All Packed Up and Ready to Go

I'm always excited at the idea of vacationing as a family...that is until the reality of packing begins. It never ceases to amaze me how much stuff is required for our family to go on a trip. Some is necessity and some is probably my need to cover all my bases. I am prepared for sunshine, sunburns, rain, bug bites, asthma attacks, allergic reactions, hot weather, cool weather, cold weather, playing outside, playing inside, playing in water, and just about everything in between. I guess I'm just not a fly by the seat of your pants kind of girl. I think I could be without the kids involved...or maybe not. Now that the flurry of packing has finished with only small spaces to insert the kids remaining in the vehicle, I can finally take a breath and begin to unwind. It's a good things it's a 5 hour drive, it will probably take every minute of it to get out of preparation mode and into vacation mode...unless we hit a traffic jam...then it's on to diffusing Daddy mode. It's ironic how even in times of abundant blessings...vacations etc. we can still end up stressed and grumpy. Joy is always a choice...even in the good times.

Where Art Thou Balance?...and Niceness?

I struggled today with being nice. As my husband spent four hours bike riding this morning and is preparing to fly to Germany for a week tomorrow, I realized that I may be a little resentful. Resentful of his freedom? His ability to come and go? I'm not really sure. Approaching a year of breastfeeding and 5 years of being a stay-at-home mom, that may be the case. I love being at home with my kids. I love watching them grow and being a very active part in that. I also understand the reason some don't want to be home. It is an endless cycle of work which can be physically and emotionally draining and in which you are never off duty. The teacher in me had dreams of having theme weeks and special science days or cooking days with my kids. I thought I'd be energetic and creative and adventurous as a mom. Instead most days I'm tired, dull, and holding on for dear life. I realize that there are stages and having 3 kids 4 and under is a busy one. I'm still not sleeping through the night, which has proven to be a big factor in my coping ability. However, I wonder how much is perspective? If every morning I reflected on the gift of just being alive that day...would I still struggle so much? I also am finding that as much as I rebel against the "you need time for you" philosophy of life, I'm realizing there is truth to it. Everything in balance. How do I not be a selfish mom, but still take care of myself enough that I can continue to give to my family without being impatient or resentful? I wish there was a magic answer...a set number of hours or an activity that would help with finding that elusive balance I so crave. As the next few weeks bring some big birthdays in my household, I pray that I can lose the grumpy pants and spend way more of my day enjoying the beautiful children I've been entrusted with...it really does go too fast. And take one step closer to finding balance.

Hidden Talents

One of the things I love most about being a mom is getting to see the individual talents and personality of each child revealed. I remember thinking when I was pregnant, "What will my baby look like? What will he/she be like?" It is neat to see the answer to both of those questions unfold as they grow. My oldest son is playing t-ball this year. We tried soccer for the past 2 summers, but he seemed really intimidated by the mass attack of the ball. We let him choose a sport to play this summer and supported his choice of t-ball. Now I am the antithesis of athletic...my body was not made for sport. I have no flexibility, no coordination and no quick reflexes...not a good combination for baseball. In fact, I am slightly afraid of the sport and completely uninterested...until I saw it through G's eyes. He lights up as soon as supper is drawing to an end and we tell him to go get changed into his uniform. Not generally eager to help out, he is ready to collect his ball and glove and bat and helmet without even being told. His enthusiasm is persistent on the drive, during fielding practice, waiting to go to bat, at bat, and as he chases the ball around the field. His brother cries from boredom and his mother would not be far behind, except for my enthusiasm in watching his excitement and feeling that awesome sense of pride. He doesn't need to do anything but stand there and I'm just proud of him for being him. I love that baseball is not something that either his father or I particularly like. It is not something that has been forced on him. It is just a genuine interest and ability of my uniquely wonderful son. Joy comes in a lot of unexpected experiences and places...so take me out to the ballgame. Sorry, I couldn't resist.