It has taken me some time to realize a gift that I have been given. It didn't seem that way at first, to me.
Someone "gave" me friendship a few months ago. Gave me wonderful things, said wonderful things, wrote wonderful things. They seemed wonderful to me, anyway, better than what I thought I had in front of me.
But in reality, I was given a greater gift. That person's inability to be in my life opened up so many better things from the ones who already are. It allowed me to see the things and people I had for what and who they truly are. When one door closes another one opens up, right?
I was given my gift of writing back. And, oh, how I have written. Journaling, poetry. I am never at a loss for something to write when I sit down and put pen to paper, fingers to keyboard.
I was given the chance to talk with my husband about what we truly needed. And we were given the chance to give each other those needs. While our marriage is indeed different, it is now at a different level. Higher, richer, more meaningful, more loving. What marriage should be.
My friendships are stronger, healthier, more real. I know who I can trust, and who I cannot. I know that there is bad in the world, but there is also good. There are those who can love you for who you are, and forgive your faults, and love you more because of them.
There is a part of me that will always be missing because of the door that has closed. A part of me that I will always wonder about. I have the chance to realize things that I need to do, for me, to make me better and happier with who I am and for those I care about. I've made decisions for my future, things that I need to do for me. There are more parts of me, better parts of me, that are eager for the open doors in front of me.
Thank you for the gift of closed and opened doors.
Saturday, May 29
Wednesday, May 26
Classroom Mom
Wednesday mornings I visit my oldest's first grade classroom, to read with the children, be a mother's helper. Do whatever I can to help the teacher. I love having this opportunity. My daughter loves to have me in the classroom, and is so proud. I think she even tries to work better when I am there! And I know the teacher really needs my help. They all do.
Today she gave me a task that I have not yet done before. A bulletin board. Ugh. Something crafty.
I hate crafts.
Really, I do. I do not have the patience to sit and cut little whatevers to fit into the spots they are designed for. Forget scrapbooking. That's why God made photo albums with already made sleeves. Knitting? Needlepoint? Too stressful for me. I get too agitated. About all I can really tolerate is crayon-coloring (something we do a lot of). Now THAT is cathardic.
I didn't get as far as the teacher wanted me to, I'm sure. I was too fastidious with how the background paper lined up with the edges, and how to get the least amount of staples into the board, making sure to leave enough non-stapled space for the other stuff she needs to put up!
I wonder if my task next week will be to finish the board, or if the teacher, or some other more crafty parent helper, will have redone it? Maybe I'll sneak back there tomorrow to check.
Today she gave me a task that I have not yet done before. A bulletin board. Ugh. Something crafty.
I hate crafts.
Really, I do. I do not have the patience to sit and cut little whatevers to fit into the spots they are designed for. Forget scrapbooking. That's why God made photo albums with already made sleeves. Knitting? Needlepoint? Too stressful for me. I get too agitated. About all I can really tolerate is crayon-coloring (something we do a lot of). Now THAT is cathardic.
I didn't get as far as the teacher wanted me to, I'm sure. I was too fastidious with how the background paper lined up with the edges, and how to get the least amount of staples into the board, making sure to leave enough non-stapled space for the other stuff she needs to put up!
I wonder if my task next week will be to finish the board, or if the teacher, or some other more crafty parent helper, will have redone it? Maybe I'll sneak back there tomorrow to check.
Thursday, May 20
Lucky Mom
May is always a busy month for us. Ballet recitals, Balls, birthdays, graduation... the month seems to fly by. That's why I haven't had an opportunity yet to talk about my wonderful Mother's Day weekend. The whole weekend.
On Friday, I was lucky to spend time with my oldest and her ballet class, preparing for their amazing recital. One mom and seven girls. Sunday we enjoyed the show as only our big family could. But the show was magical, as my now 5 year old said. And who would have known that during this little ballet recital, I would have come upon a song that would move me as much as this one?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5IqCfxgKZd8
It has become my theme song. My reasons, my explanations for the last 8 months of my life, the hurt, the good, the bad, the people who have come in and made a mess and left. The friends who aren't at all what I thought they would be. I had a hard time picking myself up off the floor after hearing it. Still do. It's become the most played song on my iPod.
Saturday I spent a wonderful day with my family, traveling around the northwest corner of the state we live in. Enjoying the scenery, the time with each other. We shopped in little boutiques. Dined in a fancy restaurant. Drove. Laughed. Smiled.
At one point we were shopping in a kitchy little store. My three girls entertained themselves with books from the store, and hunkered down in the sloped-ceilinged dressing room. I heard giggles from behind the curtain, and saw six little feet sticking out from under it. I pulled back the curtain to see my favorite new picture, the screen saver that is now always in my mind. Three little blonde heads, 6 big blue eyes and 3 wonderful smiles looking back at me, all in a row.
The best Mother's Day present that could ever have been given.
On Friday, I was lucky to spend time with my oldest and her ballet class, preparing for their amazing recital. One mom and seven girls. Sunday we enjoyed the show as only our big family could. But the show was magical, as my now 5 year old said. And who would have known that during this little ballet recital, I would have come upon a song that would move me as much as this one?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5IqCfxgKZd8
It has become my theme song. My reasons, my explanations for the last 8 months of my life, the hurt, the good, the bad, the people who have come in and made a mess and left. The friends who aren't at all what I thought they would be. I had a hard time picking myself up off the floor after hearing it. Still do. It's become the most played song on my iPod.
Saturday I spent a wonderful day with my family, traveling around the northwest corner of the state we live in. Enjoying the scenery, the time with each other. We shopped in little boutiques. Dined in a fancy restaurant. Drove. Laughed. Smiled.
At one point we were shopping in a kitchy little store. My three girls entertained themselves with books from the store, and hunkered down in the sloped-ceilinged dressing room. I heard giggles from behind the curtain, and saw six little feet sticking out from under it. I pulled back the curtain to see my favorite new picture, the screen saver that is now always in my mind. Three little blonde heads, 6 big blue eyes and 3 wonderful smiles looking back at me, all in a row.
The best Mother's Day present that could ever have been given.
Tuesday, May 18
Free Will
A few weeks ago, my husband and I were watching an episode of Saturday Night Live. Why, I am not really sure. We never watch the show, haven't in years and years, since all of the good actors went off and got famous. It has always seemed like a waste of perfectly good sleeping time.
There is one skit that stands out in my mind in particular. The cast characters were attending some sort of party, and they just happened to decide to party in a bear's cave. The bear was awoken, and in turn took his anger out on the partygoers. Instead of realizing their mistake, the partygoers in turn got mad at the bear for stepping on their free will to party wherever they wanted to.
Really?
A few months ago, while I was still on Facebook, there was a long drawn out conversation about "free will." That people have free will to do whatever they want. Regardless of what happens as the outcome. If someone gets hurt, well, the "hurter" had free will to hurt, and the "hurtee" just has the free will to deal with the scars left behind.
Using the term "free will" is a cop-out. People think that it frees them from responsibility and accountability. In reality, it only furthers their cowardice.
There is one skit that stands out in my mind in particular. The cast characters were attending some sort of party, and they just happened to decide to party in a bear's cave. The bear was awoken, and in turn took his anger out on the partygoers. Instead of realizing their mistake, the partygoers in turn got mad at the bear for stepping on their free will to party wherever they wanted to.
Really?
A few months ago, while I was still on Facebook, there was a long drawn out conversation about "free will." That people have free will to do whatever they want. Regardless of what happens as the outcome. If someone gets hurt, well, the "hurter" had free will to hurt, and the "hurtee" just has the free will to deal with the scars left behind.
Using the term "free will" is a cop-out. People think that it frees them from responsibility and accountability. In reality, it only furthers their cowardice.
Wednesday, May 5
Life's a Beach
Today was my usual day to go into my oldest's classroom at school and be the mother's helper for the day. Usually I read with the children, but today my task was cutting frogs. Paper frogs, for a performance in a few weeks.
My youngest goes to play with a friend for the hour or so that I am at school. The two play nicely together, friends in their own right. Usually I spend the rest of the morning at my friend's kitchen table, drinking coffee and being talked down from whatever ledge I might be on that day. My friend has been very instrumental in my life over the last few months, so I am glad our children enjoy each other so much.
Today I had planned to pick my little one up and head out around town to run errands: library, dry cleaner, bank, food pantry, Wal-mart... the list goes on.
None of it happened.
The three of them joined another friend and child at the beach to enjoy the abnormally warm May weather. So that's where I headed to meet them.
We ended up staying there until it was time for the three moms to head out and pick our older children up from the preschool they all attend, the tie that binds us all as friends. Our children were wet and sandy, tired and with full tummies (from a quick run down to McD's). They had spent the morning playing in sand, poking fish, running, splashing, and we spent the morning lying on the dock in the sun, sharing our trials, tribulations and triumphs of mommyhood and wifedom.
Wal-mart will be there tomorrow.
My youngest goes to play with a friend for the hour or so that I am at school. The two play nicely together, friends in their own right. Usually I spend the rest of the morning at my friend's kitchen table, drinking coffee and being talked down from whatever ledge I might be on that day. My friend has been very instrumental in my life over the last few months, so I am glad our children enjoy each other so much.
Today I had planned to pick my little one up and head out around town to run errands: library, dry cleaner, bank, food pantry, Wal-mart... the list goes on.
None of it happened.
The three of them joined another friend and child at the beach to enjoy the abnormally warm May weather. So that's where I headed to meet them.
We ended up staying there until it was time for the three moms to head out and pick our older children up from the preschool they all attend, the tie that binds us all as friends. Our children were wet and sandy, tired and with full tummies (from a quick run down to McD's). They had spent the morning playing in sand, poking fish, running, splashing, and we spent the morning lying on the dock in the sun, sharing our trials, tribulations and triumphs of mommyhood and wifedom.
Wal-mart will be there tomorrow.
Tuesday, May 4
Cinderella
The days of a stay-at-home mom can tend to get a little hectic, especially as children get older. Driving to and fro, activities, friends, house cleaning, errands... there are days where time just seems to fly by. Weekends aren't immune to it, either.
This past Saturday I took my children to a birthday party for one of their friends. In the middle, I had to leave with the youngest and the oldest to get to the oldest's ballet rehearsal, and then go back and get the middle child from the party, leaving room for cake that the other two missed. Then we had to rush home and await grandma's arrival to watch them while my husband and I went to the Ball.
Yes, the Ball.
Saturday night was the annual fundraising event for the organization that my husband works for. We go every year. We get to dress up in ballgowns and tuxedos, have fancy hors d'ourves, mingle, dance. Pretend that, just for a night, we are high society, with money to spend and philanthropize with.
As I was telling my friends at the birthday party our plans for the evening, my oldest asked me, "Mom, does Daddy get to be your prince?"
We all laughed at her innocence, such a loaded question from the mouth of a 6 year old.
But I got to thinking... what does a prince do? Shower you with love and attention. Make you feel beautiful, desirable, worthy. Sweep you off your feet and whisk you away from all the bad, protect you and give you everything better.
I answered those big blue eyes, "Yes, baby. Daddy gets to be my prince."
This past Saturday I took my children to a birthday party for one of their friends. In the middle, I had to leave with the youngest and the oldest to get to the oldest's ballet rehearsal, and then go back and get the middle child from the party, leaving room for cake that the other two missed. Then we had to rush home and await grandma's arrival to watch them while my husband and I went to the Ball.
Yes, the Ball.
Saturday night was the annual fundraising event for the organization that my husband works for. We go every year. We get to dress up in ballgowns and tuxedos, have fancy hors d'ourves, mingle, dance. Pretend that, just for a night, we are high society, with money to spend and philanthropize with.
As I was telling my friends at the birthday party our plans for the evening, my oldest asked me, "Mom, does Daddy get to be your prince?"
We all laughed at her innocence, such a loaded question from the mouth of a 6 year old.
But I got to thinking... what does a prince do? Shower you with love and attention. Make you feel beautiful, desirable, worthy. Sweep you off your feet and whisk you away from all the bad, protect you and give you everything better.
I answered those big blue eyes, "Yes, baby. Daddy gets to be my prince."
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