Category Archives: Raising Boys (to be productive members of society)

Our Darling Boy

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The last three weeks have been filled with fevers, coughing, headaches, sleepless nights, lot’s of tissues, cough drops, and smoothies from the freezer section at Costco.

Being a parent is wonderful. There is no equivalent. However, adding sick kiddos and mama getting sick to the mix increases the difficulty significantly.

Amidst all the runny noses, sneezes and sore throats there was something to celebrate…Riley's Happy Birthday hat

Caden turned 5. Five years old! My baby. He claims he is no longer a baby and he’s right, but he will always be my baby.

The morning started with Chris’ delicious Belgian waffles. Caden was elated and smiled throughout our Happy Birthday song.

It was time for making wishes, blowing out candles and feeling the first bit of sugar entering the system as maple syrup.

Next came the gifts, of which his favorite was the Angry Bird fan filled with candy from Aunt Carrie. He also loved the Lego’s and always enjoys putting them together with his daddy.1,000 piecesNew LegosFiretruckThe highlight of his afternoon was celebrating with fro-yo from Yoforia. What better for a sore throat? The other patrons joined us in singing. It was so fun!

We enjoyed dinner backwards as after Yoforia we went for “fancy” hotdogs. Mine was veggie and it was delicious.


The next week we celebrated with school friends which properly completed the festivities of transitioning Caden into his 5th year.

I realize this has been a total “Mommy post” which is somewhat out of the norm for my writings. I’m under the weather, making me more vulnerable to the sappy side. You won’t hold it against me, will you?

And let’s be honest…I’m insanely proud of my boys and sometimes it’s therapeutic to share my adoration so that I don’t explode.

This Day

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Pure JoySome days just flow.
The kids don’t whine when waked up for school.
Breakfast is on the table when they come down with sleepy eyes and bed head.
They change into their clothes without being asked.
Lunches are packed.
Clean socks are waiting by shoes.
Jackets are on.
And they’re off for another day of learning and growing.
Walking out into a day paved with faith as we release them into the impeccable care of their Heavenly Father.
The house is quiet now.
The hum of the dryer is all that is heard.
The sun peeks through the clouds as snowflakes fall, quickly melting on impact.
The house is warm.
Smells of coffee and burnt cinnamon fill the air, rising to the ceiling.
It’s another day. Filled with endless possibilities. More than can be embraced.
My lips curve into a smile with teeth.
So this is grace.
This is the undeserved and grossly underrated exuberance of God.
This is the beauty of second chances.
This is light and hope. Blessings and goodness all swirled into normal.
May I remember this moment on the not so smooth days when the children whine from dawn to dusk and the pantry isn’t stocked from my lack of grocery shopping.
When there are no clean clothes and every step is a struggle.
I want to remember this warmth and calm of a peaceful heart at home.

All but Ordinary

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My babesI reach over to stroke his hair, purposefully avoiding his forehead. I’m almost afraid to check his temperature. The fever that set in days ago has been relentless, holding steady between 102 – 104.

The stars from the turtle nightlight illuminate the ceiling as they have for almost 5 years, stretching themselves across the door-frame, windows and closet door.

Why does it take sickness to slow me down? It reboots my perspective like nothing else. Lying in this bed, converted three times now, from crib to toddler to full size, on the jersey sheets, the whole world is right here in this moment. It’s quiet. The only sound is congested breathing from my almost 5-year-old and the patterned sleepy sounds of my 6-year-old in the bed next to his.

I find myself asking, “What did I accomplish today?”

I turn and look at my beautiful boys. The silhouette of their peaceful faces not hidden by the darkness.

I did what no one else on this earth could do the way I can. I soothed a sick little boy. I listened to the goings on of a 1st graders day while overseeing his homework. I prayed for physical healing and restoration. I fed, bathed, brushed the teeth and tucked in two little blessings dressed as my sons. I sang songs and rubbed warm, fever ridden backs and I thanked God for grace. I thanked Him for this incredible life of motherhood, redemption and unconditional love that is in fact…anything but ordinary.

This is the first time in several months I have participated in #FiveMinuteFriday. I am reminded of why I love this community so much. Wanna play? Here’s the skinny…5-minute-friday
1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking.
2. Link back here and invite others to join in.
3. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is, like, the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community..

The Mother is always to blame

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Ri focusedI listen as his small, sweet voice sounds out the words to one of his favorite books, wishing I could bottle and save it for a day much later than this, when he has grown into a man and his voice is deep and strong.

“The days are long but the years are short.” This is the epitome of that truth.

I spent the night before lying at the foot of his bed listening to his painful groans from the headache preventing his body from resting. I placed my hand on his little leg that now seems so big compared to the last time I was praying intense prayers for healing. “God, please…please lay your hand on his small frame and provide complete restoration. God, please…direct my steps to know how to properly care for him. Don’t let me miss one sign that he needs medical attention. You are the Great Physician, the Ultimate Healer. I believe you will do what you say you will do, so as I stand here with empty hands, open in reverence to you, I am thanking you for what you have already done.”

Throughout my prayer distracting thoughts are invading my mind. “What if the headache is something more? What if you don’t get to a hospital in time? What if it’s meningitis like the little boy had who passed away not long ago?” and on and on it goes.This may sound dramatic and I am a bit that.

To see such a shift in behavior from this energetic, almost 7-year-old, to this lifeless, sleepy, curled up child was shocking. Why does it take something like this to make me ask myself, “Why don’t I enjoy every moment of his energy?!” Why when my child is sick, does it make me question every motive I’ve had for the last 6 years of his life. Why does it make me feel like a horrible, neglectful mother?

This night, he is a little better. The fever has now set in and he shivers as the warmth from his body attempts to warm the cool sheets of his bed. I go to kiss his forehead and he says, “Mom, will you pray?”

“Yes, Darling. I just prayed. Did I miss something?”

“Will you pray for me to feel better and that Caden won’t get sick?”

I sat down on his bed and took his hand. “God, thank you. Thank you for Riley and his faith in you. Thank you for his energy and life. Thank you that he’s mine. Please heal him. Thank you for healing him. We know you are faithful to fulfill all promises made so we proclaim your goodness and thank you for his complete healing. Please keep Caden safe from sickness and pain. Father, we know all required of us is that we ask for what you will so willingly give. Thank you. You are strong and powerful God, Creator of the Universe, and yet you pause to meet us here. Thank you. We trust you. We believe you. We love you. In Jesus name, Amen.”

“I’ve never heard you pray like that before.” Ri says.
“Really?” I respond. “Is that bad or good?”
Long pause…”It’s good!…I think? I don’t know yet?” He says as he turns on his left side and pulls the covers up to his ears.

“Okay buddy. Time for sleep.”

“Okay, mom. Night. Oh, hey, mom.”

“Yes, love?”

“Do you know how come I can run so fast?”

“How?”

“When I wanna get somewhere, I run, and there’s no slow down or off switch. I only know how to go fast.”

“I can definitely see that, Ri. You are a great runner.” I say in response.

“Yeah, I am.” he says sleepily.

“Goodnight boys. I love you.”

“Goodnight, mama.” Air kisses fly back and forth across the dark room before I start down the stairs.

“The days are long, but the years are short.” This statement made by a brilliant mom of 3 has never rung more true to me. There will be no bottling up of sweet voices, only memories and those are only as accurate as my mind portrays them to be.

I want to savor these moments of childhood before I look around and they’re gone.

What do you think? Does your mind immediately go to the worst scenario when your child(ren) is sick? Do you pray more when you feel desperate? Why is that? What can we do, especially as mothers, to relinquish control on a daily, sometimes hourly basis?

 

One big beautiful mess

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Typically the words mess and beautiful are not associated. For me, they are. You are entering one of the most private places in my life. The inner room. My sanctuary. My retreat from the noisy world. My transport to creativity.

Here it is…MessDoesn’t look much like an inner sanctum, does it?

The chair that holds the mountain of laundry is my writing chair. It’s where I sit and let my mind breathe. It’s where I go for my decompression session of one. As you have already guessed it’s impossible to write in this space when it looks like this. It’s also completely overwhelming to think about where even to start.

I’ve been doing it for years. Washing clothes and piling them in a place that is out of visitor’s view, where I can return later to sort, fold and put away. With five people in the house it’s not that easy and the bigger the pile, the more the stress grows.

It reminds me of my inner turmoil. I can hide it from the outside world for a while. I can close the door to that room so you can’t see inside. But eventually it spills over into other areas and it’s not as easy to hide anymore.

This mess begins to affect my morning routine when I’m getting ready for work. My evening when I come home from a long day. Intimacy with my man as it is an eyesore in our bedroom. I can only step over it, dig through it and make excuses for so long until I’m forced to look directly at it, admit the toll it is taking on my mental, spiritual and emotional health and commit to cleaning it up. It’s the wreckage of my present and it’s ugly.

I have discovered a system for seeing it through from start to finish. It’s called the “circle of serenity.”
circleI have to get right in the middle of it, hunker down and start sorting. If I stick to it, soon I have neat piles, assigned by owner. Before attempting to put anything away, everything must be sorted and folded. Sounds simple right?

It really isn’t very different from my mind. I have to do the same thing with thoughts and emotions. They pile up as well. Often times requiring sitting down and committing to sorting things out.

There are many other things I would rather be doing, but when I reach the end result I am always grateful for the process.
CleanAh, that’s the chair I know and love. The one that envelopes me and summons the artist within. My little corner of the world where I can process, meditate and be restored to a healthy place.

What about you? Can you relate to my sabotaging one of the few places I find peace?

Five Minute Friday: Stay

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Words, quotes, statements, pleas, heartbreak, uncontrolled happiness… all flooded my mind when I read Lisa-Jo’s Five Minute Friday prompt.

Stay.

How many times and in how many ways do I use this word?

With my husband;
Can’t you stay in bed a little longer.
Can you stay with the boys while I run some errands.
Thank you for staying even when it wasn’t easy.
I could stay right here, in this moment with you forever.
Where will we stay when we go to __________?

With my children;
Stay right there! Don’t move!
I wish I could stay with you at school all day. It would be so fun!
We are going to stay with family when we go to California.
I wish you could stay this little forever.
Papaw is coming to stay for a few days!

I have so many uses for this word stay. Some healthy, others not so much. Regardless of the category in which they fall I have learned much about this word, my interpretation and the way I use it with others.

With Chris it’s, “Don’t leave yet. Stay.” What I’m really saying is, “I feel insecure. Please don’t leave me.”

When I tell my children I wish they would “stay little forever” it’s not really what I mean. I want them to grow and thrive and live life to the fullest.

Many times the things I wish could stay the same must evolve for my betterment. I don’t always see it, or want it for that matter, but it must. Few things stay the same and I am quite certain I wouldn’t want them to. Nothing but the Father’s love and faithfulness. Upon those I can rely, build my future and speak my truth. All else stays for a time and is gone.

My five minutes are up! Thanks for stopping by.

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Among the thorns

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I have walked into a time of my life that is busier than any I have known before. 24 hours doesn’t seem to be enough to get everything done that needs doing. Plates are spinning high above my head on the imaginary poles I balance. And not well, mind you. The sound of china shattering happens more often than I’d like, but for the most part, I keep up the insidious act of holding it all together.

Recently I found myself asking, “Who am I…really?” “What will unfold over the next several months as I plunge into uncharted territory?” (For those of you wondering what I’m talking about, I will be leaving my current job position that I have become extremely comfortable in and exploring other opportunities at the end of December. It’s terrifying and exciting all at the same time.) What will I do, you ask. Well…I’m figuring that out.

I’m a writer.
A lover of words.
A poet at heart.
A romantic in the deepest sense of the word.
I love change.
I have fallen in love with photography.
I no longer see the world the way I once saw it.
I feel closer to God…looking at life through my lens.
The details that I never noticed now become impossible to miss.
And I will never see, even the smallest insect the same way again.

There is one place I love to go when I am stressed. This past weekend I didn’t even know I wanted to, but Chris knew I needed to go. It had been two very long work days and I was exhausted, but still eager to walk into my sanctuary of nature.

I had my camera, but didn’t plan on taking any pictures as I had been strategically photographing for several hours before I arrived. And then I stepped into one of the green houses.
Beams of sunlight streamed in across the plants and brick flooring.
The mist of humidity made it seem like you could hold the light in your hands.

It was magical and serene. It was beautiful and fragile.
It was an opportunity to be in the moment. To see God in all things. To inhale deeply and freely.

Nothing empty’s a life of the beauty of the moment faster than hurry. Call it what you will, but I believe it was God’s way of not only telling me, but showing me that his light will penetrate through absolutely anything. There’s no stopping it. There’s no hiding it. It will be made known, exposing not only the dirt and dust, but the beauty and luster of creation.

As I turned another corner, there it was again. Only in a different way. The light that pushes its way through that which tries to contain it. God knows that many times for me things have to be made blatantly obvious before I will recognize them for what they are. Before I will acknowledge the gift and the Giver.

The tension across my shoulders loosened and the stress melted away. I wasn’t anywhere else in the world. I was exactly where my feet were. In that moment. In the streams of sunlight accentuating the different shades of green on the leaves. The long slender vines stood out in a way they never had.
Okay, God, you have my attention.

From that point on, as I walked through the place I have been a dozen times before, it was as if I had never seen the surroundings. I would get lost in the detail of an orchid or the ripples of water in the copper basin. I allowed the scents of flowers in their last season of bloom to fill my nostrils and relax my mind.

As I walked 10 more steps or so, the most beautiful sight came into view.
My boys were drenched in sunlight. I watched as they moved their hands back and forth through the beams, laughing and squinting their eyes while looking up for the source of light. The tops of their heads appeared to be glowing. I couldn’t help but laugh. God, I am so undeserving of such beauty and blessings. The fact that you would give a wretch like me a day like this one proves that you are a God of mercy and grace. Thank you…Father…Thank you.

There is something God whispered to me continually through every petal, leaf, blade of grass and beam of sunlight. It was this…You are mine. Treasured. Sacred. Adored. Heir to the throne of grace. Child of the King. This life that you toil so to figure out has already been decided. This time that you say is not enough is in fact fleeting. These moments of little boys with faces full of wonder is just that, a moment. Rest. Listen. Breathe. All will be well.

I truly believe that it will.

Here are some of the beautiful captures of the day. I would encourage you to take a moment as you look through these pictures to remind yourself of how valuable you are to the Creator of all things. Blessings to you on this journey, my friend.

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