While lunching with a friend the other day, a small skirmish broke out over one of the grubby sand toys in Joe’s Sand Lot. I got up from the table and quietly dispensed my standard ‘play nice or don’t play’ rule and Wolfie and Mattie went off to play nice again.
Impressed, my friend said, “You handled that well. I would have lost it.”
“It’s early.” I replied and we both had a good laugh.
When I am rested, refreshed and on task it’s so easy to be Wolfie and Mattie’s Mama. The best part of being home every day continues to be our morning snuggle. Imagine, me! I am the first place they go when they open their little eyes. They climb on my lap to cuddle and rest their heads on my shoulder while they finish waking up.
In my finest moments, I have the pride of purpose, following my strongest desire to be fully present in each moment with my children, comforting them, loving them, supporting them, to be that one place they can count on as a soft place to land. It is then that I swoon with love for them and feel blessed to be answering this higher calling.
But then there are those other ugly moments when I can’t seem to see past amassing pile of dishes, the hampers puking dirty clothes out their lids, when I seem to spend my whole day stuck on the cook-feed-clean-repeat cycle. In those moments I can’t bear to hear another ‘Mama’ out of either one of them and I respond sharply “WHAT?” which sometimes is enough send Mattie to tears. Those days I question my very ability to mother, keep a decent house, walk and chew gum at the same time. I’m still trying to find a way to quickly snap myself out of those moments. Sometimes, a self-imposed Mama-time-out is all I need to come back with a fresh perspective. Some days it takes repeating.
I read a news bulletin about a study reporting that verbal abuse hurts kids psychologically almost as much as physical and the damage lasts into adulthood – is this really a surprise to anyone? I do understand how child abuse happens and I know its seed is in me. I’ve felt it pushing against its skin threatening to germinate and pop into my language. I’m not surprised that I can control this darkness, but more mortified that I even need to. Now don’t go fearing for my children or calling DCFS on me – it’s not like that AT ALL. I’m only writing here about understanding the inner-workings of a parent gone wrong, understanding the speed at which parental boiling points are reached. It takes so much more effort to discipline your child into wanting to do what pleases you, than to simply force or scare them into it.
‘Because I said so, that’s why.’
Friday, June 30, 2006
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
Pony Tails!!
Can anyone resist a little girl in ponytails? It's a good thing Mattie hasn't realized their power yet - she kept these in for a full two hours last night.
I can't believe how easy it is to insert pics in blogger now - our family site may never get updated now.
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
Mattie has met her computer!
As if we don’t have enough chip-heads in our little family here, I introduced Mattie to the concept of working the mouse herself. She’s been keenly watching Wolf at the PC and clearly wanting to get involved but she hadn’t made the mouse-makes-it-work connection. I set her up on the Fisher Price site for Tap and Color, where pressing any key fills in part of a picture with a color. She only had to click the mouse to move to the next picture. That was just a couple weeks ago and she’s already moved on to click-and-drag on Grama’s regular mouse as well as our trackballs!
That does add a whole new dynamic to our household though. Mattie came screaming into the kitchen, “I want BOOBIES!! I want boobies Mama!” “What?!” I probed for a little clarification (I thought I had years to prepare…) “I want boobies on the computer Mama!” she specified. “Oh, BooBAHS Mattie.” Thank goodness I exhaled and talked Wolf into giving her a turn. Mattie has a definite will of her own and when she gets an idea that she wants a particular thing or activity, she’s not very likely to let it go. I’ve given my own PC over several times already to avoid hearing her and Wolfie shriek, ‘I want it!’ I think I remember Wolfie ‘taking off’ at the PC too, just waiting to be set free of our laps. Mattie’s kind of like that only at a slower pace, like she wants to really master a particular activity before moving on to something new.
Her entertaining cuteness continues to abound. The other night at dinner she leaned over and kissed my cheek saying, “There Mama, I gave you a kiss.” And no sooner had she sat upright then realized, “Hey! Where’s MY kiss?” And now there’s computer twospeak: Mattie whines, “I want to go on the computer!” because I just told Wolf he could. I tell Mattie I will let her use my computer. “Oh! That would be good!” she smiles with escalating excitement, “I could go on your computer and you help me. That would be GOOD!” Giggle, giggle, giggle – from BOTH of us!
That does add a whole new dynamic to our household though. Mattie came screaming into the kitchen, “I want BOOBIES!! I want boobies Mama!” “What?!” I probed for a little clarification (I thought I had years to prepare…) “I want boobies on the computer Mama!” she specified. “Oh, BooBAHS Mattie.” Thank goodness I exhaled and talked Wolf into giving her a turn. Mattie has a definite will of her own and when she gets an idea that she wants a particular thing or activity, she’s not very likely to let it go. I’ve given my own PC over several times already to avoid hearing her and Wolfie shriek, ‘I want it!’ I think I remember Wolfie ‘taking off’ at the PC too, just waiting to be set free of our laps. Mattie’s kind of like that only at a slower pace, like she wants to really master a particular activity before moving on to something new.
Her entertaining cuteness continues to abound. The other night at dinner she leaned over and kissed my cheek saying, “There Mama, I gave you a kiss.” And no sooner had she sat upright then realized, “Hey! Where’s MY kiss?” And now there’s computer twospeak: Mattie whines, “I want to go on the computer!” because I just told Wolf he could. I tell Mattie I will let her use my computer. “Oh! That would be good!” she smiles with escalating excitement, “I could go on your computer and you help me. That would be GOOD!” Giggle, giggle, giggle – from BOTH of us!
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
Vasoweene!! That’s my faaavrit!
Life with Mattie is very busy and extremely FUN! She is our little entertainer, always ready with a joke, dance or story to make you laugh. She loves attention as long as it’s not too much too fast – if she gets overwhelmed she hides her face in my legs (thighs- she’s really tall!) Everything she does is amusing and cute – I could write all day long, so it’s odd that I haven’t. I’ve been quite busy enjoying her.
She loves to dance to any music, but especially music she can control like the white bear that plays ‘Jesus Loves Me’ to a calypso beat. One night before bed, she skipped around me cheering, “Dance, Mama. Dance!” Another day at Jewel, where she thrills to the freedom of getting in and out of cart at will, she got out in the cleaning aisle and grabbed two toilet plunger bottoms and started marching and crashing them like cymbals. Mattie just cracks me up!
We went sledding and I sent Mattie speeding down the hill in the baby sled – her feet stick out quite a bit. “Look out below!” she yelled from the bottom. Who tells her this stuff? And her little twospeak language is so adorable I have to consciously ignore it to get anything done. She cranes her head towards you so she can speak directly into your face and make sure you’re listening to her, “Oh! Dat wud be esseyeding.” Or, “You have to wear gloves to go out in the shnow.” And the favorite, “Vasoweene!! That’s my faaavrit!”
She loves to dance to any music, but especially music she can control like the white bear that plays ‘Jesus Loves Me’ to a calypso beat. One night before bed, she skipped around me cheering, “Dance, Mama. Dance!” Another day at Jewel, where she thrills to the freedom of getting in and out of cart at will, she got out in the cleaning aisle and grabbed two toilet plunger bottoms and started marching and crashing them like cymbals. Mattie just cracks me up!
We went sledding and I sent Mattie speeding down the hill in the baby sled – her feet stick out quite a bit. “Look out below!” she yelled from the bottom. Who tells her this stuff? And her little twospeak language is so adorable I have to consciously ignore it to get anything done. She cranes her head towards you so she can speak directly into your face and make sure you’re listening to her, “Oh! Dat wud be esseyeding.” Or, “You have to wear gloves to go out in the shnow.” And the favorite, “Vasoweene!! That’s my faaavrit!”
Sunday, January 22, 2006
Revisiting Mother's Love
I suppose it's an appropriate time to go back a bit as I did want to wish the world well for the holidays. Yet I didn't really get a chance to write something new for real-life friends, let alone e-ones. The post below began it all. It's hard to believe how much time has passed since, but I have the sick four year old upstairs in my bed to prove it.
A sick child is a profound exercise in motherly self-control, isn't it? Not just in trying and re-trying your disappearing vapors of patience, but it's also a challenge to corral your worst-case-scenario-creating imagination. Wolf has a cough which started a little over a week ago (after almost a week long break from the left-over cough lingering from his last cold.) Each of my parents was recently diagnosed with pneumonia - Grama was not hospitalized, just given a prescription and sent home. Wolf started coughing the day after spending an afternoon with Grama.
I've read all I can on coughs with no fever or other symptoms and EVERYTHING says not to worry. Yet when your sleep is interrupted by the sound of your child hacking and hoarking in the night, that still small voice whispers, 'LIFE is temporary.' You feel so relieved that his coughing did not wake his sister and even more relief when it stops. But when you get up to go to Jazzercise and think, 'Wow I haven't heard him cough since 2:00 a.m.' that still small voice repeats, 'life is temporary.' Then you imagine in the farthest, smallest, most obscure recess of your heart that something HORRIBLE has happened (so horrible I can't even write it, so how do I come to think it so often?) And you wonder how you'll be able to live with yourself knowing you traipsed off happily to Jazzercise while your first born lay in his bed...
Then the bedroom door opens and my groggy got-up-way-too-early boy comes to me for his morning snuggle. I greet him with a fervor of 'YOU'RE ALIVE!' hugs and kisses which he seems to just accept. How does a kid love a psycho-mom again? Do all moms think this way?
A Mother's Love
I have not really known love, until now. In my son I have found a part of myself that I never knew existed. It has the same warmth and affection as the love I feel for my husband, family and friends, but it is far more intense. The love I have for my son is truly unconditional and that is why I’ve never felt it before. No matter how I have professed to love in the past, I have always been prepared to abandon that love if it was not reciprocated or somehow ceased to benefit me. The love I have for my son will continue until I draw my last breath, whether or not it is returned and regardless of whether he deserves it.
Today my son is six days old and I cannot bear even the thought of his death without feeling the intense pain of it. And I cannot even comprehend taking the life of my son by my own hand for any reason, even to spare the life of my husband or mother, let alone to spare the life of someone who hates me. Yet this is what God has done for each of us in Christ, His Son who is far more precious and unique than any earthly son could ever be. I don’t think that concept has ever been so clear to me.
A sick child is a profound exercise in motherly self-control, isn't it? Not just in trying and re-trying your disappearing vapors of patience, but it's also a challenge to corral your worst-case-scenario-creating imagination. Wolf has a cough which started a little over a week ago (after almost a week long break from the left-over cough lingering from his last cold.) Each of my parents was recently diagnosed with pneumonia - Grama was not hospitalized, just given a prescription and sent home. Wolf started coughing the day after spending an afternoon with Grama.
I've read all I can on coughs with no fever or other symptoms and EVERYTHING says not to worry. Yet when your sleep is interrupted by the sound of your child hacking and hoarking in the night, that still small voice whispers, 'LIFE is temporary.' You feel so relieved that his coughing did not wake his sister and even more relief when it stops. But when you get up to go to Jazzercise and think, 'Wow I haven't heard him cough since 2:00 a.m.' that still small voice repeats, 'life is temporary.' Then you imagine in the farthest, smallest, most obscure recess of your heart that something HORRIBLE has happened (so horrible I can't even write it, so how do I come to think it so often?) And you wonder how you'll be able to live with yourself knowing you traipsed off happily to Jazzercise while your first born lay in his bed...
Then the bedroom door opens and my groggy got-up-way-too-early boy comes to me for his morning snuggle. I greet him with a fervor of 'YOU'RE ALIVE!' hugs and kisses which he seems to just accept. How does a kid love a psycho-mom again? Do all moms think this way?
A Mother's Love
I have not really known love, until now. In my son I have found a part of myself that I never knew existed. It has the same warmth and affection as the love I feel for my husband, family and friends, but it is far more intense. The love I have for my son is truly unconditional and that is why I’ve never felt it before. No matter how I have professed to love in the past, I have always been prepared to abandon that love if it was not reciprocated or somehow ceased to benefit me. The love I have for my son will continue until I draw my last breath, whether or not it is returned and regardless of whether he deserves it.
Today my son is six days old and I cannot bear even the thought of his death without feeling the intense pain of it. And I cannot even comprehend taking the life of my son by my own hand for any reason, even to spare the life of my husband or mother, let alone to spare the life of someone who hates me. Yet this is what God has done for each of us in Christ, His Son who is far more precious and unique than any earthly son could ever be. I don’t think that concept has ever been so clear to me.
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