How to Age Your Mother

I treasure my mornings when I can begin the day alone with my Bible and God before the children wake up.  Sometimes with a cup of coffee, always in my favorite recliner, my days seem to start on the right foot when I have that half hour alone.

I was ready for the day, then, on that beautiful morning when my young son came downstairs.  He padded sleepily towards me for his morning snuggle, looking tousle-headed and cute.  When he was about three feet away, he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks and stared into the shadowy corner behind my recliner with a look of utter surprise on his face.  His eyes blinked to focus better, widened a little, and then he asked, "Who is that behind your chair?"

I managed to thwart my initial reaction of raising my eyebrows into my hairline as the prickles raced down my spine and my mind processed the info on high speed.  Someone behind my chair?  Had they been crouching there all morning?  Nah, couldn't be. I kept my voice normal and said, "No one is."

My son stayed stock still and stared behind my chair.  In complete innocence and with a seriousness and "the look" that told me he was telling the truth, he said emphatically, "Yes, there is!"

At that point I hoped he was seeing my guardian angel which would seem to be the most positive "someone" to have behind my chair.  But how likely was that?  My heart rate picked up pace and my voice assumed an unnatural tone as I told him, "Tell me who it is."

"It is Brown Bear!" he shouted triumphantly and dashed behind my chair to retrieve his stuffed friend.

As he climbed onto my lap, he had no idea the state my heart was in.  He adjusted himself and his bear and snuggled in for some mommy time.  I kissed the top of his head and asked, like any good mother would, "Did you sleep well last night?"  I was glad to hear that my voice sounded not quite as thin; apparently my vitals were returning to normal.

My morning had begun.

"They're Gonna Grow Up"

I'm not quite sure how I feel about that phrase.  Nor do I quite know how to respond to people who say, "They're gonna grow up, you know!"  I'm the kind that already gets teary-eyed when anyone mentions anything about my little boy growing up enough to go to school (only two years away!).  But at the same time, I'm also the one who has been a little relieved to know there will come a day when I can actually shower in peace without parenting as I'm doing it.

That dads can shower during daylight hours without interruption is interesting to me. I'm certainly not bitter about it.  It is just one of life's curious facts that puzzles me. 

Take Sunday morning for example. While John showered entirely undisturbed, the children asked their mother what he was doing.  And then it was my turn. I gathered my things and might have been six feet away from the bathroom door when I heard little feet pounding rapidly in my direction and I knew that I was only moments from having two extra people try to join me.  So I picked up pace and got the door shut seconds before the ritualistic shower-time conversation began.  It is inevitable that my darling two-some hover outside my door and squabble about things I cannot see or talk to me about anything that comes to mind.  I think I possibly feel a little honored as I imagine they are doing this to either keep me surrounded with their pleasant company or to continually check to make sure I haven't drowned.

"Mommy!"

Yes?

"I saw your coffee cup in the bathroom!"

Yes, I know.  (You see, I was multi-tasking to expedite our departure for church and drank my coffee while monitoring the children as they bathed.  No, coffee just ain't the same when you drink it in those conditions. Trust me on that one.)

"Mommy!!"

It was the Little One this time, using her very loudest voice to make sure it penetrated through a flimsy bathroom door.

Yes?

"Mommy shower?!!"

Yes.  Mommy is going to take a shower.

Just when I heard their dad calling them away from my door, I remembered that John had taken the children with him on an errand the day before.  I had wandered around for the first few minutes trying to think how to best utilize the quietness.  I played piano a little and worked on some writing.  But now as I heard a little voice back outside my door saying, "Mommy shower?  Oh.  Mommy shower."  I realized that maybe I should have used my time alone to shower in peace. 

I know. Someday they're gonna grow up.  There is a myriad of things about this age that I'm going to miss terribly when they do.  Things like their childish artwork in which their people have shirt buttons on their chins and arms where the ears should be. I'll miss them being just the right size to snuggle and I already get heart-pangs to think that this innocent, I'll-believe-anything-you-tell-me stage will end.  I'll miss the mispronounced words and darling kiddie quotes that I never get tired of, no matter how wearing the day has been.  I already know that someday I'm going to truly miss this golden age of parenting.

On the other hand, however, I can't imagine missing the days of having to turn off my water to be able to respond to the strings of unintelligible words being hollered at me through the bathroom door.  It sounded like he was telling me someone had fallen.  Was someone hurt? 

"Mommy!!!"  

Water off.  

I could hear him clearly now.  

"Mommy!! Don't fall down!!"  

Thanks, Son. Thanks a lot. 

"We Always" Moments

Does your family have traditions?  It should.  

Family traditions, no matter how small they are, make positive family memories that will last a lifetime.  Gwen Ellis, in her book Simply Fun for Families, calls them "we always" events.

Can't you just hear your children telling their own little offspring someday:

"My parents always prayed with me before I went to sleep."  

 "Every fall we always had hot spiced cider and cinnamon rolls after we raked leaves."  

 "We always had angel food cake for our birthdays."

"Every winter my mom made her signature cinnamon rolls that were out of this world!"

Traditions instill their parents values in their children:

"We always went to church every Sunday unless we were really sick."

"We always had family devotions together."

"My parents were always looking for more ways to support missions."

Little things aren't easily forgotten:

"Mom always sang when she vacuumed the floors after we were in bed."

"Every Sunday morning we had coffee in our pj's before we got ready for church."

Traditions don't have to be exotic and therefore aren't hard to create.  Our little family always celebrates birthdays and other holidays with a family slumber party in the living room.  Once our children turn two, they are considered old enough to join the fun.

So tell me, what "we always" moments are you making for your family to remember?

Ultimate Grilled Steaks

Some of these gorgeous summer evenings just beg to be complemented with a grill-out.  Our little family loves them, hanging out in the backyard while the food is cooking and sometimes eating outside as well.  These will be great family memories someday.  

I know.  That is a lot of meat on that grill.  And, no, we don't always eat this way.  The meal was in honor of my husband whose birthday called for some really special cooking, so I pulled out some carefully hoarded steaks from my freezer. That is significant because I'm the kind that hates to use special foods out of my freezer just because if I do, I won't have them anymore.  But John is well worth the use of steaks and these were fantastic! I even grilled extra to make fajitas with later.  Here's the marinade recipe which is going to be repeated at our house--provided I get the nerve to use more of my steaks. 

Ultimate Grilled Steak

1/2 c. A.1 Original Steak Sauce

1/2 c. Kraft Balsamic Vinaigrette Dressing

2 small cloves garlic, minced

1 tsp. dried oregano leaves

2 med. 8 oz. rib-eye steaks

Combine the marinade ingredients. Pour over steaks in a resealable bag, reserving 1/4 cup to drizzle over steak before serving and after it is grilled to perfection.  

Wow.  They were fantastic.

The rest of the meal was a delight:  Grilled corn (I didn't know it was so easy!) with seasoned butter, onion rings done on the grill's side burner to keep the nasty hot oil smell and mess outside where it belongs, and a homemade cherry cheesecake in honor of John's birthday.  Yes, yes, I know.  The diet starts when the cheesecake is gone.

The Dandelion

Ok, moms.  Can anyone relate to this??  This happened July 2 of this year.

Today must be one of the hottest days of 2014 to date.  I was sweaty and sticky as I loaded Sophia in the van to go to the grocery store.  I had one thing in mind: Get in AC!
     That's when Tyler caught my attention by saying, "Look, Mommy, this is for you!"
     He said it sweetly enough and was holding a dandelion in my direction.  It must have been the 269th dandelion he gave me this year and at the moment with sweat getting ready to trickle down my back and with the house all locked up, I didn't want a dandelion.
     "Oh, thank you!" I said, desperately hoping he'd leave it at that.
     He didn't. 
     "Where should I put it for you?"
     "I'm not sure.  The house is all locked up.  Why don't you just lay it down for me?"
     He looked at the little flower clenched in his fist.  The thing had to already be losing ground in this heat.  "But it will die if I just put it down."
     He climbed into his car seat, still holding the flower.  "Where should I put it?"
     "You will have to bring me a flower sometime when I'm in the house, ok?"  I was starting to feel impatient.  I didn't have time to deal with a partially wilted dandelion.  I took the flower from him and carefully laid it in the gravel.  "Here.  I"ll put it here and you can find me another one when we get home."  I strapped him in while he craned his neck to see the flower.
     "But I got that one for you."
     I should have followed my instincts immediately and went through the bother of unlocking the house, digging out the little bud vase I always use for dandelions, and put the thing in water, but I was in a hurry to get into AC and didn't.  Backing the van up, I saw a yellow flower laying in the gravel.  And driving down the road a minute later, all I could see was a  yellow flower laying in the gravel.  I adjusted the rear view mirror until I could see my little man sitting quietly in his seat, looking out the side window with his big ol' squishy cheeks jiggling as we went over a bump. It was then I realized that it hadn't been a flower I had rejected, but my son. 
     He didn't ask any questions when I turned the van around.  Not until we were almost home anyway.  "Did we get the wrong road, Mommy?"
     "No, we didn't.  Tyler, Mommy wants to get that flower you gave me and put it in water really quickly, okay?  It was very sweet and kind of you to give mommy a flower and I want to take good care of it.  
     I pulled into the drive, snatched the flower up, and got it in water, praying it would at least survive until we got home from town.  
     In the parking space at the grocery store, I opened his door and instead of giving him a hand to help him leapfrog out, I blocked his path and caught him in a bear hug.  We stood there hugging for a while with me telling him how special he is to me.  He was so sweet and said, "I love you, Mommy."  I could have cried.
     I hope in the future he'll give me another chance of treasuring the flower regardless of the moment because this is one lesson I think I've learned really, really good the first time around.

Originally posted at Hello, Darling.  :)  Isn't this an interesting world?  I submitted an edited version of this story to a MOPS (mothers of preschoolers) magazine/blog and it is being posted on their blog today which means what you just read is considered a reprint.

Celebrate the Weekend!

Hooray!!  Its the Weekend!
We really love weekends around here! Ours begin the moment John comes home from work on Friday evening; he often walks into the house saying, "It's the weekend!" There are a variety of reasons that make weekends my favorite part of the week, but by far the biggest reason is that John doesn't have to go to work which means we have two whole days to be together.  Now that's worth celebrating!

By the way, the neat thing about "celebrating" is that basically anything out of the ordinary is fun, no matter how simple it is.  Anything done differently than normal creates a memory which means it takes very little to give a special twist to any occasion. 

Simple Celebrations are fun...
Take one of our "It's the Weekend!" celebrations for example.  We decided to make cookies together one Friday evening by way of celebrating the weekend.  With my son hanging over my shoulder, I paged through a cookbook loaded with lots of great looking cookie pictures and let him choose which kind to make.  He chose, of all things, cut-out Christmas cookies decked out in red and green sprinkles.  This happened to be spring.  A quick family counsel resulted in the decision that though there were  flowers, green grass, and spring peepers alive and well outside, Christmas cookies would taste just as good in the spring as they do in December.  And so with robins looking at us cross-eyed from our Rose of Sharon outside the kitchen window, we baked Christmas cookies in celebration of the weekend. They may have been terribly out of season, but to my crew with their deep appreciation for any kind of cookies, they tasted wonderful.  

Game Night Idea...
Fortunately for families with a little more sanity than ours, celebrating the weekend doesn't have to include out-of-season cookies.  Do a game night sometime.  

Our game night included the cutest croquet court I've ever seen.  It must have been ten feet across at the most with only four wickets and the shiniest-eyed croquet player beaning his ball like a professional.  Well, sort of. He did better than we expected, but we fudged rules a little to let him have multiple turns when he got close to a wicket but not quite through. Fudged rules or no, it was grand fun for all of us.

Tonight starts the weekend; let's go celebrate!

Birthday Celebrations

Birthdays, especially in busy times of the year, can sometimes slip past without too much notice.  But I think one of the reasons God gives us birthdays is to give families a good excuse to have a fun evening together. 

All it takes is a birthday girl,

a fun birthday cake (with plates and napkins, of course, to match the theme or colors; ours were black and red lady bug plates),

a present or two,

and some friends to make it extra fun.  A birthday party was the perfect opportunity to include some Saudi Arabian English students in an American cultural experience.  They gave the present of choice this year: a little white puppy in a pink purse that the Birthday Girl carried around all evening and eventually took it along to bed for the night.  

I think there must be about three painful stages of aging:  

There are, of course, the legitimate physical aches and pains of being old;

which are preceded by the intermediate years of forgetting how old you are and when you do remember your age, there's a twinge of pain to realize you're hitting numbers you can remember your parents being;

but they all begin with the baby pains of learning to show on uncooperative fingers the age you just turned.  Our treasure is in that stage:

Learning to show 2 with the fingers

This is hard!