This Is Why We Do Hard Things

I'm going to let the pictures tell this story...

 (Imagine Sophia singing her own theme music here.)

(Looking down while whispering "Almost there.")

"I'm Queen of the world!  I'm Queen of the world!!!!" 

 

Doing it for a second time!

After seeing Sophia, Sammy decided to climb his own mountain...

...and did it!

So did Michael.

Then they climbed one together.

This is why we do hard things.  This is why we don't give up.  This is why we keep going even when there's a risk of falling.  This is why we leap even when we aren't sure of our footing.  It's so that at the end of all the uncertainty & fear, when we've finally made it to the top, we can celebrate and shout at the top of our lungs like Sophia did, "I'm Queen of the WORLD!"  It's so we can feel alive!  It's so we can feel the rush of excitement that only comes from moments like when we finally learn how to ride that bike or complete a piroutte, moments that are fewer and farther between as we grow older.  This is one reason I'm so grateful for children.  These pictures are unedited, pure, victorious joy.  And that joy is contagious.  It's the reason why after Sophia climbed her mountain, Sammy & Michael climbed theirs.  And it's why I keep climbing every day too.

Love, Eva

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

A Positive Self-Image Is Not Just For Girls

"You don't like any pictures you take of yourself," my little six year-old son said to me.  We were on the bumpy bus ride home after spending two hours running through fields, catching bugs, and pretending to be part of the local wildlife at the Ogden Nature Center.  After helping keep track of 30 curious 1st graders I thought the drive home would be the easy part of the trip.  I was wrong.  

After several attempts to take a portrait of the two of us, my heart sank at hearing my son's observation.  "You don't like any pictures you take of yourself."

 

"It's not you.  It's me," I said.  Cringe.  Did I really just say that?

"You look great in all the pictures," I continued.  But see, first I didn't know I had it zoomed in so close.  And then my hair looked messed up in this one."  While that might be true, it didn't account for the 15 others where the angle of my face (to me) made my cheeks look even bigger or my chin even more pointy, my jawline too angular...

I saw his little pout.  Ironically, I was ruining this trip by trying to capture a keep sake of how great it had been, which even in mind I recognized as "All Or Nothing Thinking" AGAIN...

Fast forward to a week later, when after trimming myself some bangs I attempted to taking another self-pic.  I guess I didn't realize how many clicks had gone by and photos I'd checked and deleted.

"You don't like any pictures you take of yourself."  Again, I felt my heart hitting the floor of my stomach.

"It's not that I don't like them," I white-lied, "It's that I just want to look my best, and that's not my best smile."  What stupid lesson was I teaching?  And why?  Just to try to "keep up with the Joneses" of women who have lost all the baby weight and still look like they are in high school?  I've been through this with myself already!

Looking at myself in that digital preview screen I saw a mother that was teaching her son to expect way too much of himself and to not settle for less than his own best version of perfect.  That was not what I wanted.

"I'll take your picture, Mommy."

"OK."

I handed him my camera and smiled, knowing the lighting from his angle wasn't very bright and that I wasn't even facing the right way.  But I smiled big and brightly for my little boy.

A hug and a thank you later he said  "Your welcome, Mom.  Now can we go play scooters?"

It isn't enough to just not have beauty magazines on display in your home or be careful with the media you let in.  It isn't enough to just tell your daughters they are beautiful regardless of their coloring or size.  Our boys need to hear it too.  It isn't enough to just not talk about how you feel fat or want to lose a couple pounds when you around the kids.  We need to be examples.  We need to feel happy and recognize our beauty. We need to watch our actions.  We need to smile big, laugh hard and enjoy and capture the moments for what they are, not because of how good we look in a picture.
Most of all we need to remember we are ALWAYS teaching something because our little ones are ALWAYS watching.

I love these unedited pictures and thanks, Michael, for that last one.

Love, Eva