truths
February 24, 2011 § Leave a comment
I woke up today very conscious of two simple truths. First, other people’s opinions should not be the standard by which I judge my own accomplishments. More importantly, my children are not my accomplishments. There are a multitude of other truths, but these two were palpable in the early morning hours and I needed to create a space in which to better see them.
Even in adulthood I often pause and look to someone I trust to critique what I know. When their opinion validates my own, I feel a sense of accomplishment. On the occasion I find myself caught in disagreement, insecurity casts doubt. Right or wrong, so much of my own peace and joy rest outside my mind and heart.
My children bless me with countless moments of joy, intermittent with doubt. Am I doing my best? Could I have done something else, made a different decision? Are my children handicapped for my hindsight? I am learning that so many of their strengths and challenges are their own and my role as their mother is not to fix their world. Each accomplishment is their own, just as each challenge must be met with their determination not the momentum of my ability. I am trying to celebrate their stumbles as lessons and their success as part of their greater story. I am learning complexity offers a richness that builds confidence as much as character.
These words are my release; an effort to lay my early morning thoughts in an open space. Motherhood and friendship have given me a unique love that nurtures these moments of reflection. I am trying to own my challenges, find balance, and embrace joy.
undone
February 23, 2011 § 1 Comment
Later and Soon are the resting places of my good intentions. Goals and projects pile-up haphazardly in the space of wasted time. As my thoughts scatter, so do my intentions and soon my momentum is muddled.
I often sweep evidence of failure into the recesses of my mind. Inconsistency is my shadow. So, today I will begin with honesty and acknowledgment. I will embrace this challenge that is embedded in my habits and nurture small changes; relying less on momentum and more on the strength of my will.
in bloom
February 22, 2011 § 1 Comment
Anticipation woke me early the day of my wedding. Restless, sitting stifled in my hotel room, I slipped out for a brief walk in the company of my bridesmaids. With no particular route in mind we wandered the quaint downtown storefronts near the hotel. I paused briefly at a local florist to purchase a simple bundle of apricot colored tulips that brought sunlight and spontaneity into my cream-colored wedding suite. Every February I welcome these early bursts of sunshine into my kitchen and celebrate the beauty of friendship and love gathered into a bouquet of memories from a sentimental day.
beached
February 20, 2011 § Leave a comment
As Winter and Spring argue over cold, damp skies my mind drifts to warmer days. I imagine digging my toes deeply into warm sand, then wiggling them free. Sunlight bounces jovially over brilliant, blue water lapping playfully at my children’s legs; their hands greedily tickling the wet sand beneath the surf, teasing free tiny treasures. Ever present is the warmth of the sun, erasing my mind of practical thought. I will shelter in my daydream until the sun washes away the gray.
less is more
February 16, 2011 § Leave a comment
I confess, I bought into glossy magazine images and clever advertising campaigns bearing false promises of happiness. Wish list items earmarked for special days, gifts for my children, were wrapped in anticipation of frantic hugs and declarations of love. A wish fulfilled gave an illusion of happiness. Suspended between perpetual anticipation and celebration, it took me a while to recognize disappointment beneath this exchange. The wish list items were quickly forgotten and momentary joy faded into new expectations.
When I stopped participating in this familiar pattern, my perspective became clearer and I saw my children more fully. My son finds joy using familiar tools in new ways. My daughter similarly seeks out creative expression with eclectic pieces of broken toys and art tools. Imagination is their greatest resource and their own standard of creativity priceless against the backdrop of mass-produced, commercial standards.
I must acknowledge there are pieces of technology, tools, and toys that spark new challenges and inspire unexplored story lines for imaginative play. These items I have begun to identify more clearly as items to anticipate, stretching out the wish to encompass the larger concept of earning; instant gratification replaced with an investment of effort that lends accomplishment to attainment. Sometimes it is better to want than to receive.
Wishing something bigger for my children than singular moments of temporary joy I am embracing the beauty of a dream. I am celebrating effort as empowering and nurturing independent definitions of happiness, my own joy unfolding as my children discover the lessons behind my efforts.
trolls
February 15, 2011 § Leave a comment
My daughter woke early this morning, fearful of mischievous trolls lurking in the dark corners of her room. The dream clouding her reality she snuggled into me and began challenging her fear with questions. I wrapped my arms around her sleepy form and listened to my husband meet her doubts with concrete answers.
I have trolls too; horrible, irrational fears. Why hadn’t I thought to stand in a place of love and support where I could safely question the reality of my trolls? Instead I throw the covers over my head and hold my fear bottled, its weight heavy inside my heart.
There is no great revelation or endearing anecdote, just the simple acknowledgment in the early morning hours that sometimes you need only a safe place to challenge your fears.
valentines
February 14, 2011 § Leave a comment
For as long as I can remember Valentine’s Day has cast a sentimental spell that clouds the logical spaces of my mind. Each year I hold my breath with an anticipation I would vehemently deny in person. Somewhere in my heart the little girl who believed in fairy tales and expended summer days in the shade of a novel wraps this day in heartstrings.
Today, I rearranged my romantic notions and replaced expectations with effort. I tucked construction paper hearts into my children’s lunch boxes as colorful reminders of their importance to me. I carved out a quiet moment in the morning for my husband and I to indulge in a special breakfast after taking our children to school together; togetherness holding the same fulfillment as an elaborate gift. I substituted the sweetness of kindness for rich pastries or truffles.
Without another wish, I let go of whimsical fantasies and embraced the beautiful moments and bountiful blessings of my day free of expectations.
real-time
February 13, 2011 § Leave a comment
Texting, e-mails, and posts keep me connected, but there is a subtle disconnect between keystrokes. I seek balance with moments of companionship interwoven into my daily routine.
Standing outside my children’s school I slip into fragmented exchanges with other mothers; brief encounters connecting me to the humor and wisdom of women living parallel lives. As mothers we nurture one another and celebrate one another’s children.
I shop local stores crossing paths with familiar faces behind the counters. Cupcakes from a downtown bakery and clothing from a corner boutique are chosen for children the store owners know from stories shared over seasons of sales.
My favorite are the lucky pennies in my path. These are the friends and acquaintances with whom I share a unique experience but lack common routines. I find them unexpectedly, randomly strewn across my days, and they bring me the good fortune of filling the tiny space between the last time we met and the present.
I unplug and reconnect.
playtime
February 12, 2011 § Leave a comment
Unstructured pleasure, the promise of creative expression. Play-Doh and paint; Legos and Barbie; costumes and science experiments litter my house. I stuff the evidence in cabinets, closets, and boxes, but they tumble free each day after school completely taking over my weekends. These are the trappings of my children’s playtime.
I wonder when we first pack up our crayons and stow them away, too big to color outside the lines. In restless moments my fingers itch with a need to create something new. I call it dallying, this grown-up play; something smaller than a hobby and more fun for the spontaneous endeavor.
The crayons and paints of my childhood have turned into unfinished scrapbooks; Play-Doh has been replaced with unexamined recipes. I enlist my children as culinary cohorts and we stumble through a new recipe; stretching the tools and ingredients across the kitchen island we tinker together. Some days I embrace a new recipe as an afterschool surprise, gifting my moment of frivolous fun.
Scrapbooking I leave unfinished, my pleasure is in the process. I purchase beautiful paper and embellishments with the same enthusiasm as my daughter selecting costume accessories. My friends and I gather like children on a playground and settle into paper play. I set down my work and absorb the directionless chatter, happy for the company.
I welcome these interruptions to my routine, then carefully pack away my toys.
date night
February 11, 2011 § Leave a comment
Calendars cluttered with commitments, time with my husband hinges on two little words. Date nights are no longer exaggerated gestures of courtship, but pockets of time filled with gratitude. An indulgent meal or popcorn at a movie; an opportunity to address a concern or a moment of quiet distraction weightless in frivolity are really happy excuses in disguise.
Some plans are better for pleasant accidents. En route to a movie one evening, my husband and I detoured to a nearby store to explore their selection of area rugs. Our home seemed to echo with a cacophony of noise and lacked the warmth of patchwork interruptions underfoot. The task of making a decision together transformed a simple furnishing into a tiny remembrance of a moment shared. We returned home early from our date eager to unroll our purchase and settle the space. A beautiful night, completely unintended.
Anniversaries suggest an occasion for something extraordinary, but our 10th anniversary was exceptionally average. Dressed in casual attire we settled into a booth at a restaurant bar. We toasted over featured cocktails and indulged in favorite foods with little care for the world outside our table. Afterwards we drove with no destination in mind; tired, but happy to be alone with our shared thoughts.
Once in a while, everything goes according to plan. My husband had developed an interest in tea that created an opportunity for me to acknowledge something important to him. I scheduled an evening cup of tea and reflexology treatment for two. Sitting in the sanctuary I smiled at the sound a soothing waterfall punctuated by my husband’s happy snores.
Date nights are touchstones of togetherness, but more importantly they are opportunities to gather strength and celebrate the passage of time.
