of those baby sucker things and starts cleaning out all the guck from their mouth and throat.

Shortly after that the discussion turns to meconium. That’s a fancy word for the first poop. They say it is the first poop but actually it’s the first series of poop. And they aren’t really poop at all but black, sticky, tar that you would like to remove with pure acetone from your little lovey’s rear, but instead are shown by a nurse how to use a coarse, warm, wet rag to try and scrape baby’s hiney clean. 

It’s lovely really.

Then they come in with the “breastfeeding diary”. Which is a form they give to new moms who are trying to breastfeed to be sure she has the added pressure of whether or not she’s doing it right.

The one they gave me was so detailed that I was supposed to write the date, the time I started nursing, which boob was getting suckled, how long it was suckled and then how many wet or dirty diapers came after the suckling.

No pressure.

Geez.

What happened to the good ole days when you were plowing the field, birthed in a bucket and then just went back to work. You could just wear baby on your back and then spin him around front to suck his meal until he was full and soiled himself.

Ok, so maybe we don’t have to go that far but really? A written log for bodily functions when your baby is hours old?

And so begins the bodily fluid chronicles.

It’s no wonder mothers have a hard time talking about anything else.

The bodily fluid stats from just my past 24 hours would blow your mind.

My 5 kids, 9 years old and under, have been sick. So, there has been even more attention paid to what is coming out of them.

Please forgive me if you ask how we are and I respond with any of the following:

“Jonah only had 2 bowel movements yesterday and they seemed to be more firm in consistency.”

“Katie’s drainage is still a little green but doesn’t seem as thick as it has been.”

“Theodore had diarrhea 2 times in the middle of the night, it was like he was peeing out his butt, standing up. It was disgusting.”

Instead I will try to spare you and answer with:

“We are all feeling much better.”

free-range parenting

children, choices, growing-up, motherhood, parenting July 4, 2012 1 Comment

Since becoming a parent a little over 8 years ago, I have read numerous articles and books on how to be a successful parent.  My definition of successful parenting is that we don’t screw our kids up so badly that they have to spend years in therapy.

Of course, I also would love for them to dedicate their lives to God and serving others, have happy families of their own, have lucrative, fulfilling careers and a few exciting, rewarding hobbies. But I try to set the bar low, so then if they have any or all of those things in their future, I can be pleasantly surprised. Winking smile

There are some new trends and catch phrases in parenting these days and I recently read this one that has to do with “free-range parenting”.

As I read, I kept thinking that while the idea may seem “new” it’s actually the way parents use to parent.  The main idea behind free-range parenting is you don’t keep your kids under your watchful eye ALL the time. Since we homeschool and I am with my kids 24/7, I try to make a concerted effort to get away from them as much as I can. That sounds pretty bad, but what I mean is that when I send them out to the backyard to play I try to stay out of their play as much as possible.

It isn’t healthy or necessary for me to be correcting every ugly thing they may do to one another as siblings or even to their neighbor friends. Kids do need the time and space to learn about relationships on their own. I have been letting my 8 year old climb a fence to play with our neighbors, who have a pool and a creek and lots of land to roam on, since he was 7 years old. I usually give him a watch and time to be back. He has always been back on time and that has given him a chance to earn my trust. Believe it or not, I have never even seen this neighbors property past their home.  I haven’t driven down the long driveway to check out the pool, the chicken coop, the creek  and the woods.

Are there things that could go wrong when Foster visits the neighbors? Of course, he could wreck his bike (that he mostly rides with no helmet) or he could drown in the pool. But I have to trust that he is making good choices and that God is caring for him. He has been hurt emotionally while out of my sight. But I realize that I can’t protect my kids from every uncomfortable thing in their lives. They have to have some space, so they can learn to navigate life on their own.

To me, free-range parenting doesn’t mean you let your kids run wild and never address negative behaviors, it means you let some of the consequences come naturally. If you punch your friend in the gut, you might get punched back. If you speak hatefully to your sibling, they probably won’t share their treat with you.

I’m not raising little robots who only know how to behave when I am around and controlling the situation. I am raising little people, who have free will and need a chance to exercise it.

What types of freedoms do you give your young children?

Happy Mother’s Day

holiday, motherhood, Toddlers May 13, 2012 Comments: 2

I have one thing I always ask for on Mother’s Day and that is a picture before church with all the kids. This morning it only took 20 tries to get a good one! I love being a mom. Winking smile

All we did was ask Parker to be in the picture and he cried and cried like we had done bodily harm to him. Of course, less than 5 minutes later he was smiling. What an adventure it is to be called “mommy”!

Just give me a minute…

humor, motherhood, Parker, potty-training, Toddlers March 19, 2012 Comments: 6

It’s 10:30 am and I am already feeling like my brain is going to explode. The days stats so far are…

  • Jonah awake (not crying mind you, just hanging out and playing) from 2:30 am – 5:30 am
  • Checked email, ate cereal and slurped coffee for approx. 13 minutes
  • Theodore awake and waking everyone else at 7:30 am
  • Breakfast made, served, cleaned up
  • 3 trips to the potty with Parker
  • 3 changes of underwear for Parker
  • 3 cleaned up messes (carpet, chair, hardwood floor) for Parker
  • Encouraged Ordered Katie to help Parker brush his teeth to avoid a ten-minute screaming meltdown
  • Straightening living room and my bedroom
  • Nursed Jonah 3 times while sitting on my back’s best friend (the ice pack)
  • Got Jonah down for a nap by 10 am
  • Helped Katie with Grammar and Time
  • Helped Theodore with pre-school sheets
  • Helped Foster with Time and Grammar
  • Broke up a fight between Parker and Theodore then Foster and Katie then Foster and Theodore
  • Told Foster I would pay him 5 cents a book for every book he read while Parker sits on the potty
  • Showed Foster how to keep up with his book total using tally marks (math lesson anyone?)

And then my stomach was growling and I could tell I was about to…so I made a bacon and cheese omelet, cranberry juice and sent everyone outside.  I know Parker is outside doing his #2 business in his underwear, but I’ll just get a cup of coffee first…

How do you avoid mommy meltdowns?

Monday Memory

blessings, children, Family, memories, motherhood February 21, 2012 Leave a comment

This picture is of my Mamaw, my mom and I at Cracker Barrel in May of 2003.  I found out shortly after this Mother’s Day that I would be a mother, too. 

This past 5 days all of my kids (except Jonah), myself, Chris and my mom (who was here visiting) suffered from a terrible stomach virus.  Thankfully, the grown-ups were sick at different times. When we had recovered enough to have a conversation this morning, we talked about how no matter how old you are, you want your mom when you’re sick.  My mom’s mom is 82 years old now and she still takes care of mom when she can.  My mom takes care of me and my kids.  And, now I take care of my children. 

I am blessed to have this.  My mother and grandmother.  Chris doesn’t have his mother anymore and he feels it acutely when he’s sick or struggling with certain things.