Friday, May 21, 2010
Multicultural Night
D'arcy had a multicultural night at school. Each grade had several group dances that represented different countries. D'arcy represented the good ole' U.S. of A. with a dance set to "We'll always be together" from Grease. D'arcy was a little disappointed that we didn't stay longer to watch other grades dance, but I felt like I had done all I could to be a "good" mom. I dressed her up and added makeup, I bought us tickets that allowed the kids to get pizza and icies, and I even brought my camera to document the event. Did I mention that it was 95 degrees outside and Julian was determined to convince me that the playground really wasn't closed even though it clearly stated "Playground closed" on a well placed sign? Sigh.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Thoughts on motherhood
Stephen asked me recently whether I enjoyed being pregnant. There are certainly loads of things that are not enjoyable; nausea, stretching ribs, stretch marks, contractions. Then there are those things that in my previous pregnancies I have greatly enjoyed but have not been as exciting this time; sporting a cute baby bump, wearing maternity clothes, and accumulating baby items. I think this has something to do with this being my fourth pregnancy but mostly has to do with this pregnancy coming so quickly after my last one.
What I told him, though, was that the privilege of being pregnant is getting acquainted with our baby before anyone else. He's looking forward to Maggie's arrival, but their relationship hasn't really begun. As I'm writing this, she is here with me making her presence known.
I was tempted to complain this week about my growing size. Then I saw a picture of little Oliver, the 4th son of my college friend, born at home on May 6th. Then I found out that my good friend, Autumn, at nine weeks gestation, miscarried. Of course, this miscarriage reminds me of the recent loss of my three little nephews. The grief of life being lost and the joy of life coming forth was definitely more overwhelming than my discontent in my size.
Listening to NPR this week, I heard a story which claimed that according to a survey children do not increase happiness. The conclusion was either we were making mistakes having children or they bring something to our lives that trumps happiness. Most moms in the world would probably scoff at this survey. Of course our kids make our lives happier.
But when we are truthful with ourselves, our kids probably increase our sorrow, our worry, our purpose, and our joy. Potentially none of these is directly equated to happiness or maybe they cancel each other out on the happy scale. I will say that my kids make my life rich with emotion, rich with work, rich with increased faith (necessary in the process). My life experience may not be happier but it is richer.
My birthday was this past week. I turned 29. Stephen and I were discussing what our reactions would be to turning 30. I'm embracing the perspective that getting older is only frustrating when you gain a year without having really lived that year, when you waste a year in fear, indecision, laziness, or materialism. I feel like my children have helped me to live each year.
Last Mother's Day, I believe I woke up in the middle of the night when Jello colored puke was coming from my children's bodies. I know I woke up in the middle of the night to feed our then one month old.
In contrast, today, I woke up when our five year old daughter came in to our room. She was the first one up in the house, remembered it was Mother's Day, and wanted the first words out of her mouth to be "Happy Mother's Day, Mommy." Then our one year old woke up and instead of crying simply said, "Mama" to let me know he was no longer sleeping. It was a moment that definitely increased my happiness.
What I told him, though, was that the privilege of being pregnant is getting acquainted with our baby before anyone else. He's looking forward to Maggie's arrival, but their relationship hasn't really begun. As I'm writing this, she is here with me making her presence known.
I was tempted to complain this week about my growing size. Then I saw a picture of little Oliver, the 4th son of my college friend, born at home on May 6th. Then I found out that my good friend, Autumn, at nine weeks gestation, miscarried. Of course, this miscarriage reminds me of the recent loss of my three little nephews. The grief of life being lost and the joy of life coming forth was definitely more overwhelming than my discontent in my size.
Listening to NPR this week, I heard a story which claimed that according to a survey children do not increase happiness. The conclusion was either we were making mistakes having children or they bring something to our lives that trumps happiness. Most moms in the world would probably scoff at this survey. Of course our kids make our lives happier.
But when we are truthful with ourselves, our kids probably increase our sorrow, our worry, our purpose, and our joy. Potentially none of these is directly equated to happiness or maybe they cancel each other out on the happy scale. I will say that my kids make my life rich with emotion, rich with work, rich with increased faith (necessary in the process). My life experience may not be happier but it is richer.
My birthday was this past week. I turned 29. Stephen and I were discussing what our reactions would be to turning 30. I'm embracing the perspective that getting older is only frustrating when you gain a year without having really lived that year, when you waste a year in fear, indecision, laziness, or materialism. I feel like my children have helped me to live each year.
Last Mother's Day, I believe I woke up in the middle of the night when Jello colored puke was coming from my children's bodies. I know I woke up in the middle of the night to feed our then one month old.
In contrast, today, I woke up when our five year old daughter came in to our room. She was the first one up in the house, remembered it was Mother's Day, and wanted the first words out of her mouth to be "Happy Mother's Day, Mommy." Then our one year old woke up and instead of crying simply said, "Mama" to let me know he was no longer sleeping. It was a moment that definitely increased my happiness.
Saturday, May 1, 2010
Faith comes softly
I tend to think that faith in children is not something that is solidified one day when they decide to pray "The sinners prayer". Instead, it is something they seem to gradually embrace. D'arcy has professed a faith in Christ, but it's neat to see that faith gradually become solidified.
The other day, Stephen and I took the kids over to our church for a work day. We moved into a new building about a year ago, and just finished our first round of intensive renovations. We were there to help put some finishing touches on the space before Easter Sunday.
After church on Sunday, Joy, who was leading the work day, mentioned that she was really encouraged that D'arcy came to her on several occasions during the work day to ask how she could help. Joy put her to work carrying trash to the dumpster and sorting screws.
When we got in the van to go home, I mentioned to D'arcy how impressed Joy was with her. D'arcy just sort of shrugged and said, "I love my church." Yep, I thought, it is HER church.
The other day, Stephen and I took the kids over to our church for a work day. We moved into a new building about a year ago, and just finished our first round of intensive renovations. We were there to help put some finishing touches on the space before Easter Sunday.
After church on Sunday, Joy, who was leading the work day, mentioned that she was really encouraged that D'arcy came to her on several occasions during the work day to ask how she could help. Joy put her to work carrying trash to the dumpster and sorting screws.
When we got in the van to go home, I mentioned to D'arcy how impressed Joy was with her. D'arcy just sort of shrugged and said, "I love my church." Yep, I thought, it is HER church.
Kids say the darndest things
D'arcy was trying to get Julian to do something this morning. As a bargaining tool, she said, "Julian you can call me silly for three days." Keep in mind that calling D'arcy does not consider herself silly and does not like to be called this for any reason. To my surprise, Julian actually bought into this deal.
D'arcy has lso been trying to come to grips with her daddy's uniqueness. "Mom, why doesn't daddy where a tie to work like every other daddy?" I wanted to tell her that the bigger question is why doesn't daddy wear socks to work. She also asked, "Mom, why doesn't daddy read the paper in the morning at the table?" I explained that daddy is "high tech" and that unless lifehacker.com starts putting their articles exclusively in a daily newspaper this wasn't going to change anytime soon.
D'arcy has lso been trying to come to grips with her daddy's uniqueness. "Mom, why doesn't daddy where a tie to work like every other daddy?" I wanted to tell her that the bigger question is why doesn't daddy wear socks to work. She also asked, "Mom, why doesn't daddy read the paper in the morning at the table?" I explained that daddy is "high tech" and that unless lifehacker.com starts putting their articles exclusively in a daily newspaper this wasn't going to change anytime soon.
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