Ode to Mothers

I was cleaning out my files on our hard drive when I came across this little souvenir from last Mother's Day. I wrote it because I was feeling so guilty about yelling at my kids on mother's day but then I didn't know what to do with it. Ha! I love blogging. Now I know what to do with all my psychotic musings...anyway, I would wait until mother's day to post it but I have so much more to say this year on mother's day. Anyway, an ode to mothers.

The Sunday before Mother’s Day, I was sitting next to my 7-year old primary class in closing exercises when we were asked to practice a new song. I had never heard this song before but the children were told they quickly needed to learn it since they would be singing next week in sacrament meeting for Mother’s day. The song honored mothers with comparisons to lilac bushes, green earth after rain, and bluebirds singing. The children sang the song with about as much enthusiasm as a death march.
Midway through the massacre, I leaned over to ask a little girl in my class if she had ever heard this song before. She replied that they had sung it once in opening exercises. I asked if she knew what the song was about. She said it was about somebody’s mom but she wasn’t sure whom. It captured the essence regarding some of my complicated feelings regarding Mother’s day. Just whose mother ARE all those songs written about in the Children’s Songbook?
Please don’t misunderstand me. While I applaud a holiday dedicated to pampering and honoring all the mothers of the world, I am ready for a more realistic perspective on the day. Instead of feeling guilty because I don’t fit a single song lyric, poet’s verse, or heart wrenching story, I would like to be applauded because most of the time I am dressed before noon, sometimes I smell clean, and there are even days when the dishes get done. If we sang a song about a mother in yellow pajamas with cereal spilled down her front, my children would know whom the song was about. If we read a poem about a mom who knew how to build a pirate ship, get a spider web to come out of her sleeve, make a paper Spiderman mask out of toilet paper, or build a slide out of couch cushions, my kids could celebrate the fun moments. And if someone would tell a story about a woman, who cherishes alone time in the bathroom and appreciates the family’s sympathy when she breaks out into tears over nothing, I could sit and feel real. I have decided that this Mother’s Day, I’m going to celebrate all the "real" moms out there, the ones who occasionally yell, lose their cool, and have temper tantrums. The moms who aren’t always clean or pretty smelling but are in the trenches making it all happen. The ones who endure long games of make-believe, Wiggles videos, and endless excursions to the park because they know in the end how much those things matter. Being a mom is the most rewarding experience I have ever had. But it also involves more selflessness, sacrifice, and patience than I possess making me far from the perfect mom. The greatest part of the adventure is that when I stop and look at this little monkey on my knee who has the grossest diaper I have ever smelled and is determined to get me to stop typing and play with him, I know I am going to make it because I have the world’s best teachers. By the time they are done with me and waving good-bye from their dorm windows, I may start to get it. They get it and will stick with me until I figure it out. So hooray for all the imperfect moms and the families that love them!

Visual Evidence

A few blogs ago, I told the story of my darling son and his smelly rubber rain boots. Well, he is still wearing them which has proven useful over the last few rainy days but seem ridiculous when it is 65 degrees outside and sunny. When I asked him the other day if they were making his feet hot, he said, "Yeah Mom" and sat down, took off his boots, took off his socks, and put back on the boots. So here is my favorite picture of Matthew and his blue boots.

Calling All Opinionated People

First of all something must be said...without really being able to explain why, I have a feeling my brother Chip is lurking around these blogs without identifying himself. I can't tell you why this "spidey" sense is telling me so, but if you are my dear brother, you have been caught and now must make yourself known!

Over the past few months I have been compulsively compiling lists of "must read" and "must see" books and movies. I have assembled all these post-it notes and scrapes of paper into one pile where I shall now ask my faithful readers to help me sort out what is really worth reading/seeing and what can be left alone. Here is my "wish" list:

MOVIES
The Sea Inside
Finding Neverland
Born Into Brothels
Yesterday
Lemony Snickett's Series of Unfortunate Events
Story of Weeping Camel
As It Is In Heaven
The Chorus
Downfall
Tupac Resurrection
Twist of Fate
Maria Full of Grace
Spanglish
Meet the Fockers


BOOKS
Don't Let's Go to the Dogs Tonight (Alexandra Fuller)
The Hours (Michael Cunningham)
Caramelo (Sandra Cisneros)
What Should I Do With My Life? (Po Bronson)
Executioner's Song (Norman Mailer)
Raising Ephraim's Child (author?)

Given the limited amount of time I have these days, I really want to spend my time on things interesting and thought provoking. If any one has opinions on any of these things, let it be known!!

A Grand Day Out

Today was a splendid day in so many different ways. It was the type of day where for no apparent reason, all the elements in the universe combined to create a series of perfect moments. A day that will live in my senses for many years to come.

The weather outside was perfect. A balmy 65 degrees, sunny, clear, and windy. I loaded my 3 children into the mini-van and drove to Carrie's house. There, on a blanket in the backyard, Carrie, Kacy, Maggie, Ben, Jake, Matthew, Hannah and I ate a delicious lunch, listened to fabulous music, and bonded. The wild bird reserve was beautiful, the kids were delightful, and the company wonderful. As a great momento of the moment, Kacy presented me with 3 CD's that she had made for each of my children. It wasn't until I got in the car and took a look at the "index" she had made that I realized she had individually tailored each CD for my individual children. I was so touched! I'm not that nice of a person and I'm always seriously overwhelmed that there are people in the world that thoughtful and kind...and that I actually KNOW them! What a blessing!

After lunch, my children and I drove to Orem where we met my Aunt Jan. She played out on the big lawn while I went in to Hannah's physical therapy appointment. I came out to find her and my boys blowing bubbles and laughing. I sat on the lawn and appreciated all the things I love about my favorite aunt and my 3 children.

Next, I took the kids to Toys R' Us where we picked out 2 kites to take to the park with us. We walked around and looked at all the toys and I loved listening to Matthew run from toy to toy shouting, "Mom! Wow! Look at this!" They were enthralled by a store with so many wonders and we just walked around trying to take it all in. Hannah was wide awake in her car seat passing out big, beautiful smiles and cooing away. She loves to talk and my favorite times are when she looks me in the eye and I know the sounds she is making are just for me. Amazing!

Our last stop was Fort Utah Park where we met our play dates. We played at the park and flew kites and held each others babies and were happy for a long time. I loved running around the grass with my boys trying to get the kites to fly and then untangling them from the trees when they finally did. I loved watching several of the kids crowd around Hannah's car seat where all their sweetness and gentility come oozing out at the sight of a tiny baby smiling at them. I love dear, dear friends who each bring something so unique and special into my life. I love having this play group to share my children and experiences as a mother. These women and their children have enriched my life in very special ways. I never anticipated having such strong, wonderful friends at this phase in my life. I am so grateful.

I have always believed that heaven would be a different experience for each one of us based on the things that made each of individually joyful in this life. As I drove home tonight listening to the Hannah's CD from Kacy and watching each of my children drop off to sleep, I decided what I would like my little heaven to look like. I will be wearing my favorite blue skirt (it would be clean...no spit up or soda) and my favorite "Britney Spears", pre-teen, lace-around-the-ankle shoes. There will be an abundance of perfect balmy days and lots of green, soft grass. I will have kites and bubbles and swings galore. There will be an abundance of diet soda and delicious foods. Blankets and soft chairs will be scattered about and great music playing softly all the time. The best part will be my children...they will forever be mine. I will be able to tickle them, kiss them, hold them, and play with them all I want. They will never grow up and move away and not want to be picked up and squeezed. I won't ever be distracted for a moment by the things that don't really matter in eternity. My attention will be undivided. I will have each dear friend there to share these moments with and to continue learning from. I am grateful for each sweet moment where I realize heaven is not so far away...it is right here surrounding us.

Anyone Need a Wipie?

I have had some real adventures uncovering the true meaning of things in my life...

Every spring, as I watch my husband slaving away in our yard, I am taken back to a choice moment in my life when innocence was torn away and reality became a harsh teacher. I was 9 or 10 years old when one day I was searching all the drawers in my parent's bathroom for some random item. As I opened the bottom drawer, I came across a whole box of what I naively thought were "Wet Wipes". I loved Wet Wipes and eagerly grabbed a package to tear open for a little mid-afternoon hand washing. Well, I tore open the package and out fell this strange rubber like object. I picked it up and stared at it for a long, long time. It most definitely wasn't a wet wipe, not a balloon...what could this thing be? And then it hit me. I don't know what background knowledge I had regarding these type of things but somehow I just knew. Looking back on the moment, I don't know what was more horrific...that I was standing in my parent's bathroom holding a condom or realizing that my parents actually did things that required a condom. I didn't know what to do. I thought about flushing it but I was worried it would clog the toliet. If I threw it in the trash, I was scared a parental unit would find it and come confront me. So I did the only logical thing I could think of...I stuffed it in my pocket, went to the garage, found a shovel, dug a hole in the front flower bed, and buried it deep in the earth. Why I chose the front flower bed when there was a whole forest behind our house is still somewhat of a mystery to me...but I have often wondered about the people who bought the house after us and the first spring planting that they did in the front yard and what thoughts crossed their minds as they uncovered that buried condom?! Ah, the innocence of youth.