Monday, August 26, 2019

Childhood

I can feel it slipping through my fingers.  Every day something disappears.  No more barbies, goodbye building blocks, we have stored all of our princess costumes, and only have a couple of stuffed animals left on their beds.  I am squeezing every ounce of joy I can from them in these precious days.  I am grateful every time they come running through the house shooting nerf guns (even if I fuss about it), every time they jump on their scooters or bikes and take off down the road.  They still run and jump through sprinklers as though they think they will take off and fly, they could sit and swing all day, and love to play hide and seek.  We still build blanket and pillow forts all over their rooms, cuddle up in bed to watch Disney movies, and love to play a game of Life or Clue.  They're still excited when I have cookies or a special treat after school, and get supper pumped when McDonald's has new toys in their happy meals.  They still want to go grab icecream and play at the park, and ask to have sleepovers at their grandparents.  Right now, they still love being with us.

But it's fading.  They're growing up.  I know the days of laughing at dad running and jumping through the sprinklers with them are coming to an end.  They won't always want to cuddle and watch movies with us, or prefer to spend their Friday night eating pizza and playing board games.  Soon they will trade in those scooters and a game of tag with the neighborhood kids, for cars and nights at the football field. They won't want to read together, or ask me to fix their hair in the morning.  Soon this precious chapter of our lives with them will come to a close.  It's sneaking up on us, and fast.  So I am soaking it all in.

I am grateful they've held on to their youth.  I see so many their age acting more like they are 20, instead of 9.  Some days I wish they would be more mature, but then I am reminded they have time for that.  They'll have a lot longer to be a "grown up", so I am going to let them be kids for however long they need and want to be.  I am going to let them run through the house laughing and yelling, watch them learn to skate, and take off on their scooters.  We will color chalk on the driveway, play HORSE with the basketball, and blow bubbles during warm afternoons.  We will let them be kids.

Wednesday, May 15, 2019

Intent

Today I watched my 7 year old overcome a big fear, and conquer his anxiety.  He apologized.  It seems so small, but how often to we ever want to say we are sorry.  For some reason we have linked the words "I am sorry", to mean "I am wrong".

Let me back up.  Yesterday there was an incident.  While I did not see what happened, I was given enough details from him, and my always willing to tattle, I mean help, daughter.  Parker was clearly playing a bit to boisterous with some of the neighborhood kids.  While in his mind he really was just playing, I think he maybe forgot to explain the game and what was going on.  Superhero and villain reenactments can get intense pretty fast. 

He took Lena's "help" as him getting in trouble.  So after a good 30 minutes of an all out screaming and crying tantrum, he calmed down.  I tried to take the opportunity to explain to him that sometimes people don't understand what our intent is.  We have to be clear.  If we aren't feelings can get hurt pretty fast. 

I have one rule that I try my hardest to stick to with my family.  We ALWAYS apologize.  Not just for being wrong.  We do so because it's the right thing to do.  Even if we feel justified in our actions, our actions still have an affect on people around us.  We have to take responsibility for hurting someone, even if we never meant to.

It was a big win today.  When he saw the boy outside as we pulled in our driveway, he mentioned that now may be a good time to apologize.  I watched him ride his scooter up to the kid, then come back to the house crying.  He was afraid of being judged, and embarrassed because he was apologizing.  I sat with him and let him know that the absolute bravest thing he can ever do in his life is to admit he made a mistake, and to apologize.  He cried, I made him giggle, and he walked up to the boy.  "I am sorry about yesterday.  I was just trying to play a game with you."  The other boy said that's ok, and life went on.

He won't remember the lesson we did on the food chain, or the math equations we wrote out, but today I hope he takes a lesson away with him.  I hope he always humbles himself.  I hope he can admit when he messes up, and acknowledges that.  I hope that he can see that feelings, relationships, people are so much more important than being right. 

Tuesday, May 7, 2019

People..

We don't drive the newest model vehicles, or live in a mansion. I could care less about the newest iPhone, and refuse to let my children on social media.  My kids don't play 20 different sports, or speak three languages.  We don't jet set to Paris, or California for our weekends.  My closet consists of Target t-shirts, one pair of shorts that currently fits, and odds and ends from department stores, sales, and consignment finds.  I don't buy a new name brand handbag every season (unless it's Dillard's sale), and you won't often find my fingers and toes perfectly manicured.  I don't have a massive circle of friends, or some large social media following.  We don't have boats, or toys, or hobby's that take time away from home every weekend.

What I do have is a loving husband.  A man who is without a doubt my absolute best friend in this world.  Three beautiful, and healthy (most days) kids who are kind, loving, unique, and perfect for us.  I have a wonderful family who offers their love and support to not only me, but my husband and my children.  I have a church full of people I have loved my entire life.  A praying group of people who I know would be there whenever the need came. 

We spend our afternoons sitting in fold out chairs watching our kids ride scooters, or playing board games at our dining room table.  We cook meals at home, or order take out.  We make time to visit grandparents and try to teach our kids the importance of slowing down.  We take long drives through the countryside, just to talk, and frequent Sonic for slushes and icecream. 

The minivan I drive is covered in crumbs, shoes, and school work and has heard a lot of laughter, and fights.  When free time is presented I want to spend it with my husband.  In this season of life, time alone is uncommon, and precious. 

Things are just that, things.  Hobby's are just that, hobby's.  But people, people are precious.  People, our relationships are a gift from God.  I'd rather know in my last days that the people who meant the most to me didn't know that I love them because I said it, but because I showed it.  I want to wake up every day and pour myself into my family and the relationships that mean the most.  When I look back at moments and times, it's not where we were, what we were doing, but who we were with that made them so special. 


Wednesday, May 1, 2019

Imperfect Mommin...

I had it all together.  I was that mom.  I always turned in permission slips or school forms the day after they were sent home.  I checked backpacks every single night, and washed them  no less than monthly.  My kids were bathed every morning, and sent to school in adorable outfits, hair fixed and all.  I was NEVER late to school activities, volunteered and absurd amount of my time, kept groceries stocked, beds made, and laundry caught up.

Enter baby #3.  I noped right out of who I used to be so fast!  I can not, repeat, CAN NOT keep my laundry caught up.  Somehow this tiny person has quadrupled our laundry in take.  I forget, on the regular, to check my kids' backpacks.  Do you know how many birthday party invites I have found crumpled up in the bottom of those black holes they wear on their backs?  I finally went through Lena's the other day and found not one, not two, but THREE of my forks.  She likes to take peaches for snack.  I wrote down the wrong time for her dance performance.  We got there with 5 minutes to spare before she took the field.  Oopsies.. And do not get my started about our morning routine.  There have been days my kids have gone to school looking like a hot mess.  My mother would be so ashamed.

I do not know what happened when that baby came along, but my brain shut down.  Admittedly, I still make our beds every day, and keep groceries decently stocked.  So what if we have eaten peanut butter for breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the last week.  We ate didn't we!?

Having more kids will definitely knock you off your high horse real fast.  You let go of the things that aren't important, and learn to just love your kids more.  Who cares if my kids can't speak mandarin, play the saxophone, and already know algebra before the 3rd grade.  They are loved, unconditionally.

I am much more protective of my time.  I still give when I can/want, but have let go of the guilt when I choose to spend the free hour I can find once a month on something I want to do, like nap.  I say no more.  A word that used to send me into a panic attack.  I've let go of what others think I should be when it comes to being mom, and have found a peace in who I am.  I am not perfect, or pinterest worthy.  We enjoy watching movies in the king bed, and eat pizza way too much.  We yell, and fight on a daily, and the bigs probably spend more time on technology then they should.  We take long walks and are completely open and honest with our kids.  We let them climb into our beds at night to cuddle.  My husband and I can't remember the last "date" night we had.  We steal time together in the mornings over coffee while the 3 are still snoozing, or late at night watching Jimmy Fallon on YouTube, with 1,2...or all sleeping between us.

This stage of life is hard.  I have been down the baby/toddler aisle a couple of times now.  The kid stage has it's own unique struggles.  But this time is so short, I've been down that aisle too.  So I am letting go of that perfect image.  I will still have a panic attack when I write a date down wrong, and still harbor an unhealthy amount of guilt if I can't make it to a school function, and I may occasionally worry about what others are whispering behind my back.  That's ok. 

To the mom riding on the struggle bus today, you are amazing.  You are just enough right where you are.  Anyone who says otherwise, well just stay away from them.  Those aren't your people!  Find you a group who will love you in your imperfect struggles and ride along beside you on that bus!


Monday, April 29, 2019

The Hard Days

I can't find my anxiety medication.  Part of me thinks I threw it out a while ago, thinking I was doing ok.  I am sure at the time I was, but today, today I need help.  Today I am struggling to smile through the tears.  Today my heart and chest are so tight, it's all I can do not to throw up and huddle in a corner.

I am not a "needy" person by nature.  When I am sick I want to be left alone.  I often joke that labor would have been easier if I had been by myself, and in the joke is a hint of honesty.  I over think, over process, over feel.  Sometimes it's just too much to handle on my own.

I dealt with anxiety as a child.  We didn't know what it was.  To most I was probably just over dramatic and a worrier.  As an adult it's affected my life and many of the decisions I make.  Taking road trips with my family is really hard.  All I can see is the danger.  I often times have a hard time even being happy and enjoying a vacation because I know there is a drive home looming in the not so distant future.  Sometimes I medicate, most of the time I monitor any caffeine in take, and every time I breathe....and breathe and breathe.

I tip toe around people and feelings because I can't stand the thought of someone being upset or disappointed with me.  I overthink every single interaction I have with people.  It's become easier to just keep to myself.  Often times keeping feelings bottled in causes an explosion during moments that exploding doesn't make any sense.

I frustrate my husband because I overthink, and over process things.  He worries about little and has enough faith to feed the world.  I am worse when it comes to my kids.  The worry I carry around is suffocating during the best days.

My son has anxiety.  I laid in bed holding him while we both cried last night.  He was trying to process and understand a situation that happened, and to most it's not a big deal, but to him it was the only important thing that happened that day.  He cries and yells a lot.  I know it's because his anxiety disguises itself as fear.  His body is reacting as though he is terrified, most days, and he can't understand why.  There is therapy, we've done it.  We are in the process of looking for a new therapist.  We have used oils, yoga, unplugged electronics, went for runs.  All temporary reliefs.  We could medicate, but I want him to learn coping mechanisms before he relies on drugs. That's a rabbit hole I am not ready to navigate through. It's a harder route to take, it's a struggle every single day.  It doesn't help my own mental stability watching him suffer.

Most days I feel like I have failed more than I have succeeded.  My husband asked what having anxiety felt like.  The best description I could muster up was how you feel walking through a haunted house.  You know something scary is just about to happen, but you don't know when.  Only there's never any release, it doesn't make you laugh, and even the good days worry you, because you don't know how long they will last.

I never fully feel like myself.  Either my mental and emotional state make the day to day a bit harder, or I medicate and I am numb.  The thing about a lot of the medication that most won't talk about is how numb you feel.  The fear is gone, but for me so was the joy.  I am in a constant state of neutrality when I am on my medication.  What kind of way is that to live?

I am not looking for sympathy, or pity, or attention.  I am just being honest.  I am just shouting that you are not alone.  Sometimes life feels damn near impossible.  Some days are amazing, some days are hard.  Today, today was harder than most.  Today I needed a little extra love.  My hope lies in tomorrow.  Tomorrow, will be better.


Wednesday, March 20, 2019

Dr. Google....



I'm up.  It's 10:19, by all accounts in my home it is late.  We are big bedtime peeps around here.  Our sleep begins around 8.  It keeps the sanity.  But here I am, up.  Not only am I up, but I am sick.  So sick I had the hubs take the boys to his grandparents today, because there was no way I could take care of myself and them.  Every single part of my my body ached through the night.  I can feel my heartbeat through my throat, my ears are about to explode, anytime someone touches me it hurts, and to top it off I have a mysterious ache in my lower belly.  I gave birth without any pain medication, and didn't cry, yet somehow this ailment had my sobbing.

I tried all day to ignore feeling sick.  Even without the kids around, I couldn't slack on responsibilities.  So in between the ibuprofen and tylenol and sweating I cleaned.  It was slow going.  At one point I could hear this small faint voice trying to tell me I wasn't feel well, but I squashed that negativity immediately.

This must be a mom thing.  I love my husband, and would say most days I adore him.  But I can say without a doubt that in our decade long marriage I have never seen him power through sickness and clean.  I have seen him lay on the couch in the middle of the house and whine anytime a kid came near him.  GET IN THE BED, LOCK THE DOOR!!!

Why are we so hesitant to give ourselves a break?  I can't speak for the working mom, I stay at home.  I absolutely can not have a day without the beds made, floors decent, and everything wiped down.  Most days I do a load or two of laundry.  Pile this on top of taking care of a baby, now homeschooling, and any other random errand I have to get done for the day.  I don't get a lot of time to myself. It's rare that I am running a fever and still don't have a child to tend to.   I would love to say that I am ok with that, but I really think it's just my normal and I don't know any different.  I am terrible about getting a free hour and spending it shopping for a kid, or groceries.  I should be napping in one of those massage chairs in the mall.

Free time to me means a bubble bath and a book, or pinterest.  Usually with an audience full of a million questions that their father doesn't seem to have the answer to, or my husband sitting next to the tub.

This season of life is short lived.  This I know. I know how fast your babies become your kids.  I shutter to think at how quickly my kids will become adults.  Fast or not, I have to do better about taking care of myself.  Especially since I have googled all my current symptoms and it's pretty clear I have West Nile....

Friday, March 8, 2019

Now..



I had this grand idea of rebooting my blog, creating a new instagram, and submerging myself in projects that fuel my creative side.  Instead, life happened.  Our mid kid, Parker, got sick.  On Sunday we battled pink eye and an ear infection, by Tuesday he had contracted the flu.  We sent him back to school the following Monday, only to have to pick him up by lunch with a high fever.  The following day we found out he had pnuemonia.  Fast forward another week and he was running a constant fever of 104 and ended up in the ER by that Friday.  Dehydration, low potassium, and an apparent false negative on a strep test earlier that week had made our guy really, REALLY sick. 

This has been a school year.  He has caught a stomach bug no less that 5 times, strep 3, and was diagnosed with sleep apnea.  The kid is exhausted.  So I made a decision to keep him home.  We are officially homeschooling.  After a week I have learned that my boy is hungry and extremely tired.  I am praying it helps him get the rest and recovery his body so desperately needs at this point.

So I have zero clue where we are going to end up with this blog.  I guess I will just see where the day to day takes us.

Happy Friday friends!!
This Southern Belle
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