I Love Summer

I really do love it...time with my kiddos that seems hard to find during the school year, time for Daddy to hang out with the kiddos a little more. Dollar movies, vacation Bible school, swimming, more play time, crafts with the kiddos....what's not to love?

But where we live, heat is not a refreshing change from a long, icy winter. It is a way of life, with few exceptions. Where I live, most years have consisted of two seasons....summer and not quite as hot as summer.

Okay, that's a little extreme. Sometimes there is a need for a sweater when we go to evening mass on Christmas Eve. And my children have been known to wear gloves or mittens...when a local church ships in ice, I mean snow, during the Christmas season.

But now as I sit inside at 33 1/2 weeks pregnant with my darling girl already weighing in at 5 1/2-6 pounds, our a/c turned down to 65 degrees, I'm finding summer very oppressive. Even inside with the a/c turned down that low and the ceiling fans on, I'm hot. Sweating kind of hot. And I can think of nothing fun and exciting to do with the kiddos. Okay, nothing fun and exciting that my pregnant body wants to do.

My pregnant body especially doesn't want to do the laundry. My pregnant arms would rather just shut the door to the laundry room so that my pregnant eyes don't have to see all that laundry piled up on the floor (a lot of that laundry being the result of two or three showers that I am taking a day because I feel so sweaty).

And have I mentioned that I hate, hate, hate letting my children watch tv? I think I mentioned it here.

So I feel guilty when my children ask, "What can we dooooooooo?" And I feel guilty when my oldest daughter becomes a playwrite and directs her brother and sister in the play (I know I shouldn't; I know that's really what's good for them--to come up with something creative and fun to do, but I do feel like I should be directing every activity...)

And I already nested. Several weeks ago my hubby took the kiddos to see their grandparents, and I had a week of nesting. Everything was ready for this little bird to arrive when they came home. But she's not here yet.

Now I am behind in the laundry, and there are certainly a million things that I could do that I will surely be wondering why I didn't do once the little one arrives and there is sleep deprivation and the demand of caring for a newborn around the clock.

I think I'm whining.

But one more thing....did I mention that 2/3 of my children have strep? They've been on antibiotics for 2 days which is good because something fun for them is just around the bend.

Vacation Bible School starts Monday.

This is Why I Am Not Currently Employed

When I was growing up, I wanted to be a vet. And then a psychologist and an author. I never wanted to be a mom who stayed home with her kids. In fact, in my mind, that was for women who had nothing else to offer. Except wanting babies. And that seemed like a real weakness to me--to want babies more than any other accomplishment in life. I mean, really. I wanted to DO SOMETHING. Something that MATTERED.

Then I finished growing up (physically, anyway) and woke up to find myself a teacher. I really enjoyed my job and spent myself totally on it. I worked hard and often stayed 'til 10:30 or 11:00 at night making things to help my students learn better. It really was the definition of who I was. The closest thing to a miracle that I could do was to teach a child to read. And it was an amazing feeling!

But then we had our first child. Talk about a miracle! And leaving her to teach other people's children was one of the hardest things that I ever had to do. I wanted to be there to teach my child things that only I could and to love her the way that only I could. I wanted to be at home doing something that MATTERED most. But there was just no financial way that I could stay home with her then.

However, since my second kiddo arrived on the scene, I've been able to be home to raise our children. And it's been because I've been blessed enough to have a wonderful husband who believes in that gift to our children, too. I'm not perfect at it. And sometimes I get really sick of doing things like laundry and cooking and picking up and telling somebody to do something fifteen times. I mean, Holly Homemaker I am not. And sometimes, I miss the accolades that I got from parents and co-workers. But now I'm home to love my kiddos and teach them as only one who loves you this much can. And hugs from little arms and cries of, "You're the best!" are infinitely better than my "Teacher of the Year" award or perfect evaluations.

Now, sometimes I substitute in my daughter's class. When I sub, Little Guy (2) goes to child care downstairs. Mid-morning, his little group goes outside to the playground right downstairs from the 5th grade classroom. I get the chance to look down and see my little man in action. A couple of months ago, I looked down and saw him amidst a sea of two year olds. He was crying. Red-faced, hand to the mouth crying. He stood next to the teacher who made no visible attempt to comfort him. He stood next to her and continued to cry for the entire time that they were outside. He needed his mama. I know that some would say that he'd toughen up. He'd get used to being away. But I'm glad that he doesn't have to. One of the best gifts I can give to him is a solid foundation of love. One day he will have to go out to slay dragons, bring home the bacon, and all of those things where he will, undoubtedly, encounter people who are "not nice". He'll have to take care of himself. But he needs that foundation of knowing that he is not alone in this world. His mom, his dad and his entire family are for him.
I'll leave you with a sappy little poem that I received on the Mother's Day before I delivered my firstborn. The poem has hung on my fridge since then. It's a little corny, but it always reminds me of my purpose when I start comparing myself to someone who is amazingly successful in this world. I can never finish it without tearing up.

SUCCESSFUL

There are certain dreams I cherish
In the channels of my heart
That somehow seem more important
Every time a new day starts.
It's a feeling that comes to me
And can always top all others---
How to make myself successful
As a good, outstanding mother.

I may climb life's highest mountains,
I may gather wealth and fame,
They may list me with the greatest
Of the well-known, highbrow names.
But it all would have no meaning
If the test I didn't pass
And I failed to be successful
With my little lad and lass.

They are precious gifts God gave me
Just to make my life more bright,
And 'twill be my best ambition
That I set their footsteps right.
It's the one job that I dream of
And the biggest of all others
That I've got to be successful
As a good, outstanding mother.

Ruth J. Baker

In some ways, my life has changed 180 degrees since childhood. Somewhere during biology class, the dream of being a vet faded away. My B.S. is in psychology, but the closest I ever came to that was some very unimportant social work. And, well...I'm certainly no author. I'm not sorry that I didn't do any of those things that I dreamed of growing up. God has blessed me with another, bigger dream. But I do live the most important part of the old dream now. Every day, I get to do something that really matters. I pray that I am successful.

The Family That Plays Together.....

I am a busy mom. I hate to say that and hate to feel that because when I am busy (which is a lot of the time), I often find myself not being able to stay present in the moment. I find myself looking at my watch--or at least thinking, "Okay, I have this many more minutes to read this story" or --what's worse--not sitting down to read the story or take the little one outside to cut the grass or walk the dog. How many times have I said, "We'll do it when you get up from your nap," or "After I load the dishwasher...., " or just, "Later...."?

Which one of my children, when getting to spend some fun time with Mama will mess it up through sassy talk or direct disobedience? (Okay, sometimes...but rarely.) Lately, I must say, discipline has been much more difficult with all three of my kiddos. By difficult I mean that I feel like I am walking through drying cement. Even the little one, who is usually pretty easy, has been directly defying me time after time. What is it?

I'm sure that there are several factors at play (no pun intended), but I cannot get away from the fact that there has been too much work and not enough play in our family. Too many "have-to's" and not enough time to laugh or just sit or read bedtime stories about Frances the Badger or bend down and look at the grass and leaves. Not enough time to collect acorns and leave them on the stepping stone for our squirrel and not enough time to have each of my children help me cook dinner and talk about when I was a little girl instead of rushing them through their "have to's" of setting the table and clearing it after we eat.

Today there were dishes in the sink, and there was laundry to be folded. But my boy and I stopped and played ball in the foyer. Over and over we threw the ball and giggled when we didn't catch it--or when we did. Over and over, my boy said , "Mommy,--you--are--playing--wif--me! Mommy,--you--are--playing--wif--me!"