How Children Keep You Young

The snow has dropped its suitcases in Northern New Jersey and determined to outstay its welcome. Snow makes the best of us a little cranky on our morning commute, but for my kids, it’s an adventure.

While I’m shivering and trying to hurry everyone along so that my six year old isn't late for school, he’s climbing every snow pile without any concern to his socks getting wet or even falling flat on the ice. He even turned our short drop-off/pick-up walk into a game, it’s called “survivor night.” Basically, you can only walk on the snow, you must climb over every snow pile, and there are no such things as “rescues” or “help from mom.” There are levels and points, but they seem to be randomly determined at the discretion of the six year old. Needless to say, it takes us twice as long to walk the half a block from school to where I park the car. It can be exhausting, and frustrating, when all I want to do is get out of the cold and get on with my day. We are always the last ones to leave.

But the other day, I decided to give in and play along. I trudged through the snow instead of walking the path, I climbed over the huge mounds in the parking lot made by the snowplows while other parents stared— their children eyeing us enviously. My two sons were overjoyed by my participation. They became even more dedicated to the game, humming theme music as we jumped over obstacles.

Something strange happened in that moment, some block of ice melted off my shoulders, and I realized that I felt free. So often, my day to day experience of being a parent turns into a routine, and it becomes more about “looking” like a good parent, (whatever version of that we imagine it to be), than being in the moment. I realized that I felt more like myself crunching snow and kicking ice, than I did walking the cleared path and trying to corral everyone.

Maybe we’re all just six year olds pretending to be grown ups. Wearing grown up clothes and acting how we think grown ups are supposed to act, “don’t get your shoes wet,” “don’t run,” “don’t be late.”

We might think that being a parent means we have to put ourselves above the fun, when in reality, it’s an opportunity to join in.

Sure, my kids might give me gray hair, but they also provide me with endless opportunities to be present; to look at life with curious eyes, to find joy where others see misery, to be a part of the game.

This morning my son took his boots off and walked through the snow in order to try out his new waterproof socks, “double points,” he said. 

Game on.

Three's a Crowd: Romance After Baby

Credit: Vitacost.com

When two becomes three, it’s not just the living room full of baby toys, or the safety locks on all the cabinets, everything is transformed, including your relationship.

When I had my first baby, I knew that things would change, but it was still jolting stepping into that uncharted territory. I remember the doctor telling me I could have sex six weeks after the baby was born. “You have got to be kidding me,” I thought. That was absolutely the last thing on my mind. I was overwhelmed with being a new mom, I was exhausted and terrified, and everything I had to give was being given to my son. The first time my husband and I had sex after the baby was born was disappointing. It felt different, sometimes painful, and I was completely terrified that this was it, that things would never get back to where they were. I was so traumatized by that first experience, that it took another couple months before I tried again. (My husband is seriously the most patient and compassionate person ever...points for life!) But guess what? Eventually my body healed, my hormones calmed down, I got a handle on the whole being a mom thing, and things did get back to normal, even better than they were before. We even managed to make another baby (and things were way less traumatic the second time!)



If I could go back and give myself (and my husband) some words of wisdom, this is what I’d say:


Hey Mama:

• You are amazing! You grew a baby and then you gave birth like a warrior. Your body is fabulous, and just did something incredible. So don’t be too hard on it. You need time to heal, physically and emotionally.
• Be honest with your partner. Tell them what you are feeling.
• If you are not ready to go all in yet, show your love in other ways. I know you are completely consumed with this amazing little bundle, but your husband helped make that happen, so make sure to let him know that you love and appreciate him.
• It will be different at first, but it will get better. Don't spend time feeling guilty or worrying, just take it one day at a time.

Hey Daddy:

• I know you are sleep deprived and going a little crazy because your wife is super hormonal. It will pass. Right now, she needs extra compassion and love. Trust me, she will make it up to you eventually.
• Your wife loves you, please don’t feel rejected, it’s not about you. She’s just exhausted, and it’s hard to feel sexy when you spend the day with spit up all over your shirt.
• Her boobs belong to the baby right now. You’ll get them back, but you just have to wait your turn. Sorry.
• Don’t forget the first Valentine’s Day after baby (psst. She wants a bubble bath, chocolate, and a nice long nap!)

Most of all, never forget that you are in this together. When things get rocky, remember to turn towards each other and not away. That sweet little baby wouldn’t exist without both of you. Also, he won't be traumatized for life if you let him cry for an extra five minutes while you make up for lost time, enjoy!

This post originally appeared onmogul.com

5 Mantras Every Parent Should Know

It’s no secret that parenting is hard, it’s a 24/7 job that offers little acknowledgement and no glamour. Some days, you just need a little help to get through. Over the years, I've developed (and stolen) some helpful sayings that keep me going and remind me that it's a beautiful and privileged journey:

This Too Shall Pass

Kids grow so fast, just when you think you've got it down, they flip the script and you have to learn it all over again. The good news is, that everything is a phase— they eventually sleep through the night, get dressed by themselves, and learn to use the toilet. The bad news is, everything is a phase. They’ll stop asking for a bedtime story and leave for school without a hug. This mantra is a double edged sword. It reminds us that the difficult parts don’t last forever and better days are right around the corner. It also reminds us to put things in perspective and not to take the joyful moments for granted. Sure, it’s exhausting to have a baby wake you up during the night, but those midnight snuggles are precious and fleeting.

http://www.chaimbentorah.com/2014/01/word-study-pass-2/

You have to laugh or you’ll cry

This is for the inevitable moments when your kids destroy all of your favorite things. If you are about to have a baby just take my advice, pack up anything you even remotely care about, and put it into storage for the next 18 years. Also, never buy a white rug. Even with this precaution, your cute little cherub will still manage to make trouble. This mantra reminds me that there is a choice when you see your kid’s dump out an entire bag of sugar, you can get upset, or you can laugh (and grab a camera). Laughing does not teach your kids that it’s okay to make a mess or break things, you can still make them help you clean it up, but it does show them (and reminds you) that things don’t matter in the long run, they do.

Say it with a song

When I’m late for an appointment and I need to get out the door, 

when the kids won’t eat their dinner and they throw it on the floor, 

when it’s time to clean up toys but they still want to play, 

say it with a song and the work becomes a game! 

I’m no Mary Poppins, I can’t snap my fingers to clean up the nursery (this is my “if you could have any superpower” wish), but I can make up silly songs about whatever I want the kids to do, and it really is a kind of magic. I know you feel stupid, but trust me, it works. I have to give props to Yo Gabba Gabba here, who taught me you could make up a song about anything:

treat yo self

A reminder to take care of yourself, and to celebrate little victories. Got the kids to bed on time? Treat yo self! Got all the laundry done? Treat yo self! Survive a holiday weekend with house guests and hyper kids? Girl, you better treat yo self! A bubble bath, an extra cup of coffee, a new pair of earrings...whatever revives or lights you up a little bit. My personal fave is a binge session with Netflix and my secret stash of chocolate (shhh!)

I'm alive

As wonderful as being a parent can be, and as helpful as all those other mantras and advice are, there are some days when the only thing you can be grateful for is that you are still alive, (and so are the kids!). Hey, that’s okay. Tomorrow is another day, and being alive is pretty great.

You Have to Laugh or You'll Cry: Episode 4

My son's new phase is drawing on his body with (thankfully) washable  marker

some sort of tribal markings?

"I'm a tiger!"

He's taken the dress up game to another level. He's an artist! I'm so proud

Children's books that don't drive Mom crazy: Jamberry

It's no surprise that we are book people here. Before I became a mom, I thought that reading with my kids was all cuddling and Dr. Seuss ryhmes. Little did I know that I would be reading, "Elmo's Birthday Surprise" NINE times in a row. I love reading, I love that my kids love reading with me, but one thing I've learned about children's books: there is an elite group of books among the million that actually entertain the parents (or at least don't drive us crazy), and stand up to the multiple read test. These books are the ones that stand the test of time, and what every children's book should aspire to be.

Jamberry
Story and Illustration by Bruce Degen
harperCollins, 1983 (this book is as old as I am!)


We first discovered this book at the library and it quickly became part of our regular rotation. We now own TWO copies, one in large hardcover and the other as a small board book.

This is a wonderful book with imaginative illustrations, and bouncy verse. These days, the majority of picture books tend to be in prose, partly because publishers discourage and are often not interested in "rhyming" books. The logic goes, unless you are Dr. Seuss or Maurice Sendak, then "do NOT try this at home". It's not so much that it's difficult to write a book in rhyme, but it is certainly a challenge to write one well.

I love a good rhyming book, and so do my kids, so when I find one it's like a precious gem. Rhyming gives it that "sing-song" quality that lends to many reads, and it also helps the kids (and me) to remember it. My oldest can actually recite some pages by memory.

Here is one of my favorite passages:

"Rumble and ramble
In blackberry bramble
Billions of berries
For blackberry jamble"

I mean, have you ever heard alliteration this b-eautiful? and "jamble" how deliciously cute.

This book is also all about FUN. There are no heavy handed moral lessons at the end, no counting or alphabet letters. Just an exciting romp through the woods to pick berries with a boy and a bear.

It's funny, creative, and cute. The illustrations will never get boring either. Look closely at the pages and you'll find some juicy details: marshmallow reeds, trees made out of toast, and jelly-roll flowers, to name just a few.
                     
It probably helps that this book evokes memories of berry picking out in the woods on the Fourth of July when I was a kid, but even if you didn't have such a rustic childhood I think you'll still enjoy this delightful read.


What are some of your favorite picture books? I'll be posting more reviews from time to time, feel free to make a request! 

Why Moms are Like Jupiter

Earth vs. Jupiter

Last night at dinner, Baba (what my kids call my father-in-law) was talking about the moon. He told us what the full moon in September was called in Japan, and mentioned that there had been no clouds in the sky all day, so we would be able to see it very clearly.

Miles got excited about the outer space topic, so before bed we found a cool space documentary to watch.

Side note: Isn't technology amazing? It often gets a bad wrap I think. We hear about the over use of technology, addiction to video games or our smart phones, a disconnection with our bodies and the earth...but really, how amazing is it that when you have a question or inspiration about something, you can instantly find a resource to feed it. It seems to me, like most "things", technology isn't the problem, it's whether we use it for good (discovery channel) or evil (*cough* real housewives *cough, cough*). 

Anyway, the program counted down the 10 most cataclysmic disasters in the Universe. The basic premise was that the relative calm and order to our present solar system actually comes on the heals of billions of years of Armageddon like disasters, instability, and violence. Planets crashed into each other, switched orbits, some were flung from the solar system, and others were bombarded with asteroids for a million years.

If I were a science person, I might geek out about the technical aspects, the mathematics, or the evidence that lead to these discoveries. But alas, I am a writer, so those things are lost on me. Instead, I make everything into a metaphor:

One of the things I found fascinating was the Comet Shoemaker–Levy 9 collision with Jupiter. Basically, it was a comet that broke apart and the pieces collided with Jupiter in succession, creating 21 Earth size scars in its atmosphere. While the scientists explained the event and its significance, they said that Jupiter probably actually protects other planets, especially Earth, from these kinds of impacts. It's so large and its gravitational field so huge, that it draws comets and asteroids to itself, and maybe away from Earth.

Hubble Telescope image of temporary craters 

So there I was, with my kids curled up in my lap, imagining that I was Jupiter; deflecting all the hurt, disappointment, and dangers away from my little Earths. Of course, there are always some that get through, but hopefully, the big magnetic field of self-esteem, courage, and love that we try to cloak them with, is enough to burn up any intruder in the atmosphere before it does too much damage.

Then again, sometimes it takes a little intrusion, a metaphoric "big bang" if you will, to get to the place of perfect planetary orbit.

Either way, we'll always be standing by, a watchful giant, willing to take the biggest blow.

"Ain't that work?"

Illustration from Tom Sawyer
The Mark Twain House, Hartford

“What do you call work?”

“Why, ain’t that work?”

Tom resumed his whitewashing, and answered carelessly:

“Well, maybe it is, and maybe it ain’t. All I know, is, it suits Tom Sawyer.”

Do you remember that scene in "Tom Sawyer", where Tom convinces all the neighborhood boys to whitewash the fence?

Despite the fact that it doesn't have anything to do with the rest of the plot, and there are plenty of more exciting scenes in this adventure, it's one of the most memorable.

Of course it has all the great skill of Twain as a writer and a satirist, and it perfectly illustrates Tom's clever but mischievous character, but I think we love it most, because it's a trick. We laugh at how Tom convinces his friends that whitewashing the fence is a great game, when of course we know it's work. They are being played, and we laugh at how Tom brilliantly executes the con, leaning back in the shade, admiring his work, children begging and offering gifts to have the next turn.

I have found myself running cons, "Okay! time to clean up the toys! who can do it faster? on your mark..."

Whistle while you work, a spoonful of sugar, and all that nonsense.

My two year old is always eager to help me sweep, he gets out his own little broom and dust pan, and I've randomly found my older one arranging pillows on the couch. It's true, kids love games, and when they are young, they don't know the difference between work and play. Everything is play. Especially in that stage where they want to copy everything you do. So when does it become work? and how do they learn?

Unfortunately, probably much sooner than we would like, and most likely they learn it from us; from every time we groan at having to do the dishes, every sigh at taking out the trash, every whine about folding laundry. It's no secret that we are the model, the eyes through which our children learn how to see the world.

It's good psychology, chores need to get done, children like to play, make the chores into a game! We trick them.

But...

maybe we're the ones being tricked. After all, how wonderful would it be to feel excited about putting away the toys; how lovely to play a game, how pleasant to live in the moment and enjoy your "work".

Tom may have played a trick on the other children, but the children still had fun, and the fence got painted. Everyone wins.

I'm trying an experiment, maybe it's not enough to "trick" my kids into doing their chores. Maybe I need to trick myself too. Stop the complaining, especially in those moments when you think they are not listening because that's always when they are. Maybe, if I pretend long enough, I can recapture some of that play for myself.

Just don't tell my kids it's work! Maybe it will take them a little longer to be tricked, when I'm the one who needs to learn.

"Tom said to himself that it was not such a hollow world, after all. He had discovered a great law of human action, without knowing it – namely, that in order to make a man or a boy covet a thing, it is only necessary to make the thing difficult to attain. If he had been a great and wise philosopher, like the writer of this book, he would now have comprehended that Work consists of whatever a body is obliged to do, and that Play consists of whatever a body is not obliged to do."

If you don't have your copy of Tom Sawyer handy and need a refresher, or just a little nostalgia, you can read the full scene here:  http://www.pbs.org/marktwain/learnmore/writings_tom.html

"You Have to Laugh or You'll Cry": Ep. 3

It's been awhile (surprisingly!) Since I've had one of these worthy to share. There was a food coloring incident a few weeks ago but I didn't get very good pictures. So, when Miles opened a container of left-over spaghetti, I just grabbed my camera and waited. Deliciously horrifying and hilarious. My boys never disappoint.

Meet Captain Noodle Head and his sidekick, Skylar Spaghetti!

(Pasta boy?, Noodle Nose, The Fantastic Fettuccine...)

Mama Mia!

You would think the hardest part was getting the spaghetti out of the hair...but no, it was the pasta on the floor that got all smushed up into a gooey paste. It's been awhile since I mopped the floor anyway. 

At least there was no sauce. (Marvelous Marinara!)

Ode to Being Lame

As I sang along to, "I can't make you love me" on the radio in my car, I thought about how this was the new "oldies" music, and how when my kids are grown they will think everything I like is totally lame (including the phrase, "totally lame"). I'm turning 30 in less than two months, and it actually feels really good. I feel like I'm just starting to get to know the real me, and the more I age, the less I tend to worry about what other people think. The less I tolerate toxic people or situations in my life. The less I get dragged down by drama. Perhaps it's the fate of all parents to be lame, but not because they've given up or let themselves go. Maybe they just know about the things that really matter and they are paving the way for their children, setting the example. It's okay to be lame, it's good, it's wonderful, come join me! I love you no matter what.

Ode to Being Lame

Here's to mom jeans and sappy love songs,
To staying in on a Friday night
To watching flowers bloom in my garden
To saving $1 on milk
To library books
To walks with the dog
To finally cleaning out the garage

To a beat up pair of sneakers that never give me blisters
To a new recipe for dinner, made with whatever is left in the fridge

Oh, to escape the shackles of trendy!
To kick off high-heeled shoes!
To happy, with what I have!
To comfortable, in my skin!

Oh, to lose the race!

To lie down!

To make mistakes and be forgiven!
To sing and dance and not care who is watching!

To wrinkles from smiling
To sun on my face
To speak, what I feel
To hear, my own voice

To say, "I love you" without fear,
"Goodbye" without guilt

Down with IN

and should

and better 

and can't

and no

and someday

Here’s to being on the outs,

to Love

to Give
to Choose

to Yes

to Now

and 

Why not?

Art Therapy

Today I felt defeated before I even began.

I've been tired lately. Not just mom-with-two-kids tired. My MIND has been tired. I haven't had the motivation to do anything, and with my physical state of regular-mom-tired, it pushed me into a state only once removed from "walking zombie". 

I felt like I had been in a fog that I just couldn't see the end of. Everywhere I turned, all I could see were things that discouraged me; dirty dishes in the sink, a carpet that needed to be vacuumed, a to-do-list that never gets crossed off, my writing notebook waiting to be opened. I actually sat down in the middle of the kitchen floor for a few minutes, feeling like I couldn't take another step, couldn't look at anything else.

My toddler came over and gave me a hug. :::oh!:: That gave me just enough motivation to make some coffee, which lifted my spirits, and my energy level a bit.

As I sat at the table trying to suck up every last drop of caffeine, my older son dumped out the art box all over the floor. I just watched, and let it roll off, I didn't care. The place was already a mess. I had given up. He took out some little foam cut-out pieces, found some paper and asked me to find the glue. 

I threw back the last sip and sat down to do some crafts, helping my toddler who wanted to play too. It was so cute watching them stick little moons and stars onto the paper, while naming the colors and shapes out loud.  I thought about how great it would be to have a "craft room" in our new house. A room where it didn't matter if you colored on the walls or dripped paint on the floor; where all their masterpieces could be on permanent display. Somehow, it was just what I needed. It flipped a switch, and just like that the fog was gone.

I still haven't had breakfast yet...but I feel like I can tackle the day now. The dishes in the sink don't feel so daunting, and I feel inspired to tackle that to-do-list. Maybe we'll break out the paints later, or I might even take the kids to Barnes and Noble (something my 4 year old has been begging me to do for weeks!). 

Who would have thought that some glue and foam shapes could make all the difference. The cute boys helped too...

Here's to the little things. They are actually the big things. :)

You have to laugh or you'll cry: Episode 2

I told you this would be an on going series!

My husband recently had a funny incident at the grocery store. He did all the shopping, came home, and realized he forgot to load the groceries in the car! oh no!! So he rushes back to the store but the cart is gone. He explained everything to one of the security people and they said to take his receipt, go shop for everything and he could get it for free.

So he loads up the cart again, following the receipt exactly. But at the register, the person comes back and says, "Sorry, the manager says you can't have it for free."

So he just pays for everything again.

As he goes out to the car, he opens up the back, and that's when he sees...THE GROCERIES! They were there the whole time!

So now we have double of everything. Haha.

Why am I telling you this story? Besides the fact that it's pretty funny, it explains why I am glad we had two whole bags of sugar in my pantry...because one of them ended up like this:

notice the random recyclables and crayon on the cabinet

sittin in the sugar

I may be sending mixed messages by taking pictures!

 In other news, my husband and I just got approved for a mortgage...so perhaps before too long the kids will be able to destroy a house that we OWN! Oh Joy :)

You have to laugh or you'll cry: episode 1

This is the first installment of what will undoubtedly be an ongoing series called, "you have to laugh or you'll cry!"

This is what happens when I leave the kids unattended in the other room for too long...you know, when I get caught up writing blog posts...

You know something is wrong when it gets too quiet. This is three rolls, or should I say "un-rolls" of paper towels.

This is what three rolls of paper towels looks like folded up:

And then 20 minutes later...

I give up! Mama will be in the bedroom hiding under the covers. Come and get me if the house is burning down.

For those left waiting

It's unimaginable, and yet, every parent around the world, the moment they heard about the school shooting at Sandy Hook Elementary School on Friday, imagined. What if? What if that were MY child?

I have watched very little news coverage. I don't want to relive it over and over. I don't want to be party to speculation of how this could or could not be prevented, the shooter's motives, or using it as some sort of political leverage.

The first and only article I read about the event described the children being evacuated from the school and brought to the local firehouse where their parents were waiting. I keep going back to that firehouse, imagining myself there, waiting for my child to come, the relief of seeing them walk through that door. Or, the agony of being one of the parents left waiting for their baby who would never come. I imagine un-opened Christmas presents, and empty chairs.

The stories of the heroic teachers that protected their students give a moment of peace, until I remember that they were someone's child too.

All I know to do is to pray for those families, to offer up my support, and to hug my children extra tight.

Tragedies like this remind us of our humanity. It reminds me that we are lucky to be alive, that everything we have is a gift, that tomorrow is not promised to anyone. It reminds me that no matter what boundaries separate us, whether it be oceans, or continents, or religion, or politics, we all love our children. We all would give our lives for theirs if we could.

For everyone lucky enough: Cherish your children, hold them extra tightly. Thank God for every day that you are together.

For the parents left waiting: May a God who shares the heart of a grieving parent and who mourns for every lost child, be with you.

and for those children: May a God who is a loving parent wrap you in his arms.

Do you hear what I hear?

Sometimes you wonder if your kids even listen to you at all.

like my son Miles. He has a little bit of a perfectionist complex. He has to do things a certain way, and everything has to go exactly according to his plan or it's melt down city. I've been dealing with this for about two years now. This is a kid who directs everything down to what everyone is supposed to say ("say, 'oh, I wonder what's in there!' say that Mama, say that!") and tells me where I'm supposed to hide during a game of hide and seek. Sometimes I do okay, I give him a speech about how things don't always have to be perfect, that we can still have fun even if it doesn't go the way we planned. Other times, I have a mini-meltdown of my own and I wonder if it's ever really going to sink in. God forbid someone cut his sandwich the wrong way or open the door before he does!

Maybe he'll grow out of it, but I can name more than a few adults who have this same problem, and this is one thing I don't want him to carry with him all his life. It's one thing to want to do your best, but it can be debilitating if done to excess.

The other day we visited with some old friends who have a five year old daughter. The dad is one of my husband's best friends, they used to play in a band together. We met them at his parents' house where there is still a full drum set in the basement. Miles now wants to have a band and be a "drummer for life!". The two kids were playing happily in the basement, banging on drums and singing into the microphone, until the little girl came stomping up the stairs and sat down at the table, arms crossed and a frown on her face. Miles followed quickly after. He went up to her, put his hand on her shoulder and said,

"I know it's hard when you want things to be perfect, but things don't always have to be perfect."

She was not convinced, although eventually she was able to get over whatever it was and get back to playing again.

But right there my heart did a back flip and landed in a split, pom poms waving. He's listening! It's actually sinking in!

Even though I might have to give the same speech a hundred more times without any indication that he "gets it", he does hear me.

Keep on talking, even if you think it'll never sink in. Patience works both ways.

The Santa Card

It may not just be the commercialization of Christmas that keeps Santa alive. Just maybe, it's parents all over the world who realize that the threat of no toys on Christmas is an extremely effective behavior modification tool.

Just recently my husband played the Santa Card. My son is only four, and so previous to this, we had talked about Santa, but never in any serious way, he was just a fun character in the overall joyfulness of Christmas. But this time he is fully aware. As his dad explained that Santa would be watching and seeing if he's a good boy, I could see him take it all in. I didn't realize the power of it, until my usually rambunctious boy, without a word, calmly sat down at the table and ate his dinner like a little gentleman. I was beyond astonished. So, I wasn't sure about this at first...it seems like the easy way out. I have to admit though, the magic of it got me a couple of times, and I have since used it on a few occasions. I don't want to overdo it though, what if the magic runs out?! I have to milk this while I can!

And yet, I feel a little guilty. Am I setting him up for disappointment down the road?
That's another reason not to overdo it, I don't want it to be just a negative thing, the card that I pull out as a threat, I want to be able to emphasize the positive spirit of giving. I have always wanted to, when the kids are old enough, start a yearly tradition of having them donate some of their toys or clothes, or helping out with a food drive. Maybe this is the year.

Santa is watching...

A moth in a box OR A four year old contemplates the afterlife

There is a dead moth, curled up inside an origami box, on top of my kitchen counter.

I had been cleaning in the living room, and was making my way to the bedroom when Miles came running in and said, "mama, someone killed a moth!"

My first thought, "did you kill a moth?"

Miles: "no! someone else did it! come see!"

really?

I had my eye on the clock, it was almost time to start the bedtime routine.

sigh...alright.

as I followed him out to the living room he came to the place where there was indeed a small dead moth on the floor. He bent down beside it and gingerly scooped it up, cupping it in his tiny hand.

"see?" he said, holding it out to me.

"yeah, I see" I said with fake enthusiasm. "Okay, lets throw it away..."

But Miles would not have it, "no! he's my friend!", he says.

Uh Oh. I see where this is going now.

I turned to my only frame of reference when it comes to kids and talking about death: the episode of The Cosby Show where Rudy's goldfish, Mr. Fish, dies. Thanks Cosby Show, I know just what to do!

So I started fashioning the origami box (thank goodness our craft box is always well stocked), and I suggested we have a funeral.

"what's that?" He asked.

"when someone dies you have a funeral to say good bye to them, and their body goes in a box so they can rest." I explained, quite proud of my fast thinking.

Miles replied, "but I don't want him to be died! I want him to be alive! make him alive again!"

This is when he really started to get distressed. It was then I realized I was going to need more than the Cosby Show. I was out of my depth. Not knowing what else to say, I started explaining how we have a body, but we also have a spirit, and that our body dies and goes away (into the cemetery...we drive by one on the way to school so we have in theory broached this topic, but I could see him putting the pieces together probably for the first time) but your spirit stays and goes to heaven with God.

Then he started talking about the moth's friends and how much they would miss him. After each statement, he had another burst of tears.

I said, "yes, they will miss him, but they can talk to him anytime, just like you talk to God."

Miles is not amused, "but how does the moth go in my heart?"

So at that point I am pulling out all the big guns, wondering if this is too much for a four year old...but i'm already knee-deep, and he is asking the questions, so what am I supposed to do??

"Well, when you think about them and remember how much you love them, then you are talking to them in your heart."

Hey, good one mom!

But instead of calming him down he seemed to be even more upset. I finally convinced him to put the moth in the box and leave him with "his friends" while we got ready for bed.

We started to get our pajamas on and I wiped my brow, thinking we would read stories and not think about the moth anymore. but he starts to get even more upset, and is now choking back tears, "but...but....but..." Finally, as he fought through the tears he said, "but...if my body died....and...I go to heaven, and I'm with God....then I'll miss you so much!"

And I'm done.

The three of us (because my one year old is a little copy cat) collapse on the bed into one big crying bundle.

After a few minutes of crying, assuring him over and over that I wouldn't let anything happen to him, that we would be together for a long time, the tears turned into giggles, and Miles was bouncing on the bed as if nothing happened.

He'll most likely forget this moment (especially after I throw away that moth!). But I won't. I'll keep it in my heart, just like God, the people I love, and the moth.

squeaky clean

I like my showers hot, like turn your skin red hot. Especially when the cool weather starts to creep in, there's nothing more comforting than a steam filled bathroom.

No one told me when I first had children, that this very simple pleasure would very quickly become a luxury.

This morning with the baby asleep, and my three year old occupied with his morning cartoons, I took a long, hot, shower, and felt all the stress, anxiety, and grime wash away. The saying is true, you really don't know what you've got till it's gone. But maybe that's okay. Maybe you need the loss and the change to make you appreciate just how lovely even the simple moments can be.

Because it's not happiness that makes you grateful, it's gratitude that makes you happy.

I think I can squeeze in a cup of tea before the baby wakes up...

Bacon Love

When I was younger, my mother would always take the burnt piece of chicken or burger, or whatever we were having for dinner that night. I found this odd, why would anyone want and willingly take the burnt piece all the time?

Today I took the burnt pieces of bacon at breakfast and gave the good ones to Miles, and I get it. True Love.

The hardest thing

I recently came across something I wrote about eight months ago, when Miles was in the throws of the "terrible threes tantrum" stage. Though things have improved greatly on this front, the wisdom still rings true:

The other day I met with my son's pre-school teacher. She told me about how smart he was and what a great vocabulary, and then commented, "he has such a strong personality!" Which is teacher speak for, your son is crazy! God bless her.

As I write this, he is throwing a tantrum in the kitchen. A full on kicking and screaming, red faced, writhing on the floor tantrum. All because the spoon he wanted to eat his breakfast with was dirty.

These are the things that they don't tell you about when you bring home that little sweet bundle who sleeps more than he's awake. How I miss those days sometimes...

The terrible threes (the common term is "terrible twos, but I swear he was an angel compared to three.) have tested my patience more than anything else I've faced yet. and the fact that I'm doing it with a six month old in tow means that I'm doing it on half the sleep. Sitting here writing about it is my attempt to disconnect emotionally from the situation. All the parenting books and experts say to not react to tantrums, let them run their course and then try to talk to them when they calm down. These experts must also be Buddhist monks because nothing can raise your blood pressure and get the cortisol pumpnig quite like a three year old having a temper tantrum. I start to feel anxious at just the sound of a child screaming, even if it's not mine! What I've found so far in my parenting adventure, is that doing nothing is the hardest thing. You want to fix it, you want to comfort, you want to push some switch to make them feel better...and to make your ears stop ringing. But the more you feed into the temper, the longer it lasts, so here I am fighting against every instinct, hammering out my frustration on the keyboard.

Still, in a few minutes I will most likely go over to him, put my arms around him and just hold him while he cries. And when he calms down I'll go over to the sink and wash the dirty spoon so he can have it with his cereal. Am I setting my son up for disappointment? That the world will not bow to his every request? Am I teaching him that the way to get what he wants is just to scream louder and for as long as he can? I don't know. Honestly, when I concern myself with doing everything "by the book" is when I get even more setressed out. It's those times, when I find myself reacting, arguing and trying to reason with a three year old.

Life is not by the book, if I expect it to be, then I will always be disapointed. Those parenting experts don't know me or my son. Sure they have PhD's and have done clinical studies, and maybe they have children of their own. But they don't have MY child. As a parent, sometimes you have to be the expert and listen to your own instincts.

Recently, my son came home from preschool with a note form the teacher, a two sided hand written note explaining his behavior, among other things it addressed the issue of his tantrums. Nothing I didn't already know, but it still hit me in the gut and sent my heart sinking. My first reaction was that of a Mama Bear to defend her cub. Then, shame; what must they think of me as a parent? What am I doing wrong? Do they dread having my son come?

Once I got over my own feelings and sat with it, I gave myself permission to not be perfect. I forgave myself for mistakes and gave myself credit for the good things that he does. I also told myself the hard truth, that even when you do everything right, they have to learn and figure things out for themselves. There will always be tantrums, always mistakes, always lessons to learn. "You have to let them leave the nest" is the common expression, I just didn't think I would have to start letting go so soon, I always imagined it as one big band-aid when they go away to college, but it's not, it's lots of tiny little steps that add up over time. A constant letting go, a quiet guidance, still loving, but from a little farther distance each time.

As I read over this I felt deeply that this is the heart of God, our Heavenly Parent. Ever watching his children make mistakes, walking into danger, and having temper tantrums. Doing nothing, letting us make the mistake so we can learn the lesson, letting us feel a broken heart so that we grow, not intervening in our temper tantrum, it may be what is best for us. But it's the hardest thing to do.

The Grocery Store

This morning I had to pick up some things at the grocery store, milk, bread, the breakfast stables. Miles woke up at 6 again so he of course came with me. If anyone ever invents a way to tap into a three year old' s energy supply they'll make millions. The maintenance guys are still cleaning the floors in the store and Miles is darting around aisles, grabbing things off shelves, and sprinting back and forth between the check out lanes. At the last minute, as I'm paying for our groceries (including a plastic orange ball that he wants to bring home for Skylar...really, how do you say no to that?) he grabs a bag of m&m's and runs out of the store. @&#^%!

I ran after him, leaving my bagged groceries behind and caught him just as he got to the automatic doors. I pulled him aside, rather forcefully, and said, "don't you ever run away from me like that again!" My adrenaline was pumping and I felt like I was outside of my body, watching myself on the security camera. I dragged him back to the check out and made him give back the m&ms and apologize to the clerk, who was actually laughing. Everyone took it in stride, and one of the women in line made a comment about how she wished she had that much energy early in the morning.

I was still seething though on the way out, I guess my body was still high on the adrenaline. I thought about that security camera, and how I've seen videos of moms on youtube, or seen them in person and how I've judged them in that one moment. I knew I over reacted a bit. No one should be judged on one small snap shot in time, and yet we do it all of the time, to each other and to ourselves. Sure, there are cases of real abuse or neglegence, but most of the time, that woman at the grocery store is a really good mom who just hasn't had her coffee yet and is doing the best she can.

We all make mistakes, especially in raising children, we're not perfect. The next time you see a mom scolding her kids, instead of judging and saying, "that will never be me", try just offering to carry her groceries. We all just need a little bit of support. After all, it takes a village!