Motherhood

Day 6: The problem with “me” time

~ Christie ~ 2 Comments
Sea of Galilee
Sea of Galilee
Bonfire by the Sea of Galilee ~ I ask you, what is cooler than that?
Bonfire by the Sea of Galilee ~ I ask you, what is cooler than that?
Jordan before flowing into Galilee
Jordan before flowing into Galilee
Jordan River
Jordan River

Have you ever had an opportunity to do something you really wanted to do, and then realized (after the fact) that you sorta squandered it?

A dear lady our family knows offered to watch the girls so I could go do something by myself. I knew just what I wanted to do: another young mom I know gets out a lot, but not often with another lady and without her kids. So she worked it out to have someone watch her kids and we went shopping at this fabulous consignment shop I had been to. (It really is fabulous! set up like a boutique; adorable, totally in style clothes; ah! I want to go back!)

Anyways, we had a great time at the shop. I am such a poky shopper. I just love to look and look and think and think and go back; then try stuff on; decide none of it will work, etc.

Seriously, anyone who will go shopping with me ought to get a Joan of Arc award.

Every now and then, though, I see something and know I want it. (That’s why I take forever all those other times, because it’s just so hard to push me over the edge to spend money on something that doesn’t wow me.)

This time, it was a yellow wool skirt. My favorite color is yellow, but this was a new shade for me; kind of like a winter yellow? Definitely with gray undertones. Mm…mmm. Big fabric-covered buttons on both sides of the waist. And it fit. And I knew I had Christmas money coming. Then I found a yellow rope necklace to go with it and the deal was done!

Well, that was the good part. I was happy. yay.

Then, we went a few other places and I realized that I didn’t have the number of the lady who was watching my kids. Was today the day she had to pick up her grandson at school? Was she upset with me for not being back sooner? My mind started to go ka-fluey. I tried to switch lanes and almost collided with a car in my blind spot. Arg.

I dropped the girl off and rushed home, worrying the entire time about whether I had stayed out too late. (small note: the lady had specifically said, “Stay as long as you want, I’m good.”) But did she mean this long? If only I had written down her number before I left. Lack of preparation: you trouble me again!

Of course, when I got home, everything was fine. She was completely reassuring that she didn’t have anywhere to be and just wanted me to have a good time. So then I went from having a good time, to worrying I had too good of a time, to wishing I had had a better time instead of worrying about yada, yada, yada.

End of story: I felt awful. Even seriously second guessed buying the yellow skirt.

Moral??? Um, if you get a chance to get out as a young mom, just remember that stress and trouble and yourself will go with you even when your children do not. Always have a phone number to call your babysitter; even if you think you’ve had it previously (I did) check again, your nerves will thank you. And try to have a good time.

Oh yes, I did try to recount this pitiful tale to my husband who was halfway across the world on the most exciting and engaging trip of his life…via email. He better like that yellow skirt. = ) 

Thanks for reading my first series: Taking care of four little girls alone (while my husband is on an amazing study trip to Israel). Here are links to the other related posts. 

Series coming soon

It’s official: the Israel trip is on

Official introduction

Day 1: to turn out that last light

Day 2: lonely in a crowd

Day 3: Is something wrong with me?

Day 4: Sometimes you just need…

Day 5: It hit me

To stop a beating heart

~ Christie ~ Leave a comment

As I have been processing the tragedy that occurred in Newtown, Connecticut, the realization has come to me that we all do at some level still deeply value human life.

I shut my eyes, and try to think of how to say this without being unnecessarily offensive while still maintaining pleading honesty.

Why does it bother us that the lives of small children were ended, yet in the same day we as a nation champion the cause of ending even smaller lives?

Some of the children in that school at least had the opportunity to run or hide in a closet. Unborn boys and girls can’t even do that.

We grieve at seeing the destruction of those children, but would think nothing of their destruction if had been just, say, ten years and seven months earlier. But ten years and seven months earlier they were the same person that they are today, just smaller and more helpless.

From the little bit of reading I have done around the Word Press community, I understand that this will probably not be a welcome opinion; and that’s okay. It is not my intent at all to be incindiary or uncaring; I’m just trying to write what I’m thinking as a way to process the grief in my heart.

But ending a life is ending a life. And the knowledge of when life begins and who gives it is unmistakably burnt in our hearts.

I was relieved to hear that the children were told to close their eyes as they walked past such unnecessary carnage.

But we are adults; we must not close our eyes to this other horror in our nation.

The 180 presentation really helped me to understand how I thought about this question. It’s definitely thought-provoking, whether you’re for or against.

Sometimes I just stop

~ Christie ~ Leave a comment

DSC_9691.JPG

I often joke with my husband that I have to live two days in the future if I want to actually be prepared for anything.

My mind, my body, and my life are in constant forward motion.

“We have to finish breakfast so we can do our morning jobs; we have to finish cleaning up so we can play; if we get all this laundry folded we can read before it’s time to make lunch; let’s hurry and finish lunch because if the girls get to their naps on time we can go outside and play before it’s time to start dinner;” and on it goes.

Being prepared and planning are vital. They allow me to enjoy so much more than survival with my children. But every now and then something happens and all the forward motion stops.

A hug.

A simple, spontaneous hug from a little girl.

All of them have done it to me; and I love it. It surprises me every time.

Countless times during the day do I pick up a child for one reason or another. Normally it’s driven by that forward motion, transporting them here and there.

But when they hug me, here and there and plans and schedules fly right out the window.

Today it was Mckayla. When I carried her into her room to lay her down and began singing, she laid her head on my shoulder… and just stayed.

How can something so simple be so wonderful? Everything else fades away and I’m just a mom holding a precious, soft, fuzzy-headed little girl. who’s hugging me.

Roses: someone else can stop and smell you; I will stop for this.

A happy place

~ Christie ~ Leave a comment

blogpics 006This kitchen will never be featured in a magazine. It will never receive enthusiastic compliments from friends and visitors. It’s only future is to observe my less-than-perfect cooking skills and to endure my fledgling attempts to keep it immaculate.

But this little room is a happy place for me. Want to know why?

I get to teach my little girls how to make macaroni and cheese here. (And hopefully insure that they will never try to make a homemade salad dressing out of a raspberry crystal light packet)

What could be more fun than sitting on a floor with a four, three, and two-year old making lunch while the one-year old sleeps?

blogpics 002I wish you could have seen their delight at all they got to do; unwrapping butter, shaking in salt and pepper, adding and stirring the cheese. Hope was cheddar, Gracie was mozzarella, and Sophia was parmesan.

The floor got a little messy; it took longer than if I had just done it myself, but that didn’t seem to matter.  

This little incident really impressed me, obviously enough to get a camera and take some rough home photos.

Why did something so insignificant fill me with this deep, abiding sense of happiness?

I think that true happiness always catches us off guard. How many times have I done things trying to manufacture happiness? But there was none of that on this particular Saturday; just got up, got the girls up, made breakfast, probably played or folded laundry, sent my sweet husband off to the library and hoped that the rest of the day wouldn’t be too difficult.

And for some reason decided to put the pot of noodles down on the floor so the girls could make macaroni and cheese with me. Weeks later, I’m writing about it and still trying to figure it out.

Happiness doesn’t depend on beautiful surroundings, ideal circumstances, or perfectly planned activities. It just happens; I think I would argue it happens when you’re thinking about yourself the least.  

blogpics 010Okay, I could easily make a long list of things that sound more fun than making macaroni and cheese with preschoolers. I’m a big girl; I have interests, desires, dreams; but for right now, teaching them and spending time with them are the steps I find myself taking. And the big picture truth I’m thinking about is that these small steps have right here, right now, brought me to a happy place.  

p.s. Thank you all so much for reading; you’re giving me unexpected encouragement.