Monday, January 5, 2015

{To Love My People}

I have a dream. A new year resolution dream!
I have about ten-hundred new year's resolutions I'd like to complete this year.
But since it's me I'm talking about, I'm going to set 999 on the back burner and really focus my efforts on one.
I want to love my people. I want to love them better and more fully, and harder and all that jazz.
Don't get me wrong, I think I'm pretty good at loving my people. But, I feel like I could be even better. Obviously, I could. And since that's one of the very most important things in life I want to be extra good at it. Like, I don't know that I can ever be perfect and making sure my love for them is felt like 100% of the time, cause I'm human.. I'm just a little to mortal to be nice allll the time.. but, maybe I could shoot for like 93ish%.

I will love my family more by striving to create a peaceful and loving home. I will try to be more kind and more patient, and more tender, more engaged, more fun, and spontaneous. I will make an effort to not roll my eyes behind their backs, and speak with a little less sarcasm. I will make more goofy faces at them, and serenade them with silly songs more often. I will dance in the kitchen with them more and sing the little ones lullabys while shuffling around with them on my hip.

I will not become so easily annoyed with my children's desires to play the piano day and night. Little Mozarts I have! It's okay the kids want to watch tele with the volume on 93, right? I will try to not let the fact that my home is in shambles all the time get to me.
I want my people to feel like they can live in their home.

I want to have an aura of happiness and calm about me. (93% of the time:)
Eons ago I cut a little paragraph out of the church news, it is taped inside one of my kitchen cupboards. It says, " One of the major factors in good emotional health in children came from a strong relationship with their mother. From a young age, a child's emotion often mirrors the expression on their mother's face." So I really just want to make a grand effort to have a peaceful look on my face, even when I'm not feeling so inside. Not just for my children, but for my husband too. Cause er body knows that if mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy. Yep.
I want to love my husband more by focusing on being extra touchy feely and affectionate.. lots of kisses and hugs. He likes that. I want to dance in the kitchen more with him while I sing him Fools Rush In by Elvis. He loves that too, even though he won't admit it. I will write him little notes and maybe one day I'll iron a shirt for him. I won't worry so much about the funny things that married couples bicker about.. ya know, important stuff like putting the lid back on the hair gel, and cleaning up his whiskers. Cause that's just silly, no?

I will listen to Payton more intently when he talks. He loves to chatter. I will hug him everyday. He doesn't appreciate the kisses anymore. I will ask less of him as I often make him my go to man for favors. I will make the trip downstairs to tuck him in more frequently just so he knows I love him. I will sit and do arts and crafts and games with him more often. He loves that. I be patient and understanding through the fears and insecurities he feels at times. I will remind myself more frequently that he is only nine, and still a little boy.

When Riley asks me 743 times to look at something funny on the tv show he is watching I will turn and smile and pretend I care.(Cause I am quite certain I will never ever care about anything a cartoon character does or says;) When he wants me to come into his imagination where all stuffed animals are like real people, I will do so like it ain't no thing. I will continue on with his silly bedtime routine and make sure I blow my kisses exactly the way he has taught me to, even though it's totally ridiculous, it makes him feel safe and loved. I will be more patient and tender as he works through what are sometimes, for him, difficult emotions.

I will make cookies with Finnley, as every single night without fail he asks if we can make cookies in the morning. I will read to him more and get on the floor to play. I will make him chocolate milk in a sippee cup, not because he needs one, but because that's the way he likes it. I will give him more hugs and more kisses on the lips, he loves those .. and is still young enough I can get away with it.
I will snuggle with Madsen more and sit by him on the couch. I will hold him and cuddle him on my lap, and read him books, and let him "read" books to me. I will let him play in the water more, not worrying about all the water that spills all over the place. I won't make a big deal when he steals my side of the bed, and my pillow and insists that they are his, and never mine.

My little Jane is easy to love and care for, although time consuming. Easy peasy. She is not hard to figure out. Her and I are always near each other, and I know she feels loved and secure, which makes me happy. I will be better at not reading on my phone while I'm feeding her. She always watches me intently while I feed her and rather than looking at a phone screen, I'm going to watch her back. And I promise to never sing her Rihanna again.
She hated it and cried.

( this is jane's I don't like what you're singing mom face)

I think that wraps it up.

Happy New Year!


Wednesday, December 17, 2014

{Eleven Years}

My mister and I recently celebrated our 11th anniversary. We are like pros at this marriage thing now. Before you get all jealous, my tongue is in my cheek, so settle down, okay! I loved this particular anniversary most of all I think. It feels just right that we've been married for eleven years. Not to long, and not to short. Just right. This is a good feeling for me, I usually feel as though I've been robbed of time and life is just passing me by.
Christian worked a normal day. For the first time ever rather than going out just the two of us we stayed home with the children. I made one of Christian's favorite dinners, gyoza. Over the years I have grown to hate everything about this meal. The preparation, the smell of raw garlic and beef, all the wrapping and cooking. BARF. I chose to make it as proof of my unwavering love and devotion to him. But, that'll be the last time. Like ever. This mama can't handle the nastiness like ebber again.
We had dinner around the table. I actually put allllllll the laundry away...and the legos...and the crayons....and the markers, and playdough, and matchbox cars.....I scrubbed up all the spilled milk and dried glue. The boys helped set the table and wrap gyoza all while yelling at each other to be quiet. One boy kept yelling at another to stop whistling while he was playing the piano and singing, and another was humming and another was playing the recorder....and it was like 34543 decibels all night long.. and if I'm being honest I really wanted to tell them all to shut the heck up, but I refrained because it added to the memory of the night...and I found it amusing to watch them drive each other nuts with all their noise making, never realizing how obnoxious they were being themselves:) We had a lovely dinner around the table. I ate leftover spaghetti if you were wondering.
We watched our wedding video with the kids after dinner, and that was fun. Finnley had peppered me with questions about what an anniversary is all day and really wanted me to wear my wedding dress. It appeased him a little to see what we looked like on our special day. We exchanged small gifts, and then put the boys to bed. We had thirty minutes to ourselves before our little Jane woke up to be fed. I fed her and she threw it all up, I cleaned her up, and then she had a blow out, I cleaned her up again and re-fed her and sooooo on. That is how I ended the day. I wouldn't change a thing about it. Truly.
I feel so happy with where we are at eleven years in. Our lives are not perfect and we certainly have our fair share of difficulty at times, but that is okay. I am not in pursuit of perfection. I am so content to know our family is here now. I feel grateful for a good husband. He loves me and is patient, and kind, and affectionate, and always concerned for me. He is an amazing father and always concerned for the well being and happiness of our children. He makes an effort to spend time with them everyday and teach them and love them. He is a hard worker and a good provider.
If I had it to do over again, I would choose him again and again. I love him.
The End.

Monday, December 1, 2014

{ The Procrastinated Cry }

Things are going as well as I could hope for in my life. I usually don't hold myself to a very high standard, so, .. please don't get the wrong idea. BUT! This has been my best post-partum out of all my babies. I know why, and I'll write about that later... But, I like to tell myself it's because Jane gave me like an extra boost of estrogen or something like that! I am usually always a weepy, hormonal mess after delivery. The dreaded baby blues/anxiety/depression that has always followed me giving birth had me worried this time. I could feel them coming on in the last month of my pregnancy, and knew I needed to do something to take control of the situation before Jane was born. Who knew it'd make all the difference in the world! I feel really grateful that things have gone as smooth as they have.
Adjusting to five children has seemed like a breeze in a lot of ways. In fact, up until a few weeks ago I hadn't even cried, not once. What!? I never cried after delivery, not even when I lay helpless, and in excruciating pain as blood poured out of my body cup by cup by cup ..... a terrifying experience, but apparently not one worthy of tears. I didn't cry when I was in pain from a rough c-section and all the terrible things that happen to your body when you pass from the state of being pregnant to not, or when I felt exhausted from the sleepless nights that inevitably came with having a newborn.  I'm telling you, this was weird for me.
So what finally got to me? Everything. I woke up one morning stressed that I had a doctor appointment for myself and no one to help with my FIVE kids. I needed help, and there was none to be had. Not that I would have asked anyone anyway.. I realized I would have to check my boys out of school and jump through hoops to get myself to the freaking doctor. As soon as I had a plan in my head of how I would make this all work, I got out of bed only to realize that Madsen was sick. I would be up to my eyebrows in vomit and diarrhea all day long. I wasn't going to make it to my appointment, which was surprisingly frustrating. I mean it's not like it was a fun appointment. There is nothing fun about stripping down so your doctor can make sure your uterus has shrunk back down to size! But still, it was MY appointment. Something I needed to do for myself. (SIDE NOTE) My husband actually asked how they check such a thing...I'm telling you the look on his face when I told him was priceless. Priceless. Anyway, as soon as I realized I would be home bound for the day, I looked at Finnley's preschool calendar and realized he was assigned to bring the snack. What the H-E-double hockey sticks!? Of all days to have forgotten something like that. At this point preschool is starting in ten minutes and I've got to load up an infant and a sick little boy and head to the store cause there isn't a pretzel stick or cookie in the house. So annoying.
It was a bad day. By the time my poor husband came home from work I'd had enough. He left for a family party with the three older boys, I put Madsen to bed, and sat and stewed over my terrible day. Which then turned into to a long needed cry over everything and anything that I'd felt sad, mad, or frustrated about in a very long time. The fact that I never have the help I need. I can't ever get myself to a doctor or dentist appointment without a lot of jumping through hoops, and sometimes not at all. I never get sick days. Sometimes I get a little help, but usually not. My best friend had her birthday in October and a month later I still had not been able to go to lunch with her. No mother really wants to take 3 kids to lunch. For all the fathers out there who think it's fun to take the kids and get out of the house,,,it's not, okay. It's just what mothers do as an attempt to get rid of cabin fever and try and be social, and feel productive and not go completely bat crap crazy. I go most days with no adult conversation. Now, I'm not a super social person but a conversation with another adult is refreshing now and then! 97% of my time is spent with little needy people that I love dearly but it brings me to the fact that... I AM NEVER ALONE! By this time I probably started the ugly cry. Poor Jane lay in my arms as all my emotion rolled off of my face and onto the top of her head. My house is never clean. Like ever. It really bothers me. The dishes, the laundry come in such massive amounts it makes me want to swear. And do you know what? Sometimes I do. I cried over every little thing. It went on and on. It felt good. I think the human body needs a good cry every now and then. It's cleansing and I recommend it.
Christian and the boys came home and interrupted my good cry. I tried to hide the fact I was crying but it didn't work. He is a good husband and wanted to make me feel better so he offered to do the dishes. Little did he know what I had in store. The next morning was Saturday and I slept in, when he came to check on me and make sure I wasn't totally off my rocker I announced that I would not be doing any motherly duties all day. I would not be managing chores, or feeding kids, or changing diapers. Zilch. I let him know I was taking the day off with Jane in tow and I would be back at 8pm in time for him to watch football, cause I'm a good wife like that.
So what did I do with my day off? I went on a walk. I listened to PG-13 music on my iPod. I went grocery shopping at Costco, and Walmart. I went to lunch at Chic Fil A. I did multiple loads of laundry, worked on organizing a storage room, and tended to baby Jane.
I did the same things I do almost every other day.
As it turns out, I really do love being a wife, and a mother. A homemaker. I'm a lousy one sometimes, but I am trying. My house is a mess most the time. I relish in the moments when it's not, even though those times are few. My children are mostly happy on most days. They love to play and make messes. So what. I had a good cry about it, and life went on as normal. Whatever normal is anyway.
Sometimes Frequently I am caught off guard by the life I have. I am startled that I have a husband and a home and five children! As of late I've wondered why I feel this way. I feel at times like I have created a life that I am not capable of. I feel guilt over helping myself to a husband and house full of children. I feel undeserving, and not qualified.
I am working on that....I'm starting to tell myself that I am capable and deserving! Not to mention the fact that it's to damn late to worry about my qualifications and all that mumbo jumbo now anyway. I mean what's done is done. And I'm pretty happy with it, albeit a tad, a large tad overwhelmed at times.
I've got this.
It's not perfect and that's okay.
It's okay.
Chances are your life isn't perfect either.  And that's okay too.
The End.