Y'all, it's been crazy over here.
I like to say "y'all" a lot now. I feel it is my right to use that word freely due to the fact that we now live in the country. Please don't give me a hard time about it- at least I haven't pulled a Madonna and adopted a fake accent. It's the small victories, right?
Speaking of small victories, I can unashamedly tell you that for the first time since I can even remember I am having a FREE day.
You guys!
My biggest concern right now is what to make for dinner, and I am relishing that fact. Little One is feverish and sick and laying next to me on the couch snoring softly. Bigger One is off at school, and I am sitting on the couch in my favorite leggings, left with a real and true moment of quiet.
What is happening.
Life has felt so busy, and so nonstop, and so many big and little changes have taken place, that I don't even know what end is up lately.
First things first: we moved! The Forever House is done and complete and we actually for reals live in it. This still makes me feel giddy even 6 weeks later. There is something about the views and the quietness of the country that does something good for the soul. We are happy here.
However, moving sucks an I don't ever want to do it again. That is all I'm going to say about that.
But having THIS as our backyard makes it all worth it!
Amidst packing and hauling and moving and unpacking, there was the minor (major) business of starting school schedules and new classrooms and teachers and new extracurricular activities, and then switching of those extracurricular activities, and houseguests- lots of houseguests, and birthdays, and trips to the emergency room to staple scalps (nothing about that last bit felt right to type out. Staples are for paper, not my tiny tender's head.)
It's been mostly go, go, go, and hurry, hurry, hurry, and work, work, work.
But TODAY!
There is no laundry to do, no children's Tylenol to administer, no dishes to do, no errands to run, no piles of things to carry upstairs and put away! There are still boxes to be unpacked but I have become very good at walking past them until I no longer register that they're even there. What can I say, it's my gift.
It would appear there is nothing pressing at the moment.
It almost frightened me at first, being so unfamiliar and all.
So I sat on the couch and stared off into space for a solid 17 minutes while I listened to Little One's snores, and then panicked because I had already wasted 17 minutes of my free day! But then I decided that those staring-off-into-space minutes were actually quite productive and maybe even good for my soul, and that immediately made me feel much better- despite the fact that I haven't even put on real shoes once today. Not even when I drove Bigger One to school this morning. That is the real state of affairs up in here.
I should tell you days like this are rare, but that's pretty much a foregone a conclusion.
(Confession: I love to say "foregone conclusion". I first heard it while watching The Thomas Crown Affair years ago and it stuck with me and ever since then I've been looking for ways to sneak it into a conversation. Something about Pierce Brosnan's tufts of chest hair blowing in the beachy air really imprinted that scene in my mind...whether I liked it or not. )
These days I feel like I have entered a new phase of life. A strange, new, busy season where my schedule, my brain, and my home are all constantly full. Luckily this oftentimes results in a full heart as well. Yet in all this busyness, somewhere in the recesses of my mind or the corners of my heart I knew enough to know that something was slipping away... and being replaced with something new. I think that "something" was my littles being little.
The boy, the baby, turned 5 last month and I sense with some amount of finality, that this was the end of an era. My littles are becoming bigs.
Gone are the diapers and chubby thighs. Gone is all manner of baby gear and toddler gear and binkies and wipes. All that's left is the ghost of a carseat. Okay fine, it's a real car seat. Slow your roll. The children are safe.
Gone are the endless morning snuggles... and setting up breakfast as a formal tea party at 9am because, why not?
Gone are the days of free schedules, and me deciding to go to the grocery store at whatever time of day I felt like it. Gone are the days of simply being with my little people all day.
Gone are naps.
Did you hear me?
GONE ARE THE NAPS!
Naps don't call. They don't send flowers. They didn't even have the guts to tell me to my face they were leaving. They just snuck out the back door, never to return. Naps are dead to me.
It is a bittersweet thing to realize that life is happening quickly, and that you've grown out of one phase and into another. Its bitter because I sometimes miss the baby stage in all its scary, new, sleepless glory, and I will never get it back.
Its sweet, because I daresay we have entered the actual "sweet spot" of child-rearing (where on earth did that phrase come from, anyway? I'm going to quote the movie Knocked Up here, because it seems relevant. It's the scene where they're all sitting in the waiting room awaiting the birth of the baby and one friend pipes in with some heartfelt mission statement to really stand by his buddy and help rear the child. Immediately followed by,
"Hey, stay away from this guy! He says he wants to help REAR your children!")
Ah, but I digress...The sweet spot! Yes! I think I've just arrived!
That spot where both of my kids (at ages 5 and almost 8) are both big enough to eat whatever, sleep wherever, communicate their feelings, brush their own teeth, play on their own, handle their own bathroom business, and even socialize like a regular person. They are old enough to be somewhat independent but little enough to still openly want my affection, believe whatever I tell them, and most importantly they are safely away from PUBERTY.
I really don't know much, but I'm fairly certain that by the time Puberty comes knocking, the "sweet spot" of parenting will have snuck out the back door along with Naps. They'll have run away together and they'll be drinking Coronas with lime on a beach together somewhere, laughing at me as they watch the sunset.
Luckily, not all nuances of Littledom have gone away.
The boy still runs around dangerously close to nude at all times, dragging his favorite blankie behind him. He really has a very low tolerance for clothes. He is fully convinced he can go on living life in his chonies. To his credit, so far he has gotten away with it. He still basically wants to cuddle me at any and every time of day. The beauty of that is not lost on me. I feel the full precious weight of that fact every time I feel the weight of his little head on my shoulder.
As for the girl...
The girl.
Where to start?
I am chuckling to myself (okay fine, cackling) right now as my sister's words ring in my ears. She used to always say something about the age of 8...what was it?...
Oh yes, that it's the most annoying age EVER!
Her kids are 18 and 13 now, so naturally I take her at her word. She has raised a whole person, after all. One whole kid. And that kid turned out pretty cool. I should've been taking notes! I should've asked more questions! Because now I have an almost 8 year old and I think I get it.
It's like their bodies are big so you are tricked into expecting them to be mature, or at least civilized most of the time. But inside they are still quite immature. They are starting to become more self aware, but not enough to escape being awkward. It's a strange time for us all.
She shows off now.
She has realized she is capable of getting a laugh, and that she LIKES this very much, and so now she often goes slightly too far to get that laugh. We'll say "Honey, stop that."..."No seriously, stop that, it's getting really annoying."
But she doesn't stop. She doesn't get it.
She is not quite self aware enough yet to know that she should be embarrassed by her tomfoolery so she just laughs at her own self and keeps right on doing whatever she's doing.
I catch her performing in the mirror.
To herself.
She is a pretty big fan of herself these days.
She sings dramatically and dances around and makes faces in the mirror...or the stove or the dishwasher or the car window or any reflective surface she can find.
She talks A LOT. And really fast.
I find this to be the most true at bedtime- that equally precious and heinous hour of night when you are torn between wanting to tenderly snuggle your children and wanting to turn off their lights, throw a cup of water at them, bolt for the door, and say a prayer as you run down the stairs before they can stall any longer. My kids are professional stallers.
I try to create time and space for them to say what's in their little hearts. And sometimes whispering it in the darkness of their bedrooms while I scratch their backs is the easiest way for them to do so.
I cherish these times. I do.
Except somewhere along the way, the girl has realized this is her moment and she pounces on it like a a shrewd cat. She senses when the prayers and the songs and the conversations about the day are dying down and before I can ease myself off the bed she'll burst out with something along the lines of, "Something happened on the playground and I want to talk to you about it!"
My mom radar is instantly up and on and making that "BEEDOO BEEDOO" minion sound.
I sit quickly back down and hold my breath because we all know that all the bad things happen on the playground or on the bus. Right? Is that an irrational fear? And then I watch her mind race to think of something, anything to say. It is often anything ranging from "Bryce farted!" followed by giggles, to some benign tale about how she snagged her tights on the big toy, and how she was just "so mortified". Real groundbreaking stuff.
I will say this though, for the girl.
Her heart is tender and open and bigger than her growing body. She worries for other's feelings. She is compassionate. She prays with a thankfulness and sincerity and maturity that rips my heart right open. There is rarely a day that goes by that she doesn't tell me she loves me "this much" and I am
"the best mommy ever."
I should record her saying this so I can play it back to her when she's 13.
She is open with her affection and she openly wants mine. She covets my time, my attention, and my approval and I will sorely miss it the day that she doesn't.
They are sweet and funny and innocent and tender.
They take good care of each other.
They are my little-big people and
these are the little things in life that really are big.
You guys!
My biggest concern right now is what to make for dinner, and I am relishing that fact. Little One is feverish and sick and laying next to me on the couch snoring softly. Bigger One is off at school, and I am sitting on the couch in my favorite leggings, left with a real and true moment of quiet.
What is happening.
Life has felt so busy, and so nonstop, and so many big and little changes have taken place, that I don't even know what end is up lately.
First things first: we moved! The Forever House is done and complete and we actually for reals live in it. This still makes me feel giddy even 6 weeks later. There is something about the views and the quietness of the country that does something good for the soul. We are happy here.
However, moving sucks an I don't ever want to do it again. That is all I'm going to say about that.
But having THIS as our backyard makes it all worth it!
It's been mostly go, go, go, and hurry, hurry, hurry, and work, work, work.
But TODAY!
There is no laundry to do, no children's Tylenol to administer, no dishes to do, no errands to run, no piles of things to carry upstairs and put away! There are still boxes to be unpacked but I have become very good at walking past them until I no longer register that they're even there. What can I say, it's my gift.
It would appear there is nothing pressing at the moment.
It almost frightened me at first, being so unfamiliar and all.
So I sat on the couch and stared off into space for a solid 17 minutes while I listened to Little One's snores, and then panicked because I had already wasted 17 minutes of my free day! But then I decided that those staring-off-into-space minutes were actually quite productive and maybe even good for my soul, and that immediately made me feel much better- despite the fact that I haven't even put on real shoes once today. Not even when I drove Bigger One to school this morning. That is the real state of affairs up in here.
I should tell you days like this are rare, but that's pretty much a foregone a conclusion.
(Confession: I love to say "foregone conclusion". I first heard it while watching The Thomas Crown Affair years ago and it stuck with me and ever since then I've been looking for ways to sneak it into a conversation. Something about Pierce Brosnan's tufts of chest hair blowing in the beachy air really imprinted that scene in my mind...whether I liked it or not. )
These days I feel like I have entered a new phase of life. A strange, new, busy season where my schedule, my brain, and my home are all constantly full. Luckily this oftentimes results in a full heart as well. Yet in all this busyness, somewhere in the recesses of my mind or the corners of my heart I knew enough to know that something was slipping away... and being replaced with something new. I think that "something" was my littles being little.
The boy, the baby, turned 5 last month and I sense with some amount of finality, that this was the end of an era. My littles are becoming bigs.
Gone are the diapers and chubby thighs. Gone is all manner of baby gear and toddler gear and binkies and wipes. All that's left is the ghost of a carseat. Okay fine, it's a real car seat. Slow your roll. The children are safe.
Gone are the endless morning snuggles... and setting up breakfast as a formal tea party at 9am because, why not?
Gone are the days of free schedules, and me deciding to go to the grocery store at whatever time of day I felt like it. Gone are the days of simply being with my little people all day.
Gone are naps.
Did you hear me?
GONE ARE THE NAPS!
Naps don't call. They don't send flowers. They didn't even have the guts to tell me to my face they were leaving. They just snuck out the back door, never to return. Naps are dead to me.
It is a bittersweet thing to realize that life is happening quickly, and that you've grown out of one phase and into another. Its bitter because I sometimes miss the baby stage in all its scary, new, sleepless glory, and I will never get it back.
Its sweet, because I daresay we have entered the actual "sweet spot" of child-rearing (where on earth did that phrase come from, anyway? I'm going to quote the movie Knocked Up here, because it seems relevant. It's the scene where they're all sitting in the waiting room awaiting the birth of the baby and one friend pipes in with some heartfelt mission statement to really stand by his buddy and help rear the child. Immediately followed by,
"Hey, stay away from this guy! He says he wants to help REAR your children!")
Ah, but I digress...The sweet spot! Yes! I think I've just arrived!
That spot where both of my kids (at ages 5 and almost 8) are both big enough to eat whatever, sleep wherever, communicate their feelings, brush their own teeth, play on their own, handle their own bathroom business, and even socialize like a regular person. They are old enough to be somewhat independent but little enough to still openly want my affection, believe whatever I tell them, and most importantly they are safely away from PUBERTY.
I really don't know much, but I'm fairly certain that by the time Puberty comes knocking, the "sweet spot" of parenting will have snuck out the back door along with Naps. They'll have run away together and they'll be drinking Coronas with lime on a beach together somewhere, laughing at me as they watch the sunset.
Luckily, not all nuances of Littledom have gone away.
The boy still runs around dangerously close to nude at all times, dragging his favorite blankie behind him. He really has a very low tolerance for clothes. He is fully convinced he can go on living life in his chonies. To his credit, so far he has gotten away with it. He still basically wants to cuddle me at any and every time of day. The beauty of that is not lost on me. I feel the full precious weight of that fact every time I feel the weight of his little head on my shoulder.
As for the girl...
The girl.
Where to start?
I am chuckling to myself (okay fine, cackling) right now as my sister's words ring in my ears. She used to always say something about the age of 8...what was it?...
Oh yes, that it's the most annoying age EVER!
Her kids are 18 and 13 now, so naturally I take her at her word. She has raised a whole person, after all. One whole kid. And that kid turned out pretty cool. I should've been taking notes! I should've asked more questions! Because now I have an almost 8 year old and I think I get it.
It's like their bodies are big so you are tricked into expecting them to be mature, or at least civilized most of the time. But inside they are still quite immature. They are starting to become more self aware, but not enough to escape being awkward. It's a strange time for us all.
She shows off now.
She has realized she is capable of getting a laugh, and that she LIKES this very much, and so now she often goes slightly too far to get that laugh. We'll say "Honey, stop that."..."No seriously, stop that, it's getting really annoying."
But she doesn't stop. She doesn't get it.
She is not quite self aware enough yet to know that she should be embarrassed by her tomfoolery so she just laughs at her own self and keeps right on doing whatever she's doing.
I catch her performing in the mirror.
To herself.
She is a pretty big fan of herself these days.
She sings dramatically and dances around and makes faces in the mirror...or the stove or the dishwasher or the car window or any reflective surface she can find.
She talks A LOT. And really fast.
I find this to be the most true at bedtime- that equally precious and heinous hour of night when you are torn between wanting to tenderly snuggle your children and wanting to turn off their lights, throw a cup of water at them, bolt for the door, and say a prayer as you run down the stairs before they can stall any longer. My kids are professional stallers.
I try to create time and space for them to say what's in their little hearts. And sometimes whispering it in the darkness of their bedrooms while I scratch their backs is the easiest way for them to do so.
I cherish these times. I do.
Except somewhere along the way, the girl has realized this is her moment and she pounces on it like a a shrewd cat. She senses when the prayers and the songs and the conversations about the day are dying down and before I can ease myself off the bed she'll burst out with something along the lines of, "Something happened on the playground and I want to talk to you about it!"
My mom radar is instantly up and on and making that "BEEDOO BEEDOO" minion sound.
I sit quickly back down and hold my breath because we all know that all the bad things happen on the playground or on the bus. Right? Is that an irrational fear? And then I watch her mind race to think of something, anything to say. It is often anything ranging from "Bryce farted!" followed by giggles, to some benign tale about how she snagged her tights on the big toy, and how she was just "so mortified". Real groundbreaking stuff.
I will say this though, for the girl.
Her heart is tender and open and bigger than her growing body. She worries for other's feelings. She is compassionate. She prays with a thankfulness and sincerity and maturity that rips my heart right open. There is rarely a day that goes by that she doesn't tell me she loves me "this much" and I am
"the best mommy ever."
I should record her saying this so I can play it back to her when she's 13.
She is open with her affection and she openly wants mine. She covets my time, my attention, and my approval and I will sorely miss it the day that she doesn't.
They are sweet and funny and innocent and tender.
They take good care of each other.
They are my little-big people and
these are the little things in life that really are big.
No comments:
Post a Comment