graduation day

Big news in our house this week!  Jude graduated pre-k yesterday with a little ceremony with his classmates.  I snapped a quick picture of the kids before we got in the car in the morning so that I could compare it with last August’s “first day” photo, and it’s hard to believe how much they’ve grown in the past 9 or so months. It’s been such a tremendous time of growth and change for all of us.  And when I see these smiling faces and happy kids, I feel such a swell of peace and pride.

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As teachers, I think we approach life through the lens of the academic year a bit. January brings a fresh start for most people, but we run along in an August to May pattern sometimes. So to look back at the insane changes that happened this year and what we had before us (unknown to me) last August, it feels SO GOOD to have it all behind me.  We did it!  I can’t wait to exhale this summer.

I took care of a few last minute things in my office on Friday morning, and then I picked up the kids from school at 2:00 – meaning of course that I walked the tiny distance to get them from my campus’s on-site child development center. We walked around a bit to enjoy the weather, and the kids played with the sculptures near the fine arts building as we waited for family to show up for the big ceremony.

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I could write a novel-length post here about how amazing my job is and how much I value my community there and how insanely and divinely perfect this opportunity was for me in light of my current situation.  But I should also mention that the very best thing about my job is that the kids are plugged in right where I am. I’m grateful that they get to see art exhibits or plays or ballets or whatever is happening on campus at any given moment, but I’m also thankful for caring teachers and the sense of community that exists there. I can pop in whenever I’m needed or want to check on something or help with things.  It is such a gift to see these moments in the middle of my workday – birthday celebrations with classes, reading a favorite book, trick or treating on Halloween.  All of it right there with me.  I never take it for granted.

The ceremony was adorable, and Jude received a diploma and a folder showcasing much of his work for the year.  He has grown so incredibly much this year, and I know he’s still little and it’s only pre-k, but you really can’t help but feel unbelievably proud of your kids as you watch them achieve milestones like this one.  He has so much ahead of him and a bright future waiting. I’m excited to watch it unfold.  But for yesterday, I was also just happy to celebrate what he’s done already. Five is such a great age.  The world is wide open for him.

last day of pre-k

last day of pre-k

last day of pre-k

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On the whole, as I finish this school year and this stage with my oldest, I’m just feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude. Yes, there are things that seem pretty unfair and certainly unexpected about this past few months, but those details are fading and bothering me less and less every day. I don’t have to fight those thoughts from my head much anymore as I did in the beginning.

There’s too much happiness and promise waiting down the road for me to dwell on anything else for too long. Everyone has her own road to walk, so to speak – her own path and purpose. Mine feels pretty good lately. I love these kids. I love my community. I love my job. And yesterday, I was so grateful for all of those things and how much they are shaping my life as I know it.

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Cheers to summer! To rest and resetting my thoughts and priorities. To celebrating and appreciating these two kids and my little life. It’s a good one.

mother’s day weekend

It’s 10pm, and the kids are asleep after a full day in the hot May sunshine. We visited a local strawberry farm for their strawberry festival as opposed to just picking berries like we did last year.  The kids were serious about finding the ripest ones, and they had such a good time.

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We left with A TON of strawberries, and I need to get baking this week to do something with them.  The kids also enjoyed time with their cousins who came with us and indulged in face painting and tractor rides and all sorts of fun distractions.  Schlepping kids through a festival in the hot sun always takes some effort, but I am so glad that we did it this year.

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One would think that Mother’s Day without another adult in the house can feel a little weird, I guess. But frankly, it doesn’t feel all that different than the past few years for me. I’ve never had a big celebration or major gifts or breakfast in bed or whatever other images are presented all around us.  This year feels special for a lot of reasons though. Jude is starting to understand it much more clearly. He’s made me all kinds of things – some with the guidance of a teacher or my mother – and lots of other spontaneous drawings and pictures that he explains elaborately to me.  I think he said “Happy Mother’s Day!” with a tight hug at least ten times today, and it’s not even Mother’s Day yet. They’ve been talking about it a lot at school, and he’s entering that age where he loves helping and doing things for other people.

It’s so crazy as my kids get older.  So weird to look at them and see them as little people with their own ideas and opinions. I love it, but it is scary – especially in light of recent happenings for them.  I’m going to be honest in this space and say that every single day I wonder how to handle all of this with them and if they will emerge relatively unscathed.  I worry everyday that the transition is too much and that no source of security here in our own walls can mitigate that confusion. Frankly, I feel lost and overwhelmed pretty often when it comes to answering their questions and explaining what has happened this past few months and why it is happening so fast.

For now, I just keep loving on them and moving on with our routine as we always have.  The one very good thing about their father’s previous travel schedule these past few years is that, to be honest, absolutely nothing in our daily routines has changed in the midst of this. Nothing.  We moved, and the house is different, of course. But I’m still getting them out the door each morning and to school and we eat around our table just the three of us as we always have and enjoy evenings and bedtime routines together just as we always have, and that consistency is helping us all to adjust pretty easily – myself included, I think. There is such comfort in routine.  Such peace in what we know. And if I am being completely honest here, what I know (and have known for these past couple years especially) is my children.

I know every little thing about them. And I’m not special for this. Mothers always do.  It’s knowing what they like and dislike. The names of their little friends and whom they most love playing with on the playground.  Their teachers’ names and school tasks.  Their favorite foods – which can change daily. The music they request on the car radio. But there’s also the physical traits mothers know so well that make me ache these days as I see them changing.  Jude’s legs elongating and his toddler belly disappearing.  His hands lately look like a school boy – no chub as they navigate legos, playground dirt under his fingernails at the end of the day.  Norah’s hair changing texture to feel like a big kid and not so wispy anymore. The list goes on – the cheeks and eyelashes and all the details you carve in your memory as they are cuddled up nursing and rocking at some ungodly hour when they are so new.

In Perfect Match, Jodi Piccoult says, “Sometimes when you pick up your child you can feel the map of your own bones beneath your hands, or smell the scent of your skin in the nape of his neck. This is the most extraordinary thing about motherhood – finding a piece of yourself separate and apart that all the same you could not live without.”  I’m feeling that these days for certain.  They are separate and apart, but a piece of myself that I could not live without.

Early days seem like so long ago now.  I hardly remember the feeling of changing diapers all day and stumbling across a dark hallway in the middle of the night to nurse a crying baby.  And more than that, it is so strange and surreal to think back to that new mom in that house – 2 houses ago now – and that she really had no clue what change and chaos was coming. How ridiculously certain she was in her worldview and expectations. It all seems so hollow now except for the memories with my babies.  They feel like the only real in my life then, and in many ways, they are the most real now.

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I’ve babbled on and on before about how amazingly supportive my friends have been and how I could’t have made it without them. But these kids are the other side of that for me.  They are my compass and my center, and I sometimes think they are the reason for all of it. The past ten years of my life is the only way that these two souls could find their way to me.  I have no idea what the future holds, and I’ve learned enough about life these past 6 months that I know it’s pointless to guess.  But whatever unfolds, these two will be central to it. And for the moment, it is the three of us running along as best we can, and I think we are actually doing alright.

Motherhood is hard. And I am not sure that I do things right every step of every day. But right now, we are doing some very hard things. And we are making it.  They know I love them, and I know they love me in a way that is unique to the three of us and always has been. It’s been a hell of a year, but we are making it. And this weekend I’m celebrating that. To motherhood and all its difficulties – all its gifts, too.  There’s no place I’d rather be than with these two.

and life goes on

I’m finding so much comfort in the little things lately. My happiness jar is a fun way to reflect on what makes me feel joy. But another great distraction lies in my kids.  The funny things they say and do, the way they interact with each other. Every little bit of it heals me lately.

Atlanta weather, as usual, is nuts.  It’s icy this week with school closings, and a couple Saturdays ago, we were at the park with a sunny 68 degrees. I take what I can get these days though.

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Jude’s class also celebrated 100 days of school earlier this month with “Dress Like You Are a Hundred Years Old” Day. He loved it. Such an old soul, this one.

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And Norah is pretty much always my shadow lately. Never a private moment away from her, but I do love this stage. So much curiosity and observation. And a lot of joy.

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I’ve always heard that the divine is felt most in everyday moments, and I’ve written before about how I’ve known that to be true. I’m finding healing begins with these everyday moments, too. Perfection is never found when I think too much or look around. There is so much chaos and disappointment happening in my life right now. But in these little moments here and there? A glimmer of peace and contentment.

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I’m working very hard to trust the timing of my own life and know a bigger plan is in store with brighter things ahead. I don’t feel it all the time or everyday. But sometimes it’s the slightest little tug, like a knock at the door.  A whole new world on the horizon when I get there.

my two

Thank you for all the kind words, emails, and texts since my last post. I do hope to be more specific in the months to come, but for now, keep holding me in your thoughts as 2014 comes to a close. I am not certain I’m ready for all the changes 2015 will bring for me.

I’m realizing we had family photos done almost 2 months ago, and I never shared here. I’m sharing a few of my kids for you to see.

Pro Pics 2014

Pro Pics 2014

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It’s so crazy seeing them grow older and change with every passing month. This feeling that time escapes me is something I am getting used to, and it’s something I want to focus on countering in the coming year. I feel like I’ve missed so much with them these past few weeks as I focus on other things. It’s a heaviness that I only feel in retrospect. … Realizing I was not listening to that conversation or question Jude asked me because my mind was elsewhere. Knowing I didn’t hold Norah as closely and as long as I could have because I was ready to move on to the next task on my list.  Just the sting of realizing after the moment has passed that you have not been present for it as it deserved.  That has happened far too much lately.

Pro Pics 2014

Pro Pics 2014

And these two?  Of all the gifts I have received, the lessons learned, the grace I’ve been rewarded – they are the thing I am most grateful for.  In all my life.  I sometimes think that absolutely anything – any pain or sacrifice – is worth the reward of knowing and guiding these two.  I hope I can treat that role with as much respect and dedication as it deserves in the coming year.

Sunflowers. And growing pains.

We heard about a local sunflower farm that is only a few minutes from our house and decided to check it out last weekend.

 

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I am trying to be conscious about being more present with my kids, in the truest sense – meaning not taking photos of everything all the time. It’s so easy to get caught-up in social media and taking photos when we have these little devices in our pockets all day and such cute little subjects. Sunday was an exception though in that the entire reason we went was simply to take photos of the kids and explore a local find. Jude picked out his own clothes that morning, so I just went with it and told him I’d put sister in blue to match.

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So we get there, and there were gorgeous fields of tall sunflowers as far as you could see. And barns and fences and old shady trees and every perfect photo spot you could imagine.

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But after three whole minutes of trying to snap a photo or two, Jude decided he would refuse to participate. And no amount of bribing or threatening or asking nicely or encouraging could work to convince him otherwise. So it might look picturesque, but here is the other [whole] story.

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It’s such a hard balance as a parent – deciding what hill you choose to die on, so to speak. What battles to pick.  Like do I really care all that much that he refuses to take photos when I ask him lately?  Or that he tells me “no, I don’t feel like it” when I ask him to hug grandparents goodbye as they leave?   Or that he has suddenly decided that every command and request on my part is a signal for refusal and negotiation?   The answer is yes and no.  It depends on what trait we’re talking about and what day you ask me.  Sometimes it feels like an important battle worth fighting.  Sometimes it doesn’t.

 

I read this great little essay last week, and number two really struck a chord with me.  I can see characteristics emerging in my two already.  Norah is incredibly shy in larger groups of people, and she has to warm up to new situations.  There is no amount of urging or expecting or being pushy that changes this, in fact those actions usually lead to worse behavior.  With Jude, I know that he doesn’t like taking photos, he has an abundance of physical energy and curiosity, he could not care less what other kids are doing, and he behaves best when his hands and brain are busy.  Is it a better idea for everyone involved to just accept these things and move on and focus on what he enjoys?  Or should I start trying, as he grows and emerges to school-age expectations of behavior, to slowly encourage a change in some of these things to adapt to social norms?  These are rhetorical questions that I don’t necessarily expect an answer to, but I’m just thinking out loud as I do so often in this space.

I know many of you are tackling similar issues as moms.  It’s such a tightrope we walk all the time, it seems.  A delicate balance as we try to encourage the best qualities in our kids and help them progress and understand social expectations, but also offer a message of unconditional acceptance.  There aren’t any easy answers.

This summer has been a little rough for him….An entire academic year of 8:30-3:30 friends and activities, and now we are home everyday. Plus he’s understanding so much more about the world around him and gaining emotional intelligence, so to speak. It leads to some growing pains, I think.  I ran across this quote on Pinterest recently.

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I’m trying my hardest to back off and let him bloom in his own way – with just a little gentle guidance. It’s harder some days than others.

 

back at it

When I was a full-time stay-at-home-mom, I definitely had my fair share of comments from working mothers about how hard staying home was and how draining it can be on your nerves and energy.  I had my moments, admittedly, but on the whole, I think I just grew used to it.  That bone-tired feeling at the end of the day.  The constant watching and correcting and cooking and cleaning.  But after a few months of having an office and an outside focus for a few hours of my day, my stamina has declined.  Because ohmygosh I am so tired chasing these kids.

 

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I love being home and I am grateful it is summer.  But these ages are no joke. A Facebook friend of mine posted a photo last week to explain she is doing an etiquette “camp” with her ten-year-old daughter this summer – complete with a walk through Emily Post’s guidebook and a final exam that culminates in a dinner party where her daughter has to correctly host and carry on conversations with invited guests.  I think the idea is admirable and sweet and maybe one day I will teach these skills to my two, but I also laugh a little.  My kids are two and four, and my summer plans are to keep them alive, happy, fed.  That is pretty much it.

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But so far we are making it and basking in the glory of some lazy days ahead.  We’ve splashed around at the neighborhood pool, climbed trees, spent time with cousins and friends, and eaten outside more often than not. I know it’s the teacher in me, but summer really is my favorite.

only Wednesday?

What a week.  I am not sure how it is only Wednesday or how everything seems to go wrong at the same time and create a perfect storm of inconvenience.  But seriously, how does that always seem to happen?

 

Scott had only about 32 hours of travel time this week when he’d be gone.  One night.  It happened to coincide with a big reception event I was coordinating at work and a million student appointments for research papers.  And then I get phone call Tuesday at 1:30 that poor Jude started crying at school with an aching ear.  I rush across campus (which means I walked one block at my tiny university) to get him and brought him back to hang in my office while I finished up some tasks and student meetings.  Then I dragged him back to get Norah and hauled them both in the grocery store to get a large sheet cake and a million other items for this work shindig.  It was less than ideal, and I feel certain the cashiers at Publix felt so sorry for me as it was obvious I needed more hands and arms than I had.  The bagging lady offered to help me and we ended up forming a caravan to the car with two carts and two exhausted children in the fiercest March wind I can remember.  (Where is spring, by the way?)

 

So this morning was that should I take my kid to school or should I not? dance that every parent knows.  Made all the more difficult by the fact that I truly had to be present for this reception and Scott was out-of-town.  So not bringing him would have been a difficult feat to orchestrate.  And did I mention I slept from 10-1 last night and then Jude’s cough woke up Norah and it was 4am when I got her back to sleep?  And then Jude busted in my room at 5am.  So I got 4 very broken-up hours of sleep and put on a happy face for a work event today.

 

And I survived.

 

The event went well with a large crowd.  Jude feels alright and his teacher reports a good day.  I came home to this delicious dish on the table because Sunday Me had the forethought to plan for Wednesday-Late-Work-Event Me and prep it to wait on us in the fridge.  Scott made it home safely and baked it for us, and Norah was asleep by 7:45, Jude soon thereafter.  It’s a fact of life that when it rains it pours.  But it’s also a fact of life that the vast majority of the time, that thing I stress about and wonder how it will get done gets done after all.  We survive and move on, and I fully intend to turn in early with my latest reading in just a few minutes.  Tomorrow is a new day.

Sweet moments shine through a bit if I look for them.

 

I found Norah helping Margo this morning. Her arthritis flares in the morning, and when Norah saw her having trouble, she decided to bring the food bowl straight to her.

It’s easy to get overwhelmed with working mom guilt and question every decision you make, wondering if you’re doing it right.  But sometimes you see your kids make small choices that tell you something must be going well after all.  The more experience I get in this motherhood job, the more I cling to those moments as comfort.  And the less I beat myself up.  Tomorrow is a new day.