.:34:. Diving in the D e e p…

Interstate Park | Taylor’s Falls, MN

The first day I became a parent was the first day I subconsciously gave myself boundaries. Boundaries that kept me and my little family safe. Boundaries that kept me from danger, that wound me up a little too tight, that left me more fragile than ever. I found myself protective, worried, easily offended, concerned about the future and if what I was doing for the sweet ones I held tightly in my arms, even mattered… feeling so safe in the in the shallow end that I often felt like I was drowning. I didn’t know it, but I was afraid. Afraid of so many unknowns that I felt I needed to know.

Seven years later, as I sit here still – looking at my little gals run around, imagine, question, learn, love, laugh, and fight hard – I feel resilient, proud, successful, pure joy, big love… but I am still tethered to a fear that only a mother can hold onto. A fear that makes waves in my heart and rip-tides in my gut. A fear of the unknown future in a time when so much change has recently happened – from a pandemic that continues to quietly swirl around us, to a time of serious protest and injustice where valuable voices are being blurred behind destruction, but most importantly – finally heard with intention.

This world is an ocean – 71% to be exact – and our islands are not always safe havens. I often find myself sitting at the oceans’s bottom, holding my breathe – watching sharks fight, jelly fish float, dolphins dance and whales make waves. It’s a beautiful (and unnerving) feeling to take it all in, but I can’t hold my breathe that long. Resurfacing is a release. Coming up for air is necessary, pulling me away from the discomfort that I found some sort of peace in. We all need to remind ourselves to come up for air but to also remember that when we Dive into the D e e p, we are not alone. When we sink into the dark sea, we are strong and valuable. We are surrounded by a beautiful chaos that needs us – a vast ocean filled with unknowns and fear. Filled with life and change.

So as I resurface, I write. I write to release fear little by little – while dipping my toes in the water and staring into the abyss, knowing full well that I will retreat again… not entirely sure I will have enough oxygen.

I’m happy to reveal, that my motherly boundaries have loosened a little bit, while I continue to challenge myself to face and embrace even the smallest of fears. The fears that surround us as we seek peace in the D e e p. I’ve slowly felt introversion take over my past extrovert and I’m surprisingly OK with this. Ambivert, I am. I would compare this realization to (since I’m all about analogies) peeling off a diving suit – a thick, neoprene, restrictive diving suit. Confident and daring while wearing it, but clearly confined.

Have you ever thought about casting a net before diving in? Working hard to remove the danger before you make the jump? It’s impossible. So much lurks and blends in, deception hides and reveals it’s self at your weak moments. So, if these fears are unavoidable how do we let life in – unfiltered, no net… without getting hurt, without experiencing deep pain? The answer is, we don’t. We don’t do it without a piercing of the heart, a tear in our soul, a wound, a scar, a revelation – a reminder that we are human and diving in the D e e p is a risk we all take at our own time. So, don’t waste your time with a net because you can’t control what will seep out.

When I dive into the D e e p, I am now challenging myself to take in the beauty of it’s symbiotic chaos, the circle of life, the unexpected change and know it’s OK.

.:31:. a M O T H E R S | D A Y.


on a New Year we resolute, envisioning change and exciting things ahead. Clinking fancy stemware while smooching your beau.

on a Birthday, we find solace in celebration of any sort, while attempting to leap gracefully into another year of life – hoping to be better than last year and avoid the extra wrinkles and aches of aging… believing that turning 29 (yet again) is amazing!

a New Year and a Birthday – two of the many events that mark a celebration for all to enjoy in their own way.

No discrimination, no struggle, no wait or wonder. We all go to bed one year and we all wake up in a new calendar year or a new year of life. Nobody is left behind. Their is no criteria for these holidays besides just being.

on M O T H E R S | D A Y we are reminded of our title and how it became. A unique title not held by all. Some of us are reminded of the wait before the celebration. The questions, and worries. On a day like Mother’s Day, we watch the little people that we’re raising, shower us with love in their own special way. We open our arms to sweet homemade gifts and cursivey quotes of affirmation and celebration for a job well done.

“Thank you for mothering our children.”

“You’re an amazing mother.”

“You deserve this…”

“MOM = WOW”

I write to remind all you Mothers that today isn’t just another holiday like the others. It’s a club with a member’s only card, a bouncer and a handshake… and if you don’t get in you either try again next year or decide that this isn’t the title that suits you. But it isn’t a simple “check yes or no” application. It’s a process – for some, a long and tedious one – and a quick signature won’t do.

We often forget that many may never celebrate this day for themselves. Many see this day as a sad one, because loss has doused them in sorrow. Some may put this day on an unattainable pedestal, expecting all the glory because… labor, late nights, breast feeding, ppd, etc. Some may want to hide from this day, avoid the spotlight, just live like it were yesterday. And don’t get me wrong, mothering and all that comes with it, is nothing to turn our heads to. It’s a powerful experience filled with exhaustion, pain and incredible emotions – a true reason for celebration, after even small successes! 

The first year I became a “member” of Mother’s Day, I let all of the stress and fervour of year one parenting cloud my vision. I let out this huge breathe I had been holding in, as if reaching Mother’s Day was some sort of goal. The finish line for the past year. “Yay, you did it – your first year of parenting! Happy Mother’s Day!”. After watching so many women in my life enter this club with apparent ease (so I thought), I was finally celebrating!

But something important often slips through the cracks on this day. Something that cards and flowers don’t equate to. This year, with 2 little humans running around and having pretty intellectual conversations now, I am struck with how my view of Mother’s Day has changed. As much as I mother my children and care for them like I should… they have truly formed the mother I am today. I am a “member” of Mother’s Day because of them, not because chose to be a mother.


They came into this life and looked up at my clueless face with zero expectation and 100% trust. When I stumble, they continue to trust. When I break, they see me clearly between the cracks… and because of this unfiltered and no-judgement relationship I am a mother. When I look into their genuine eyes, I see pure and honest love that is always working to penetrate through my emotions. When I anger, I still see that love in their eyes. When I am ashamed, it remains. When I am sad, they worry. When I feel clueless, they trust. When I am filled with joy, they join the party!

So, I am asking this year – why do you celebrate Mother’s Day? Because the local spa has a great deal and the flowers this time of year are glorious? Because your annual Mother’s day feast is fit for a queen and very instagrammable? Or do you celebrate to honor? Honor the little lives that honored you on day 1 – after all, they gave you the pass into this “club”.

I celebrate for them – the extension of my life that didn’t exist 5.5 years ago. Two little people that love me no matter what. On a day like Mother’s Day we can all give ourselves the gift of grace and gratitude for the badge that we wear – the badge that appears in wrinkles and bedhead, dry shampoo and unfolded laundry. So if you don’t get that spa or those flowers, or your feast is a flop – dig deep and find the honor that hugs you no matter what side of the bed you woke up on. The hands that still need you… through tantrums and teen angst, they still choose you.

Happy Mother’s Day to you and the beautiful generation of humans who are unknowingly raising you in motherhood.

.:30:. Happy Birthday to me. 


A late night post on the eve of my birth. I’m not big on my own Birthday, but each year has me realizing that it’s ok to take a moment and celebrate. Even if it is just a random blog post/poem.

#becauseican #becauseparentingalwayswins

Because ever since I turned 30, I’ve had trouble sleeping and well, I like to pretend that I know how to rhyme. #noshame

Putting parenting into perspective…

‘Twas the night before the day I turned 35 and all through my home,

Not a creature was stirring, wait who am I kidding… I’m a mom, I’m not alone!

All single socks lay in a pile with care, in hopes that someday I’d find the other pair.

The children were finally tucked into bed. While visions of relaxation bounced around in my head.

And me with my mouth guard and dad with his nasal strip, had just dozed off after a date with Netflix.

When out in the hall there arose such a clatter.
I sprang from my bed to see what was a matter.

Away to the hall I flew like a flash, tore open our door and threw on my glasses.

The moon brightly shining from our big window, sleepily reminded me that I needed to buy new lightbulbs tomorrow.

But what to my wondering eyes did appear, two little faces exclaiming they had a nightmare.

With two four year olds so sneaky and quick
I knew in a moment, I was being tricked.
So clever and witty, their demands made me guilty.

As they whispered and asked nicely with sweet droopy eyes…

I’m hungry, I’m thirsty, I have to pee, please carry me, I need you, please hurry mommy! Read to me, rock me, let me lay with you, last came a whisper… tomorrow, can we go to the Zoo?!

At the top of the hour, I was not at the top of my game. I said, “yes, now go to bed…” as I kissed each sweet head. 

So back to their room they went with glee, clapping and singing about tomorrow’s adventure with me.

And then in the silence, I heard by my ear… “are you really taking them to the Zoo, dear?”

As I drew in my head and was turning around, he peered from the covers as if he barely heard a sound.

“You were awake?”, I said. As he lay cozy in bed with nasal strip tight and pillow nicely under his head.

Now his face filled with regret and distress “It’s ok,” I replied, “you’re up next!”.

He answered their call with more requests from the hall.

He filled water cups, he rocked, carried and sang songs. He fulfilled more demands and was back in bed before too long.

See, I was starting to think that the thing about Birthdays and being a parent, as you grow older – is that it’s just a number with more wrinkles, demands, and serious things to ponder. Or is it?

I wonder. As I wake to 35 what will happen? I will get up, stretch, and grab my water. I will look out the window where the moon once sat and thank God for the glow of the sun. I will rise with a drive to do more this year. Read more books, drink warm coffee, be kind to all, really just learn to be – – like Hygge (that doesn’t rhyme, it’s actually pronounced “hoo gah”).

I will make a plan, change a way, or just continue to be happy each and every day. Fully aware that tomorrow night could be the same little circus, I still plan to celebrate in my own special way.

Take a nap with my dog in my lap, have some wine at lunchtime – what? It’s my Birthday, it’s not a crime. I will choose to relax even if chaos ensues… from those sweet little gals who are expecting the Zoo. We will sing, dance, read, and of course I will carry on with each and every daily mommy deed. We will eat good food, squeeze in extra snuggles, be nice take advice and even add a little spice! …and honestly if I just can’t help it and it’s something I have to do, well it’s my Birthday and I will cry if I want to!

So, Happy Birthday to me as I wake up my head and may you also enjoy each and every one of your days ahead! Oh yes, and I always thank the hubby who also got out of bed ;).

Fun fact: 30 posts ago (approx), I was 30 and I wrote my first lbjb post! 

*this poem is a fictional story filled with facts from past experiences. So, this did not all happen in one night but it has before (in some way) and if it happens next week, I wouldn’t be surprised at all!

.:29:. TGIF (parents)


Those overly expressed four letters.

A term in everyone’s vocabulary, conversation, hashtag, end of week post, greeting or facial expression while exiting work after a long week. An acronym we all understand and have probably expressed at one point in our life.

As a Stay-at-home-mom, I laugh a little when I say TGIF these days. I’ve seen the funny quotes and GIFs that say “Happy Friday! …oh wait, I’m a parent.” and thought, “oh, c’mon it’s just Friday, not that big of a deal.” …until it became a big deal. As a parent it quickly became a controversial day. A day I constantly looked forward to but didn’t have the greatest feelings toward, at the same time. I often think about how different I felt when I would say this as a school aged kid or a yuppie (young urban professional), pre-kids… working long hours, reporting to someone throughout the week and dedicating most of my time and energy to M-F. My week was filled with pleasing all the “suits and heals” for a pat on the back. I saw the weekend as my refuge and I was thankful for the last day of the week that lead me into two days filled with my own agenda.

Now I feel different when I share with the world how thankful I am for Friday. These days, I am always in my workplace, M-Su. My clientele may be small but I am readily at their beckon call. No real break. At least not a break where I could sit quietly and read or chat with a co-worker. Not a break where I could eat a nicely packed lunch made just for me in an environment that is void of all household distractions. Yes, I am still thankful for Friday but I also send my thanks for all the other days. Thankful I woke up with some sort of energy allowing me to be somewhat successful… leaving my clients not only happy but also fed, clean, cozy and in one piece at the end of every.single.day.


Monday is the start of a long tedious race that I will not win but I proudly signed up for and would never quit. It’s a race with a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel. My cheerleaders are few and my shoes are worn and often feel like they were made for someone else. At times I find myself running into the wind and blazing sun, up a hill and in the rain, dodging trains and unexpected hail. I slip and fall a lot, yet still muster up the courage to rise with a grin.

Also, after staying home with little ones for so long, I think about how my relationship with Friday has dramatically changed. There’s no slacking, pat on the back or happily relieved head-nod from a co-worker who says, “TGIF!” while excitingly retreating to a weekend of freedom. After staying home with two little ones for more than four years, I think about Friday often. I think about the two days that follow with some extra help and more opportunities to rest and reset. For this I am grateful. When that second set of hands are in the door for more than dinner and our bedtime routine, I feel as though I can breathe a bit easier. However, I still find myself completely exhausted by the busyness of the weekend. We often do more on these days because we can. Routines are broken and all are tired from running around doing family activities. So, as I look forward to it, I find myself dragging by the end.

I am also grateful that the extra hands are even an option for me. I know many who don’t have this luxury, who don’t have the help and just keep chugging through the weekend, letting Friday pass by as if it were Wednesday. To those solo parents, I am amazed by your stamina, strength and continuous effort and I hope you are ocassionally or someday blessed by time to yourself – to fully rest and reset.

_____

Confession, I still say “TGIF!”. I pass it to a cashier while shopping, say it to a neighbor and hashtag it on my choice of social media along with a heavily filtered mug of fancy coffee or a tall glass of wine. I even jokingly say it to my husband while our children attack him with hugs and so many requests when he’s home. I am thankful it’s Friday, because I’m grateful to be alive and well and surrounded but those who mean the most in life. But in all honesty, as a stay-at-home-mom Friday is just another day.

TGIF 😊

 

 

.:28:. Like a gust of wind ~ Hello Again!


I walked outside this morning to (finally) put some Halloween decor away and a gust of wind hit me. With a deep breath I reminded myself that the week was 1/2 way over and then as a chill ran over my bare feet (true Minnesotan here) I realized that winter is right around the corner. Meaning… where did the summer and our always-too-short Fall go? I can’t even believe it’s November and we’ve already built a snowman, and the blur of the warm summer months have left me wondering what we did this summer…
_

Have you blinked lately and went from one month to the next seven? Well, that’s me today.

So, Hello Again!

Today I’m choosing to sit and thoroughly enjoy some silence while my girls nap. I’m not running around cleaning up, finishing laundry, putting dishes away, decluttering… per the norm. Nope, I have my feet up and words in my head, just for this spot. I love to write and try to figure this whole motherhood/parenthood/life thing out through run-on sentences, more than enough exclamation marks and probably too many question marks!!!??!!

This summer with 4 year olds was really kind of like a swift gust of wind. A breeze that can’t decide which way it wants to blow. An unpredictable breeze filled with high expectations, surprising demands and pure joy in the midst of little plans. I very vividly remember the baby days, staring at their tiny little everything, wondering what they’ll be like as walking-talking people.

Welp, here we are!


Mid summer, I had a realization. This just may be one of the last summers I really have with them. To be plan-less and pokey with long pj wearing mornings. I have a confession, we really had zero regular commitments. No planned activities. Besides a couple small trips, we had a lovely empty calendar, uncertain of where we would go and how each day would unfold. Like the rapid pace of our carefree and plan-less summer, I know we will soon be chasing the clock from one activity to the next and I chose to embrace a laxidasicle summer, enjoying my wild and sweet girls in their element. As parents we are under such pressure to keep our kids busy, stay active in the community, always participate, volunteer, bake, create, and more. We’re often running around racing each other. I’ve done that and to be honest, I don’t always mind the hustle and bustle of being busy and involved but I only recently learned that the unnecessary pressure can wear us out and spread us so thin that we have zero energy to enjoy the simplicity of life that really needs our attention! If it’s hard for us adults to handle at times, how do our kids feel?! So I’m waiting just a little longer for that busy-ness in life to set in and push us when we just want to sit. I will not force it. I needed this realization and I believe it’s made me a better and happier mom.

_

As carefree as this summer was, I found myself immersed in a foreign stage of life – not like the other stages with my girls…

I braced myself for the terrible twos but my husband and I agreed that age three was better suited for those expectations. Then, age 4 snuggled into our hearts so sweetly with a much bigger vocabulary and imagination, leaving us belly laughing and in awe of their profound curiosity. Then when we least expected it, this sweet age of 4 melted to the floor, flailed it’s arms and whined about everything under the sun… including the sun! And I’m not talking about a little bit of whining. On a sweet silver platter we have been served a large helping of whine, stuffed with whine, paired with a lovely side of whine and a dash of more whine… we accept our serving, and we think we can take it all, that we can handle it. Until we’re stuffed. Then we find ourselves ready for a very large glass of wine.

But seriously. What’s with all the whining?

So, I need to clarify… The terrible two expectations were dismissed by threenagers who busted down our walls, walls that lead directly into the exciting and crazy flames of wacky, wildly emotional, sensitive and strong willed 4 year olds.

Now, this is just our experience. I must say that age 4 isn’t only serving whine. It has been fun and so cool to see them grow – especially together. So, I’m not complaining about it all. It’s the emotions and power struggles that we’re dealing with – that yank our heart out one moment and want to snuggle in that very same moment. Like, who really is in charge? Every age brings its beauty and surprises us with its beast… just when we get comfortable and confident in our parenting ways.

I am so grateful for our lazy summer and hope I can find my bag of tricks while winter sets in for the next 5 months or so. And, like a gust of wind we will be singing the Birthday song to five year olds – I hear that’s a fun stage! 😉 😉

Self-Centered: YOU do you (Today Parenting)

 

mom-relaxing*NOTE TO THE READER: Before you read ahead, please follow these 5 basic instructions…

1. Sit down: Yes, please, you deserve a seat! Put that dish towel down, leave the laundry, quit multi-tasking, and just stop working for a moment!!

2. Put your feet up: I know, I know strange concept. Couch, ottoman, tiny chair meant for a toddler, Lego box, pile of dolls, anything will do.

3. Grab a soft blanket: Why not? We all deserve to be cozy, even if it’s just a ‘lap blanket’ from our children’s collection.

4. Take a deep breath and smile: Ignore what’s around you because I just need a quick moment of your time… ok, let me re-word that. YOU just need a quick moment of your time!

5. Ignore my cheesy undertone and listen to my sincere request.

________

The world tells us to give and empathize, share and care, welcome and embrace {those around us}. Our hearts tell us the same thing but guess who remains in the corner with the other dust bunnies? YOU! And you’re probably embracing those dust bunnies too, like the awesome parent you are!!!

Don’t get me wrong, I am not at all saying you should stop doing the above wonderful things, I’m just saying that you can’t forget about YOU! …and those dust bunnies don’t need that much love.

Let’s be self-centered together. Just once and maybe monthly after that, and then we can progress to weekly and daily.

Try it: Be SELF-CENTERED. This idea is uncomfortable. The word is negative, conceited and egotistical. It carries guilt and shame that offends and lacks admittance. Or so the dictionary and society says. I also enjoy getting your attention with an unexpected word that causes a bit discomfort. Sorry (but you’ll be fine, I promise).

All of this sounds bad, but what you’re missing is that sometimes you have to spoil yourself a bit. Even when you don’t think you should – that’s probably when you most definitely should. Stop hugging the sidelines and letting everyone and everything else be in the center all the time. I dare you to selfishly finish all your breakfast while it’s hot. You deserve to pee with the door closed, maybe just once today. Please please give yourself a moment to breathe. I know you’re not holding your breath (well, most of the time), but I challenge you to step out of the chaos. Find a pantry or a hidden space in your home and deeply inhale and exhale. This is so darn selfish, but you NEED it! …and you’re kind of a super human who probably doesn’t say no to challenges. So……… GO!

____

Feel better? Great.

____

Now, I have one last request. Since you’re in the center now, this is perfect timing! It will feel weird, kind of silly, awkward, and well slightly egotistical.

Go to the mirror. Give yourself a hug, maybe a wink and say, “I am an awesome parent.”

The end! That wasn’t too hard, was it? Now, I suppose you have to go back to reality and be the darn selfless person you normally are. But I challenge you to do this again soon! Maybe next month, next week, or tomorrow?!

Good luck! It’s not easy being so self-centered.


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As always, Thanks for reading.

.:26:. Let it Be | My memories + a great reminder for all.

siblings

This is a favorite sibling photo of mine, but for this post add a few more years and a few more colors to my striped turtle neck…

Paul McCartney rings in my ears and I reminisce back to road trips as a kid. Six of us in our tan and brown suburban listening to the Beatles while on our way to a new campsite to explore. Sailboards strapped to the top, bikes clanking on the trailer, and the cab packed perfectly like a winning Tetris game. We all have unique memories from our childhood. Different moments that stand out more than others. For me, I often think of these car trips and how I could sing along to most Beatles songs since they were the soundtrack to many of our family trips. At least this is how I remember it.

My oldest brother probably listening to something more current on his yellow walkman while passionately drumming on his leg (Van Halen or Def Leppard make for some great leg drumming) and my other brother practicing card tricks to surprise us with at our campfire breakfast while chomping on Big League Chew. My sister paging through a Babysitter’s Club book in her white Keds and stonewashed jeans and my mom gripping on to an empty Wonder Bread bag just waiting for someone to get car sick. My Dad singing along to the Beatles and frequently sharing a cool fact about the Beatles or something fascinating about nature and me writing an especially awesome entry in my top secret diary or working on my 100th friendship bracelet – pinned to my pants.

Now, as a parent I get caught in the crazy moments and forget to just Let it Be. Written actually for his Mother Mary who told her son to “let it be” in a dream, this song plays in my head more often than I realize. Must be a mother thing…When I take a step back from the chaos of parenting, take a breath and actually soak it all in, I can faintly hear that Beatles song playing as if I were a kid again in the back of that suburban. No cares, no worries, no fears. Just dreaming about roasted marshmallows, skipping rocks, and where to hide the key to my diary.

Too often we get lost in the intensity of parenting. The control we think we have and try so hard to manage. But that control, that plan we are following and lists we are checking are just clutter. Clutter in our brains and our hearts, getting in the way of just letting it be. Clutter not allowing us to sing and act on this need in life. The day will come when we wish this clutter could consume us again so we could find ourselves making that big decision to let it be… while kids play, make messes, learn, create, and challenge us in more ways than anyone ever warned us about. At the same time, it is our job to help our children relax too. The toddler world I am living in now, is filled with silly emotions and a lot of frustration. I am learning to get down to their level, eye-to-eye and teach them how to ‘brush it off’, how to move on when things don’t go their way, and how to just let things be while “speaking words of wisdom”. I’ve even broken out in song and received crickets in the midst of a tantrum. Must be the shock of their mom joyfully singing at the top of her lungs while their current world is “falling apart”. But crickets are much better than desperate cries for help… because Barbie’s shoe is just too tiny to get on (I agree little one, I agree).

A healthy parent-child relationship is symbiotic in many ways, as we are essentially part of each other. We learn from each other and thrive because of each other and in some ways we cannot live without each other – or imagine life apart. So, I will do my best to practice what I am trying to preach to them and let it be. Let life happen as beautifully as it should while visions of leg drumming, magic tricks, babysitter clubs, and friendship bracelets dance in my head.

It’s amazing how great memories can seep back into your life at just the right time.

Mr. McCartney’s Mom was a wise woman – thank you, Mary.

.:24:. To Err.

lemonplant

:: when life gives you a lemon plant, have patience and watch those lemons grow!


During pregnancy or preparing for baby and the first years that follow, parents turn into walking talking teaching machines (and many years after). Trying to avoid error in parenting, perhaps? Unfortunately, error is inevitable.

| To err is human; to forgive is divine.” |                            – Alexander Pope

________________

Well, thank you Mr. Pope but forgiveness to oneself can be difficult and doesn’t feel very divine when I can’t seem to figure out my newborn’s needs, when I’m up all night with an uncomfortable child who can’t tell me what’s wrong, when a kiss on a boo boo is not the answer, when I first heard the words, “I don’t want you, mama.”

>Where did I go wrong? <<

What happened to my machine… that teaches “right” and “best”. How did I err and why does it not feel human?

This is so easy to think and so easy to point the finger at yourself. “Going wrong” is just not the route I thought I took. From the start I did what I was suppose to do.

________________

Per the suggestion of some psychologist somewhere I remember reading children’s books out loud while my little girls developed inside me. Even before that I quickly had my hands on parenting books – making sure my husband and I were well prepared to raise smart, curious and wonderful little people.

>This is where I went wrong.<<

Well, kind of. I’m not saying being prepared, educated and excited is wrong but…

I didn’t allow myself to just be. I found myself referencing every “how-to” book and following steps like a puppet. When I let certain things work themselves out and I relied on my gut for answers – those were the moments we I learned so much more. To watch in awe as their little brains developed. Physiological and emotional growth cannot be fully controlled by anyone else, but that being. It’s a beautiful thing that we (parents) think we have so much control over. We have a little more control at the beginning and then we pray (really hard), that are teachings help them decide what is “right” and “best” as they go from scooting to running a marathon right before out eyes. While they are figuring it all out… they will ERR and it will be ok – especially if we are there to tell them that it’s all ok because they are HUMAN.

We don’t get a report card to see how we’re doing with our children. We don’t get to meet with a coach who high fives us for our victories or benches us for our faults. What we get is this…

>without request, unprompted<< children who say “I wub you mama”. who look you in the eyes and say “thank you”… and then “you’re welcome” – because that’s how they hear it ☺️.  Who joyfully sing their ABCs and really everyother song you sing together. Who surprise you by counting past 10 one day (did I teach them that?) and curiously ask and tell me what color everything in the world is.

They are determined to complete tasks on their own, gently pushing me away… This is new to me. I’m proud but a tiny bit sad that my babies have hit the ‘no mama, I can do it’ stage. They are particular when it comes to colors and specific when we choose books. Decisions are complicated but powerful. When they make one, their excited eyes delight with joy and confidence… “I will brush my own teeth, mama!” “No mama, I will read the book.” “I don’t need to hold your hand, mama.” “I can do it ALL by myself.” This confidence amazes me. They can’t be trusted to do all the above by themselves just yet, but I can’t get in the way of letting them err.  We’ve all heard this and have probably said it before but, they need to fail before they succeed. The common conflict and result from failure is the fear to keep trying, the fear that failure may occur again. We can’t allow this fear in our children and at the same time, we can’t allow this fear in ourselves. We are HUMAN and we need to watch our little ones err, praise them for trying and encourage them to continue, while showing them that we also err and keep going.

As a parent, the most difficult part for me is knowing that they can keep going through failure in all aspects of life. That they can forgive themselves and others who may fail. I will not always be there to offer a helping hand or a wise word when someone shames them for failing, when someone discourages them or denies them the ability to succeed. But I can give them the best tools to embrace err, positively respond to negativity, succeed in their own way and be happy and confident little people.

Thank you Mr. Pope for shedding so much light on us humans – even before your fellow innovator, Mr. Edison, brought us an actual light.

Now, I must get on with my day… embracing err along the way.

 

.:23:. // hibernation \\ 

^Bear cub A (Lainy) – – – – Bear cub B (Hannah)^

A few months ago (right before the real cold set in), I went on a chilly walk with my two little ones. We strolled past a grassy den-like cove, that looked as though it could be a perfect spot for a bear to fluff her pillows and chill until spring. I discussed this scenario with my girls – how bears hibernate, taking long naps until “the snow starts to melt and pretty little flowers bloom!” I made it sound very desirable with subtle persuasive cues alluding to how wonderful sleeping is.  …praying they would take a nice long nap when we got home.

Then I had one of those moments, as we continued our walk in silence… One of those daydream moments. I imagined myself nestled in that cozy spot, laying on freshly fluffed pillows, getting a wonderfully long nap… Just like a mama bear (in my story, bears love fluffy pillows). I imagined someone graciously bringing my girls home to their beds while I snuggle up in that den and get lost in sleep. Unfortunately,  I’ve been cursed with a terrible ability to nap – I’m not typical mama bear material… but the “daddy” bear I share my fluffy space with has a pretty comfortable relationship with hibernation ;).

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taken by one of my children and very fitting as this is the typical view of my lower half…

As a Minnesotan, I’ve proudly worn my puffy parka and big-ole-furry boots to the grocery store. I love when big pretty snowflakes fall from the sky, I can handle below zero weather and dark winter mornings haven’t kept me from being a morning person. – – – But as a mama in Minnesota, I now have my puffy parka pockets full of Kleenex, bandaids, disney chapstick, extra tiny gloves, crumbs of some sort, something sticky or just plain unknown… My big-ole furry boots once looked cute when I wore my sassy skinny jeans but now they stare up at me partially covered by my yoga pants and yell “get a hold of yourself! What is happening here?!”. Oh, and mornings… I’m still (what some might consider) a morning person. However, sluggishly rolling out of bed has become a more common introduction to the day. We push ourselves out the door like a roll of Pillsbury dough… you know the ones that “POP” open when you peel them and hit the container against the counter (release of aggression, EH?). Well, I’m not aggressive… and I’m not Canadian but their is a small sense of fulfillment when that tube pops open.  Where in the world am I going with this? This is exactly how we get out of the house. After all of the getting un-dressed/dressed/brushing teeth/throwing little tantrums/trying to look like tame sweet bears… once we “POP” out of our cozy den of a home, their is a huge sense of fulfillment + accomplishment. Really? Yes, with two toddlers who love playing in diapers and have a strong sense of determination when it comes to dressing themselves – inside out . upside down . slowly but surely – getting out of the house feels like I completed a marathon some days, and I only have two!

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Me + my bundled little cubs, just to walk into the mall…

Motherhood is tiring. Just ask any mama bear… Go ahead, she’ll tell you exactly why she naps for so long. Because she NEEDS it! Or she’ll growl and claw at you, due lack of sleep and frequent interruption of the hibernation she’s seeking.

>Funny story<<

Their once was a tired mama bear who never hibernated and she was extremely exhausted, and possibly a little irritable. With a smile and many sighs, she did what she could to keep her ‘coat’ clean and fluffy, her den in order and her cubs content. However…

…some growls and sharp claws may have come out a few times……..maybe.

The end.<<
Unfortunately, us mamas don’t get to nap like real mama bears, but we definitely deserve a break and time to ourselves. We need a little R&R, we need to slow down, take deeper breathes, fluff those pillows and chill until spring. Winter can really drag a mom down and wear her out – especially after months of being continuous toddler entertainment, while (mostly) indoors.

Now, excuse me while I go fluff my pillows in my den and close my eyes for a few months…

…or minutes. (very easy to get those two confused).


 

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///\\\

I’ll let daddy bear take over.

 

 

 

 

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.:22:. >>2016<< a new year | a new version | no need for resolution.

 

my mini juviniles : Lainybug (L), Hannah bean (R)

–>> a H A P P Y new year.

ball drops | clean slate | the year is NEW and so are you!

The year of chalk art, glitter + selfies has ended… Ha. Just kidding! I’m pretty sure all of the above will just become more 2016ish.

I’m not really one for resolutions.  However, the idea of them is exciting and trying to work on something NEW is great, but I’m fully aware and accepting of the fact that in many ways I may return to myself from the previous year and continue with the routine of life that I’m comfortable with. If you can believe it, I do consider myself a very optimistic person (even though this may not read that way)…

I’m not saying I can’t or won’t start something new, I’m not saying I won’t make or accomplish goals and I’m not faulting those who do make huge changes. To be honest… my belief is that a change of a date and the transition of a new year shouldn’t be what ignites significant change. BUT, our society says it should and well… it works for many people. On the flip side, a new year can leave some people dissapointed, ashamed, doubtful, and unhappy that they couldn’t follow through… that they couldn’t make a real change… that they didn’t see purpose for anything new in their life. Sadly, this view is reality for more people than you might imagine.

So, my plan is to make it simple by taking a general+neutral route and be OK with what will happen this year and what will not happen. I still have goals but the result of accomplishing those goals is not fully dependent on a single date (for me).

If I really had to put these thoughts in the form of a Resolution it would probably go something like this…

In 2016 : Unpredictable, exciting, and sometimes planful events will define the 2016 version of myself and (honestly), my goal this year is… to be OK with however that may happen.

 

Much of what I’m saying, or trying to explain has almost everything to do with the mini juveniles I’ve happily shared a roof with for the past two years. These two (lady bugs and jumping beans) have truly molded me into the person I am right now. Just as they do with their play dough – today I stand tall like a lime green tree and tomorrow I may be a colorful blob on the floor. As a mom of two toddlers, my goals/my plans/my life in general is wholehartedly unpredictable now. Ok, we still make “plans” per say but I’ve learned to roll with the punches more than I ever imagined. My past “go go go” way of living hasn’t fully left me, but I am noticing the need to slow down – especially for my two peanuts whose little leggies can’t keep up with mine all the time.  Now, I’m learning to stop more often and rest with my girls – even when we should be moving and getting things done. I’m taking more moments to really look my children in the eyes when we talk and truly see them learning, understanding and discovering something new!

Prior to children, I had big goals – I made resolutions – and at the end of the year I found myself with mixed feelings… content with the achievement of certain attainable goals as well as disappointed for not reaching goals that I said I would reach. I don’t want my children to see this side of a new year. I don’t want them to think that a date really has the power to make them someone else, give them the ability to be superwomen at the “drop of a ball”, let them make unnecessary changes – just to make a change, I want them to be happy with how life unfolds. I want them to know that they can be superwomen without huge changes, even without telling the world about it… and that’s OK.

My Type A side : has made goals and loves making “to-do” lists of lists… of lists. The realist in me understands how these lists will work – they will be rewritten and rewritten. At the end of the year, I can look back and say…

…I made some pretty great lists and well, I am OK with that.

…I accomplished x y z and well, I am OK with that too.

…I watched my two little people grow, learn and explore a world filled with crazy expectations and well – – – we will all be ok!

Their is something to say about looking back onto a year and simply being content with all that it had to offer and in many ways surprised by unexpected successes!

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