Cherishing Some Words of Wisdom

"Just take it easy, let them play and let them have fun. They remember this time of their life. You don't think so, but as years go by,...like me....I think about what I did when I was a kid all the time; the things I did with my Mother and games and toys I played with. This is when you are making really good memories with your kids and they will look back on them some day. Just take care of yourself and your children. Don't over do it. When they get you mad, just sit down with them and take a minute to be with them. Quiet. Just remember, they are kids and they will act like it." - My Grandma (My Mommy's Mommy)

I have been overwhelmed with events lately. Not your every day, normal events like work dinners, PTO meetings and playdates, but more like crazy life events. Memorable milestone events that will go down in Mommy history.

I finished up my part time job as an HR Specialist on Friday. It was a pretty big deal for me since I have been in Human Resources for about 15 years and when I started this part time position, Kyle was only an infant - 18 weeks old, to be exact. I had made good friends while in this role and really did not think I was ready to move on. But as the decision was made for me and I realized that my interest level and patience with it all had diminished, I was accepting of new opportunities. But the fear of the unknown was hanging over my head. I started my new position at the same company on Monday. From the moment I stepped out of my car in a new town, I heard jazz music being played along the side of the building as I walked in. The welcoming voices of the excited team that I would now be working for greeted me and I immediately felt really happy. For the first time, I was actually enthusiastic about this new direction my life was taking.

In the midst of these changes, I was blessed with conversations with other women and men in the workforce with whom I felt connected to. Other Moms that had been through what I am going through now. I listened to their passion and drive about wanting to spend quality time with their children, wanting to still work and be fulfilled in a professional capacity, wanting to juggle it all in order to be there for their kids and being the best Mom they could be. The women were either in the middle of this Mommy dilemma or spoke of their days of young parenthood and the sacrifices they made in order to stay home with their children all while still maintaining their professional standing and reputation. It was so encouraging to hear other women speak of their paths, hard decisions and new doors that opened for them. I was enlightened and refreshed with these perspectives and I truly cherish those conversations more than they probably know. It really helped me to see that I am not alone and that what I truly desire more than anything really can be obtained. It was the power of these conversations that gave me even more strength to just be ME. And as I sit here quickly writing this now, I am thankful for the moments of quiet and the moments of crazy with my children because I AM with them because I stuck to my guns and kept after what is truly important...these precious times of their young lives.

Each little spec of wisdom is so important to gather. No matter where we get it from, we need to keep a virtual basket with us and put that wisdom in. The cool thing is that the specs grow and multiply and feed off of each other and they make us who we are. We can pull from that basket any time. I guess we should not be afraid to ever share our own wisdom with others. We may not think what we have to say is very powerful, but just by chance; someone else may have their heart open and ready to hear what you have to say. They may be standing there waiting with their basket, collecting, cherishing and remembering the words that you said.

Other recent events of mine include time outs, behavior charts, Lego-banning, potty talk, disrespectful words and just blatant misbehavior. Over any job I have ever had, I am most challenged in the role of Mom at this particular time of my life.... more than ever. My husband and I face our four-year-old head on every day and try our best to manage and stay in control of the situation. But I confess right here, right now.... it is so hard. I have been crawling into bed at 9:00pm each night absolutely exhausted, feeling like I have been run over by Thomas the Train. I feel like I have tried every tactic to get him to listen and to behave. Sometimes the tactics work, sometimes.... not so much. And sometimes, for absolute sure, this child is definitely THE cutest thing in sneakers. He can melt my heart with the drop of a hat. He can be so good and well-behaved and then suddenly like a flick of a switch.....goodbye cute and cuddly. So for those of you reading right now.... if anyone is out there with any advice for me at this trying time of '4 year old vs Mommy', I am here. I am desperate. I am hoping for answers. I am begging for wisdom. My basket is open. Thank you.

Cleansing

The other day, I was driving along the highway through the brown slushy mess that Mother Nature left behind. There was a truck in front of me that was kicking up all that muck into the air and right at my windshield. It was a dark, dreary day and I was driving to my Doctor's appointment to figure out why I have been having episodes of breathing problems. In that moment, I was feeling rushed, stressed and overwhelmed. As I drove, it started getting brighter and though it was still bitter cold and wet, the sun started to peek through the clouds. Don't get me wrong, it was not as if the clouds parted and the big beautiful, yellow sun shown down on me like a ray from God or anything. But a rainbow appeared right in front of my car; probably from the mist of the dirty slush that was spraying at me from the truck in front. The sun hit that muddy water just right and created a beautiful speck of rainbow for me to enjoy the whole rest of the way to my appointment. Some of the stress lifted for me. Through the filth, dirt and muddy snow, there was this wash of clean that shown through, making me see some beauty in all that mess; the mess on the road that day as well as in my own head.

I think I need to notice more rainbows in my days. I feel like there ARE rainbows to notice every day. But I just need to actually SEE them....notice them.....appreciate them.

The snow storms have been frequent this winter causing one school delay or cancellation after another. My children have been climbing the walls needing, wanting, demanding fresh air and a change of pace. We have worked together on more lessons of sharing, learning new games, perfecting old ones and creating beautiful works of art. There has been time to clean and organize rooms and old clothes. The boys and I also went through their older toys they do not play with anymore and picked which ones we should donate to other kids who might need them more. I felt ok cleaning out these toys and organizing. It helped me to have a clearer focus once it was done. The house was clean and organized and though it was hard on the boys to let go of some of their special toys, we all liked the new arrangement of a clean playroom and space for them to have new adventures. I think part of the process of cleaning anything in our life is a feeling of letting go of the old and being ok with moving forward.

And so, I found that I am more in tune with the process of cleansing and what it means to me, my house, my mind and my life and being able to move forward. My boys are just trying to be more focused on cleaning the table, cleaning up their Legos and the intricacies of brushing their teeth. How proud they are when they have completed the task. Smelling the Huuuuh, Huuuuh of freshly brushed minty fresh teeth, big grins to show off those clean pearly whites and the aromatic scents of cleanliness from the Sponge Bob pump soap to prove that hand washing actually did take place. This is what it means for them to cleanse, to let go of the dirt and plaque. Ahhh, to be a kid.

Last week, our house started to leak because of the heavy snow on our roof. It has been a scary, out of control feeling for both my husband and I. Water spots appearing in different areas of the ceilings and walls. Streams of water seeping through our windows and doors. Buckets propped up and old panty hose filled with rock salt hanging from our roof. (our neighbors thought we were losing our minds -- until they realized what exactly we were doing with those "socks.") My clean and newly organized office/playroom would now be a storage area for all of the items I had to remove from our attic. I was forced to go through all of the baby toys and clothes I was holding onto for sentimental reasons. I suppose I did not think I would be going through all of these items so soon after my children had just finished using them. I was going through the motions of removing each card board box and transferring toys into big plastic bins to protect them from water damage. I was on autopilot and finally stopped to catch my breath. I looked around the disorganized mess in my office and as my eyes crossed over each section, I realized how fast time had gone by already. The baby swing, the booster seat, the little giraffe that Kyle played with non stop when he was a toddler. It was all now just in a big messy pile in the middle of my office. At that instant, my heart had just caught up with my brain and I fell apart. Nearly falling to the floor in exhaustion and emotion, my husband caught me in his arms and held me so tight. Through the tears, as my laughing children ran up and down the hallway, I explained to my husband my Mommy-misery in that moment. As I think back now, I realize it was a cleansing moment for me. A moment of timing and realization. It was my muddy rainbow for the day and I was able to have special cuddle time with my boys a few minutes later.

Now, even though our house looks like a storage facility, couches, chairs and the TV are moved in odd places so as to not catch any water, pictures have been taken down off the walls and more buckets are on the ready, I am being cleansed by throwing things away. The non essentials are really becoming more and more clear to me. We all have our ways of cleansing or helping ourselves feel OK with the world and surging forward. Charlie holds tight to his stuffed hippo; "Baby Luke" and stuffed puppy; "Baby Leah" in his times of need. Kyle loves his soft feety pajamas and two pillows propped up just right at bedtime. I now find myself trying to let go of hard expectations of myself, find time for my outlets like writing, creating new friendships and cherishing old ones and of course, throwing away clutter; the real stuff and emotional junk. The sound of my boys laughing is THE most immediate way to cleanse my soul for sure.

So, we live in this healthy moment, clean of bad thoughts and negative energy. We are staying as dry and warm as we can. We laugh. We play. We try to breathe (though difficult at times). And we are here now with each other clearing away the daily dirt and plaque in our lives, letting go of the old and being ok with moving forward in search of our daily muddy rainbow.

Deep in the Heart of Motherhood

As the winter storms are raging, temperatures are dipping below zero and we are stocking up on moisturizing lotions by the barrel, amazing things are happening right before my very eyes that warm every particle of my being.

All of this nasty weather has caused our local schools to close or delay one day after another and require me to work from home to be with the boys. It has been a bit frustrating having to call into work to tell them I will not be present yet another day while everyone else still has to drive in the fairly dangerous conditions. Putting that weird conundrum of feeling guilty and bad about work aside, I have been able to bond with my children during this time of my life when I have needed it the most. Feelings of importance and strict prioritizing have become so clear to me.

I do not think the boys really know what to make of all this time home with Mommy. "I'm home with her, I'm at school, I am back home with her, it's Saturday, no...wait, it's Tuesday....right? Is it? Are we going to school tomorrow?" It's all pretty confusing. Even for me. My little guys who are now 4 and 6 have been instilling a feeling of excitement and rejuvenation in me lately. I am not sure whether it's all the extra time indoors with them, the "no school thrill" or just me not being suppressed by the confines and stresses of being physically present in my current "work situation." I think the distance and absence from the toxins is another positive contributor to my recent state of joy.

For me, it is and should be all about little (clean) fingers in the cookie batter and small bodies climbing up on a big chair to stand on in order to reach the counter to help me make dinner. This week provided me with many gifts of moments like those and others like Charlie's tiny hands holding my face and with his big brown eyes looking into mine, he said "Mommy, you're sooooo cute and your pajamas are so soft." The excited childhood squeal of my six year old when the new Lego set we had ordered came in. Left over from birthday/Christmas returns, this was what he wanted, but had to wait for it to come back into stock. He waited....and waited. When the email finally said it shipped, he counted down every single day. When he woke up in the morning, he would promptly tell me how many days were left until it was delivered. Telling you I was welling up with tears of my own excitement to see how elated he was the night it showed up on our doorstep early, probably does not even give you the depth of what I was feeling at that moment. He shouted "Thank You's" and "Oh My Goodness's" and could not wait another moment to open the box.

The past few weeks will hold memories for me of piggy back rides in 23 inches of snow, teamwork of shoveling the driveway together, sledding, snow angels, time with good friends, random "I love you's" and "I missed you's", puzzles, baking, drawing and coloring pictures. My description would also not be complete without including the incredible amount of time that two boys could possibly play with Legos! Please do not misunderstand me, it has been hairy at times with the typical meltdowns, tears and tug-o-wars over parts and pieces of toys, books or an invasion of their own quiet moments alone with a toy. I truly must admit, I had trials and tribulations (meltdowns) of my own at times. Conference calls while poopie bottoms run out of the bathroom and shouts of frustration are heard in the background because Kyle knocked down a piece of the family room tent we had built earlier. Phone interviews that had to include an explanation of why I needed to continue to put the call on hold to tend to a light saber versus full glass of milk or referee a battle of whether Luke Skywalker could wear Han Solo's Lego pants or not. I have to confess, sometimes all I heard in some of those meetings was Charlie Brown's teacher.

Words and actions mean so much. My children set the precedence for what words really mean for me. I know which ones I can take at face value and which ones they are spewing out at me to get a rise. This is more than I can expect of some adults in my life. I also adore how they use their whole body to tell a story or express their emotion; the shrugged shoulder walk of disappointment, the excited arms and hands flailing around and the jumping up and down in a thrilling moment. They are shy, they are cute, they are impossible, they are restless, they are happy, they are fearless, they are funny, they are cranky, they are sad, they are active and they are relaxed. In their most innocent ways, they are real in every moment. They do not truly know awkward or inappropriate just yet. They just feel and react and love with everything they are. I needed to be closer to them, to knowing, to understanding, to feeling and just being with them. Mother Nature awarded me this invaluable gift of unavoidable closeness and bonding this past week and a half (I hear there may be more nasty weather in store for this week and next) and I am eternally grateful.

With every breath I take, (asthma riddled and all) I love my little boys more and more. So for now, I am soaking in the subtle changes and growth of their little bodies, their expressions and their construction of thoughts. I realize the challenge will continue as I try to balance the work, the weather issues and being completely present with my children, but as long as feety pajamas, thumb wrestling and cuddling are some of the main priorities in this house, we will be happy...and warm this winter.

Innocence

There is nothing like a fresh pressed kissed on your cheek from someone that is one of the be-all, end-all people in your world; your sun, moon and stars. This tiny little gesture means so much and gives a warm feeling inside. The little lip puckered push against the side of your face makes you feel loved and makes you feel safe. As adults, we tend to let the moment slip away and we move on with what we were about to do before the peck. But what do my children do? Without much thought, a quick automatic flow of motion of the palm of their hand presses in the smooch so tight. They don't want it to blow away! "Push it in Mommy! Before it goes away! Quick!" The moment means the world to them. The kiss is their way to show this overflow of feelings. You must take that seriously. If only I could think like this.

I say it all the time, how much my children teach me. But the innocence that exudes from their daily habits and thoughts is amazing to me and I want to learn. I hope I am teaching them about common sense and factual information about this world. But in so many ways, I want to reverse my "adultarian" attitude and look at life from their hearts; their gigantic, innocent, full of true love hearts.

My children are truest of true in situations like when they collapse on the dining room floor because they are honestly losing the battle of tired versus awake. "I want tacos!" "I don't want tacos. I wanted milk." "I don't want milk!" "Can I have dessert?" At the end of these types of meltdowns, I find that sometimes I wish I was crying and stamping my feet right with them. But I am the adult keeping composure and patience. Come on, don't you wish you would just give in to the dragon inside you sometimes and just let it all out even if it did not make any sense to anyone else but you?

I love it when the little amazements creep out of my children's thoughts like someone left the door open a crack and I can see the small line of light from the next room. It's a small peek into their sweet & innocent brain playroom. They didn't mean to let me in, but there I am soaking it all in until they realize and slam the door shut. Like tonight, Kyle was so excited to tell me that he knows where the North Pole is. He was so proud and happy about his knowledge about something so important. "Santa lives near Madeline and Dakota. We walk there from their house at Christmas time when we go to tell him what we want for Christmas." He went on with his grand thoughts and details about how cool it is that he lives near us and that it's really not as far away as everyone says. Charlie sat in awe with those big eyes of his fixed on Kyle and hanging on every word that fell out of his mouth about the subject. I was right there with them, in their world of believing this magical place being right here in our very town. There I was in Kyle's brain-playroom. I was in and instead of copping a squat and staying a while, I opened my mouth. In my Mommyness adult-like nature, the door was slammed shut on me when I began to tell them that the North Pole really is far away, that Santa only visits our town at Christmas and meets us at the firehouse near Madeline and Dakota's house each year. I related to him and expressed my true understanding of his ideas. But it was too late and inside, I felt like I was destroying a little bit of innocent childhood thinking.

I believe that singing and laughing are qualities of our childhood that stick around if we let them. They must be the strongest of the traits because as we keep those, we tend to lose and completely forget the others. Today, Kyle and Charlie were playing together and in their own way, added their own soundtrack to those moments of my observation. It wasn't fighting or arguing over a toy, but a sort of music to my ears as they both hummed and sang out little bits and pieces of a song I had never heard before. It was the most beautiful melody I had ever heard and it made me laugh out loud. I think it was actually a few songs all mixed up together and only they knew the words. Who says we need to sing just one song that everyone would know? Kyle was even singing little tunes under his breath as we walked through the grocery store today. Not loud, not obnoxious....just a little sing-song that only he knew. It was precious to me and helped me groove through the aisles a little easier with my little helper.

I don't know, I suppose I just wish I was not as tainted with less than magical thoughts for the majority of my days. So yet again, I am setting out to learn more lessons from my children. To just jump into the snow drifts & make snow angels, to give validation to those thoughts that first come to my mind and to sing my own little tunes throughout my day. Although, I do have to admit that experiencing heart ache, loss, disappointment, pain and fear in my life has definitely given me even more opportunities to appreciate the greatest joys of living; simple moments of singing, tender night time cuddling, laughing, bear hugs, watching Modern Family (the best show on TV) and being invited back to the brain-playroom every once in a while.


(In Loving Memory of Irene Szczesiul; a woman who gave her whole heart and soul to her Husband, Children, Family & Friends. We will miss you on this earth.)

Resolutions

His small gentle pointer finger traced the outline my face then came around down to the tip of my nose and then back up around again. In the night-lighted quiet room at bedtime, I could tell he was building up to say something. He whispered words that I could just about hear. "Mommy, do you wish your Grover doll was never broken? Do you wish that little boy did not break the pull string? Did you tell him that he should not pull it so hard? Did you tell him to be gentle?" Out of the blue, these thoughts and feelings rushed out of my little-almost-six-year-old boy in this special moment before he drifted off to sleep. He looked deep into my eyes awaiting my response. I was taken aback by the thought process and the emotion that he was feeling at that moment. I whispered back to him that I really loved that Grover doll so much and even though my friend's little brother pulled that string hard enough to break his talking Grover voice, I still kept him all these years because he was so special to me. He smiled, but not completely satisfied with my answer, he continued. "But maybe next year, you could ask Santa for another Grover with a pull string. Maybe the elves could make you a new one that talks just like yours used to." "Maybe." I said. "But I still love my Grover, even though he doesn't talk anymore." He smiled again and gave me a big hug and kiss. We said goodnight and I left the room. Only moments later, I heard him snoring on the monitor.

I cannot stop thinking about new beginnings, clean slates, change and second chances lately. It's hard not to when it's a huge part of my life as it stands right now. Maybe that is what Santa represents for our children. It's a chance for new toys, new ideas, new games and new challenges. In the case of Grover, it's a possibility of a second chance for a talking Grover doll!! A new year also brings another chance for change and new ideas! How exciting. I am not sure if you can sense my tone of sarcasm or not. Trust me, it's there. Clean slate. New Beginnings. Hmmmm.... It's not so scary anymore as it is annoying to me now. It's feelings of uncertainty and feeling like I am going in the wrong direction that makes it the most annoying. As everyone around me was making their new years resolutions, I was going down my list of possibilities and realizing I had no resolutions for the new year. I was unable to commit to anything in my own mind.

Then this week, full of possibilities, crazy schedules, birthday parties, planning, dentist appointments and swim class swacked me upside the head with the obvious. I know I write and talk about my children a lot, but truly, my heart's focus is on them. No matter what the world throws at me, I am centered by the smiles of my boys. And so in the face of uncertainty in my life and through my recent feelings of unimportance and sarcasm, I bust through with my truest of true resolution; to be there for my children as they are there for me. Through the crazy this week, it was a realization of the routine moments that hit me hard. A little tiny hand always automatically reaches up for mine as we walk side by side in our hallway, at school, in the store. Random, out-of-the-blue thoughts said out loud of "I love you Mommy." The other night in the car on the way to a birthday party, Charlie told me he really liked being with me. I watched in awe of my little 4 year old as he and my husband played and rolled around the other day. What a special moment that was for them and I was lucky enough to look on. I was amazed when I actually paid attention at how much I really laughed out loud this week. With comments like "Actually Daddy, I'm not back in business." and "I can't take it anymore. I'm dying over here I am just so thirsty." and after I told Kyle I thought he was cute, he non excitedly said "Yay. My Mom thinks I'm cute." I never knew that it was actually a cartridge in a pear tree and that Indiana Jones is actually an Indian. Hug after hug and laugh after laugh, my children make me the happiest I have ever been.

So I have made up my mind and decided my new years resolution is to SUCK IT UP! Even among all of the smoke and mirrors around me, the crap, the paths unknown and that feeling of self-unimportance, I will just simply enjoy the happy routine, the laughing and little hands reaching for mine. For one day, my children will break up with me and the routine will be so different. My dream career will wait for me.

As I sit here thinking of all the tasks I need to be doing right now to prepare for Kyle's sixth birthday party tomorrow, I had to take a moment in between headaches to kick out a word or two as it is my therapy. After this week and this day and a good talk with a dear friend, I needed a session. So thank you, as always for reading, supporting and humoring me. Some day, I will be able to write for a living. For now, I will take pleasure in the joy right in front of me.

Holding On...

"Faith...is the art of holding on to things your reason once accepted, despite your changing moods." - C.S. Lewis


Holding on is so hard to do in life. I mean, we wouldn't say "hold on" if there was not a real reason why we needed to grab something with both hands and not let go. Hold on to happiness. Hold on that that rope. Hold on to the past. Hold on to the memories. Hold on to your sanity. Hold on to that hand that will keep you from falling into a pit of darkness. Hold on to who you are.

In this magical of seasons, I am holding on so tight to rituals and traditions. I am having the most fun I have ever had during this festive time of year. In the last few weeks, my children have made me realize that I am holding on to pieces of me and memories that were buried so deep inside my self. And with each new realization, I find myself holding on tighter and tighter.

In our house, this season has brought such special things; picking out a Christmas tree together, decorating it, hanging tinsel for the first time since I was little, picking out a new tree topper together and then realizing we loved our Family Angel so much we now have two tree toppers, gazing at decorated Christmas lights every night on the way home from school, shouting "Good Morning, Santa!" on the way to drop off Kyle at school each morning as we drive by a blow up lawn decoration of Santa in a hot air balloon, reading old Christmas stories, watching classic Christmas movies and singing every Christmas song ever written, baking, cooking, decorating, singing together, the excitement each morning of opening up each new door of the advent calendar, hearing my Mother's voice in the new Frosty book she gave the boys and feeling just how special it is to ME just to hear her sweet voice reading a story out loud, new cuddly Christmas pajamas, wrapping presents together, decorating gingerbread cookies, putting together a working train under our tree, doing a happy dance for no reason, answering new questions and telling the story of Jesus being born on Christmas Day and most of all, being together and not letting moments slip away....holding on as tightly as I can.

With all of these happy, exciting, magical moments of Christmas, I suddenly started to feel stressed and emotional today. It crept up on my like a quiet little ghost and then BOO! I found myself missing my Grandparents and times of my childhood more today than any other day this year or years before. I sat on the floor of Charlie's room tonight while he settled cozily into his bed. We listened to Christmas carols together as he lay with eyes closed and a sweet smile upon his little face quite content in that moment. I was as well, until 'I'll be home for Christmas' came up in the shuffle of music I put on. I was cranky today and felt the stress of not having everything in order for Christmas by now. But at this dark, quiet moment in my child's room, I felt this wave of MISS come over me. Past childhood Christmas's, Grandparents who have never met my children and traditions that had long been forgotten.

I just hope that my children feel the love and traditions of the holidays that I felt when I was a kid. I hope that someday, they will look back and fondly remember these days of magical moments in our family. I get so overwhelmed and anxious when the magic moment is anything but magic. I get frustrated with ordinary life and people that don't fit in to my grand expectation. The expectations I put on myself get pretty heavy as well.

And so I should really be working on one of my gifts right now or work or wrapping presents....But instead I sit here finally watching 'It's a Wonderful Life' and writing. So thanks to anyone who might be reading. Hold on to your special memories and even if it makes you a little sad sometimes to think that the time has gone by way to fast, you will then still at least have those special times in your heart.

Thankful for Moments of Gitty

''Tis the season I suppose, for giving thanks, for being "thankful." Gratitude, as my family likes to call it. "It's time for Gratitude" I hear announced once the dishes are cleared. We then gather around the dining room table after a full meal of turkey and all the fixings. We each take a turn verbalizing our thoughts of great thanks and appreciation for everything we have in that moment. And always a special thanks for those at that very table we sit and for those that have gone on to a higher place. It's this special ritual that my family does every year that we all either look so forward to or completely dread. I realize that not all families do such things, as it might be uncomfortable or awkward to spill that much emotion all over people who may just have big brick walls around them every day, never-mind Thanksgiving Day.

So it is in this tradition that I usually take the role as one of the "cryers" at the table. I guess it wouldn't be Thanksgivinging without me crying at least once. Crying for happiness or for sadness or out of pure frustration with life. This year I spoke of my gratitude for doors opening unexpectedly when others were slammed in my face. I thanked everyone for being my guardians, my sounding boards and my support line. It has definitely been a weird rough road for me lately and I just felt so much and suddenly needed to let it all just flow out of me whichever way it chose to. With the powerful explosion of thoughts....and tears, I did not want to take up more time and ended up not acknowledging my gratitude for the most significant part of my life.

With the dramatic comings and goings of many minutes throughout the day, it's sometimes hard to keep track of what needs to be done or said. My brain rapidly processes thoughts while I am in the shower or driving to work and I think how important and precious those thoughts are. This is, until I get out of the shower or step into my office at work and those "precious thoughts" seem to evaporate into thin air. So, document, document, document - I keep saying to myself. Keep track of it all, so I can remember to be thankful! Remembering the good, happy times that make me gitty!....that is what gets me through all of the other "stuff."

I am so thankful for the moments in the wee hours of the morning when the birds start to chirp or the highway humms from far down the hills below us and each of my boys are asleep in their cozy little beds. I am thankful for these moments because these children are quiet, they are innocent and cute. It's a brand new day, a fresh, clean slate and new aspirations are set. At this hour, these little bodies are warm and comfy in their PJ's. They are still cuddling with their favorite toy with their blankets pulled high up to their chins. As I gently wake them up, little smirks appear on their faces and sometimes a hand reaches out for me or full blown arms for a big bear hug; all still with eyes shut tight and squeaky little noises being made with their throats.

I am thankful for the precious words that melt my heart on a daily basis. "I just love you so much, Mommy." "Mommy, can you please play with me?" "When I grow up, I want to be as soft and cozy as you and Daddy." "Will you stay with me forever, Mommy and never leave?... except on boys night?"

I am thankful for good moods and excitement. When getting the mail seems to be as exciting as an amusement park, when a plan to have movie night makes them shout right out loud "YAY! Movie Night!!!" or when they are so excited to show me a toy they built out of Legos that they will literally jump up and down as I look at the intricate detail. These moments of pure elation, I am so grateful for.

I am thankful for smiles. Simple smiles from my boys direct to me; from across the room, at the dinner table, when I pick them up after school and they run to me with so many teeth showing I can count the lot of them....

I am thankful that they want to share with me; their meal, their crayons, their toys or stories of the day's happiest moments.

In the dark quiet of this bedtime moment, I sit finishing up this necessary account of thankfulness and I hear the sweet serenade of soft yawns and little snores. (with an occasional cough) But as I sit here, I am not thinking about the traumatic morning routine and drop off we had this morning or the horrendous bedtime routine tonight. It was a rough day with not a lot of smiles from one of my boys, not too much sharing or excitement. But I think more in this moment about how blessed I am to have two such genuinely well behaved children who get excited and gitty about the little events in life; bath-time, underwear on their head and our Elf on a Shelf. Being gitty is definitely contagious and though I may not get the same rush of fever over getting the mail each day, I am gitty about being loved by such a wonderful family....even when it is "just boys night."

Connections

It would be amazing to me if someone had gone through life without making any real soulful connections. I would have to ask myself; Were they not paying enough attention? Were they not ever in need of such a link to another individual? I would need to investigate further. I have heard people say "...I have enough friends." Enough? Really? What if you think you have satisfied all of the hunger inside of your heart and you end up missing out on something really profound? That is what life is about; you take a left instead of a right and boom! you meet someone you wouldn't have met by going the other way.
(a few of my favorite movies - just the trailers - about how connections, unexpected situations and people you meet by chance are so cool! Prelude to a Kiss, Serendipity, Forces of Nature, Sleepless in Seattle)

My husband and I went away to New York City this past weekend. It was a well-deserved and much-needed couple of days just for us. On the train coming home, we sat next to an older woman that I felt a strange sort of kinship with. Her appearance and mannerisms were extremely familiar to me and for a brief minute I thought I could be related to her. I listened as she told her story about a bad train experience she had in Italy. I felt warm with a sense of home in my heart as she spoke. Maybe subconsciously I needed that feeling right then. Or maybe it was her that actually needed something from us as she was traveling alone. I really believe these brief but poignant experiences are so important in life and should not be ignored.

I feel so blessed to have the connections I have gained in my life. One of the most important is my sweet husband. We both had the opportunity to move out of state right before we met. Without real reasons as to why, we both chose to stick around long enough for that first simple handshake. We became friends and ended up connecting in a way that made us feel like we had known each other all our lives. Maybe at some level we had. I am certainly glad other forces were on our side and brought us together. We have made such a beautiful life together.

My boys are a connection that I was never certain I would ever have. I mean, of course I dreamed about the wedding, the husband, the white picket fence....but the kids....they were always headless, personality-less. I could not even connect with the thought, never-mind dream about the actual little beings that would one day be the ultimate loves of my life. The connection I feel to them is the deepest, most soulful feeling in the world. When we picked them up at my Mother's tonight, I put out my arms and they ran to me. I felt such a sense of completeness that I wish I could explain in words. As a mother, my biggest fear in life is that time will zoom by and I will forget these moments of connection with my boys. They are able to sense when I am sad, when I am happy and when I am mad. They cuddle with me, sing to me and make me laugh all the time. I know when they are disappointed, frustrated or hurt and the best part is that I can usually help them through it. What will I do when this feeling of kinship is not so strong or reliable?

"Charlie's" birthday is coming up soon. In the quiet moments of just him and I driving home from my Mom's tonight, he told me he would like to have a Christmas-How-to-Train-Your-Dragon birthday party this year. He told me that cupcakes would be the best part of his birthday and would like to go to the store with me to pick out some Christmas decorations. He was planning it all out and with each thought, he got more and more excited. We were connected in this simple little moment in time and I will always cherish it.

I was tucking "Kyle" into bed tonight after we read a couple of books all together. He was so lethargic and yawned just about twenty times in a row. I wrapped him up in his blankets and we chanted together as we always do; "snug as a bug in a rug." I whispered in his ear "I am glad you had so much fun with Nana and Pepa this weekend." He closed his eyes and I thought he was just about drifting off to sleep, but then whispered back to me. "I did have fun. I missed you so much though." He said it with a little smile and a few seconds later he was snoring. Come on! No wonder I could not imagine real kids in my future. With moments like these, I do not think I could even dream of a more perfect moment or connection with my children.

I am reading a book right now by Katrina Kenison 'The Gift of an Ordinary Day'. I have never met this woman, but I feel the strongest connection to her. She is truly the 'future me.' I should have said I am trying to read her book right now. I cannot get through the pages without drenching them with my tears. (it was a bit embarrassing on the train today). I connect with her on many levels, but two of the most important are as a writer and a Mother who cherishes every single moment with her two boys. Her guys are older now and she is dealing with the realizations of how fast time has gone by for her. She treasures moments with her boys then and now. A part of me thinks I may not be able to continue to read this book right now as it brings some of my greatest fears to life. I will keep writing and documenting, but time still ticks by. I don't want to forget. I don't want to miss. I pray every day that I am given the strength to live in each moment and cherish every simple conversation without regret.

As I progress on my own writing journey as a new Hartford Parenting Examiner, a Freelance Writer for a local media corporation, blogging, writing my own book and starting up a website, I hope you all will continue to follow me and support me. I value our connection.

The Heart of the Matter

As I sit alone in this quiet little spec of time with my thoughts; I am at peace with myself. I wonder how I even got to this place. Many outside sources and inside voices contributed to choices I have made. And I think I realize now that when I actually pay attention to signs and signals, I can find the core of a problem, the answer to a question, the solution to a dilemma. The core of any situation is really what is most important. An apple has a core. The earth has a core. We, as humans have a core. As the earth spins on it's axis, as the tides ebb and flow, we strive for balance. It's our core being, our soul that keeps us balanced. But sometimes, we lose track of what our core is telling us and we can spin out of control.

My youngest son was having a hard time going to bed at night. Each night, it would be a major battle to get him into bed and then to get him to stay there. We would start off gentle and kind and end up frustrated, tired and yelling. One night, he whispered in my ear "I don't like my room, Mommy." I was not really sure at the time as to whether it was truth or fiction as a tactic to stall and get me to stay with him or invite him into our room. The mission began the next day when I decided that for his birthday, we would give him a new room. He is now excited about taking EVERYTHING out of his bedroom and painting the walls "blue and green." We are picking out curtains together and he even picked out a Patriots throw rug. He has been sleeping in our spare room for now. To my surprise, he is perfectly content in this storage-like room with boxes, an old TV that does not work and a queen sized bed next to his small toddler bed that he sleeps in. He does not wish to switch rooms and realizes this is just a transition room. This process was so rejuvenating and a good lesson for me. If you are unhappy, find out why and do something about it.

My oldest son gets frustrated very easily. He gets mad at himself, mad at his brother and definitely mad at me. He is Irish and Italian, so we certainly did not help him out in the temper department. However, it seemed like there was something else going on. As the persistent and curious person I am, I was determined to look into this matter further. I would watch him and analyze these mini-tantrums. What I was not watching was myself and my own reaction to his frustration. I realized after quite a few episodes that I was probably reacting worse to his initial reaction. His frustration was frustrating to me. I felt myself jumping out of my skin sometimes and saying "Come over here and I will fix it FOR you!" or I would state his name sternly if he dropped food or a drink on the floor. His reaction always worsened after my involvement. I sat down next to him the other night after an incident and calmly asked him what frustrated him most about the situation. He looked at me with a plump lower lip, furrowed brow and a tear slowly sliding down his face and said "when you said my name." I realized that I was becoming part of this problem and frustration sure is catchy! So after I got out the dust pan and swept up all the pieces of my broken heart, I decided I did not want be part of his sadness and frustration anymore. We decided we are going to work together on improving our reactions to life's frustrating events.

Getting to heart of the matter of what really makes us happy or sad is so important. Staying true to our core beliefs can be difficult sometimes, but when we do, it is rewarding. Getting to the core of any problem can be hard work but it has a pay off. And as my son said just the other day, "Biting into the core of an apple is yucky, just so you know."

Struggling for Patience

Adopt the pace of nature....Her secret is patience.
- Ralph Waldo Emerson









I often wonder what it must be like to be calm and accepting. As a busy Mom, I run from one thing to another; always in a rush, always frustrated with myself. I fluster over the lack of time, getting stuck in traffic, unavoidable small disasters like spilled milk or chalk dust.

I am amazed every single day with my children's ability to sit still or listen during crazy times. I realize that I cannot keep highlighting the times when they are running down the hall in their underwear pretending they are being chased by a Star Wars droid. I yell, I count, I threaten time-outs with not a lot of results. As I sit here now, I think about their mood, the time of day or the lack of my own attention to them during those moments.

Then there are the moments like recently; they each had their days of catching a virus and I had to bring them to the Doctor. Each had to sit in the cold patient room in his skivvies, waiting for the Doctor to come in to examine his sickly little body. They each sat, they listened, they were calm and cute. And on that day, seemed to have adopted the pace of nature. I admired my youngest son for being so brave and so willing to do whatever it took to get better. I envied the humor my oldest son still found in simple things like putting the puke pail on his head while he waited. These are the times to highlight. These are the times for me to rejoice in their ability to learn what patience is.

My children struggle with their own patience issues. I am positive my husband and I are the perfect role models for how to lose your patience. The most frustrating thing is when that flat Lego piece will not come off of that other thin small Lego piece! I hear screams, grunts and whines and finally little feet running to me for assistance. "I can't get this off, Mommy!!!" Falling in the driveway and skinning a knee really gets them mad. Carrying two backpacks, a lunch box and a coat can be a huge undertaking. And of course, there is always that one difficult jump that Luke has to make in the Star Wars Wii game that they just can't get right. As I said, I am not exactly the most patient person demonstrating my calming ability to take things in stride.

When I was in my twenties, I took up golf for a short while. I thought it would be a good social sport I could play that was quiet and calm. I liked watching it on TV, it was soothing to listen to and calming to watch. I knew my Grandfather would be proud of me, my boyfriend and I would have another thing to do together and I would develop another interest. I still believe it's good to find new interests.

Anyway, my Grandfather and I spent some time in his back yard with an old bicycle tire inner tube and a club they call a chipper. He would chuck the tube across the yard and I had to chip the ball into the circle. I loved the activity and especially the time with my Grandfather. I still think about it now and can see the look of pride on his face. The idea of golfing was all looking good from my point of view. Until....I actually stepped onto a golf course to play.

You see, on a golf course, the inner tube is not so close or even so big. You have to actually hit the ball towards this teeny tiny hole that you cannot really see. My aim was not as good as chipping the ball into a tire size hole a couple of feet away. My strength to even get the ball close to the hole was lacking as well. I was frustrated, annoyed and tired. I kept hearing from others around me, "You have to have patience." That is correct, you do. News flash, I was fresh out.

I would like to say it was a life changing event that gave me more strength to become a much more patient individual. I would like to say that. Instead, I just now know I am not a golfer and that my patience is lacking.

As I struggle now to find that new and exciting job opportunity that will make me feel whole again, I think about golf and how I gave up because of my lack of patience. I have more at stake now but I am just as frustrated. That little hole seems so far away and so unattainable. I just cannot get my aim straight, the wind is blowing hard and I'm tired.

Virtue is a trait that is defined as moral excellence. Is patience really morally excellent? I mean, do we really have to put that much pressure on ourselves to be morally excellent?

So in the meantime, I will put the puke pail on my head, smile and do whatever I need to do make this better. Moral excellence might be too high of a standard for me right now or ever, for that matter. But I am willing to try for myself and my family and to teach my children the lesson of patience; that even though the inner tube is really small and far away, you can reach it... eventually.

Developing skills is a skill!

"Wisdom is knowing what to do next, skill is knowing how to do it and virtue is doing it." - David Starr Jordan

From the very day we are conceived, we begin growing. In the beginning, there are subtle changes that occur and then suddenly there are fingers and toes and other recognizable body parts. Oh! It's a baby in there! When we are born, we don't stop growing and developing; we grow taller, we learn to communicate and eat solid foods. But there is more than just growing and going along with the main stream of childhood development. There are things we call skills; talents each one of us learn or develop, grow into or grow to love. The challenge is realizing we have abilities and finding that special skill or skills inside of us.

Being a mother of two young boys, I witness daily growth, a lot of skill building and trying out new things for the first time. It is amazing what they learn, comprehend and actually hold onto in their own little skill bank. I admire that innocent talent so much.

I think, as adults, we sometimes lose that motivation for, or the understanding of, mastering a skill. We think we are too old, it's too dangerous, it's too complicated. Our life experiences of past skill building can stop us in our tracks. However, sometimes we surge forward after one ridiculous attempt after another just to say to others or even ourselves that we are a master at something. Even in the simplest of tasks, we can feel defeated and continue to try and improve upon the mistakes we have made in order to succeed just a little. We lose the grasp on the whole concept of how to actually become good at something. The other night we were reading a book before bedtime. My older son stopped me mid-story and said "I learned something in Kindergarten today. All you have to do is try and as long as you do your best, it's ok." Even now, I am not quite sure where that came from and why he said it right then. But a little piece of me thinks he was picking up on my own skill insecurities and thought he'd pass along a bit of this new found wisdom.

In my current professional situation, I am soul searching quite a bit; wondering if there are any real skills that I can offer to an organization. There are many jobs I would love to do, but am unfortunately an amateur at and therefore could not perform in a professional capacity. The skills I do have may not be able to offer me what I want at this point in my life. So I continue to research, soul search, try and do my best.

In my home life, there are also many jobs that I am still working on perfecting. For instance, I have yet to master the art of brushing my teeth while ironing. That is a skill set that definitely still needs some practice. Who ever invented the TV tray was a genius. However, they must have put that invention on the back burner for improvements, as I still have not yet mastered the skill of folding it without pinching my finger and somehow slamming it shut. I am thankful these are not important must-have career skills.

My children surprise me every day with their wonderment, their courage, ideas and their questions. All of the above are such positive strides towards perfecting their own skills. For them, anything can become a boat or a ship; the DVR, a cardboard box or our coffee table with a make shift bridge. My older son creates magnificent space ships out of the smallest Lego pieces. My younger son is so thoughtful. He comes out with questions like "If birds like breadcrumbs and chip crumbs, how come they don't like hot dogs?" and "If lightning McQueen is not a girl, why do they call him McQUEEN?" About two years ago, my older son started pushing our kisses in so they wouldn't fall off. My younger son has a memory like an elephant; he remembers discussions we had weeks ago, places we went, people we have seen and can recite it all back even if we do not wish to hear it all right then. They love playing sports like golf and soccer and using their imaginations with Legos, Star Wars figures and playdough. They are full of life and so much energy. And just when I think they are getting old enough for me to be able to teach them some real life lessons, it seems as though they are teaching me once again. I was having a difficult time trying to tie a balloon the other day and my son looked up at me with his big innocent eyes and said "You just have to practice, Mommy."

A Little Encouragement

The smell of apple pie baking in the oven. Just saying that gives me such a warm and nostalgic feeling inside. It reminds me of warm and happy times with my family, of being home and happy. There are smells, thoughts, songs, feelings and dreams that bring me back to specific times in my life. Whether these were good times or bad, I am immediately transported back just by a simple second of time crossing my path again.

I wonder what will bring me back to this time of my life someday in my future. I wonder; will it be a favorite song I play a lot right now? Will it be the taste of a mudslide martini? Will it be the Cantina song from Star Wars? Will it be the chilly rain misting on the tip of my nose in the crisp fall air? I wonder.

The future holds many positive times for me, I am sure. Many things can catapult me into the next phase of my life. In life, we go from one step of life to another in an instant and sometimes without us even knowing it is happening. Transitions and times of change can be so hard. I am currently going through a time of change and uncertainty in my life right now. I thought I would have more control over this type of change and I found myself completely opposite of that; out of control. I find myself leaning on what I know, what is familiar to me, what makes me feel good. I look for extra cuddles from my boys, winks and smiles from my husband, old songs, family traditions and good friends and family. These are what can get me through this weird time. I am needy. I am vulnerable. I am weak. I feel like I am going through a recovery period and going through the motions of being ecstatic, elated, shock, denial, bitterness, anger then finally acceptance and motivation and energy to surge forward. A good friend of mine really laid it on the line for me last week and helped me up off the floor; figuratively speaking. I was at my lowest point and she was there to be tough, loving and supportive. I was able to get up and stand up for myself. It was amazing what that did for me. I immediately felt better about myself and my situation. And though I am still stressed and unsure about my future, I feel more confident in myself and motivated to go after a dream or two.

I am dedicated to my children and teaching them about love, eating healthy, staying safe and now just how important it is to be confident in themselves. It's the memories that we make for ourselves as we go along our merry way that make us who we are. I feel so lucky to have to two young boys that I can help shape into polite and strong gentlemen. I feel so lucky to have two young boys that can help me get through my own tough times. I know there will be so many little things that will bring me back to this time in my life. Hearing the sound of their laugh, the smell of their fresh clean hair, the warmth of their hug and yes, probably the cantina song. But I know, I will remember this specific time in my life as a catalyst of change. I will know how important this was for all of us; me, my family and my friends. I am sure I will find my way and start to feel like a good Mom, wife and friend again. With a little encouragement, confidence or a genie in a bottle, I am sure it will all work out.

Thank you all for being so patient with me and supporting me. Thank you, truly. Now I am off to have a slice of my own fresh apple crumble/pie. :)

The Joy of Parenthood

I ask you to take this short journey with me this evening to the crazy side of life. If for no other reason, I am writing tonight to help myself through a chaotic chapter in my little short story. Maybe the future me will read this one day and wish I was back to this exact moment in time. Maybe the future me will relish in the memories and cherish them in the true belief that it was all good rather than crazy, cute rather than terror and maybe I'll just giggle. For now, take a walk with me to the dark side.

I know how fast time flies by and I don't want to miss these days later on because I am so stressed out. But when my Father hands me a book about overly sensitive children, I have to wonder..."Is it me? Is it what they are exposed to? Is it in their genes?" Naaaah, my children are not overly sensitive at all. Just because Charlie freaked out in the middle of a long walk because his Toy Story cowboy boots got wet and would not walk another step until someone wiped them dry. Just because Kyle had a panic attack this morning because I set out a shirt that actually had buttons on it! I don't know what I was thinking! I mean, we are talking BUTTONS! Those things are lethal! The way they just look at you like little beatty eyes! It's creepy just knowing they are there! I was actually sewing my son's shirt together this morning to overlap the buttons so he couldn't see them. Maybe that is me going too far. But he wore the shirt! Overly sensitive? Not a chance. (I'm reading the book)

I have a hard time distinguishing between fighting a losing battle and fighting a battle worth winning no matter what. I really hate the phrase "pick your battles." That truly means something different to everyone. "You are not excused from the table until everyone is finished eating." "You are not excused from the table until YOU are finished eating." These are rules either way, but I have been told many different versions by friends, Doctors and family members. "Don't fight with them about food, it's not worth it. They won't starve." "Let them leave the table, then you will get to have an adult conversation and they can go play." "Setting rules and boundaries are important. Don't give in or you are being inconsistent and they will confuse the message."

Speaking of mixed messages, my children love to play me like a fine tuned instrument. On a walk the other day, Charlie kept stepping in my path with his hands up for me to hold him. He cried and fell to the ground a few times. I figured "Pick your battles. Just hold him for a little while. He's little, it's a long walk." I would alternate. Hold, walk. Hold, walk. Kyle complained of pure and utter thirst. You would think he wouldn't be so thirsty with the amount of WHINE he was spilling out! Over and over, we heard about the thirsty child. We got to the beach and played for a bit. I ran back to get the car to avoid the horrific-ness of the long walk back. Charlie walks by the car and states very confidently "I don't want to ride in the car. I'm walking." I chuckled and plopped him into his car seat. I raced back to the house in order to get my dehydrated other son a drink. As I handed him a cup of water, he looked up at me with his big blue eyes like I had something smeared all over my face, paused and said "What? I'm not thirsty." and ran off to play.

I walk around most days a zombie due to being up most nights with Charlie as he wakes up at least four to five times throughout the night complaining of different ailments; a bad dream, the dark, his sock is crooked, he has to pee, he can't find Ariel, he thought I called him (& who knows maybe I did). It takes a while for him to settle back down sometimes. And me, well...it takes me a good half hour each time to fall back to sleep. By the time I do, you know who is back at my bed side purposely making a slight little hiccup of a noise so I know he is there. I squint open my eyes to see his little smirk and crinkled face like "I know I'm not supposed to be up, but here I am again....staring at you....."

Don't get me wrong, I do cherish and love my boys more than life itself. I would walk over hot coals for them in an instant! I just wish I knew how to handle the chaos a little better is all. I wish I knew how to be a better Mom. I guess I just keep playing with them, disciplining the only way I know how and plugging along with each day that goes by and treasuring those moments when my children are singing "Don't you wish your girlfriend was hot like me" and "I got a feeling...tonight's gonna be a good night" at the top of their lungs in the middle of a crowded Stew Leonard's. I stare down the on-lookers, smile and start singing along with my boys. It's those moments I put in my pocket and pull out when I need to smile. The moments when I just don't think I can take anymore of the craziness and misbehaving, out pops a warm, heart-felt "I love you Mommy" from Charlie followed by a big hug and kiss. Kyle then tells me "Mommy, I just love you so much. I am going to love you forever, even when I'm old." Those moments..... stay in my heart.

Thanks for keeping me company tonight in this little path of thoughts I took. Maybe it wasn't so dark after all and it did what I had hoped it would. It made me stop for a few minutes and see the JOY of parenthood...no matter what.

A New Religious Journey in the Making

This past Wednesday marked the beginning of the Lenten season; a time when Christians reflect on their sins and come to terms with the fact that they are mortal and must do penance for sins. It's a time to reflect and become a "better person". At least, this is my own interpretation. I am in a place right now where I thought it was time to challenge my own energy, spirit and religion and since we haven't been to church on a regular basis in five years, it was also time to make more of a religious commitment to my children.

There are many events in my life that I wish I could go back in time to as the person I am today. Moments that I would love to look my past self in the eye and shout "Are you freakin kidding me?" or just take a different road. It's definitely my experiences that make me *ME.* My religious journey has definitely given me different feelings throughout different times in my life.

I try to instill the knowledge of God in my children and the thankfulness we should have to him for watching over us, taking care of our family and for giving us so much in our life. But church and lessons beyond home prayer has not been present in our lives.

So here I am, LENT 2010. I had an idea to make my Lenten sacrifice more of a commitment instead. A commitment not to yell at my kids as much and to expose them more to what God is all about and why we pray.

This may sound awful, but I actually bowed out of answering my son during Christmas this past year when he asked who the baby was in the nativity playset at my Mother's house. In that moment, I told my Mother that I was terrible at explaining all of it. She tried to take over and did a great job at teaching, but if you don't follow through on things, children tend to forget. Guess who didn't follow through? I really knew I was in trouble when I floated the idea of going to church to my five year old; Kyle and he replied with "Church? Is that where dolphins live?" Yikes. I kept talking about it the weeks to follow and explaining that it was God's house and people go there to pray together every week.

We decided we would go to church this past Saturday; the first mass of the Lenten season. In the morning, I told Kyle that we were going to church that night. He responded with "What kind of dinner are we going to have there?" Again, I reinforced the praying together; saying some of the prayers we know, some people only praying in their head quietly and the priest and other people telling stories from the bible on the alter. I talked about good listening and behaving...yadda, yadda, yadda. He checked out of that conversation pretty quick.

I had my own doubts even before entering "God's house" that night. I kept telling myself, "Open mind. New beginnings. Learning. Teaching. Humble. Acknowledging my own shortcomings." I was being positive, yet "reflecting that I need to be a better person." The boys didn't know what to make of it when we walked in and saw all of the people sitting in rows facing the alter. I think they thought we were going to see a movie. We sat down in an inconspicuous spot in the back. The boys were immediately taken with the thin paged missalett. They both paged through the books like they were actually reading the words. Suddenly, we heard the organ start to play. It was pretty loud and Kyle was not a big fan of the organ "noise" and the singing. He covered his ears. Instead of crawling under the pew right then, I chose to sternly tell him to take his hands down off of his ears immediately. He fought me a bit and then gave in. He was then taken with the kneelers; which I think every kid is at that age. He wanted it up, he wanted it down, he wanted to stand on it, he wanted to kneel on it and unfortunately, he liked dangling his legs and kicking it while he read his missalett. Charlie was pretty content sitting on B's lap reading books that I brought along with us.

Some things were different for us as well during the mass. They changed the order of some of the "routines", they added in some extra words during prayers and responses, there was even a movie clip that played during the mass. We were puzzled when the lights dimmed and we heard a beating heart rumbling throughout the church. A screen came down and we watched a video about lent. The priest then talked about how some people just go to church every week, they donate money and find something to give up during lent. He told the group that this was not good enough, he explained that people need to change and want to be better. At first, I was sort of taken aback by the fact that all of the items mentioned above were not good enough. But as he went on to explain, I really started to get what he meant.

We stood up, we sat down, we knelt, we bowed our heads and the whole church chanted prayers out loud together. I kept looking at my kid's faces and seeing amazement, confusion and disapproval in some of these catholic church rituals. Overall, I thought they were really well behaved. I was more worried about B and I. Moments startled me like when I started to say a prayer with a different response than everyone else in the church or when I grabbed the coat tail of the woman next to me and she quickly jerked it back toward her or when I held out my hand to say Peace to the woman sitting behind me and she just nodded and gave me a stern look not acknowledging my extended hand.

Later, as I stood here reciting the Apostle's Creed as if no time had passed between church visits, I thought about that past me; the one with no experience or so I thought. I remember standing in church filled with feelings of disbelief, doubt, grief, happiness, thoughtfulness and thoughtlessness. I remember questioning God, believing in God and wondering what I was going to eat for dinner. This night, as I stood before God and his family and surrounded by a much older generation, I somehow felt love and a feeling a accomplishment. If I could go back to that scared or scatterbrained person from the past, I would tell her "Someday, even if you do not go to church all the time, you will be still be filled with God." And even though we haven't been to church on a regular basis, this one visit made me realize that God is inside of me and a part of me and I have given that to my children. This will be my Lenten extension.

As they started music for communion, we honored my Grandparents tradition and quickly donned our coats preparing for our departure after communion. Again, I couldn't help but feel the disapproving stares from the primarily white and gray haired church goers around us. I also realized that it is hard to pray quietly when you dart out the door with children.

We grabbed an idea card for this week's Lenten assignment before we left and suddenly Kyle stopped and asked "Wait, was that it? That was church? It's over already?" I was surprised and happy at the same time. "So far, so good." I thought. We talked in the car about what we did in church and why. I hope this will also help me to improve my teaching skills, not to mention improve on my "church etiquette." All in all, I guess this will make ME a "better person" or at least give my children more of their own religious journey. We'll see.

Staying a Kid at Heart

When I was little, I always thought that nothing could beat being a kid. I loved playing with dolls, matchbox cars and my dog. I loved swimming, rollerskating, playing "kicker", riding my bike and going to the beach. Don't get me wrong, I had my bad times; fighting with my older sister, listening to my parents argue or moments of complete terror like the first day of school. But through all the bad stuff, I still loved being a kid. There was something so magical and fun about every day. I remember one of my teachers telling me one day "Never grow up, Patti. It's too much work."

And so I learned as I traveled along that growing-up-path just how much work it was. I had to get good grades, get in to college, get a job, drive a car, know my way around, make sure I was safe, not be too curious (but curious enough), I had my heart broken more times than I care to admit and I broke hearts of others. I made some mistakes, lost loved ones to a higher power than me, powered through hangovers, food poisoning, wisdom teeth, gum surgery and a miscarriage. What I really ended up learning was not that growing up is too much work, but that with each gut-wrenching moment of badness, something beautiful inside me grew even stronger. I became healthier, more confident, knowledgeable, experienced, stronger and wiser. So, yes a pessimist might say I grew paranoid and more scared of life. But I just call it being cautious.

I never knew. I never ever knew that there was something even better than being a kid; being a Mom. Seeing the look on my child's face when I found the exact Buzz blanket he wanted, that was priceless. When I saw him smile bigger than I thought his little cheeks could go and hug his new wii game, I actually got a bit emotional. Or when my youngest opened up the Seven Dwarves Cottage at his Grandparent's house on Christmas Day and nearly fell onto the floor with shock and disbelief that such a wonderful thing could actually be HIS. I giggled when I saw his little legs in the air as he lay on his tummy playing with the house for most of the next day.

Some moments make time stand still in my mind. I stand before my children simply as an observer and watch as little crumbs of life amaze and wow them. They see or feel something and they just say it or try to explain it outloud.

"Daddy, I really like your smile." Kyle said one day as we were about to sit down for dinner.

Phone conversations from Kyle in Connecticut while I was in Florida "Mommy, I am going to love you forever. I miss you so much."

Some of their senses are heightened too, like colors or smells; good ones AND bad ones: "What the heck is that SMELL?!?"

Their brains are always at work and they come up with some really cool ideas sometimes. One day, they planned a spur of the moment picnic in the middle of our living room instead of sitting at the table.

Though sometimes when they are just beat from a day of school and they don't want to practice their letters and words with me at home, I hear "Mommy, Let's have a snack and watch a movie!"

What they hear seems to be selective when I stand directly in front of them and tell them to put their coat on, it is as if I am yelling it from the next yard. I wonder if the hearing sense is something I should bring to a medical professional's attention. Then I realize just how selective it is when I am having a quiet conversation with a friend and mention Charlie's name and his favorite Jesse doll. Charlie quickly appeared from around the corner and asked "Me Mommy? Are you talking about ME? Are you talking about MY Jesse doll?"

Sometimes I wish I could be this honest and true with my feelings. They feel so much and I hope I can continue to reinforce their trueness. They are really the wise ones. Maybe they can teach me a few things. One day I will come into work and say to my boss: "I don't want to work today. Why don't we have a snack and watch a movie instead?" Or if I hear my name from outside of a closed door, just pop in and say "ME? Are you talking about ME?" Hmmmm....maybe not. But the thought of it, keeps me smiling and keeps me in tune with my own kids so I am still able to make days magical and fun, even though I went and grew up anyway.

Music makes my world sing

Music seriously hits a chord with me. It's how I live my days. Whether I have a tune or an annoying little commercial jingle in my head, it is how I start each day. The music, the rhythm, the lyrics...they all play a part in how my mood is or how it turns out to be. I also have to feel motivated enough when I am feeling down to WANT to feel "up" enough to turn on that "feel-good" music to snap me out of it and get me back to feeling ME.

In life, there seem to be different musical themes and soundtracks. For instance, Christmas would not be right without the sweet sounding carols that are played throughout the season. Summertime is another fun, musical time of year. The latest tunes can be heard from houses, beaches, parties and from cars going by.

We all have our own soundtrack. Songs that bring us back to our past in just an instant. It has to be one of the neatest phenomenons when we feel that we are transported back in time as soon as a radio station plays a song. I wonder what songs might bring my children back to this place in time RIGHT NOW. I wonder what songs will do the same for me? Some time in the future, I might be at the grocery store and a song will come on and I will then be transported back to sitting in my son's room while he is napping and I am writing my blog. I will be in this place right at this very moment even if for just four minutes. How magical that is.

Music helps me make dinner, dance with my children and decorate for Christmas. Music makes me feel better, sing better and write better. It makes me feel for other people, share and understand another point of view and focus on feelings. Music can break my heart, make me cry and tell a story better. Sometimes, it's another writers words that helps me to explain what I am feeling better than mine can and the musical tones behind the words just drives the point home.

I love sharing music with my kids. I give them a palate full of different music to listen to. From Frank Sinatra to Dave Matthews to Jack Johnson to Justin Timberlake and everything in between. I shouldn't be surprised when I hear Kyle singing out loud while he is playing or humming the tune to General Hospital while he is taking his shoes off. I shouldn't be surprised when I hear Charlie singing at the top of his lungs "Video Killed the Radio Star" while he is having Buzz Light Year and Woody battle it out with Emperor Zurg. I shouldn't be surprised. But I am. It surprises me, makes me laugh and gives me such a warm feeling inside. I'd like to think they are picking up good habits from me and not just those bad moments I have when I shout out a word because I stubbed my toe.

Nighttime consist of stories read and songs sung by me or my husband. And Charlie melts my heart when he serenades me with the Sound of Music soundtrack that he knows word for word. The cuteness is just too much to comprehend when he is singing with such passion and emotion "...when the DOG BITES, when the BEE STINGS...when I'm feeling sad, I simply remember my favorite things and then I don't feel soooo bad."

I have been told this is the time that children learn at their best. They can pick up words, songs, even another language because their brains are like sponges right now. So I teach them manners, sign language, numbers and letters and yes, MUSIC. I am in no way a musician, nor do I know how to read musical notes and cannot sing in a kind of voice anyone would want to hear on the radio. But I am an avid listener of what I would consider a plethora of good music. Someday, I would like to learn how to play piano. Who knows, maybe one of my boys will teach ME.

So sometimes you might find me drifting off to another time and space because of a random melody that found it's way into a current playlist.... but for now, I live in this moment with my children and my husband listening, dancing, playing and singing to our own soundtrack.

The mystery of the twinkle….solved.

Have you ever heard that expression; "You can see the twinkle in her eyes." What exactly IS a twinkle? What do people actually see? Is it water? A stray eyelash? That sleepy stuff that builds up? Is it really only salty tears brought on by a chemical reaction in our bodies? I suppose some Scientists and Doctors would come up with a sort of factual based reasoning. But I think it's more than that.

I just recently hosted my first Thanksgiving at my house. My Mother and I had talked about having a special separate Thanksgiving this year since we haven't really spent Thanksgivings together since I was young. I was excited and a bit anxious at the same time.

My Mother and I picked out the date and planned the menu together. I started feeling the excitement of the holiday already. It was fun for me right from the first moment of planning. Through text messages, emails and phone calls, we communicated while in the grocery store, when new ideas and thoughts crossed our minds and just to check in. I felt the bond with my Mother growing stronger. Through new technology and old traditions, I felt like we bridged across generations and time.

My Mother came over early that morning of our special Thanksgiving Day. The boys were already showered and dressed in fall colors of orange and brown and looked very handsome with their new haircuts. I, however, had not even showered yet, but it didn't matter. The excitement was in the air. My hair was pulled back and sleeves were rolled up. I was ready to rumble with that turkey, or so I thought.

My Mom and I chatted for a bit about life and current events in our lives. The boys were excited to have Nana at our house. She played with them for a little while, while I cleaned up the kitchen; picking up crumbs, old mail and other every day items from the week.

Mom kept saying "We need to get this turkey set." I knew I was ready. We we finally settled on the time that we would be ready to eat and we put a list together. My organized Mother put times, ingredients and other essential details next to each item on the list. We had a plan. We worked on different tasks throughout the morning like making the string bean casserole, creamed onions, butternut squash soup and peeling sweet potatoes. We had good talks, laughed a lot, we listened to old Christmas music she used to play when I was a little girl, we played with the boys, read books and had lunch.

It was now nap time for the boys and almost turkey time. We got the boys down to sleep and my Mom looked at me with a big grin. "You ready?" She asked. "I think so." I said nervously. We referred to the list and knew we only had a short time to get the turkey in the oven by our scheduled time of 2:00pm.

She had me do everything at the beginning and kept telling me. "This is your turkey today. You're going to do it." I took a deep breath and started cutting into the plastic netting and wrapping around the turkey. We cleaned the sink and plopped the bird in. I felt myself starting to loose the oomph that I once had before I realized I really had to stick my hand inside this BIRD. I had to separate myself from the fact that this soon-to-be main meal was once a living thing with parts and pieces that I would recognize more easily if it were alive. I started having conversations with myself about how bizarre this tradition really was. And who were the people that had the jobs of providing all of these birds to the stores in this fashion? I finally calmed myself down by reminding myself that Norman Rockwell's family did it and it's all part of the holiday season. I suddenly heard the Lion King Soundtrack in my head "It's the Ciiiiirrrrrcle of Liiiiiiiife....." I was jolted out of this private discussion inside my head by my Mother saying "You're supposed to be doing this...C'mon, shove that stuffing inside the cavity." "Awwww, Mom!" I shouted. "Do you have to use words like that? Cavity?" We laughed and she took over the dirty work, acknowledging that she did not realize how squeamish I was.

We got all the stuffing in and she rubbed the turkey with the remainder of stuffing on her hands. "This will help it to get golden brown at the end." She said. She had me do the honors of putting the turkey in. We closed the door to the oven and looked at the clock; exactly 2:00pm.

We finished up the other side dishes and I had to run to the grocery store to get more butter and rolls. While I was gone, Charlie woke up from his nap and played with my Mother; working on puzzles, reading more books, they enjoyed each other. I returned home and soon Kyle woke up and he helped out with the puzzles too. And then there it was...as all of this hustle and bustle went on, I didn't even remember that eventually there would be rewards. The glorious aroma of turkey permeated through my house. It really hit me when Charlie asked me what that smell was. "It smells so good in here, Mommy." My heart melted and I knew a tradition had been formed.

The boys were jumping around in delight, the final preparations were in full force and one by one the other members of the family came in from work. That holiday feeling was felt by all with cheers as each person came in and wine was poured. "What can I do to help?" was shouted in excitement by a few different voices. We couldn't decide who was best to slice the turkey and whether I had a big enough platter to put it on. Before we knew it, the Thanksgiving dinner was spread out in buffet style across my counter and everyone was picking out their favorites and loading up their dishes.

I looked around the room at my family members as a few different conversations went on simultaneously. The magic unfolded around me at every turn. Kyle and Charlie were so elated to have everyone over and even though they barely ate anything on their plate, they made up their own new Thanksgiving traditions like dunking their bread in cranberry sauce and playing Candyland with their Grandfather. Somewhere within all the table conversations, all the mmmms and aaahhhs about the food, I saw it. I looked across the table at my Mother and caught her eye. I saw a twinkle in her eye and words just poured out of my mouth "Happy Thanksgiving, Mom. Today was fun." I said. She looked at me with a big smile and said "This was wonderful. I am so happy. Happy Thanksgiving." And there it was, the twinkle. In my own Mother's eye, I saw that twinkle. I knew right then what it was all about. Every twinkle is a memory made, a moment remembered and special traditions created and dreamed up actually come to life.

I woke up the next morning having a mini panic attack. I realized I had not taken any pictures. I am the picture maniac in my family. I love to document my life with words but also with pictures and video. I felt sick to my stomach with this realization that there was no photo documentation of this glorious day I had with my Mother, the golden brown turkey that I made with her for my first Thanksgiving, no moments captured. So I as someone very close to me said, I was meant to write about this day and I must have been so engrossed in the awesome-ness of the day that I did not even think to take pictures. And even though a part of me believes this to be just fluff, I have these memories so close to my heart that another part of me will always remember how special it was, especially when I see that twinkle in my Mother's eye or when I look in the mirror, I will know why.