The Road Not Taken

My very first job was working for Dr. Harry Davis D.D.S.  Dr. Davis seemed old to me in 1986 and just grew more ancient until his passing last year. He was tall and lanky with a shiny bald head that he would rub with his eyes closed while talking to patients. He still smoked in his office in 1986 and when AIDS came onto the scene he was a bit circumspect about wearing plastic shields over his face. He was an old school, small town dentist who believed in giving back to his community and helping young, stupid teenage girls gain a little work experience. I loved Dr. Davis. He was kind and gentle and incredibly patient with me as I fumbled around his office.

I’ve worked everyday since my time with Dr. Davis.  I have slowly and methodically built a career.  A career that has challenged me and afforded me the benefit of travel and a variety of new experiences. When I switched from advertising to teaching – in order for me to spend more time with my kids – it seemed natural and a simple redirection of my energy and ambition.  I pursued my career as a project manager and strategist with enthusiasm and passion. Teaching has been no different.  I’m not the kind of teacher who uses the same textbook or syllabus or even in class exercises for more than a couple of semesters. I’m always striving to make my classes better – always trying to serve my students better.

Since 2006 I have applied for a full-time teaching position almost every school year. I have been rejected every year — not even granted an interview.  In 2013, after applying and being rejected AGAIN I made some fundamental decisions about my career.  First, I was not going to get my PhD in order to improve my chances at a full time appointment. Secondly,  I obviously did not have a long term career path in college education.  I began to look at the job, for the first time in my life, as a job. I was beaten down. I felt defeated.

I started homeschooling the kids this past fall and it seemed that perhaps this was God’s grand plan. I was meant to teach my kids and be home. I was destined to let go of my career ambitions and focus on my children.  I felt a new passion for teaching and was loving the ability to teach other subjects to my most favorite people. Frankly, since I didn’t really have an option of doing anything differently it seemed like a good thing.

In June I received an email – I was being asked to come in and interview for a full time teaching position.

Really? After 8 years? After I already decided I didn’t want the job? Seriously? God, do you REALLY think that is funny? Cuz it totally is not funny. Not laughing. Not even a little.

I interviewed for the job and it went as well as I could expect and sure enough I received a job offer.

*sigh*

And so there I sat having to choose – do I continue homeschooling my kids and sacrificing my career or do I send them back to public school and pursue my ambitions full steam? Because contrary to what Sheryl Sandberg or Kim Kardashian tell us most women really CAN’T have it all.

I didn’t respond to the job offer. I went on vacation instead. I spent a lot of that time reflecting on my own happiness, my desires and goals for my children, my role as wife and mother, and asking myself about the example I want to set for my girls. As my friend Christine said to me, “this is a decision regarding authenticity. Where is your heart?” Who am I? Where am I going? What do I want?

I wish I could say that this decision was clear cut and easy for me to make, but it wasn’t.  I cried. I prayed. I asked advice. I consulted all the important people in my life and it all came back to the same thing – “what is in your heart”.  There is only one thing in my heart — well three things really, and they think their Mom is pretty cool without a full time job.

Robert Frost has always been misquoted. It is not that the path he took in the wood was unexplored – as a matter of fact he says they were both about the same (stanza 2). It is the fact that he chose one road, knowing he would not be able to go back and take the other (stanza 3), and that choice put him on a different life journey.  And so I’ve chosen my path and it will make all the difference.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

–––Robert Frost–––

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I Stopped In The Woods

IMG_5643This past week we traveled two hours east to Winnsboro, Texas. It is a speck of a town that has traveled so far past its prime that it can no longer remember if it ever had a heyday. The center of town consists of a Brookshire’s grocery store where the clerk, Brittany, appears to be straight out of a John Mellencamp song.  Across the street sits the Dairy Queen, which also happens to be the only Wi-Fi hot spot in the town.  We spent our week tucked securely into David’s family’s lake house, which sits on Winnsboro Lake – a lake so small that you can see all sides of it almost from the same vantage point.  However, this also means we are frequently the only people on the lake and the lake house, well, it doesn’t have Internet, telephone or cable. As a matter of fact there isn’t even a TV in the lake house. photo-27These past seven days have been filled with late mornings lying in bed listening to the window unit cool the bedroom.  We have spent afternoons watching spring showers glide over the lake ruffling the water like sprinkles on a cake.  The kids have played countless games of Apples to Apples, Sorry, and checkers.  We’ve water skied, and jet skied and been pulled on water tubes. We made bonfires, ate s’mores and stayed up way past our bedtimes.  We got sunburned and have bug bites and have watched caterpillars cross the sidewalk.  We celebrated Grandma’s 94th birthday and went to the farmer’s market where we bought zucchini the size of smallphoto-28 footballs for a $1 a piece.  Max honed his fishing skills while riding on Uncle Bo’s small blue fishing boat. Uncle Bo being the kind of man who talks slow and can spin a tale as long as the fish he catches. We have spent the week cocooned in a world that would rival Thoreau’s Walden Woods. David and I are facing a cross roads in our path. A point in life where you recognize that either decision will lead you to a different destination and you are forced to stop and ask yourself, “where am I going”?  We have stopped in the woods. After a week of reflection I think we know which direction we are going to take and as it is with most large decisions in life it takes no small amount of blind faith. Faith that God will catch you – faith that your life will unfold as it should. “I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.” – Thoreau

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The Story Of One Father

Every mother has a story. Whether that is adoption or natural birth or c-section, every mother has a story of the day their life changed forever.  Frequently these stories include detailed accounts of labor or difficult pregnancies or painful infertility.

The stories we don’t hear are the ones about the day men become fathers. As I get older and reflect on my thirties I regret the fact that perhaps David’s story was left behind. That perhaps in my own confusion about what it meant to be a mother and in the fog of early parenthood I never gave much thought to the journey David traveled. Perhaps he has been far more alone in that journey then I have given him credit.

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David supported me quietly and steadily through two years of infertility. As I swung between the tree limbs of hope and despair he stayed sturdy on the ground. I would plummet into tears and he would lift my spirits by telling me that he would take me on fancy European vacations if we ended up childless. If his heart ached or if he was also disappointed he never gave voice to it.

After Lucy was born I struggled with breast feeding and as I sat on the edge of our bed crumpled into a pile of tears and failure it was David who gently lifted me up and put me back on my feet.  It was David who told me that I was a fantastic mother before I even knew what being a mother meant.

Max was born right on the heels of Lucy and I suddenly found myself being a full time working mother and all of the demands that the role includes.  When I came to David tired, stressed and unsure of my path it was David who gave me the space to figure out my own career choices and supported every decision I made.

When I miscarried and thought the world had come to an end it was David who dried my tears and told me to be patient — that time heals all wounds – and then gave me that time to heal.

And when we got unexpectedly pregnant with the third.  When his job was pressing him to the brink of insanity. When the idea of bringing home a baby into a house with no space must have been weighing on him he went and bought us a new house.

After Harper was born and I found myself in a new house, with a third baby, and my son facing a tonsillectomy and the clouds of postpartum depression rolling in it was David who gently told me to not worry about the kids but take care of myself. He was the one who said, “do whatever you need to do – sleep if that feels good – talk if it feels good”.

During all of this chaos David has traveled his own journey into parenthood. How did he know what fatherhood would be like, or feel like? Did he know what kind of father he would be? Perhaps he didn’t know.  Perhaps he still doesn’t know.  However, I know.

He is an amazing father who shows unfailing, unconditional love every day. He is a father who easily shares a joke and extends forgiveness. He believes in high adventures and lazy Saturdays. He is the kind of dad who will teach you to bait a hook and how to take the best selfie all in the same day.  He is a father who believes that a healthy and happy mother makes for healthy and happy children. He is a father who loves his children.  But above all else he is the best and only father I could ever imagine for my children.

Happy Father’s Day David.

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Twelve Educational iPad Apps

When David and I decided to homeschool neither of us knew what that meant. However, David knew there were a ton of educational apps available on the iPad and so he gave me a blank check and said “buy what you need”.  We’ve done a lot of technology experimentation and so I’d like to provide you with a list of our favorite apps.

 

letter school1.) Letter School

Hands down the most used app of the school year. Max attended The Handwriting Clinic this year and the occupational therapists recommended this app.  It is a very simple idea – kids must trace letters with their fingers. The difference is that they have to draw the letters IN A VERY SPECIFIC SEQUENCE and completely on the lines or they get it wrong.  It teaches the kids the proper sequencing of handwriting and provides positive reinforcement with a video.  This app is really targeted towards grades Pre-k through first grade but Max enjoyed using it as well (second grade).

stack the states2.) Stack The States

This was another very popular app in my family.  This is a combination of state recognition and Tetris. The idea is that the kids are asked a multiple choice question regarding the states. If they get the question right they get to “stack” the state and they keep stacking until they’ve reached a goal. Lucy (age 10) has LOVED this game. I will catch her playing it in bed before she goes to sleep at night.

hopscotch3.) Hopscotch

This app teaches kids basic object-oriented programming by creating little programs for a team of adorably cute monsters. David and the kids have loved this app. The kids have learned to debug and think sequentially. They simply “drag and drop” boxes of code which tells the monsters to do certain things on the screen.  However, if the kids don’t load the boxes of code in the proper sequence nothing happens or it happens in the wrong order.

human body icon4.) Human Body

Have I mentioned how much the human body grosses me out? Well it does. It is pretty gross with all of its fluids and parts and nastiness.  However, this app makes it seem like this super cool machine that does all kinds of super cool things. Kids get to explore the body through different tasks — like feeding it.  Once you’ve given your person food you get to see an inside look as to what the body does with the food — but it’s all animated and cute and not gross like in real life.

math ninja5, 6 & 7.) Marble Math, Ninja Math, and Fraction Squeebles

Okay, so this is a three in one.  These are three separate apps but they are all math oriented and all about math facts. Lucy loves Fraction Squeebles and Marble Math, Max likes Math Ninja. These are all good and basically offer different sorts of games to teach Math facts.  If you want something a bit more advanced or that will teach actual math concepts you might want to visit Khan Academy but for basic math fact drills these are all good.

telling time8.) Telling Time

I’ve been told that most kids don’t really master telling time until 5th grade.  This game allows you to control difficulty level which is nice if you have multiple players at varying ages.  Younger kids can start with simple O’clock and half past times and work their way all the way up to calculating future time.  This has been great for both Max and Lucy and both have been able to tweak it to meet their ability.

monkey word9 & 10) Word Bingo and Monkey Word

Harper especially loves Monkey Word but both of these apps are good at teaching sight words.  Word Bingo is really targeted more towards 1st grade and older and can be adjusted for difficulty. Monkey Word is for the K-1st grade crowd but who doesn’t love the Monkey? He gives you stickers and makes funny noises.

seven little words11) Seven Little Words for Kids

This is not meant to be “educational” but I find it to be a great vocabulary builder for the 4th-6th grade crowd.  It’s a simple game of synonyms.  You are given a clue, similar to a crossword puzzle, but are provided with word fragments that must be unscrambled to determine the word that fits the clue.  I have the adult version of this game on my phone and sometimes Lucy and I can sit and play together

planet discovery12.) Planet Discovery

A full disclaimer that this app isn’t cheap and requires in-app purchases so be warned.  However, it is a very robust app that has provided Lucy quite a bit of information. This app was designed by the Discovery Channel and allows kids to travel the world watching videos and reading information about countries and regions.  Lucy’s favorite part is the ability to dress a virtual doll in traditional clothing from these countries.

 

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Public School To Home School: 5 Tips To Surviving The First Year

About a year ago David and I made the decision to pull the kids out of public school.  The uncertainty and anxiety we felt over making that decision was palpable and even David took to referring to it as our “grand experiment”.  Now, a year later I can’t imagine educating my children any other way.  The number of homeschool parents who start at public school and then transition is growing but not enough of them are talking about the transition.  As a result, here is a list of the things I wish somebody had told me a year ago.

1.) Public School Detox

As an adult you recognize that your children will need to adjust to the new school format but nobody says that as a parent you will too. It took us from August to December to “detox”.  Early on I had a homeschool Mom tell me, “keep in mind that you aren’t doing school at home but you are homeschooling – those things are different”.   We do not have subjects divided by times or spend hours on worksheets.  Life skills and school skills are taught interchangeably and sometimes math looks like a really long visit to the grocery store where kids are calculating ounces and liters and per pound measurements.  Sometimes social studies is a long discussion in the car regarding the welfare system while donating canned goods to the food bank.  Sometimes English is a book club or reading a series of books together as a family.  It takes a long time to release your grip and sense of security that reside in WORKSHEETS.   When I realized that I wasn’t giving my kids any better education than the public school system because I was requiring WORKSHEETS every day I stopped in my tracks and changed course.  Now our day is so much more engaging and eclectic and rewarding for everybody.

2.) Friendships Take Time

EVERYBODY will make you feel like a freak that you are homeschooling and that your children will be socially retarded because they aren’t surrounded by 16 other 8 year olds telling poop jokes.  This pressure will make you frantically scramble for new friends and in the first couple of months they won’t be found and you will feel like a social leper.  It took us a year but we have all met and made new friends.  Homeschool families that have similar schedules, interests and senses of humor.  And yes, perhaps it took a bit more effort than the hundreds of people who surround us during public school but it did happen.  I wish I had more faith at the beginning of my journey that this would happen without me needing to worry about it (and before I forced myself and my children into a dozen awkward social situations).

3.) Dangers of Overbooking

Related to #2 you will fear that you aren’t providing enough interaction and enrichment and so you will commit to EVERYTHING.  Do NOT do this.  I suddenly realized around February that I had booked at least one activity every day of the week and I began to long for days where we could just stay home and do school work. My advice is to designate two or three days and call those “activity days” and that is when music lessons, speech classes, tutoring, Co-op or whatever takes place.  I’m comforted in knowing that even well seasoned home schoolers still struggle with this very thing.

On the flip side, try EVERYTHING.  There are so many great opportunities for lessons and co-ops and clubs and we tried a lot of different things this year.  Some of them worked great like book club and others did not like Lego club. We have loved our co-op experience but there are some homeschool groups I don’t think we will join again.

4.) Goals

I mentally set goals for each of the kids.  Things I wanted to make sure they accomplished before the end of the year. It was nice to think, “well, I wanted to make sure we accomplished these 4 things, and we did”.   I wanted Max to improve his handwriting, his reading skills, learn to tie his shoes, ride a bike and learn his multiplication tables and he did.  He accomplished all of those things.  There was other stuff we accomplished too but to know that the key things were met made me feel like we stayed on track.

5.) Keep Reading and Reaching

There were lots of times this year that I felt like a failure.  I suspect that feeling won’t ever go away, but it was nice to have other moms, homeschool families, books and educators encouraging me along the way. On good days, or  times when we had breakthroughs, I would mark them down and celebrate them so I didn’t let them go unnoticed. Keep looking for those places of encouragement because you will need to go back to that well again and again.  Sometimes the perfect book or article or even FB post was enough to help me face another day.

I can’t believe we only have six weeks left in our school year.  I don’t know exactly when we will stop because I’m not sure when I will feel like we’re done, and perhaps we will continue to do some school things right on through the summer.  After all we’re trying to create life long learners and learning doesn’t stop happening just because it is warm outside.

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Happy Birthday

When you are in the middle of creating your family the idea of ever having a time when there won’t be somebody needing a diaper or needing a bottle or needing something will never happen.  It feels like this marathon to which there is no finish line.  When you’ve stopped having children, in that moment, somebody  starts the stopwatch and your time begins to tick down.  Every day is one less day you will have with your kids.  Every last shoe that you tie is one less you will do in the future.  Suddenly there is a finish line, and it feels like it is rushing towards you faster than you ever imagined.  Perhaps I’m more aware because I’m an older mother, perhaps this is the natural progression of parenthood.  I don’t know, I just wish my kids didn’t have to get any older and that time could stop right now.

IMG_5499Dear Lucy,

You just turned 10 years old.  You keep trying to convince me that this makes you a “pre-teen” but I refuse to acknowledge the term or the classification.  This has frustrated you to no end and is quite symbolic of how you feel — one foot firmly stuck in childhood and one pulling you into adolescence.  You have ushered into an age of fear.  You are worried about EVERYTHING.  The world has become this large, scary place that both excites you and frightens you.  You are as likely to tell me that you want to go hang gliding as you are to tell me that you are scared of the dark.  You want to know about the origin of mankind but also blindly believe in the Tooth Fairy.  You will back talk me one second and reach for my hand the next.

Although this yin-yang of your personality is challenging and quite perplexing it is also the dynamic that I admire most about you.  Because if I had to choose one word to describe you Lucy it would be courageous. Yes, you are scared and fearful and worried but that doesn’t stop you.  I’ve seen you stay strong, in the face of what would be paralyzing fear in others. This inner strength, this lioness that lurks deep within you is your most amazing quality.  It is your strength paired with your delicate sensitivities and natural nurturing personality that has you defending your baby sister one second and holding her hand the next.

Although I have begun to mourn the passing of your childhood I eagerly await the young woman you are about to become, because you will amaze the world.

 

photo-30Dear Max,

You turned 8 this year and although I struggle to keep up with your age I can no longer ignore it.  You’ve grown so much physically and emotionally that I’m starting to see hints of what you will be like as a man.  Your big bear hugs are becoming less common as you become aware of the fact that it isn’t cool to hug your Mom. Your tears flow less often, with your frustration now being expressed as anger. Your stutter is still there but you seem to be less self conscious of it.  You have struggled to figure out who you are but I’m starting to see your strengths bubble to the surface.  You’ve developed a love of robotics and engineering.  You want to know how things work, how they break, how they are built and are fascinated with any toy or tool that reinforces this idea.

In many ways you are getting to be a big boy, wanting to play rough with your friends, stay home by yourself and do other “big boy” things and yet so much of “little Max” is still there that I can’t help but to still baby you.  Your tears break my heart and your frustrations are mine to carry.  I protect you far more aggressively than your confident sister. And perhaps, just perhaps, I baby you too much.

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Dearest Harper,

Your physical body can barely contain your personality.  You may only be four but everybody who meets you knows there is no doubt about who you are. Although you have all the traditional markings of a four year old; stubbornness, fierceness, and a need for things to be YOUR way it is the non-typical things that I adore.  You have a strong streak of sympathy and your apologies and regrets at hurt feelings flow freely.  Your absolute obsession with all things medical to the point where you insist on accompanying EVERYBODY to EVERY doctor’s appointment.  You admire the doctor’s instruments and comment, “they are sooooo beautiful”.  You have such a strong desire to be “a part of” every conversation or activity that you just talk over everybody  — total nonsense pours out of your mouth — but you are part of the conversation and that is all that matters.

Most importantly, you are my third and my last and therefore I wallow in your babyhood.  The way you smell, the softness of your skin, the innocent comments, the clumsy hugs and freely shared kisses — all will disappear before I know it.  And when you leave these things behind so will I and therefore I am in no hurry for you to grow up.  I’ve not set a deadline for you to stop sucking your thumb. I’m in no rush to force you to give up diapers. You can not know your letters and shapes and colors a bit longer.  And yet, the irony is that all of these things are happening faster with you than the first two because you are the last.  You are sprinting through your toddlerhood in an effort to keep up with your big sister and brother just as I clamor to hold you back.

My dearest Harper, please stay a baby a little longer.  Please stay curled in my lap a little longer.  Please let me nuzzle your head a little longer.

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A Christmas Love Story

I lived in room 424 and she lived in room 324.  I drove a bright yellow Geo Storm and she drove a bright orange VW Bug with plaid interiors.  Kym and I met in August of my Junior year in college.  We were Resident Advisors together and after one weekend of being on duty we were best friends.  Kym is the keeper of my twenties.  She knows the stories she can share (the night we dressed as ninjas) and the ones that are best forgotten.  She knows when I’m lying to myself and tells me. We ate breakfast together, dinner together, walked to class together and dated sets of roommates.  There isn’t a kiss, crush, or heartbreak that happened between ages 19-28 that Kym doesn’t know about  or witnessed.

303238_10150322857643616_156781271_nAs college faded into the past and our lives became involved with husbands and careers and children our hourly communication drifted gradually into once every couple of months.  The two lives that were so completely intertwined in college eventually became two parallel lives in different cities and often in different states.

Time passed.

This past September Kym’s husband was deployed to the middle east.  Deployments are never easy, but Kym has waited through them before and was prepared for the four months ahead of her.  We talked before her husband’s deployment and exchanged some sporadic emails in the month that followed.   She was doing fine and keeping her family on track.  In November I called to check on her and she shared her excitement about her mother flying down in the next couple of days.  Her mom was going to stay with her for a month and she and the kids were so excited.  Three days later Kym called to tell me that her mother would not be flying down because she had been admitted into the hospital with non-Hodgkins Lymphoma.  A reoccurrence of a disease her mother had battled only 18 months prior.

Her voice was different.  I knew, as only a friend of 20 years can know, that she had crossed her tipping point.  She said she was okay and she said she would manage and that she didn’t need help but it was all a lie.  Her voice.  The sadness and despair that lurked right under the surface was evident.  David insisted she come and stay with us until her husband’s return.  She resisted. I insisted that she stay with us for Thanksgiving, but she said no.  I started calling weekly, texting regularly, and trying to gauge her needs from afar. In December, she finally relented to come for Christmas – Kym, her four kids and two dogs.  When they finally spilled out of their car and I caught her in my arms I didn’t want to let go.

The holiday was magical.  There was joy and laughter and kindness and children and puppies billowing out of every corner of my house.  We ate cookies, played games, shopped and talked until midnight EVERY DAY.  We retold old stories, made new ones, and fell into the easy friendship that has sustained for so many years – the only thing missing was the cafeteria food.  We cried at every doctor’s update and smiled at every phone call from overseas.  We rolled our eyes at our children, shook our fists in frustration and laughed at the mothers we have become. And after ten days and with the promise that we will not allow so much time to pass between visits she packed up and drove home.

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Friendship is hard.  It is hard to find friends, make friends and keep friends.  Most of us can look in our rear view mirror and see friendships that were dropped along the roadside, either due to time, or circumstance.  Female friendships are even harder, frequently the victim of hurt feelings.  But if you are lucky enough to have a friend — just one — that can look into your eyes and know your heart, who willingly shares your tears, and who can make you laugh at every corner of life – you are the richest person of all.  And this Christmas, as I was surrounded by my parents, my sister, my brother-in-law, my nephews and my best friend I realized there wasn’t a single thing I wanted for Christmas.

 

 

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The Legacy Of The Advent Calendar

Shortly after Max was born I got this crazy idea to make my own advent calendar.  I remembered always having an advent calendar as a child and Pinterest was filled with so many great ideas that I figured it would be simple.  I’m inherently neither a sewer nor a crafter. I have zero patience for those sorts of things. However, I decided that this was a project I could handle. Insert eye roll and large laborious sighs.

It took me close to a month to complete my advent calendar and at the end it looked like an 8th grade Home Ec student made it.  However, it was functional and so I used it with the intention that I would replace it with something nicer and probably store bought. Over the years the pockets of our advent calendar have been filled with all kinds of things – tiny toys, Christmas ornaments, activity coupons, bible passages, pencils, candy and other special treats.  Every year I take the calendar out with the idea that I will look for something “nicer” – something a bit more professional looking.

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This year as the Christmas and Hanukkah decorations were pulled into the house I handed the advent calendar to Lucy and told her to hang it up.  She and Max exclaimed in delight and jumped around squealing with anticipation of what the calendar might hold this year. Again, I stood back and admired my shoddy sewing job.

It was several days later when Lucy and I were busy running errands that she said to me in the car, “Mama, when you are done with the advent calendar – like when you no longer have kids at home – can I have it for my kids?” *sniffle*

As mothers we are so hard on ourselves.  Our expectations and standards for what we should be doing and how much we should be accomplishing is beyond unrealistic.  I recently read a blog post on the momastery describing a visit to the elementary school where children were asked to write about their dreams.  All the children wrote down that they dreamed, “for my family to be happy”.   Happy. That is what our children want. They want us to be happy.  Lucy’s request for my lopsided, poorly sewn, messily finished advent calendar is a reminder that where I see mistakes she sees beauty.  Where I’m thinking “I could do better” – my children are thinking “I have the best Mom ever”.

Perhaps the job of motherhood isn’t nearly as hard as we are making it.  Perhaps if we focused more on being happy and less on being perfect this job would seem far more attainable.  Perhaps happiness just means a simple adjustment in perspective.

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