In the next week, I will be taking each one of the kids out of school for our annual “hooky day with Mom” event. We all look forward to this day – them because they get a full day away from school just to have a little fun, and me because I get quality, uninterrupted, one-on-one time with each child individually.
It’s amazing what comes out in each of their personalities when they get me all to themselves. Add to that the fact that we’re doing something that they chose to do, that speaks to each of them individually, and I find that I suddenly get to know each one of them in a new and different way.
Sloan is first, because last year he had to be last and it rained on his day, which means we were relegated to seeing a movie at the last minute. It’s supposed to rain again today, but that won’t matter, because this year he’s decided he wants to visit Titanic: The Experience in Orlando.
This is my kid who loves history. He is fascinated by museums and relics, and by the drama of the past. I love that about him. He’s curious, and he comes alive when learning about the lives who came before us. So in just a few minutes, we will pack up the car and make the trek to Orlando. No doubt he will talk my ear off before we arrive.
He has lots of words to say.
I’ll be drinking one more cup of coffee before we leave.
Tia and Landon have already decided they want to go to Busch Gardens on their days off. Tia likes the shows, and most of the rides, though I’ll be stuck watching her ride most of the time this year.
Landon just likes the movement, the animals, and the fact that he can be outside for a whole day alone with me. When it’s just me and one child, I’m able to indulge them all a little more. They get to play games, eat food, and stop at attractions we wouldn’t normally stop at if we were all together.
There’s something magical about skipping school with my kids. I plan to keep this tradition up all the way through high school. I get roughly eighteen years with these kids at home. Eighteen years to build memories before they head out to make memories on their own. I will take every opportunity I can to build memories that last.
I want the kids to know that there’s freedom in life – that you don’t always have to be bound to a schedule, and your time doesn’t have to be dictated by the responsibilities laid out before you.
Life is fun, so why not take a time out now and then to celebrate the fun with the people you love most? Right?!
Happy Wednesday, friends. I’m off to take a step back in time on the doomed old ship with one of my favorite people in the world.
Whether your children are still at home with you all day long, or you send them to school for long stretches of the day, motherhood can feel like a solo act.
We wander lonely as Clouds from time to time, don’t we?
I’m here to encourage you moms who are feeling lonely, who feel you lack purpose, you are not alone. It’s hard to push ourselves outside the boundaries of motherhood and seek the Daffodils of life.
If you Google the phrase “Do Mothers Feel Fulfilled?” you will see countless articles speaking to this very natural struggle that takes place when we become the caretakers of small children. We love them dearly, and we know that we have value in this world through them, and yet…
We so often struggle with this feeling of not being enough. We aren’t doing enough. We aren’t contributing enough. We aren’t good enough.
I’m here to tell you (and myself) that these feelings are completely normal and natural, and they will ebb and flow through the years. Earlier this year, I felt ballooned with purpose. I was excited to get up every day. I felt fulfilled both in work and at home. I felt like I was on my game.
This last month? Not so much. I’m bored. I feel like my career is at a stand still. I feel like everyone but me is accomplishing goals. I feel frustrated as a mom, as a writer, as a human being.
Motherhood comes with seasons of great joy, and moments of loneliness – of wandering and of dancing. Just don’t give up, Moms! Don’t give up on your dreams, don’t give up on your house, don’t give up on the kids, and whatever you do don’t give up on the laundry, because you will never be able to crawl out from under it.
Sometimes we dance like the daffodils. Other times we wander like the cloud.
But my gosh, our job is important. Whether we work inside or outside the home. Whether we have one or ten kids. Whether our kids are grown and living independently or still in diapers. We are doing amazing work – even when we don’t feel amazing.
So this one is for the moms who are feeling down, who are feeling like they just aren’t enough.
Dance with the daffodils, my friends. You are enough.
For the most part, the focus of this blog will remain on the endeavors in which I find inspiration. I also want to focus on YOU. I want to hear your stories, to hear your dreams, your plans, and your goals, and I want to feature them here in this space. Because inspiration is elusive at times, and it takes on so many different forms.
Many times, we find our greatest inspiration in one another.
If you have a story to tell, a project to share that you’re particularly passionate about, or a dream that you’re working toward that you would like to share with this community of inspiration seekers, please click the box that says Connect and let me know! I’d love to have you guest post, or to write a feature post on your behalf.
In addition to dream chasing, inspiration seeking, and story telling, I will intersperse my every day life here in this space as well. I still want to record the happenings of life so that as I get older (and, let’s face it, more senile), I can look back and remember the joys, the trials, the humor, and all the living that took place in our home and community.
With that said, I’m 14 weeks pregnant now.
What?!
On the one hand, I feel like it’s flying by, and on the other I find myself completely over it. Remember, I didn’t really want to do the pregnancy thing again. This wasn’t my plan. Add to that the fact that I feel crummy all. the. ever. lovin’. time, and you can understand why I may be a tad weary.
I’m not complaining. I’m just telling it like it is. I feel nauseous from the moment my feet hit the floor to the second my head hits the pillow. I’m exhausted, but I can’t sleep. I get headaches frequently, and I have had to make myself start choking down vitamins this week because I know that I need to.
But enough about that.
The silver lining is that I’m pushing full steam into the second trimester, and if I remember correctly, all this should begin to subside here shortly.I’ve also tiptoed into the world of Essential Oils, and in just a few days I’ve begun to notice a marked difference in how I feel thanks to the help of a little oil called Lavender.
Things are looking up.
And smelling lovely.
Boy or Girl?
We should be able to find out if we’re having a boy or girl in the next seven weeks or so. If I had to make a prediction right now, I’d say girl, because Tia also dragged me through the ringer of insomnia and nausea, while my boy pregnancies were always smooth sailing.
Truthfully, I will be thrilled either way. I’d love to have a girl because I’ve always wished I had a sister, and I’d love my daughter to have the benefit of that which I do not. But I also adore little boys, and I’ve fallen in love with a certain boy name, so I’m game for either one.
As if I have a choice, right?
Emotionally, I’m doing fairly well. I have moments of intense excitement when I think of having a baby in the house again. Then there are moments of intense panic when I think of having a baby in the house again!
I’m filled with gratefulness that the Lord chose to bless us with another child, yet I still wrestle with the conflicting emotions of longing to adopt, and not understanding why that feeling remains so strong.
The beauty of pregnancy is that there is time to work through all of this before baby comes home. We’re headed into a new season filled with so much joy and blessing. A little bit of nausea is all worth it in the end, and in the meantime I will keep on offering up prayers of thankfulness for the beauty and the trial, both of which are knit tightly together, intertwined so that one cannot operate without the other.
Happy Wednesday, everyone. It’s almost Friday! That’s always cause for celebration.
Fanciful daydreams of a life of grandeur are the things that make childhood so magical. Perhaps one of the greatest tragedies to strike the fatherless is the stripping of innocence – a building block of dreams.
My daughter and I had a few moments alone in the car last week, and she reminded me yet again of the power of a good dream. We were on our way to her gymnastics practice, and she didn’t really want to go. She was tired, she wanted to stay home and fight with play with her brothers, and she just wasn’t in the mood for a four hour workout.
After a few tense moments of whining and pouting, she quieted down and took a deep breath.
“Mom?” she asked.
I glanced at her through the rearview mirror and reminded myself that she’s still so young. Big eyes hover over soft, full cheeks and a nose dotted with fine freckles. I waited for her to speak. She is the child who needs space to prepare her thoughts, slowly and deliberately choosing each word.
“I don’t want to play soccer next year.”
I was surprised by this comment. It was random and didn’t fit the context of our previous conversation. “Okay,” I answered. “You don’t have to.”
“I just don’t see myself as a soccer player,” she said, and I bit back a smile.
“Okay.”
“And I really don’t want to play softball,” she continued, her voice strong and adamant.
I turned onto the street where her gym was located and tried to follow along with her train of thought, to connect the dots from the anger about having to leave for gymnastics and the present conversation. I had a moment of panic, wondering if she was leading up to telling me she didn’t want to do gymnastics anymore. It’s a decision I would support, but it would break my heart, because she has so much talent.
“Well what do you see yourself doing?” I asked, guiding the car into a parking place in front of the gym. I put it in park and shifted so I could look her in the eye. She glanced out the window and a small smile spread across her face.
“I see myself at the Olympics,” she said. Her voice was wistful and dreamy and I couldn’t help but grin. I know that look, and I know what she’s feeling. When I was eight, I saw myself as an Olympic gymnast, too. I remember imagining the podium, and what it would feel like to watch the flag raised with my anthem playing. I envisioned this with the images of Mary Lou Retton shimmering in my mind.
“I’m ready now,” she said. “If I’m going to go to the Olympics, I guess I have to practice, huh?”
There’s something about childhood that makes dreaming so enviable. Right now, there is no doubt in her mind that her dream of going to the Olympics will come true, and there’s no part of me that plans to altar that dream with anything resembling a dose of reality. I know that with time and age, her dreams will shift, and they will mature, and they will change.
But I don’t ever want her to stop dreaming.
Too often as adults we let reality bury our dreams in a pile of salt. We become so practical that we forget the power of a healthy dream. We don’t let our dreams grow and mature with us, and we abandon the act of dreaming altogether.
My childhood dream of making the Olympic team is no longer a reality (though I think I could still have a shot at Curling. I mean, seriously…how hard could it be?!).
But there are realistic dreams that fit my life now, and I’m tired of pushing them aside. I dream of publishing books, of working more with organizations that support orphan care, of not settling and growing comfortable with a life of ease.
I dream of keeping a clean home.
Wait…never mind. That one is about as likely as me becoming the gold medal All Around gymnast in 2016.
The fact is, I don’t have to stop dreaming any more than my eight year old does. And what’s more – I need to chase my dreams as hard as she is chasing hers. I need to push for them, even when I don’t feel like it.
