Sweet Spot

This summer has been such a parenting sweet spot. I have always been a baby and toddler person, but I quickly learned that having my own babies and toddlers was an awe-inspiring but unrelenting task. As my babies have grown into young children, I have discovered that I not only love them more with each passing day, I enjoy each new stage more, too. And I am head over heels in love with their current stage. Seriously, I can’t get over how cool it is to have a five year old and a three year old.

Five is truly my new favorite age. Emma is happy much of the time, sweet almost always, funny and creative in remarkable ways, and altogether lovely. Though she has her moments like any kid, she absolutely brightens our home daily. When I had a stomach bug earlier this week, she made me the most beautiful card that she thought of herself, found the supplies for, decorated, and wrote, all without any help: “EMMA LOVES MOMMY. LOVE [picture of a heart] EMMA AND LILY.” She enthusiastically pointed out that she wrote her letters in my favorite color, blue. On the inside, she drew our family, all holding hands under a bright and golden sun. She gave me a very colorful and stylish dress. On the back, she drew a sun with a big “MOM” underneath. I mean, five years of round the clock care can’t even buy that kind of love. I melted. Though I was feeling pretty rough, it cheered me up the instant I saw it and her proud, beaming face. The card also symbolized why this stage of parenting isn’t quite as exhausting. She is beginning to do things herself and do them well. She is able to get herself dressed, can help get out her snack if I am busy, and can even buckle herself in her car seat. Small victories, maybe, but a world of help when it is often 2 kids to 1 adult trying to get somewhere.

Emma is also so creative. She and Lily play a Memory game, “I Never Forget a Face,” that has multicultural pictures of people from around the globe. They both confidently name each person’s country of origin: “Haiti, Afghanistan, Tanzania, Bolivia, Russia, Scotland,” and on and on. They both start laughing when they come to Hawaii, saying, “Hawaii’s not a country!” They love their new game, which they were given as a gift last month. Well, this week, like many families around the globe, we have been watching the Olympics. Being a teacher, I wanted to get out a map so that they could see where each athlete came from. Emma went and got her game and started placing the faces on the corresponding countries. Seeing her mature into someone capable of thinking of that herself, much less doing it, is such a joy. I thank God for her growing mind and her passion for learning. Kids are sponges, and Emma definitely loves to soak up information. I love to have fun learning together.

The thought of sending her to school full time in a few weeks breaks my heart. I told my hubby, “I feel like I’ve put in all these years with her, and now she is getting to such an incredible stage, and I have to share her.” The truth is, I would have had trouble sharing her if she was five months or fifteen years. It probably has less to do with the stage and more to do with a huge transition for me. I feel blessed that I have had this time with her. It wasn’t always easy, but it was so worth it. As she heads to school, I know she will learn a ton, have a wonderful time interacting with her peers, and benefit so much from the great school she will be at, but it still hurts to think of letting her go. I question if I’ve taught her enough, played with her often enough, taken enough advantage of each moment I’ve had with her. In the beginning, the time really didn’t go that quickly. There were sleepless nights and days filled with crying (usually her tears, sometimes mine.) However, somewhere along the line, time began to seemingly pick up the pace. I feel now like things are on fast forward, and I wonder if I’ve fully taken advantage of all of the moments I’ve had. I hope she looks back someday and feels like I did.

As Emma heads to kindergarten, the only one more devastated than me will probably be Lily. The girls are the best of friends. I mean that. They play together almost constantly, coming up with so many imaginative plays, scenarios, tea parties, and reading sessions. They are beyond my best dreams for what sisters could be together. I fear that Lily will be adrift without her favorite big sis. For her part, Emma has told me she will miss Lily. Three is a rather challenging age, with emotions often wide ranging, potty battles ongoing, and opinions bigger than independent skills and abilities. However, the girls’ tight bond allows me to adore this parenting stage, even with Lily still going through the difficult transition of three. Lily is so joyful when they play and create together, it often pulls her out of the toughness of three and makes her beam proudly and reach farther than she would alone. I am grateful that I will have one-on-one time with her like I got with Emma in the beginning and that she can discover who she is without a mastermind behind her creative games. Still, I know that I can’t compete with a big sis whose imagination carries Lily places I might not even think of now that I’m solidly into adulthood. We still have fun. This morning, I planned a Tea Party breakfast in our three seasons room in celebration of the London Olympics and had two very delighted girls, but I know I have my limitations, brought on by age and the need to handle household tasks throughout the day. I only hope that I can continue to help Lily blossom into all that she is meant to be, that I can remember to take the time to be her playmate and friend as well as her mom. She has such a phenomenal spirit, a sparkle in her eyes and a smile that emanates from within her petite little body. I want to do justice to the precious gift I was given in her.

Change is always hard. This year, we’ve moved, and now I need to prepare to send my oldest to full day kindergarten and my youngest to preschool a few hours a week. I am definitely struggling with the emotions of this transition. When I think about all that I have been entrusted with, I am overwhelmed with gratitude and humbled by the ways I could have probably done better the past five years.

As I was in the middle of typing that last sentence, Emma just came in to ask for help with something. Feeling reflective, I asked her, “Do you think, in the past five years, I’ve done okay as your mommy?” Thoughts of times I’d checked my Facebook account or put her off for “just one more minute” that turned into twenty as I checked laundry or called a friend came to my mind.

She looked at me, said, “Mmm-hmm,” paused for a moment, then said, “I love having you for a mommy so much. I don’t think any other mommy would be just perfect for me.”

Wow! Did I mention that I love having a five year old? It doesn’t hurt that she’s the absolutely perfect five year old for me. So thankful today that I was given two girls that I love with all my heart. Through the transition ahead, they will still be my girls, and I will still be their mom. And that is the sweetest spot of all.

Happy Birthday To My Favorite Three Year Old On The Planet

Today is your Golden birthday, Lily Rebecca. You are three, and you are so proud and excited to be having a birthday. It has been such a sweet day together. Daddy kindly took Emma to preschool so that we could snuggle extra, read story after story, and have a leisurely breakfast together. You loved it and soaked it all up. We even stopped to get you balloons and met Daddy for lunch, and you proudly brought your balloons in with you and enjoyed any “Happy Birthday” that came your way. Today, you get to begin to eat nuts, and you are in awe that you have finally reached this milestone. I was going to wait until tomorrow, but Emma was so excited for you, and we consented to a treat with a tiny bit of nuts at lunchtime. So far, so good. 

Lately, you like to change your outfit at least four times a day. Typically, I work to deter you because it usually means more laundry for me, but today, to your delight, I just complimented each selection, and you beamed. You are such a sweetheart.

You love to be silly and make others laugh. You sing and you twirl, and you look demure but smile when people give you kind words. You can’t wait to dip into the dress up bin and become a fancy princess. You enjoy snuggles and reading together and playing outside and spending time with your big sister. You get so excited for Friday Family Fun and are even more thrilled when it is your turn to decide what we do. After nap, you choose to watch your thirty-minute movie of the day rather than have a snack, though any other time, you love your snacks. You like piggy back rides from Daddy, compliments from Mommy, healthy foods and sweet foods, swinging “super high”, and life in general. You still gallop joyfully from place to place, and it makes Daddy and me smile. You know your colors and your phone number, can spell your name and count to twenty-five (though sometimes you skip a couple of numbers in the teens ;-P), sweetly say your ABCS, recite the days of the week and months of the year, and like to point out the red octagons (stop signs) that we pass. Your mind is soaking up new information each day, and I love to be here to experience it with you.

As is often true of three year olds, you are hitting the age where you are very opinionated. You don’t like to be told to go potty, to put on a sweater, or to hurry to get out the door to bring Emma to school. You are starting to realize your autonomy from me, and that means more tantrums and time outs, but it is still exciting to see you become more of your own person. I am proud to watch you grow beautifully into yourself.

Three years ago today, your Mommy was blessed to have a high-risk pregnancy end with a two hour labor and a bundle of pure joy in her arms. No words can express the absolute love and gratitude I felt in that moment. And that feeling hasn’t changed, only grown as you have. Happy third birthday, baby.

The Windy City

We took the girls and my parents into Chicago today. It was the girls’ first time to the Windy City. I know, it’s amazing that we live so close and they’ve never been, but today we had a very special reason for an overdue visit. Emma had saved up enough to get her beloved American Girl doll. Through doing extra jobs around the house and the generosity of birthday benefactors (she used all of her grandparent and great-grandparent birthday money to go toward the doll and an American Girl gift card from her friend), she had reached her goal of saving to buy the doll of her dreams. So, the six of us loaded up and headed to Chicago. There are many things I’d like to remember from today, and most of them are best told in pictures. First, as we entered the city, Lily looked around in wonder at the tall buildings and skyscrapers and exclaimed, “Look! It’s a magic castle.” “There are so many magic castles, Daddy.” It is such a privilege to see things through the eyes of a child’s first experience. I love my little Lily, pictured here ready to go on our recent Mommy / Daughter date to the Beauty and the Beast play. She thinks in rainbows and magic castles and hugs and “I love you so much!” declarations. She is such a joyful presence, and she was fun to have along as an important part of our family on her big sister's big day.

 

Next, as we arrived at American Girl Place in Chicago, I reveled in the anticipation Emma felt as she got so close to her goal and soaked up the excitement her grandparents felt for her, at the fact that we could all enjoy this moment together as a family.

 

The store itself was a bit overwhelming for Emma, so after checking out the dolls, we took a lunch break to think about her big decision of which doll to choose.

 

We had lunch at The Signature Room on the 95th floor of the John Hancock building. The kids and adults were all in awe of our incredible view. We left with full bellies and happy hearts, feeling like we’d seen so much of Chicago from above.

 

After lunch, Emma couldn’t wait to return to American Girl Place so that she could bring her doll home. That was our next stop, and she bought a doll that looks a lot like her and a brush for the doll’s hair. She handed over her money and paid for pretty much everything but the tax, which we were happy to quietly cover.

I will remember the absolute delight on Emma’s face as we had the doll be “born,” freed from the package as we all gathered in the kitchen after we returned home. She was so proud of the doll she had “bought herself” and thanked the people who helped contribute to her cause. 

 

Speaking of memories, today made me think of a memory I hold dear from my own childhood. When I was a little girl, I saved for a long time to buy my very own Cabbage Patch doll, the cherished doll of my time. I remember thinking how amazing it was that the clerk rang the doll up for the exact amount I had saved, $36.25. I also remember floating through the grocery store with my family after, barely believing that regular life and grocery runs went on when something so incredible had happened to me. It wasn’t until I was an adult that I found out that my parents had gone into the store ahead of time, paid the difference between the $36.25 that I had and how much the doll had cost, and had not let on that they helped me accomplish my goal. Never had I felt more loved than when I discovered this in my college years. They had taught me the value of hard work by having me save for my doll for about a year, but they had also demonstrated grace by giving me more than I deserved and doing it quietly, so that I would only know of it much later. This has been an especially busy time in our lives, but I hope that our sweet Emma will also look back upon this someday and realize that we loved her so much, we wanted to teach her to work hard, save, and make her dreams come true. Though life has been jam packed, we couldn't pass up the opportunity to take her to the store and let her empty her wallet and walk out feeling richer. Now, she has a beautiful doll by her side, but what makes her so much more blessed is that she has a family that couldn’t be happier for her, so many people who will always be on her side, encouraging her to work hard and pulling for her dreams to come true.

  

Birthday Girl

Our precious Emma Grace is about to turn five. Each morning, she tells me how many days until her birthday. Last year, I had to tell her each day how much longer she still had to wait. This year, she started the countdown on her own. So many things about her have grown and matured. She is reading simple early readers with just a bit of help, counting past one hundred, and excitedly writing letters, words, and numbers. Beyond her academic learning, for which I am grateful, are the life skills that make me even more proud. She has always been a sweetheart, but her loving nature is expanding as she gets older. She thinks of other people, seeks to help those that are less fortunate, tries to be considerate of others’ feelings, attempts to cheer up those who are sad, plays beautifully with her little sister most of the time, often shows appreciation toward others, and is respectful to her teachers at school. At this point, she is a rule follower. She wants to do the right thing, often being harder on herself than I need to be on her. She loves going to school and adores her teachers and the other kids. It has been fun to watch her social confidence grow. She giggles heartily, a wonderful addition to her sometimes serious nature. Her sense of humor has blossomed, and she loves to joke with those she feels comfortable around. Of course, whatever her demeanor, we adore her. At school, her self-proclaimed favorite thing is snack, though she also talks about her teachers and friends quite a bit. Her favorite special is gym (physical education), followed by library and Spanish. In her downtime, she still loves books and spends a long time reading them most days. Usually, she still reads from memory or makes up the stories as she goes along. She also enjoys pretend play with her doll house. Imaginary play with her sister (playing doctor, preschool, and restaurant) are some of her most giggle-filled moments. Happily, she still loves to snuggle with me and listen to the Little House chapter books. I am thankful for these sweet sessions together. She continues to very much look forward to visits from her grandparents, absolutely loves when they read to her, play with her, and take her out to eat. She thoroughly enjoys food, sleeps well at night, and spends her time in a nice mix of sitting quietly to read, draw, or write and running around and being silly, like the carefree preschooler that she is. She is also learning to work toward a goal. She has seen many of her friends excitedly receive American Girl dolls, and she has hoped for one of her own. We wanted to teach her the value of hard work, so she has been working toward earning the doll by unloading the dishwasher for 20 cents, putting away the whole family’s laundry for 25 cents, hanging up coats for a penny each, and other odd jobs that pay far below minimum wage when done at the pace of a four-year-old. She still does her regular jobs as just part of her family responsibility, but she is learning a lot from having to do extra work and seeing how much it takes to buy such a special doll. Lucky for her, she also gets to put her birthday money toward the doll, so she should get it before 2013. ;-P Recently, she was so excited that a store had sent her a gift card in the mail for her birthday. She talked about it for days. When we finally went to the store so that she could pick something out, she said that she really wanted to get something for her baby boy cousin, due to arrive this summer, declaring that he doesn’t have anything yet (still being in the womb and all), and she already has some things. Earlier that same day, after I threw her class a Valentine’s Day party with another room mom, I asked her what her favorite part of the party was. She loves to eat, so I thought she’d say snack. Instead, she looked up at me, smiled, and said, “Just being with you, Mom.” There are many moments in motherhood that are exhausting and challenging, but I have been making a concerted effort lately to dwell in these other moments, the times when she melts my heart with her generosity toward others or her kindness toward me. She still whines like any almost-five-year-old, sometimes gets frustrated with her little sister, often melts down over seemingly minor details, and doesn’t always complete her chores as quickly as I would like, but she is healthy, curious, and one of the kindest human beings I know. I am so grateful and proud to call her my daughter, and I want her to know that now and always. I have been beyond blessed to be given my priceless Emma Grace. So, it is with much happiness and deep emotion that I celebrate her turning five, understanding that she will continue to surprise, challenge, amaze, and impact me in ways I never could have imagined before I became her mother. I thank God for my Emma Grace.

Fleeting Moments

Knowing that Lily is the baby of our family makes these last few months of toddlerhood extra sweet for me. I catch myself so many times a day saying to myself or out loud, “I love that kid sooo much,” or “She is so stinkin’ cute!” There is that old sentiment that we don’t know how good we have it until it’s gone. It’s not that I haven’t been enjoying my girls. I appreciate many moments with them throughout the day, though, in the interest of full disclosure, admittedly less so the ones that include time outs, tantrums, and tears (sometimes mine.) Still, there is a sentimentality that is present lately, every time I hold Lily’s still-small hands, each time she talks to me in her not yet mature tone, in the moments when she says, “I wanna snuggle you, Mom. I love you so much, Mom,” with the heart melting, tummy flipping sweetness that the innocence of two bequeaths. So, tonight, I just want to take a moment to remember what she is like at 2 years, 8 ½ months old. We call her “Fiercy” and “Fierce One.” It began with us referring to her as "The Nut," and "Nutty," (because she's our happy little peanut), which morphed into “Nutty McPhearson,” admittedly a somewhat (okay, really) random nickname. Then, in the not-so-logical sequence of things, "Nutty McPhearson" became “Fiercy,” and “Fierce One.” These most recent monikers are not because she is anything less than sugary sweet. When her sister bumps into her or hurts her feelings, she says, “Sorry, Emma,” before Emma can even apologize. She is, however, very fierce on one level. As she proudly proclaims, “I tough, Mom. I so tough.” And she is, accidentally clocking herself on the head or wiping out hard on the tile, rubbing it as she makes her best tough girl face, and saying, “I not going to cry, Mom. I tough.” She does, of course, cry at times…when she bites her tongue or cheek at mealtime (somehow, this is her Achilles’ heel) or really gets hurt, but all in all, she’s our fierce one. We try to allow her room to cry, and she does, but for some reason, she feels she has an image to maintain. Perhaps it’s the nickname, or maybe it is the admiration of her big sister who always remarks on how Lily gets big owies and doesn’t cry. Recently, we were playing with some great friends of ours. Lily had placed a play ring on my finger as she snuggled in my lap. The other two-year-old came and borrowed the ring from me. I didn’t even think about it. Then, I looked at Lily, and she had the biggest fake grin on her face as tears rolled down her cheeks. Knowing she’s my fierce one and something must really be wrong, I said, “What’s wrong, baby?” She said, “Nofing. Nofing’s wrong, Mom. I fine,” while continuing to work hard to fake smile as the tears rolled down and she vehemently shook her head “no” to accompany her “Nofing’s wrong.” When I realized it was the ring and asked her about it, her face quivered a bit, but she maintained her stance, not wanting to let on that she was upset about a little ring. My mother’s heart melted. One thing Lily is is fiercely fun. Her absolute favorite pastime is a tie between looking at pictures and videos on my phone and playing with the incredible dollhouse Grandpa and Grandma got for Emma and her for Christmas.

 

The phone time we try to limit, though it came in very handy when she accompanied me for my hour long dental appointment last week. As for the dollhouse, we encourage it. She plays with it in almost every spare moment, talking about “the hygienist” in one dollhouse scene after she has accompanied me to the dentist, acting out Rapunzel and Flynn Ryder scenes in the next play session. It is fun to watch her imagine and enjoy.

 

Lily also looks forward to her allotted 30-minute video time each day and asks a few times a day if it is time to watch yet, though she knows she always gets her movie time after nap. She gets to choose what she watches. Her current favorite is a VCR tape that focuses on A-E-I-O-U and sometimes Y, so she goes around singing her vowels often. She is also a big fan of reading, especially snuggling up in my bed while Emma is in preschool. We read book after book, with her loving every second, and me enjoying the moments in ways that are uniquely precious when you truly sense that these little one years are coming to an end. At night, she snuggles on one side, Emma snuggles on the other, and we read from the Little House series. We are almost done with our third book, and the girls adore them. Lily likes to pick them up and say, “Laura and Mary…” “And then, Jack…” and “Ma keeps Baby Carrie safe, right, Mama?” She retells the stories so cutely. I smile every single time, I think. She is also still two, and she takes out (and often misplaces) our bookmark every time, of course before I have found our page. Sometimes, she frustrates big sis by coloring on her homework (just once, but memorable for Emma) or mistakenly using her stickers. In some ways, it is so much easier to forgive these tiny transgressions when you realize she won’t be so tiny in a few months, much less a few years. In this way, I have a perspective that is tougher for Emma to see. The girls giggle a lot together, though, and truly are best buddies, though I get to mediate disputes at times, too. They usually hug it out and move on after stating their cases and exchanging apologies. When they are on good terms, they have some silly games. They sit and shake hands. Emma says, “Nice to meet you.” Lily says, “Nice to meet you, too,” and they both dissolve into giggles. I don’t think there is a sweeter sound than hearing your children laugh together. May they always have inside jokes to share and more fun than frustration between the two of them. Both girls love to sing, and Lily has been doing a really adorable rendition of “Have you ever seen a frog, walking a dog, down by the bay?” She makes the funniest facial expressions, gestures theatrically with her hand, and proudly belts out the tune. We are treated to a dinner theater like no other when she performs. Speaking of dinner, she does have a sweet tooth and never turns down a treat when offered, but dinner is mostly about business. She implores us for more broccoli, more chickpeas, more brown rice, and generally food that many toddlers would gladly give her rather than find on their plates. We find it funny but nice and hope her healthy eating habits stick. We also call her our little carnivore, as we aren’t big meat eaters, but she absolutely loves it. One food she adamantly refuses is mushrooms, and she picks them out no matter their size or how hard we try to conceal them. Spinach? Fine. Tomatoes? Fantastic. The tiniest morsel of mushroom? Forget it. One of my favorite hours of the week is “Friday Family Fun,” and Lily excitedly says “Friday Family Fun” again and again as she anticipates whose turn it is to pick a game or a movie. If the game is “Don’t Break the Ice,” she is always, without fail, the one to break the ice, and she smiles proudly, not caring about the intent of the game, just enjoying the playing of it. If it is a movie, she snuggles next to me, then invariably ends up on my lap, with her precious head snug beneath mine, her freshly washed hair calling me to breathe deeply of her littleness. Recently, Lily had me curious, then grinning. With an earnestness that spoke of deep conviction, she said, “When I grow up and be a mama…(insert long pause here)…I going go to Peak Fitness.” During her exaggerated pause, I was so anticipating what she might have gleaned from me as a mother, and then I realized that it was my dashing off to Zumba or the treadmill or weightlifting or yoga and Pilates a couple of times a week. I guess this means that she is picking up on the importance of a healthy lifestyle?? Either that, or I need to try harder to make my mothering mark. I guess I would rather that she aspires to Peak Fitness than scrubbing toilets or dishes or bottoms. Not that these aren’t all honorable things that parents undertake. They just aren’t quite as aspirational as throwing on a pair of yoga pants, doing some fun dancing that is good for body and spirit, and coming home with a smile on my face. Lily currently has the cutest little coat with bright polka dots, matching mittens, and a hat with two huge pompoms. She calls the pompoms her “speakers.” She gets compliments wherever she goes, and I think I will always remember my little polka dotted toddler, smiling between those two “speakers,” causing strangers and friends and family to fall under her charms. Lily is my little helper (of course when the task interests her), wanting to help unpack the dishwasher, wishing to clean with a cleaning toothbrush. I smile and usually indulge as she makes more mess than progress. I do greatly look forward to the days that there is not a trail of things left on the floor behind her, but I know those days are coming, so it makes it easier to be patient. For, when the trail is gone, the footie pajamas will be, too. And I do dearly love those footie pajamas. She, like me sometimes (you should see me at Disneyland), alternates between wanting to be grown up and wishing to slip into a childlike existence. Half the time she adamantly refuses her bib and the other half she begs for it when we don’t put it on. Sometimes, she wants to use a baby spoon for her meal and is insulted if given anything else. Other times, she wants a spoon just like the rest of us. For awhile, she went on the potty consistently. Now, she rarely wants anything to do with it. She is caught between toddlerhood and the preschool years, and she is not always sure which side of the stages she wants. Yet, somehow, that’s okay, because the wonderful thing about having done this before is that I know that this, too, shall pass. With enough consequences, her behavior turns around. With enough patience mixed with firm follow through, she does what is asked after the two-year-old tantrum has passed. For this, and her sweet heart, I am grateful. Lily also knows she will not always be in this stage. She thinks of the future. Since we have some nut allergies in the family, we are waiting to expose her to nuts until she is three. We try to be considerate, but when everyone else is having nuts, she takes it in stride, saying, “I not big enough for nuts yet,” or “I can’t have almonds, Grandma,” or “I can have nuts when I’m free (three.)” She also loves to point out every bus she sees, saying “There are two city buses, Mom. There is a school bus,” as we drive in town. Then, she will say, “I going to ride a bus when I five, Mom.” Last night, my hubby was commenting on how nice it is that the girls are getting older and more independent. He has always been a huge fan of them at each stage, but he is really enjoying this one. I, too, appreciate that some of the moment to moment demands of worrying about choking hazards and midnight feedings have passed. The funny thing about being a parent, though, is that a simple statement like, “This, too, shall pass,” can fill you with relief and tears in the same moment. There is relief that we will not forever be stuck in this problem, this stage, this challenge. At the same time, there is also regret that there will no longer be this set of baby-like hands clutching your face, never the slobbery goodness of your two-year-old daughter planting the sweetest kiss, never a voice that calls your husband “Da-ee” with a mix of admiration and love that cannot be bought. So, knowing that this, too, shall pass, I am finding that the twos haven’t been so terrible at all. They are just too terribly precious to forget.

 

Four Year Old Dreams: A Letter to Emma Grace

Today was a big day for you, Emma Grace. This morning, you had a Thanksgiving program at school, and you sang so well and confidently. Daddy, Lily, and I were really proud of you up there. Then, this afternoon, the day got even more memorable. You have been close to reading for a long time, but I have been so determined to keep your joy for books alive, to avoid frustration by not pushing you too soon, that I have been staying away from reading lessons. Today, we decided to try together, and you started to recognize sight words, sound out most of the other words, and read several early reader stories with a little help. You were so excited by your new skill. We are reading simple books together, but you are doing wonderfully, and I am so proud of you. Tonight, as I snuggled you before bed, I told you that even when you are Mommy’s age, you will always be my baby. You began to tell me of your dreams for the future. You said you will still live with me when you are in your thirties. I explained that Daddy and I don’t live with our parents anymore, and you likely won’t, either. I said you’d probably have your own house and could make your own decisions. As you thought about that, you told me what you think your life will look like. Below is a close approximation of the exact words you said. I thought you would enjoy looking back on this someday when you’ve lived a few decades and have seen how your life has begun to unfold. Here is what you said: I will have a boy, a girl, and another boy. (I asked you if you were having three kids.) You said, “Yes,” and then proceeded to describe them a bit. The one boy will have brown hair. The other boy will have blonde hair, and the girl will have, um, brown hair, too. I will live on a farm. (I asked you who would do all of the work.) You got a big smile and said, “I will have a husband.” (I then asked you if he would do all of the work, wondering if that is what you were implying with your smile.) You said, “No, I will help, too.” You told me more about your farm. I will have a pet. I will have a dog and a cat. I will have bales of hay down the hill and a weeder (you meant feeder :-)) for the birds with food in it. I will have geese. I will have cows, too. (Aside from the geese, you are describing Grandpa and Grandma’s farm, your four-year-old vision of a dream life. It will be fun to see if this is what you continue to want as you get older. As I listened to your hopes, I told you that it sounds like you will have a very busy house, filled with three kids and lots of animals. I said that I will love to visit you in your busy home.) I love you so much, my favorite four-year-old. I am proud of you for having new skills and big dreams. Often, things happen differently from our childhood plan. I wanted to name my kids “Kiki” and “Orgis” when I was your age. :-) Still, it’s great to have an imagination and a sense of hope for your future. You, my Emma, are beyond my wildest dreams. I am so thankful that no matter what my plan was when I was four, I got wonderful you. I couldn’t have dreamed big enough to know that I was going to get to be your mommy.

Remember Me?

About a month ago, I was struggling for energy, patience, and resiliency. I realized that, in trying to love my children well over the past nearly five years, I have often forgotten myself. I can’t really complain. I certainly know others that have it much worse than I do. Most of my self-neglect has been self-inflicted. I’ve read the same articles that everyone else has, reminding us to take care of us first. I’ve heard the warnings about putting on your own oxygen mask before assisting others. Still, my strong desire to be the best mom possible (which is still quite an imperfect mom anyway) had, after almost half a decade, left me without reserves to handle some of the everyday challenges involved with raising small children. I pray each morning to be the best wife and mother that I can be, but I finally recognized that I needed to remember to take care of me if I wanted to take care of those I love most. I talked it over with my husband, who was in complete agreement and support (very lucky me.) So, I decided to make some pledges to myself. I would begin to exercise regularly so that I had the energy to keep up with the kids. I know, I am making it about them again, but these are baby steps, and it truly is my deep desire to be all I can for them. I joined a local gym and started working out and going to classes. I think both psychologically and physiologically, this had dramatic effects. It said to me, “You are important enough to take care of you,” and it really did give me hugely increased energy levels and a sense of looking forward to both my time away from my family and subsequently my time with them. The gym even has treadmills with individual TVs…what could be more decadent to a mom of little ones? I did not begin the gym thing casually. I went every other night, taking classes that were labeled “intermediate” to “advanced.” My whole body ached the first week and a half, but my heart felt lighter. My husband has been incredible about increasing his responsibility with the kids in addition to his work responsibilities. He loves the results of a more content, alive, engaged me. I have to say, I love them, too. My next promise was to get more sleep. Honestly, I am still struggling with this one. I stay up too late at night given that I have to get the girls up and ready for Emma’s preschool in the morning. When I do get to bed early, I experience increased patience the next day. Still, it is hard to turn in early when I know that that is my me time or our couple time. This one is a work in progress. I also decided to cut myself some parenting slack. Potty training was making wonderful progress here, but then the progress stopped and regressed, and it was becoming too stressful on everyone. I gave myself permission to say that this is a developmental step, and we just aren’t there yet. Letting that one go for now made my days and my moods much less messy, and I’m pretty sure my two-year-old is happier now, too. Finally, I made the huge leap to say that it was okay to have fun without my children. This was tough, (it even looks rather ugly in print to me here), but it had huge pay offs. Conant was gone on a business trip and called home to tell me he needed to go on another one, to sunny California. I had had a rougher than usual week at home alone with the kids, culminating that night with an incredibly messy scene that required much clean up. I won’t go into details, but it was my breaking point. I told him I really didn’t want to be left again so soon. He invited me to go with him. I laughed. Then, my wheels started turning. We had a flight voucher. Here was a very inexpensive vacation at a nice hotel in California. We could add on a free night at another nice hotel with points, and we were a ten minute walk from Disneyland. My parents checked their schedules and generously agreed to give the girls their own vacation on the farm. I wrote a note to each girl for each morning, wrapped them up a small gift for each day (a craft, a game, or a snack so they knew we were thinking of them), and packed us up for our trips. Conant and I had an incredible time embarking on an adventure together. Though he had to work all but the last day, we had amazing meals together, walked on the beach, and experienced sunset over the ocean.

 

Disneyland was the perfect blend of no responsibility and enjoying one another’s company. It was such a gift to our marriage. Which, ironically, is a gift to the children we left behind. I felt so guilty thinking of going to Disneyland without our kids. Before I even met Conant, I had been to Disney in Florida, in France, and in Japan. I love the magic of Disney, but it was hard to think of going without the girls. Before we left, Emma asked, “Is there a Disney in California? Are you going there?” I nervously told her, “Yes,” but she simply replied with happiness for me. I am grateful for girls with such big hearts. From the moment I stepped on Disney grounds, I felt like skipping. I thought, “This really is the Happiest Place On Earth!” Ride after ride, princess after princess, parade float after parade float, I couldn’t help but smile. I was there, having an amazing time, with my best friend.

 

We took the first flight home Monday morning so that we could take our Supergirls out for Halloween at night.

 

Throughout the trip, I called them a few times a day, but on Monday, I couldn’t wait to get my arms around them. When I saw them for the first time in five days Monday afternoon, they both snuggled on my lap with their arms wrapped around my neck. In that moment, I realized that Disneyland was incredible, but MY “Happiest Place On Earth” was my very own living room, with those four sweet little arms hugging their mommy. I was recharged, refreshed, and filled with a renewed appreciation for all that I have been given. After embarking on my own “Remember Me?” campaign, I am more fit in body, mind, and spirit, and I am more grateful than ever for the little ones that bring love and laughter to our home and to this mom. Maybe there is something to that oxygen mask metaphor after all.0