Sit back and relax

It's been a long time away from this place- a place of release and understanding. I suppose the stresses of every day life, numbing routine, distract me from sitting down and letting it all out. The thoughts that have piled up in my head over the last few weeks sit patiently awaiting my not-so-graceful plop into this wooden yellow chair. Cracked hands bang out the words that have been eagerly anticipating release from the mixed-up depths of my head. But, here I am: sore to the dickens from a late night of dancing, pushing my over-grown bangs out of my eyeballs and wondering to myself whether there's any Easter candy left... It's better late than never, this whole writing thing. The thing is, I just haven't freaking felt like it. When I get off work, I pick Kade up, fix up a quick and easy dinner and hit the pillow literally moments after laying Kade down for bed. This weekend was Mommy time. There's a time for work, there's a time for Kade and there's a time (though not as often) for Mom. My time was spent on a dance floor, clearly evident by the way I'm arched over the keyboard. My body just doesn't work the way it used to, you know, pre-baby.

I could write an entire post on how I fell in love with a pair of bright red-orange overalls today. While Kade napped with Nana, I ventured to our local hand-me-down store and roamed the aisles for some new summer digs for my baby. Because he's such a petite little thing, it can be frustrating finding something that fits his length and width. He was blessed (and cursed) with his fathers long torso and short legs. Here I sat, on the floor of the Kid-to-Kid, defeated. But then; It was one of those moments when you come to the conclusion that an angel was watching out for you. The Osh Kosh Angel put them in my arms and from them, a chorus sang, take me home, love me, button me upon your baby. No, but seriously, I think bright red-orange overalls should be a staple in every childs wardrobe. Kade's personality seems to blossom in them. Maybe I'm partial to Osh Kosh, Because by  gosh, I practically lived in them as a child as well.

 

***

Mothering is a crash course in self-discovery. You have to find new ways to be you. Moms, in their motherly instinct, are artists. Combining ideas and resources in personalized, creative ways. But we are also scientists, testing a hypothesis we think will work for us as mothers. We tweak it again and again until the creative and scientific processes merge into something that works for us and our kids- a way to other that is uniquely our own.

 

When God thought of Mother, he must have laughed satisfaction and framed it quickly- so rich, so deep, so divine, so full of soul, power, and beauty was the conception. 
- Henry Ward Beecher

There are two things I've had to remind myself constantly as a mother. The first, that I am wonderfully made. When God knitted me together in my mother's womb, he knew that I would one day also be a mother. Yes, I would mother: at a particular time, in a particular situation, and, most importantly, with a particular child. When he promises that he will take care of everything I need, he isn't excluding what I need to mother my child well. God's generosity is endless; he's given me all I need to be a great mom to Kade. The second, simply, is that I was made specifically to match Kade's needs.

 

As a young mom, I can be conscientious about knowing and following the rules. Never drive with an infant in the front seat, never give in to tantrums, never let toddler sleep in parental bed, never allow children to watch cartoons.. The rules have ruled the way I mother. How well I follow them and how well Kade responds to me following them, leaves me trying to determine how successful I am as a mother. Don't get me wrong, rules are important. But there are two problems with this approach: 1, the list keeps growing and changing. One day I'm a good mom, the next I'm a bad mom. 2, Kade isn't always going to respond to the rules the way he's "supposed to." He's his own unique little soul, not a cookie cut out.

Ladies and gents, I have discovered a better approach. Instead of focusing on rules, I'm going to focus on the end result, a pretty picture of what I want Kade to be like when he turns into a big people. I want to influence his heart, soul, body, and mind. In my mind, I'm developing this big picture filled with the things I deem most important; things like faith, family, fun, respect, security, integrity, learning and independence. Back to moms being artists: I am a sketcher, a mother focused on filling that big picture with the intentional daily actions, activities, and attitudes that will result in a masterpiece.


And so, here we are. I'm frazzled and sore. But in the next room, my freshly bathed baby is snuggled with his lovey, fast asleep. I just threw those overalls in the wash because by george, I want him to wear them as much as he can, always on hand. Tomorrow, we'll wake up in the wee hours so I can go to work, a sad departure, but I'll be singing "see you soon, baby" the whole way to the sitter. And when I pick him up in the evening, I'll take him in my arms, spin around and giggle as he kisses my cheeks, My mama! We'll go on a walk before bed, because it's been a few days and we're both itching for the soothing movement of Mommy Baby walk time. The way I see it, each little moment is a pocketful of opportunity to teach him how to be a strong, loving person. I'm holding on to each moment for dear life.

***
As weekends go, this one was busy: filled with family, the perfecting of The Newspaper Hat, fat boy after fat boy and beautiful weather. Time for Kade, time for friends, time for relaxing and for working hard. As usual, it's all about balance, baby.

 

And now? Back to the real world: 

Healthy Heart Celebration

Tomorrow, April 12, marks one year since Kade received open heart surgery. It's incredibly humbling to think about- where would we be now if things hadn't worked out the way that they did? I can't bear the thought that things might have turned down a tragic road but have to remind myself always of the truth. We could have lost him. But the fantastic reality of this sad beginning is the incredibly happy new beginning. Tomorrow, we celebrate one year with a healthy heart. One year of progress, growth, strength. Last year, I found it hard to show any emotion toward the situation. I didn't shed a tear until they actually took him back to the operating room and that wasn't because of the surgery, but because he was so frightened and confused. I was holding my ground, showing a tough but nurturing exterior so that those around me, Kade especially, would feel confident in the procedure. The truth is, I was a nervous wreck, mulling over different outcomes in my head, wringing the statistics in my hands until they were raw. So today, a year later, it seems all the emotions I had bottled were released- like the cork of a wine bottle on a cruise ship. Meaning, there are tears, but they are such happy, warm, celebratory tears. They are tears of gratefulness,  tears of humility. There is a sadness there, but only a dull pang, over cast dramatically by the relief and encouragement I feel. Through Kade, I think all of us learned a little bit about courage. I expected him to be brave; he's a brave little soul. But I didn't expect him to be quite as brave as he was and continues to be. He's a little flame of hope, a blinding light of courage.

***

Of course, Easter happened since the last time I updated my blog. A time of reflection, faith, gratefulness for the incredible sacrifice given so that we could live-  Easter is life. It was beautiful, sunny and filled to the overflowing brim with family, hugs, and church services.
The way an Easter should be.

My little niece seriously just melts me. I call her Lou Lou. 

 

These cupcakes will forever go down in family history. My sisser and I, we're a hoot. 

 

 

Note: Kade was extremely cranky on Easter, hence the sparsity of his smiley face in this pictures.

***

I knew the day would come when Kade would have to move into a toddler bed. I just never guessed the time would be so soon. But it happened- he climbed from his crib and bumped his head. It didn't only happen once, but three times. I couldn't figure out how he was doing it- so toddler bed it was. I'm so impressed with how well he sleeps in it! With the exeption of a few rough nights, he stays tucked in snug and doesn't wander out in the wee hours. Also, that quilt on his bed is one I recently made. It's got an old vintage look to it that I love and is my inspiration to his new room decor.

Gotcha

My heart is drumming out a steady rhythm; so hard against my chest that it aches. But, it's the good kind of ache. Like the feeling you get on the first day of autumn, when the air is crisp and smells vaguely of smoke- like the end and the beginning of something all at once. And I guess that's what transition is, the end and the beginning. I write a lot about ebb and flow, beginning and ending, new chapters, old books... Because life is full of these incredible metamorphoses. We're meant to change immensely. For some of us, we become unrecognizable even to ourselves. People we've spent most of our lives in close contact with may whisper amongst themselves. I never knew she had it in her. I imagine that's what people think of me. I was a wildly emotional, unstable, shy little person just a few odd years ago. Today, I'm wildly happy. I'm stable, even in unstable situations. I'm outgoing when I need to be and calm appropriately. Of course, that little girl is still there. And she comes out sometimes, sometimes welcomed. This is the edge I dangle from; a teeter totter between insecurity and humble confidence. A friend of mine describes me as the "gotcha" type. Meaning, as I understand it, that I'm  quick to adjust to situations. If you call with news that will change the fabrication of the next week of my life, my likely response (although not verbatim) will be gotcha. On the outside I'm calm, reposed, in charge. On the inside, a volcano is erupting. I'm ready to push the big red SURVIVE button and switch into automatic gear. A constant routine gets me through it painlessly, a smile gets me through it happily, and God gets me through it gracefully.

A prime example: I was recently presented with an incredible opportunity to work at a terrific daycare just a short drive from my home. You'll be teaching the two year olds. Cue my "gotcha" attitude; I switch into high gear, put a giant smile on my face and look at all the incredible things these new little pals of mine will teach me. Never mind the fact that I'm so nervous I'm shaking and I wonder what on earth I was thinking. If you had a voice as soft as mine, you'd understand. They don't hear me. But there's a lesson there, even. Speak loudly and clearly, mean what you say, carry through.

***

Kade has developed his own little language. He doesn't talk much- quiet like his Mama. But when he does speak, it comes out in long strings of babbles. The one I hear most often sounds remarkably like "scrub a dub dub" repeated over and over. I try to hide my grin when he waddles up, so serious mama? scrubadubadubadubadubpicup? He's trying so hard to communicate, an encouraging reminder that he's learning and that when I push him Kade, use your words, he understands me.

I think I speak his language.

 

 

Breakfast has been a special time at our place these last few days. We're trying to eat healthier, try lots of new foods, spend more time at the table with just us two. After breakfast, if it's nice out, we go out on the patio. I finish my coffee, Kade roams about the yard chasing the cat and "mowing the lawn" with a toy lawn mower. It's such a refreshing way to start our day. It certainly puts us in a good modd and sets the scene for lots of adventure.

 

Another EyeLash picture. I can't help it. Just look at them! 

Notice how the cat is flinching. Poor Parker is picked on. 

***

This post is sort of all over the place, a testament that life is never as organized as we think it should be. When the words come, I type them. No more backspace key banging for me, no sir.