Motherhood | Page 10 | Minivans Are Hot

A Party for all Eternity

September 7, 2011 by Kelli

We laid the Bible on the table and she sat silent for a moment, the weight of God’s Word sinking deep.

“God thinks I’m important?” she asked.

We just finished reading from Genesis when Abraham, obeying God’s command, took Isaac to the mountain and lay him on an altar. He raised the knife high, willing to sacrifice his son yet heartbroken to do it.

“Abraham, Stop!”

A lamb.

A thicket and an altar of thanksgiving.

A promise kept.

To me, it was just another story. But the message she got?

The words whispered to her soul?

God thought Isaac important. So important, he was to be spared.

God thinks her important.

So important, she was to be spared.

A Sacrificial Lamb sent to take her place.

“I think I’m ready,” she said, very matter of fact. No doubt, the voice did not waver.

And later that day, nestled on the bed between us…she answered the knock.

Confident.

Joyful.

Beautiful.

She understood. The acceptance holds weight.

Truth.

The dirt…

Made clean.

Daughter.

A Princess.

And when the prayers were finished, she smiled wide.

“Heaven’s having a party for me now, right?” she asked with a grin.

And they are. I imagine it to be a grand feast with birthday cake, Nutella (naturally) and M&M’s – all her favorites.

We had our own party.

At a restaurant on the beach we celebrated over chicken fingers and shrimp.

An altar of thanksgiving.

As we wrapped up and the low lying clouds began to shine with the rays of the sun breaking through their surface, she turned to me. All eyes. Big and bright.

Crystal Blue.

Redemption.

“Mom, is my heaven party over now?” she asked.

“No, baby. They’ll be celebrating you for all eternity.”

“Yet to those who received Him, to those who believed in His name, He gave the right to become children of God.” John 1:12

*A profession of faith in Christ is really important to us and knowing our children have come to that point brings us to our knees. If you are unsure as to why that’s important to us or you have any questions about why we believe what we believe, please feel free to email me. I would love to chat with you. kellistuart00 (at) hotmail (dot) com.

Filed Under: faith, Family, Florida, Kids, Motherhood, Tia Tagged With: faith, God, Salvation

Proof that they’re mine

September 7, 2011 by Kelli

My kids all favor their dad quite a bit. Particularly Sloan and Tia. I always have to laugh, though, when people look at them and say things like, “They look just like their Daddy. But I also see a little bit of your brother in them.”

Huh…that’s funny. Because my brother was in no way involved in the creation of these kids. So, without further ado (and because I don’t have much creativity flowing through me today), I give you proof that my kids also look a tiny bit like their Mama.

Aaaahhh...the classic studio shot of the '80's. It was probably taken at Olan Mills.

Four years old.

5-ish years old

2nd Grade. You're jealous of my shirt...

And just because I know you want to see it:

Oversize Esprit Bag? Check. Units belt? Check. High tops? Check. Side ponytail crimped? Check.

Ladies and gentlemen, I owned 1988. Owned. It.

So what do you think? Can I claim the kids as my own?

Happy Wednesday.

Filed Under: blast from the past, Family, Kids, Motherhood, Random Tagged With: Child of the '80's, Kids, Motherhood, Old pictures

Utah, A Bomb and a Slithering Sea Snake

September 5, 2011 by Kelli

The first week of school is tucked firmly beneath my belt. This is fancy talk for, I survived. So did the kids, by the way. Landon barely. Apparently I neglected to mention to him when we began that school occurs every. single. day. So on day two, as he toddled into the kitchen, his morning Cup ‘a Joe nestled firmly between his teeth (read: sippy cup of juice), he asked me the same thing he asks me every morning.

“Mommy? What we gonna do today?”

“We have school again today.”

Shock.

Horror.

Face crumbles, juice falls to the floor and a great deal of weeping doth commence. “But we alweady did school yestewday!”

Um…yeah. Apparently school every day isn’t his favorite. By day five he started to come around, though he never met the news that school was about to begin with much glee. You can’t please everyone, right?

Not that school was a wash for him. We worked on learning the States last week. We labeled them on a map and each day learned to identify a few more. By the end of the week, Sloan was able to point to and label 30 States. Tia could label about 15 and then needed a few prompts for the rest. Landon can point to about 6 when asked where they are. But all on his own, he can label one State.

Utah.

For some reason Utah. Not Florida. Not Missouri. Utah.

Why?

There is no way for me to answer that question. I don’t know why. All I know is my three year old can point to Utah when shown a blank map. I am so proud.

We are one with the fish

As a reward for a great first week of school, we finished lessons early on Friday and headed to the The Florida Aquarium in Tampa. We got up close and personal with the sting rays, we growled at the sharks and we made silly faces at the alligators. And we topped it all off with some good old fashioned water play.

Grrrr....

As an impromptu history lesson, we walked next door to the American Victory Ship, one of only four operational World War II ships in the country. It was the end of the day and they were preparing to close, but they let us have the run of the ship before shutting everything down. We rang the bells, visited the captain’s quarters and fought mighty battles against the enemy warships and alien droids.

We won each battle with nary an injury. It was truly a victorious ship.

Just before leaving, one of the sailors aboard the ship took us into the Engine Room and gave us a quick history lesson. The ship was built 70 years ago (not 60 hundred as Landon guessed…by hey – he can identify Utah, right?). And the massive vessel was built in only 55 days. Not 25 years as Sloan guessed. But hey…he can point to 30 States on a map, right?

“Can you take us out on a ride in this ship?” Sloan asked the Sailor-man. I just wish my child wasn’t so shy, ya know?

“Well, no. Not right now. We’re dry docked right now. There are a lot of things that need to be done to get a ship out to sea.”

“Oh,” Sloan said, not masking his disappointment at all. This week’s homeschooling theme is “Tact and How To Use It.”

Seeing his crestfallen face, Sailor-man smiled. “You know,” he said. “Every once in awhile we do take this beautiful ship out for a spin on the water. You have your mom find out when we’re going to do that again and make sure you all come out to take a ride with us, okay?”

Sloan grinned and clasped his hands together at his chest. “Okay!” he cried, his eyes dancing. “When we go out, can you shoot off a bomb? Please?” He did use lovely manners making his Mama brim with pride.

“Well,” Sailor-man said, his own eyes twinkling, “Now I’m afraid that’s frowned upon…”

Pause. Silence.

“What do you mean?” Sloan asked.

And we all laughed. Me with the “Oh I’m so embarrassed I will explain this to him later” Mom laugh, and Sailor-man with the “I used to be a little boy and I had a few little boys of my own so I totally understand what’s going on inside his head” laugh. And off we went.

Sunday night brought beautiful, perfect Florida weather. There was an ocean breeze perfect for fishing and we traipsed down to the dock at sunset where Sloan immediately snagged a beautiful, large blue crab. After a bit of dancing and a whole lot of finagling, we got him in the bucket and gave him a pinfish to play with. Lee pulled in a good sized catfish that we all ooed and aahed over until it came time to take him off the hook, then we all scattered and let Lee handle the honors alone.

We’re a brave bunch.

The night ended early, however, when Sloan’s line bent over and he struggled and fought and pulled up a…friggin’ snake. When we figured out that’s what was on his line, Tia sprouted wings and flew 50 feet in less than a second. I danced and yelped while Lee held his arms straight out and yelled “STOP! Do not pull that thing in.” He grabbed the pole and shook it until the long (too long) sea monster finally fell off. And with our hearts hammering in our throats, we packed it in and marched inside, cooking our crab for a little late night snack.

How was your holiday weekend?

Our bedtime snack, courtesy of Sloan.

Filed Under: Family, Florida, funny stuff that happens, Homeschool, Kids, Kids do the darndest things, Landon, Motherhood, Sloan Tagged With: American Victory Ship Tampa, Fishing, Homeschool, kids say the darndest things, Sea Snakes, The Florida Aquarium

The eyes to see

September 5, 2011 by Kelli

Like a petal dancing on the wind, the theme of Grace has been floating across the internet this past year. Everywhere you look, people are seeing it, feeling it and living it.

Grace.

Grace is not a movement. Grace has simply always been. Grace hasn’t changed or altered or moved. Grace has been dancing for us for all of eternity – we just haven’t always seen it. But it isn’t fair for me to speak of you, for perhaps you have seen it. Perhaps only I have missed it.

Grace.

In the past two months, our life has changed drastically. The known has been replaced with the unknown and the comforts of predictability have been stripped away. Filled with fear and doubt, we’ve moved forward with faltering steps, our eyes truly open for the first time.

Grace.

It’s always been there, just waiting for me to see it. A sunrise over the dark waters, bursting forth the light of day. Grace. A palm tree swaying and bending in the stormy winds, a sign of water coming to renew the ground. Grace. A bird singing, a lizard racing and the pealed laughter of children with eyes wide to Grace. All these things were here.

And I can finally see.

Ann’s book opened my eyes. Her blog moves my heart. And I looked, not only in nature, but at man – God’s most glorious creation. Grace.

I sat on the plane last week, my head and my ears tight. The cabin pressure left me with a headache and I could never quite get my ears cleared. As we descended, the man across the aisle leaned over. “Would you like a piece of gum?” he asked, a kind and understanding smile on his face. I accepted gratefully.

Grace.

Standing up to deplane, I watched the man in front of me help an elderly woman with her bag. He pulled it down and as she reached for it, he shook his head. “I’ll get it off the plane for you, ma’am,” he said.

Grace.

Life is full of Grace…when you’re watching for it. And in the looking, another miracle takes place. Life slows down. As a mother, this is the greatest miracle of all. Because the passing of time takes with it the sweetness of youth. Newborn cries turn into toddler giggles turn into the lengthening of limbs and deepening sounds of a growing man’s voice. And it all happens in a blink.

But when you’re looking for Grace, the moments last a little longer. The sticky arms flung around your neck hold on tighter. The giggles ring a little louder. The wet kisses are a little sweeter. Life is grander.

Grace.

How are you seeing Grace these days?

Filed Under: books, faith, Family, Florida, Kids, Life, Motherhood Tagged With: All's Grace, Ann Voskamp, faith, Life, Love

No Bimbo’s for me, thank you

September 1, 2011 by Kelli

We don’t watch a lot of television these days. There isn’t time for it and, honestly, there is very little reason to. When we get into our house we won’t even hook cable up and I don’t think anyone will miss it.

In the mornings, the kids enjoy Animal Planet. Steve the Crocodile Hunter makes us all laugh…and cringe a little. In the evenings, every once in awhile, we turn on re-runs of Extreme Makeover: Home Edition. It makes us all cry. Tonight, as the show ended, the network began airing a preview of the next show to air.

Sweet Home Alabama.

Not the adorable Resse Witherspoon movie. No, no. This was yet another ridiculous time suck of a reality show about a group of over bleached, over tanned, under dressed girls from (I can only assume) Alabama. I immediately changed the channel. Little House on the Prairie – the only insanely pure show still played on television, although sadly the commercials are so horrible that I had to keep changing the channel to the Catholic Reading Hour every time the show took a break.

Ha!

“Mom, why can’t we watch that?” Sloan asked as I muttered under my breath.

“Because there’s no reason to watch a show about a bunch of bimbo’s,” I replied. “I’m not raising a bimbo. I’m raising a strong, confident girl who doesn’t think that life revolves around boys and spray tans.”

And I mean it.

This is not meant to offend, but here’s the thing. I loathe reality TV. Loathe it. *hear me snarl* Outside of Extreme Makeover: Home Edition (which even the excess of that show gets on my nerves after awhile…because I am, apparently, a robot), I can’t stand a single reality show. They make me bonkers. Nicole said it a couple of weeks ago and I will reiterate the same point – everything that’s wrong with our society is showcased in reality TV. Everything. And we put it on display for the whole world to see.

Is it any wonder America has lost so much respect in the world?

Jersey Shore. Real Housewives of Such and Such (AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH – NOT REAL NOT REAL NOT REAL). Sweet Home Alabama. Russian Dolls (are you kidding me?). Big Brother. The Bachelor and it’s spawn The Bachelorette. I know, I may have just broken some hearts. Unfortunately, this list of absurdity could go on and on. And on. And ooooooooonnnnnnn.

Selfishness, greed, hatred, lust, gluttony, deceit, anger, malice, jealousy, guilt and plain old stupidity – all of these highlighted for entertainment’s sake. And when I see a clip of a bleach blonde girl Valley Girl chatting into the camera I want to throw a shoe through the TV then take my daughter out and teach her how to be a real REAL woman. I want to teach her to play sports and love people and respect herself and care for the hurting. I want to tell her that life is more than boys and clothes and fame and notoriety.

I want my boys to know that what makes a woman beautiful is not the length of her skirt but the love she has and shows for others. I want my boys to respect women more than the men on those shows respect them. I want my daughter to respect herself more than those women respect themselves.

I have to check myself when I begin to rant on these shows. Because the fact of the matter is this: I can disconnect cable and make sure my children are never subjected to the horror that is reality TV, but unless I’m modeling what it means to be a woman of grace, peace, love and maturity to my daughter, she will never know it.

If Lee doesn’t model to the boys what it means to look like, act like and behave like a real man then they won’t know. If he isn’t showing them how to respect women and how to love a wife, they won’t know. It doesn’t matter what’s on TV – our kids have to see it modeled from us first and foremost. That’s the real challenge.

That and making sure that none of that smut gets into our home.

*steps meekly off soap box and slides it back under the bed*

Ahem…

Filed Under: Family, Kids, Lee, Life, Motherhood, the boob tube Tagged With: kids and tv, reality tv, television

First Day of School: Homeschool Edition

August 30, 2011 by Kelli

Our beachside elementary school officially opened its doors yesterday. Children with a deep need for routine made beginning a week earlier than planned a necessity. And so, with a great deal of excitement mingled with even greater nervous energy, we began our first day of school.

I got out of bed, my feet hitting the cold tile floor and my stomach flipped upside down. Getting dressed, I seriously entertained the idea of packing the kids up and driving to Tampa to enroll them in school. I looked in the mirror at the wide, scared eyes staring back. What if I fail? What if I irrevocably screw them up for life? What if damage our relationship with one another? What if…

And then I stopped. Took a deep breath. Prayed.

What if this is the best thing that ever happened to our family? What if I choose to rest in the now and what has clearly been laid out before us? What if it’s fun?!

And that was it. I walked out of the bathroom and down the hall and began an adventure I never thought I’d take. And dare I say…we had fun.

Preapring to begin our day.

Walking to school. Really, we just made a huge circle and came back home.

There's something for everyone to do. Although my guess is Landon asked me roughly 462 times if he could please play the Ds.

: The letter ‘F’ was on the docket for the first day.

: Snack time was combined with recess.

: Recess was at the park.

: Picnic lunch on the floor in a pillow fort.

: Landon gets hold of the camera while I’m not looking and takes 56 pictures of my backside.

: Math, Geography, History and Literature are covered.

: We covered Russian as well.

: At the end of the day, we made our walk back home.

Whew…

Today we get to do it all over again.

I think I’m excited.

Filed Under: Homeschool, Kids, Life, Motherhood Tagged With: education, First Day of School, Homeschool, Kids

The Homeschool Post

August 11, 2011 by Kelli

Forgive the lame photos. My good camera is at the spa getting a facelift.

I never planned to be a homeschooler. It was never something I desired to do. Never. In fact, I’m pretty sure my exact words in the past were, “There’s no way in H@#! I would ever do that.”

Classy.

But something happened earlier this year and a transformation began inside my heart.

Sometime after the New Year, Sloan began struggling in school. It wasn’t a major struggle. He was getting by just fine, but he wasn’t thriving. Part of that was my fault. Life was just so overscheduled. We had something almost every evening of every week – all good things, but it left my kids bouncing in the wake of life and they were tired.

So we started cutting things out. Good things. And I hated it. All the while, I shipped my worn out child off to school for eight hours a day despite his daily pleas to let him stay home “just this once.”

I’ve said it before but it bears repeating. I don’t have major issues with the public school system. I have nothing but respect for the men and women who choose to teach our children. Some are better than others, to be sure and the system is far from perfect. But it deserves respect and it has that from me. I wasn’t necessarily upset with the quality of education my son was receiving so much as the time it seemed to take to get it. I feel like one of the biggest flaws in our school system (and this applies to both public and private schools, incidentally) is the amount of time we are keeping our children in the school building.

Sloan got on the bus at 8:00 every morning and he got off at 3:30. This left very little evening time for us as a family. It also left him tired and unwilling to concentrate on any kind of homework. He never wanted to sit and read a book and I didn’t blame him. If I were forced to sit and listen for roughly 30 hours per week I wouldn’t want to read a book either. That’s a lot of time for our little guys to be away.

This combined with a lot of prayer led me to seriously begin considering homeschooling. I entertained that idea alongside the idea of checking myself into the loony bin, because I felt sincerely crazy. Homeschooling? Really?

Yes. Really.

Two kids, two sets of study guides, double the crazy?

I mulled all these things over by myself for awhile, then I went to my husband. I was positive that he would have his head squarely placed on his shoulders and would practically and reasonably talk me out of this silly little notion.

“I think you should look into it,” he said. And then I passed out.

When I came to, he continued. “Obviously the Lord is working something out in your heart because I’ve never heard you talk like this before, so I really think this is something we need to research and pursue.” So being the dutiful wife that I am (wink, wink) I took his advice and began talking to every single homeschooling friend I have. I asked them all for the exact same information:

– Give me every reason I should do this and…

-Give me every single reason I should not.

Not surprisingly, the reasons I should far outnumbered the reasons I shouldn’t, and the reasons I shouldn’t were mostly selfish in nature. But I still wasn’t convinced, so I researched and prayed and waffled and wavered and questioned and finally decided that homeschooling was something I needed to do. Not for me, but for them. (When I say them, I’m referring to the children…you already knew that, didn’t you?)

Ultimately, I knew that I needed to get my clutches into my kids and show them what a joy learning can be. Even if I only do it one year, I want the year to count. I want them to know that I was willing to give up everything for them so that they could see the magic of opening a book.

Now I’m not sure I can show the the magic in math. Because math is not magical. It’s just numbers. Lame.

Right after I made the decision to homeschool, we found out we were moving and the timing just felt right. It also felt horrible. How would I do this without a local network of support? HOW?!

I’ll tell you how. Yesterday, as I watched Landon at swimming lessons, one of the other moms walked up to me. “Do you homeschool?” she asked. I was taken aback, because why would she ask that? What a random question? Was I putting off some kind of homeschool vibe? It must have been the denim jumper I was wearing…the one with the apple and ruler appliques on the front.

I kid.

“Yes,” I answered. “This is my first year.”

“Oh you’ll love it,” she said with a smile. “I’ve been homeschooling for years. What curriculum are you using?”

“Sonlight,” I replied.

“Wonderful!” she cried. “That’s what we use. Let me know if you have any questions about it.”

OMG - So many pages. I feel like I'm decoding the key to a secret world...

Is it coincidence that she randomly struck up a homeschooling conversation? Maybe…but I doubt it. Because today our curriculum arrived in the mail and I am thoroughly and completely overwhelmed by it all. Thankfully, I have a new friend who will be able to show me the ropes. And for me, that was one more confirmation that we are in the right place, doing the right thing.

Now if you will excuse me, I am going to go churn my own butter while simultaneously working on my needlepoint and baking homemade bread.

I kid. I’m not going to do any of those things. I’m going to finish my wine cooler and go to bed.

So this is the part where you join in, my bloggy friends. Would you ever homeschool your children (or are you currently)? Give me the best and worst. I want to be prepared.

Filed Under: faith, Family, Kids, Motherhood, School Tagged With: Homeschooling, Kids, Motherhood, School, Sonlight curriculum

Dispelling the myth

July 21, 2011 by Kelli

On our drive from St. Louis to Arkansas yesterday (where we are staying with family for a week), we had the privilege of stopping in Branson for swimming and hot dogs with a sweet college friend. It was the perfect midday break in our drive and gave all of us a chance to stretch our legs a bit.

While the kids swam, Rachel and I discussed all things mommy and blogging. She said something that I hadn’t necessarily thought through before. “I think blogging can sometimes give Moms a false picture of motherhood,” she said, her voice all sugary. Seriously, you’ll be hard pressed to meet anyone sweeter. “We only get to see a small glimpse of someone’s life online and from that we make assumptions.”

How right she is. Blogging can easily set us Moms up for frustration. This Mom plans a rocking birthday party, that Mom does amazing crafts with her kids, the Mom over there manages to work full time from home and the Mom in that corner is teaching her kids Latin.

I’m exhausted.

As I’ve thought about it, I’ve wondered what kind of glimpse I am giving people into my life. Because I share a lot here – but I don’t share everything. Some of life isn’t meant to be shared. As the kids get older, I will share less about them because really, how many of us would have died a horrible death if we knew our mothers were broadcasting our every awkward tween move for all the world to read?!

*shudder*

I’m not a perfect mother. I don’t cook organic – heck, I don’t really cook much at all. I’m what you could call a “thrower together.” I throw together meals, often beginning them around 5:00. It’s kind of pathetic. I am, however, a good baker and I’m passing that love on to my children. I consider that a score because how awesome that my daughter will know how to make a killer scone when she’s fully grown?

I hereby apologize to my future grandchildren for the innumerable scones and petit fors they will likely consume instead of meat and potatoes.

I don’t throw killer birthday parties, but I throw decent ones. I’m all about simple. Make it look elaborate, but keep it simple. That’s how I roll.

I don’t read to my kids every day. And my kids don’t love to read. I’m hoping to change that this year. It has been a failure on my part. My kids just don’t love the written word and I hope to show them the magic of a good book. But it will take work and, dare I say, training. Something I don’t excel at.

I don’t shower every day, nor to I wear make up most days. I look better with make up and I smell better when I shower, but those things take time and effort that I simply don’t have many days. I do, however, wash my face two or three times a day and apply my magic lotions. Because, as I’ve said, I’m a face product addict.

I don’t always enjoy having my kids friends over and I get increasingly annoyed when I feel my kids are encroaching upon my personal space. I am selfish and easily frustrated and have been known to raise my voice, none of which make me in the least bit proud.

I am terrified of homeschooling my kids, but I feel like it’s something I need to do. I don’t do it because I think I can teach them better than someone else. I don’t do it because I have some kind of beef with the public schools. The opposite, in fact. I think that our schools and teachers deserve much more respect and support than they’re given, especially from the Christian community. Is the public school system flawed? Yes. Without a doubt. Is it an evil place to send our children? No. Without question.

I am homeschooling my children this year because the Lord has made it obvious that’s what I’m supposed to do. I do so with plenty of nerves, but also a bit of excitement. I won’t be perfect at it. I might even be really bad at it. But I won’t know unless I try. So I’m trying. And part of the reason I feel I need to try is linked to what I mentioned above. My kids don’t love to learn. And I want to teach them how exciting learning can be. Only I can do that.

I’m not a perfect mother and this isn’t a perfect blog. I don’t promote it as much as I could and I don’t work as hard on it as maybe I should. But I love this little space that I’ve created. I want it to be a fun place, both for me and for you. I want you to be encouraged as you read here, not the opposite.

And now I will take my greasy, non-showered, non make-upped face back to my in-laws house where I left my children in their care so I could ~~escape for a little while~~ get a little work done.

Sometimes being not perfect has benefits, she says as she sips her Iced Chai while listening to Frank Sinatra croon in the background.

Filed Under: Blogging, Motherhood Tagged With: blogging myths, imperfection, Motherhood

Eight

July 10, 2011 by Kelli

“Mom.” Hot breath on my cheek stirs me from the deepest of sleep. “I have a stomach ache. Can I sleep with you?”

I mumble something incoherent that he and I both interpret as a yes and he burrows under the covers. His hair smells clean, freshly washed just before bed. I’m poised to drift back to dreamland, but for a conscious moment, I relish him close.

He sucks in a deep breath. It’s sharp. Pain.

“Are you okay?” I ask, more awake now. He clutches his side and pants. It’s probably an air bubble, but in my sleepy haze I immediately assume appendicitis and I push on the lower right side of his abdomen. “Does that hurt?”

“Ow! Yes, that hurts!”

“Oh…sorry.”

In the next moment, he is wrapped around me. Knees and elbows swathed in a narrow frame. His nose is in my neck, his arm flung across my waist. He’s hot and I’m immediately uncomfortable. I’m so tired and my first thought is to push him off on his father who is snoring on the other side of the bed.

But then I stop. His breathing slows and falls into a quiet rhythm. In, out. In, out.

It’s just as it was back when he used to fit a little more snuggly in my arms. Back when I couldn’t wear his flip flops and his hands weren’t nearly as big as mine. Back when his hair was a white blonde fuzz on top of his round head. And instead of pushing him away, my arms engulf him and squeeze tight.

Because I miss back then. I miss it.

But for a few short hours, I got to relive those moments. I didn’t sleep much…or at all. Somehow, though, sleep didn’t matter, just as it didn’t matter back then. Because the moments fade so fast. When morning light pierced through the darkness, he finally stirred and unwound his spindly body. He looked up at me, all blue eyes and freckles. And eight years passed me by in an instant.

“Hey Mom,” he said with a sleepy grin. “Can I have some Nutella for my birthday breakfast?” And as he dashed off to conquer the day, I remained behind. Tired and teary. Grateful for a night of little sleep and thankful for those brief, still moments when he snuggled close and held tight. Those moments will soon be no more.

Happy Birthday, Sloan.

Filed Under: Family, Kids, Life, Motherhood, Sloan Tagged With: children, Love, Motherhood

It’s Not You, It’s Me

July 7, 2011 by Kelli

The kiss of death for any relationship. Can I see a show of hands, ladies? How many of you actually used this cliche line when breaking a poor boy’s heart. Relentless, we ladies are. But I’m not here to talk about relationships. I snagged my man a long time ago and have never once even considered breaking things off. I know a good catch when I find one and me? I got a good catch.

I’m talking about parenting. You know…’cause I’m a Mom Blog (Capital ‘M’ Capital ‘B’). About 6 weeks ago I sat down with a friend to discuss the ins and outs of homeschooling. Have I mentioned we’re considering that for next year? I haven’t? Ah…that’s another post for another day. But, yes, we are. I began considering it before we knew we were going to move and now I’m considering it because we’re going to move. I’ll explain more later.

As I soaked in this veteran homeschool mom’s wisdom (her oldest just graduated high school) I relayed to her my fears. My biggest fear was what if I can’t do it? What if it ruins my relationship with my child to be with him all day long? What if a wall of bitterness comes between us? What if I fail?

I didn’t like her answer. I mean, I did. But I didn’t. *sigh* I’m not making much sense, am I?

“I’ve found,” she said in her sweet and gentle way, “that whenever I am having personality conflicts with one of my kids, it’s usually my heart issue that needs to be dealt with.”

BAM! Right to the gut. You mean I have to take responsibility for my own actions? Parenting doesn’t give me a free BecauseISaidSo pass?! No body mentioned this to me when I left the hospital with my bundles of joy, by the way. There was no sign on the way out that read, “WARNING: Parenting is hard work and more than likely when you lose your patience it will be your fault and not the child’s.”

But the thing is, I know she’s right. I’ve known that a long time, but I haven’t really sat and simmered with that understanding. When I lose my temper with my kids, 9 times out of 10 the problem is mine. In the interest of full disclosure, I’ll give you an example.

Yesterday I took the kids on a bit of a Tour de St. Louis. We hit up the City Garden, the St. Louis Science Center and the Loop all in the span of about six hours. And it required a lot of in and out of the (smokin’ hot) minivan. I don’t know about your kids, but something happens to mine when they step inside a van. Whatever it is is definately not hot. The second they sit in their seats, it’s starts.

“Mom! Landon’s copying me!”

“Mom, Sloan called me a dodo-head!”

“Mom! Tia stuck her tongue out at me!”

“Mom! I’m being bullied!”

And on and on it goes until I’m blue in the face. My grandmother, when her kids were making her crazy like this, used to get in their faces and say, “My name’s not Mom anymore. It’s horses butt and you’re not allowed to say that so you can’t call me anymore.” Can I tell you how tempted I’ve been to pull that line out of my back pocket? I think her sister had a little bit of a spicer version of that line that she used on her kids…

So, riding in the car? Not so fun. Sloan tends to take the brunt of the pestering because he gives the biggest reaction. Lee and I are constantly telling him to ignore them and let us be the parents. He has a tendency to…ahem…step in and take matters into his own hands. This usually winds up with him in trouble. He’s slowly learning that lesson.

So yesterday we spent some time driving and by the third time in the van everyone was a little frayed. We had been having a lot of fun and everyone had behaved marvelously, until they got in the van and it started immediately.

And I snapped. I turned into that mom. The one that looks all wild and huffy. I pulled over on the side of the road and let loose – bad mommy style. As I drove down the street again, oppression set into my chest. I glanced in the rearview mirror at my kids faces. They were quiet, Sloan had tears in his eyes and I felt terrible.

It wasn’t them. It was me. I was tired and a little fried from a long morning. Tia and Landon had been merciless in their pestering of Sloan and he had snapped, but he was tired too. And he’s only 7. I’m old enough to supposedly know how to control myself. So I pulled the car over again. I asked them to forgive me for losing my temper and hugs went around to all.

Then we sang “Kumbaya.” It was beautiful.

When I lose my patience with my kids, it’s my fault. Because the kids are just acting like…kids. Generally I lose my patience when I haven’t taken the time to really deal with an issue. I brush it aside until it escalates out of control then I look at the kids like it’s their fault. But if I would just take the time to deal with things instantly, we wouldn’t have the escalation. All it requires on my part is a little bit of time, energy and focus. Lazy parenting is not allowed.

It’s not them…it’s me. Can anyone else relate to this?

Filed Under: Family, Motherhood Tagged With: Motherhood, Patience, St. Louis