Mommy Milestones

Last week, after much asking and asking from puppy-dog eyed children, I agreed on having a family sleepover in our living room.  It had already been a very busy week and day, so the late-night fun was conditional on their having good behavior as we ran to a few stores to pick up some snacks and a movie.  It sounded so simple, so fun, but considering how exhausted we all were even I knew I was probably asking for too much.

 As we drove, the tiredness of the week caught up with them (and me) and soon the bickering ensued.  I don't remember what it was about.  I do remember fighting the urge to yell like crazy.  I mean, I never actually want to yell but I do want them to listen to me and for the fighting to stop, and screaming that at them for some strange reason sounds like a good idea sometimes.  But of course it's not- it's exhausting!  It's sad!  And I never have energy after that and it's terrible for them.  I made a threat about losing the sleepover because if they were this cranky, I didn't want them to be even more cranky the next day.  But inside, I wanted so badly for that sleepover to happen!  I needed some fun family time!  I knew I just couldn't flip out...  

 I won't give you the complete play by play of having to stop for gas in the heat, run through two stores with WAY too many toys and candies by the checkouts, and a minor showdown between me and a toddler over defacing a food display, but let's just say we were ready to be home.  As they (and I) became annoyed with each other yet again as we hit every red light, I realized with all of our running around in the afternoon they had never had dinner.  Whoops.   Maybe that had something to do with the stress we were ALL feeling.  I started to empathize and see things from their tired, hungry point of view.  Then I heard them tickling each other and even that was bothering me for some reason...probably the low blood sugar.  As I felt the urge to let off a LOT of steam coming over me again, I made a choice.  Instead of rationalizing an explosion, I pulled over.  I pulled that hot, cranky van over into a parking lot and parked.  I took a few deep breaths.  I explained how when they are rough-housing it distracts me, it's not safe and makes it hard for me to drive.  Those precious kids, my most valuable loves, apologized and said they understood.  That was it.  No explosion.  Just an explanation and then moving on.  Then we went home and had a sleepover!

 And I'm so glad things turned out that way, because if I had given in to the "I'm the mom and that's why!" beast, I would have missed out on this adorable bed Sophia put together for me.

And I wouldn't have heard Sophia say "Mom?  Can I read you a story?"  This sweet little one who sometimes doesn't think she is a good reader, when she is the grandest storyteller I've ever met.

 I would have missed her beautiful, wild, curls dangling in the light of her Flashlight Friend.

And her cute little finger trying to keep her place in the dim light.

 We all wouldn't have giggled at Frog and Toad's silliness.

 I would have missed seeing her adorable nose as she looked down to read, 

her vibrant smile,

 and the precious way she holds her tender chin in her palm.

 We wouldn't have all laughed at how it looked like her unicorn was trying to read too.

Her innocence and curls touch my heart.  The child-like wonder of my kids heals my soul.

 I need moments like this.

They cleanse me.  Recharge me.  They help me discover new depths and layers to myself.

 They remind me of why I do what I do, and keep trying even when I don't do a good job.  And sometimes, I don't.  But when I can slow time down and live in the moment, it's rich with beauty.  When I can get closer to what's really happening and simultaneously step back and look at the big picture, I am real.  I am honest with my kids.  I am understanding.  I am amazing!  I am a powerful force for good.  I am a mother and I am proud of who I am and who my kids are.

 And when we do take that higher road in parenting, when we are selfless and put what's important first, it's so important we recognize that.  We need to feel proud of ourselves.  We don't have cheerleaders.  We don't get report cards.  There is no paycheck.  But it's not needed when these beautiful, organic moments are ours to cradle.  These Mommy Milestones make everything worth it, because they remind us WE are all still growing.  They show WE are learning.  That we are also getting our training wheels off, tying our shoes and starting to master this experience of Motherhood.  And we don't only love our kids in that instant for their accomplishments and progress, we love ourselves too.  And that achievement helps everyone.  Love, Eva

So Many Kinds of Beautiful...What I Hope I Can Teach My Daughter (And Remember Myself)

My biggest fear of moving back to Utah is the vanity that's there and getting sucked back into that vain mentality.  Don't get me wrong.  I  love a lot of things about Utah.  The mountains.  The family and friends I have there.  But I've definitely not missed all the liposuction and breast enhancement billboards that saturate the valley (Boise doesn't have any of those.)  I don't look forward to explaining to my daughter that some people spend 1000's of dollars on trying to change the way they look, not because of a valid health concern or reconstructive surgery, but because they want to look better in a swimsuit.

Then I remembered a moment I had the other day in my garden.  I was looking at these little flowers and thought...

What if those little purple flowers, that I LOVE, wished they looked like a rose?  That would make me sad.  I love those little beautiful purple flowers.  They are beautiful just the way they are.  This rose is beautiful just the way it is too.  I didn't edit the colors at all because I wanted to keep its natural beauty.  Neither flower is better than the other.  They are both beautiful to me, just different. 

Sometimes different flowers have the same colors.  There are my little purple flowers and these...To me neither is better.  Both are beautiful.

Or sometimes the same flowers are portrayed slightly differently in art.  People might individually have preferences over landscape or portrait formatting, but they are both still beautiful.  A running joke my husband and I have is how my hair should look.  I regularly ask him his preference on length and color and he always says he doesn't care because it doesn't make a difference to him.  This has made me CRAZY, but now I get it.  To him long or short, darker or lighter, whatever!  It's still beautiful.

My son Michael came to watch me editing.  I liked some of these photos cropped off-center.

Or not showing their edges.

He liked them centered and uncropped.  Again, more kinds of beautiful.

Then he saw these editing tools and REALLY thought the flowers looked beautiful! LOL

I suppose you could say editing these photos is similar to the physical editing we do with plastic surgery.  But it's not.  This is free and changed with a click, maybe equal to dying ones hair.  Not equal to going into debt or taking on a part-time job to cover the 1000's of dollars of monthly payments of a tummy tuck or enhancement job.

 I realize some people do it for confidence, and it's not my place to judge.

I would have them consider though, there are so many kinds of beautiful...

Some people want to look like everyone else because they think looking like everyone else is better.  

But God already made you just the way he wanted.  He wanted us to all look different because we ARE different.  The difference is in the details of our character and soul and that's reflected through our eyes, smile and love.

Some of us are just starting to bloom.

Others are still waiting to.  Actually, I think parts of all of us still have yet to bloom.  That is beautiful too.

Some of us have personalities that like to be easily visible, high and right in people's line of vision.

Others would prefer to lay low, slightly hidden, but they are still beautiful too.

Some might say there's nothing spectacular about these planter boxes filled with tulips and pansies but I thought they were worth taking pictures and writing about.  I thought they were beautiful.

And they are obviously bringing a lot of joy to my daughter too.  And I hope I can teach her to never want to change this or enhance that, because that would mean that she is just her body.  And she is so much more than her body.  Her body is simply the vessel for her creativity, compassion, spontaneity, and crazy-happiness.  Why should she want to look like everyone else when she isn't everyone else?  She is beautiful just the way God and I made her.

As my favorite classic mormonad says "Be your own kind of beautiful."  This flower is unedited.  Yes, it is not perfect.  It is not as glamour-shopped as some photos of flowers are in calendars and framed art.  But it is still a lovely, stunning creation of God, and it is beautiful.  Just like you.

 'Till Tomorrow!  Luv, Eva

Who's On My Trampoline? or Jumping Out Of Depression...

Today was rougher than usual.  Just trying to write that much, I misspelled and had to retype three words. Sigh.

Maybe it's because I was up past 1:30 a.m. last night and I'm up regularly with my 2 year-old throughout the night.  Maybe it's the stress that comes with am unemployed spouse.  Maybe it's the usual food, self-image issues because I'm not in the shape I want to be in yet.  And then there are the other things that weigh me down a little all the time, my Dad's illness, living faraway from family, our financial debt from student loans, medical bills, etc., my daughter's Oppositional Defiant Disorder & ADHD (which my other two might as well have since they follow her every lead) and the depression I'm always on guard against.

My goal was to have a fun, laid back movie night and sleepover in the living room with the kids.  Maybe we would paint our nails and pop some popcorn too.  Instead I was being the maniac, pick-up-toys-Nazi that wouldn't join the pillow fight.  My eyes burned.  My tummy was full and unhappy from our pizza and ice cream.  Is my grouchiness because I'm burned out or because I've finally grown up and turned into a boring, rather-go-to-bed-at-9-while-wearing-earplugs grownup?  I did just turn 30...

But thankfully, there was a little bounce back.  What I mean was there were some moments when I was low or "depressed."  But then, like when you depress the part of a trampoline you bounce down into, I bounced back up.  I felt a little light.  Other people helped me fly even higher.  A call from my mom (though she may not know it because I vented and complained during most of the conversation) helped cheer me up.  Talking to my hubby helped too.  Hearing my daughter say "I love you" while she picked up some toys literally relaxed my shoulders at least an inch.

My son came up to me just to give me a hug. 

Of course in between each of these moments were other ups and downs too, but at least there were some ups between every couple downs.  Talking to friends on Facebook also gave me a little extra bounce.  And then I was "up" again, enjoying the loud laughter, craziness, requests for thirds on ice cream and the view of princess pillows and Batman blankets all over the living room.

I laughed out loud when my daughter told me she was going to wear the pink and purple beaded necklace we made today to college to she can remember me every day.  And I grinned when I was asked to babysit her troll, during which the only item I was given to take care of it was a hairbrush.  Then I grinned even more when my son eagerly offered to babysit the troll doll.

I had a counselor that called Depression a temporary state or in other words, "depressing."  He said just like "sometimes you're running or eating or sleeping or sometimes you have really staticky hair (OK. He didn't sat that last part.  That was me, but with this picture I couldn't resist.)  And sometimes we are depressing.  It's temporary.  We don't need to get caught up in labels and think we will always be this way or that it's part of what defines us."

Hearing that gave me so much freedom.  Before I always thought I was stuck in this depressed state unless I distracted myself from it.  Now I feel the opposite.  There are distractions in life that get us depressed and get us stuck in that spot.  But we CAN bounce back.  Just ask yourself "Who's on my trampoline?  What's on my trampoline?"  Surround yourself with happy, supportive people.  Invite God and Jesus into your life.  They want to be there and lift you up.  Throw off the crap that's getting in the way!  Would YOU want crap on YOUR trampoline?  Seriously?!  No!  It would bounce everywhere, hit everyone else, and you'd step in it.

Above all, be willing to fly back up again.  The opposite of being depressed is being uplifted and that feeling is real and light and weightless.  It's like your burdens aren't even there.  And feeling this way sometimes, often enough to give our emotional muscles a break, is totally possible.  I know because I have moments like this myself, without escaping through alcohol or any other substance.

It's been a few hours since my Wild Things calmed down.  One is asleep and The Care Bears movie is almost over so soon the other two will be out too (after the troll doll is tucked in and read to.)  There are so many ups and downs everyday.  The kids are so tired now they've hit the "weepy hours" and they are looking like I did a circa my evening meltdown.  But what goes down, must come up.

'Till Tomorrow!  Luv, Eva

P.S. Since writing this, today's manic wind has completely destroyed the net around our trampoline.  Oh, the life metaphors for trampolines could go on and on...

In 50 years...

Tonight I am burning 26 CDs with pictures I took from a 50th Wedding Anniversary- it's going to take a while.  So I'm sitting here, thinking about where I will be and what I will be up to in 50 years, which is something I've never done before but do want to do more often....

In 50 years it will not matter if today was a "fat day" or if I was (barely) in the 150's.  In fact, it wouldn't even matter if I was in the 250's or 350's.

In 50 years it will matter to me that I took time to blow bubbles with Sammy today, in our comfy clothes in the sleepy morning.  I will be glad that I even poured our dish soap into his little container after he wasted all of his while trying to dump it on the cat. LOL Sorry Casey!

In 50 years it will not matter that my van is in desperate need of a complete makeover...that will never happen... :)

In 50 years I will be able to smile and remember the time we spent as a family, planting flower seeds in little plastic cups in our kitchen, when we talked about how charity is like a seed and if we nourish that seed we can grow friendships.  I will remember Sophia's sad face as she explained how no one wants to be her friend, and how I said to keep trying, and cheered her on.  And she said she would.

 

 In 50 years it will not matter that my hair was not as stylish as I'd like it to be.  But it will matter that I took the time to help the kids get ready for crazy-hair day at school, and I enjoyed every bit of it!

And in 50 years I will still treasure this piece of paper my little Michael rushed to make me after he learned that my foot hurt.  As he gave it to me he said, "It's shaped like a diamond, because you love diamonds." :)

My daily life right now may not appear like much to most people.  There are low moments where (I'm ashamed to say) it doesn't appear like a whole lot to me.  But looking back at my life from 50 years from now, it looks like heaven on earth...