A week is plenty long enough for me to be apart from my husband. He felt the same way. Don't get me wrong. Sometimes it's nice to have a little extra space in the bed or not have to do dishes, laundry, and cooking for a few days. Sometimes it's nice to be able to watch tv at any volume and not worry about waking up your child or wife.
But the novelty of those niceties wears off very quickly. I think we were both missing the stupid, little, everyday, mundane things about family life after two or three days. So yesterday, when my hubby FINALLY came home from work and did his trademark whistle, I ran straight to him, not even waiting for my kid or picking him up along the way. Yep, I outran my almost-two-year-old to get to my husband first! (Don't worry, he was 10 seconds behind me.)
But boy, was I glad to see Lino!!!! It was so good to just see his face across the table, have his help with feeding our son, and absolutely sheer delight to watch him and our son playing together again. Lino even admitted one of the things he missed the most was getting "body splashed." That would be the game our son invented where he goes to the opposite end of the house and runs at us full force, crashing into us with giggles. It's pretty much all of our favorite game.
I know we all get on one another's nerves on rare occasion. And I wasn't annoyed by him when I left. At all. But I appreciate him more than when I left. And I am glad to know he missed both of us as well. It's almost like it reaffirms the joy we have in the place we are in our lives. And that's always nice to come home to.
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Monday, February 27, 2012
A Beautiful Wedding
I am still here in Nashville with my darling son. I attended my cousin's beautiful wedding Saturday evening. Weddings, especially those of my family, always make me nostalgic and sentimental. I'm afraid that means if you continue reading today's blog, you must put up with some gushing.
The bride, attendants, ceremony, and reception were all beautiful. It seemed to (thankfully!) go off without any noticeable hitches, glitches, or drama. As I sat there listening to them recite their vows, I must admit, I missed my husband a little bit more. But I think that's a good thing. I would have worried if I didn't! Listening to them promise one another forever made me reflect back on the vows I've made.
Twice, I have promised "til death do us part." Once, it actually happened. That sucked. But it also gave me hope and faith that you CAN promise forever, mean it, and keep it. It was indeed stranger for me to say it the second time, after having walked it out once. After my wedding in California with our families present, even my brother told me afterwards he wondered how it was for me to say those words. It's definitely different and more impactful to kind of know what you're committing to.
But that's the beauty of love given from God. Even if you know the pain and sorrow that can come from that kind of promise, even if you know how vulnerable you're allowing yourself to become, you also know that, with God's help, you can do it. And you know that it's worth it. It's worth every bump and pothole in the road of life. It's worth the trouble, the heartache, the effort. Because every part of it, even the rough stuff, are small matters and moments compared to the overwhelming blessing that comes from being in a committed, healthy, forever marriage.
The bride, attendants, ceremony, and reception were all beautiful. It seemed to (thankfully!) go off without any noticeable hitches, glitches, or drama. As I sat there listening to them recite their vows, I must admit, I missed my husband a little bit more. But I think that's a good thing. I would have worried if I didn't! Listening to them promise one another forever made me reflect back on the vows I've made.
Twice, I have promised "til death do us part." Once, it actually happened. That sucked. But it also gave me hope and faith that you CAN promise forever, mean it, and keep it. It was indeed stranger for me to say it the second time, after having walked it out once. After my wedding in California with our families present, even my brother told me afterwards he wondered how it was for me to say those words. It's definitely different and more impactful to kind of know what you're committing to.
But that's the beauty of love given from God. Even if you know the pain and sorrow that can come from that kind of promise, even if you know how vulnerable you're allowing yourself to become, you also know that, with God's help, you can do it. And you know that it's worth it. It's worth every bump and pothole in the road of life. It's worth the trouble, the heartache, the effort. Because every part of it, even the rough stuff, are small matters and moments compared to the overwhelming blessing that comes from being in a committed, healthy, forever marriage.
Friday, February 24, 2012
Family
Yes, the time stamp on this is correct. It's about 4 am as I write this. It doesn't feel particularly early to me right now, as I have laid in bed since 10:30ish without having fallen asleep. The boredom finally bested me, so I'm up. I'll sleep tomorrow night. Hopefully. As I lie there in the bed of my childhood with my son in his pack-n-play, I got to thinking about family. (This entry isn't written from a particular incident or about anyone. So don't try to interpret it as such or "see yourself" in this. It's just the random thoughts of a sleepless brain.)
There's family we're born into, family we marry into, and family we choose. There's adoption of the legal sense and adoption of those around us we love and call family when our "real" ones aren't nearby. Family can be a blessing of immeasurable worth. They can also be far and away the biggest cause of sorrow, frustration, and even anger. Just ask the father and brother of the prodigal son. I believe we all have a mindset of what family should be. And then there's the reality of family.
Families are, unfortunately, all flawed. You see, they're made up of people. And last time I looked around, there was only ever one flawless person. So often, we put family members on pedestals of expectations. When they fall short of our expectations, realistic or not, they have "failed" us. Sometimes, we have to choose to walk away from family members. Sometimes for a brief season, sometimes we must cut ties. I don't judge. But I do think it is always a sad outcome.
Since I have moved away from my family, my appreciation for them has deepened. I miss them when I'm gone. I'm cherish them when we're together. I make more of an effort to talk to them, even about the mundane, everyday, boring stuff. For me, that's what keeps me connected. It's not just calling on holidays or skyping on birthdays. It's a call because it's Wednesday or skyping because my son is being extra-silly or cute.
I have found family in co-workers, in new friends who share similar paths and life experiences. I have drawn strength in their kindness and felt deep wounds when we inadvertently hurt one another or fail to meet expectations. I have lost family members, including some that I've had to walk away from. Hopefully for a season, but probably longer.
I hope I give my son a good family. I hope we give him a name he's proud to bear. I hope he grows up loving his immediate and extended family. I hope he marries into a kind and good family. I hope he chooses to surround himself with those who can act as family if he's not close to home. Or even if he is.
In all this, what I have learned is, even when you have to walk away, family is still family. Good, bad, and ugly. Make the best of it you possibly can. Family is forever.
There's family we're born into, family we marry into, and family we choose. There's adoption of the legal sense and adoption of those around us we love and call family when our "real" ones aren't nearby. Family can be a blessing of immeasurable worth. They can also be far and away the biggest cause of sorrow, frustration, and even anger. Just ask the father and brother of the prodigal son. I believe we all have a mindset of what family should be. And then there's the reality of family.
Families are, unfortunately, all flawed. You see, they're made up of people. And last time I looked around, there was only ever one flawless person. So often, we put family members on pedestals of expectations. When they fall short of our expectations, realistic or not, they have "failed" us. Sometimes, we have to choose to walk away from family members. Sometimes for a brief season, sometimes we must cut ties. I don't judge. But I do think it is always a sad outcome.
Since I have moved away from my family, my appreciation for them has deepened. I miss them when I'm gone. I'm cherish them when we're together. I make more of an effort to talk to them, even about the mundane, everyday, boring stuff. For me, that's what keeps me connected. It's not just calling on holidays or skyping on birthdays. It's a call because it's Wednesday or skyping because my son is being extra-silly or cute.
I have found family in co-workers, in new friends who share similar paths and life experiences. I have drawn strength in their kindness and felt deep wounds when we inadvertently hurt one another or fail to meet expectations. I have lost family members, including some that I've had to walk away from. Hopefully for a season, but probably longer.
I hope I give my son a good family. I hope we give him a name he's proud to bear. I hope he grows up loving his immediate and extended family. I hope he marries into a kind and good family. I hope he chooses to surround himself with those who can act as family if he's not close to home. Or even if he is.
In all this, what I have learned is, even when you have to walk away, family is still family. Good, bad, and ugly. Make the best of it you possibly can. Family is forever.
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Ah, Growth Spurts
My son is such a random knucklehead. When he decides to grow at a rapid rate (which is more often than I think it should be) he sleeps. A LOT. He eats less, which I totally don't get. He's generally still happy. But this kid zonks out way more.
Today, he woke up around 6:45 am (not too bad.) By 10 am, he was drifting off again. I tried to feed him or give him a cup of milk. All he wanted was his bed. Which is fine, unless he wakes up hungry in 20 minutes and then decides to not nap again for the rest of the day.
The funny thing is, I always forget that he tends to sleep more when he's growing. You would think with it happening every few months, I'd have this figured out by now. I don't. I forget every time. Then I finally get used to his additional sleep and he quits.
I'm not sure how in heaven's name some parents have their children on schedules. I mean, it's a great theory. I'm sure it would make life very organized and simple. My kid, however, likes to keep me on my toes. I can try to set up a schedule. And he has general routine that he abides by (i.e. wake up some time between 5 & 7, take a 1.5 - 4 hour nap some time during the day, eat a bunch of times, play a bunch, go to bed.) I'm glad he's flexible enough to adapt to different activities. But the complete randomness of today's early nap with no lunch is definitely throwing me for a loop.
Yep, a loop. As in a loop-di-loop. As in, my life as a mommy is an absolutely unpredictable roller coaster. Every day is different. Some are so low-key they border on boring (which is rare.) Some are busy. Some are fantastically full of laughter and smiles. Some I'm ready to string him up by his toenails (and he probably feels the same about me.) But all are unique. And I absolutely adore my life! I wouldn't trade my roller coaster for the most sane, predictable planned-out ride in the world.
Today, he woke up around 6:45 am (not too bad.) By 10 am, he was drifting off again. I tried to feed him or give him a cup of milk. All he wanted was his bed. Which is fine, unless he wakes up hungry in 20 minutes and then decides to not nap again for the rest of the day.
The funny thing is, I always forget that he tends to sleep more when he's growing. You would think with it happening every few months, I'd have this figured out by now. I don't. I forget every time. Then I finally get used to his additional sleep and he quits.
I'm not sure how in heaven's name some parents have their children on schedules. I mean, it's a great theory. I'm sure it would make life very organized and simple. My kid, however, likes to keep me on my toes. I can try to set up a schedule. And he has general routine that he abides by (i.e. wake up some time between 5 & 7, take a 1.5 - 4 hour nap some time during the day, eat a bunch of times, play a bunch, go to bed.) I'm glad he's flexible enough to adapt to different activities. But the complete randomness of today's early nap with no lunch is definitely throwing me for a loop.
Yep, a loop. As in a loop-di-loop. As in, my life as a mommy is an absolutely unpredictable roller coaster. Every day is different. Some are so low-key they border on boring (which is rare.) Some are busy. Some are fantastically full of laughter and smiles. Some I'm ready to string him up by his toenails (and he probably feels the same about me.) But all are unique. And I absolutely adore my life! I wouldn't trade my roller coaster for the most sane, predictable planned-out ride in the world.
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Grocery Store Loyalty
I have been very loyal to my grocery store over the past couple of years. I'll be honest. I love it. I love the people that work there. I love their kindness. I know the lay-out (and I like it!) I like their products, their prices, and the attentiveness of everyone there. However, in an effort to maximize our finances and ensure we're not spending money unnecessarily, I have agreed to a one-month trial of shopping at a competitor's store.
I've heard all the ads and seen all the hype. So I decided to see if it's real. Will it actually save me enough to (1) be worth the drive (it's a few minutes further) and (2) give up the people I have built relationships with at MY store? I know it sounds silly to say I build relationships at a store. But when certain people see me and my son, they know our names. They smile. They ask about him on the occasions when I shop without him.
So, Jackson and I ventured to the new store today. They use a rewards card program to offer lower prices on products. Thus, our first stop was the customer service desk to sign up. I told the lady I had not been in this particular shop before, I was loyal to their competitor, but willing to try and see if they can save me money. Boy, oh boy! If you want a company to clammer over themselves to make and keep you happy, tell them you like their rival! They started telling me all about their perks, their prices, their people, and generally what makes them better.
We got our card and went on our merry way, wandering through the aisles, comparing prices on things we commonly buy, even if we didn't today. Everyone was indeed very friendly and helpful. They carried a product I've looked for and couldn't find at my previous grocer. They offer self check-out lines. They definitely had some things going for them. There were also a couple of things I couldn't find though. And I didn't understand the lay-out because it is very different from what I am accustomed. But I'll adjust, should I decide to continue with the new store.
All that aside, the biggest tell was definitely going to be the receipt. (Drum roll please...) On my first shopping trip, I saved over $11 on a $53 bill. That's almost a 20% savings on the very first trip! If they can keep that up, they'll win my business. Here was the kicker though. (I had spoken with one of the assistant managers earlier while walking around.) As I was about to leave the store, that same assistant manager, who knew I was loyal to another store and exploring the possibility of defecting, came up to me and gave me a free coupon book.
I like when people fall all over themselves to earn and keep my business. Maybe that makes me silly or shallow. But it's nice to go someplace where people actually take pride in the organization for which they work. It's nice to know my business is important to them. So, I'll use their coupons and see what the receipts say over the next month. And I may still run mini-errands to the closer store or wander around there to say hi on a cold or rainy day. But I definitely may betray my grocery store loyalty.
I've heard all the ads and seen all the hype. So I decided to see if it's real. Will it actually save me enough to (1) be worth the drive (it's a few minutes further) and (2) give up the people I have built relationships with at MY store? I know it sounds silly to say I build relationships at a store. But when certain people see me and my son, they know our names. They smile. They ask about him on the occasions when I shop without him.
So, Jackson and I ventured to the new store today. They use a rewards card program to offer lower prices on products. Thus, our first stop was the customer service desk to sign up. I told the lady I had not been in this particular shop before, I was loyal to their competitor, but willing to try and see if they can save me money. Boy, oh boy! If you want a company to clammer over themselves to make and keep you happy, tell them you like their rival! They started telling me all about their perks, their prices, their people, and generally what makes them better.
We got our card and went on our merry way, wandering through the aisles, comparing prices on things we commonly buy, even if we didn't today. Everyone was indeed very friendly and helpful. They carried a product I've looked for and couldn't find at my previous grocer. They offer self check-out lines. They definitely had some things going for them. There were also a couple of things I couldn't find though. And I didn't understand the lay-out because it is very different from what I am accustomed. But I'll adjust, should I decide to continue with the new store.
All that aside, the biggest tell was definitely going to be the receipt. (Drum roll please...) On my first shopping trip, I saved over $11 on a $53 bill. That's almost a 20% savings on the very first trip! If they can keep that up, they'll win my business. Here was the kicker though. (I had spoken with one of the assistant managers earlier while walking around.) As I was about to leave the store, that same assistant manager, who knew I was loyal to another store and exploring the possibility of defecting, came up to me and gave me a free coupon book.
I like when people fall all over themselves to earn and keep my business. Maybe that makes me silly or shallow. But it's nice to go someplace where people actually take pride in the organization for which they work. It's nice to know my business is important to them. So, I'll use their coupons and see what the receipts say over the next month. And I may still run mini-errands to the closer store or wander around there to say hi on a cold or rainy day. But I definitely may betray my grocery store loyalty.
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Mickey and Sylvia were right
Love is strange. I just celebrated my wedding anniversary with my sweet husband yesterday, on Valentine's Day. I love him more now than I did when I married him. We went out to dinner with our son. I love him more now than the day he was born. I wasn't sure either was possible.
I feel like I've known them both forever and it seems as though I've been a wife and mom much longer than I have. I feel more like myself, more complete, more understood, and more comfortable in my own skin than I thought was possible. I didn't even know I felt not quite "me." Now, I do. It's because of those two knuckleheads. Yes, love is strange. Investing in them has helped me come into my own. Being honest with them has led to being honest with myself. Listening to and understanding them has brought deeper self-awareness.
And yet, there are days I cannot believe how brief a time I've known them both. I am continually learning about them. I discover new things (most of which I like.) I know we all change and become different versions of ourselves over time. I am often saddened to hear of families or couples that break up because they "grew apart." We all constantly change and grow. The trick is to try to change and grow together.
I like learning about them. I like knowing their quirks, likes, dislikes. I like knowing how I can show my love to them, even without words. Sometimes, I get lazy. Sometimes, I have to be reminded. How fortunate am I to have people in my life that think I'm worth reminding, instead of giving up on me, on us! And how blessed am I to know that I can remind them what I need as well, without fear of abandonment, hurt, or mocking.
Love is strange. You see, we all innately love ourselves, to some degree. And so often, we see self-love as the ultimate, end-game. "What's good for ME?" Here's where love gets quirky. The more we give it, the more we consider others above ourselves, the more we pour into the lives of loved ones, friends, acquaintances, strangers, and enemies; the more we get back. Love does not run out because we pass it around. It grows.
The more deeply in love I fall with my God, my husband, my son, my family, the more I know about myself. The more I see me through their eyes instead of my self-critical sight, the more I love me. When I focus on others, I become happier. When I am self-centered, I am much less content. And so is everyone around me.
So I will try to meet the "love-needs" of others. I will spend time playing with my son when there's something else I want to or should be doing. I will get up in the morning and make breakfast for my husband instead of sleeping an extra few minutes. And I will be so much more fulfilled, content, happy, and loved.
Yes, love is strange.
I feel like I've known them both forever and it seems as though I've been a wife and mom much longer than I have. I feel more like myself, more complete, more understood, and more comfortable in my own skin than I thought was possible. I didn't even know I felt not quite "me." Now, I do. It's because of those two knuckleheads. Yes, love is strange. Investing in them has helped me come into my own. Being honest with them has led to being honest with myself. Listening to and understanding them has brought deeper self-awareness.
And yet, there are days I cannot believe how brief a time I've known them both. I am continually learning about them. I discover new things (most of which I like.) I know we all change and become different versions of ourselves over time. I am often saddened to hear of families or couples that break up because they "grew apart." We all constantly change and grow. The trick is to try to change and grow together.
I like learning about them. I like knowing their quirks, likes, dislikes. I like knowing how I can show my love to them, even without words. Sometimes, I get lazy. Sometimes, I have to be reminded. How fortunate am I to have people in my life that think I'm worth reminding, instead of giving up on me, on us! And how blessed am I to know that I can remind them what I need as well, without fear of abandonment, hurt, or mocking.
Love is strange. You see, we all innately love ourselves, to some degree. And so often, we see self-love as the ultimate, end-game. "What's good for ME?" Here's where love gets quirky. The more we give it, the more we consider others above ourselves, the more we pour into the lives of loved ones, friends, acquaintances, strangers, and enemies; the more we get back. Love does not run out because we pass it around. It grows.
The more deeply in love I fall with my God, my husband, my son, my family, the more I know about myself. The more I see me through their eyes instead of my self-critical sight, the more I love me. When I focus on others, I become happier. When I am self-centered, I am much less content. And so is everyone around me.
So I will try to meet the "love-needs" of others. I will spend time playing with my son when there's something else I want to or should be doing. I will get up in the morning and make breakfast for my husband instead of sleeping an extra few minutes. And I will be so much more fulfilled, content, happy, and loved.
Yes, love is strange.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Time
There's a lot we can do with time. We can waste it, which most of us do more often than we care to admit. We can kill it (which is similar to wasting, but sometimes more aggressively.) We can invest it. We can spend it. (These last two sound like opposites in the financial world, but in the realm of time, they are remarkably similar.)
The other day, my husband suggested we take our son to an outdoor store with an aquarium, just to wander around, not be couch potatoes in front of the TV, and to "kill time." I told him that any time the three of us spend together, especially in deliberate activity and introducing our child to something new is NOT killing time. It's investing in our child, one another, and our family.
Yes, there's lots of things we CAN do with time. There's a couple we cannot, though. We can't get it back. Once a moment is gone, it's gone forever. There's no DVRing or rewind in real life. Likewise, there's no fast forward. We can't pause it to hold onto something wonderful or skip chapters we'd rather not experience. Each moment is a gift that will never be duplicated by anyone else ever again. The good, the bad, the ugly, they all add up to make us whole. We are the sums of the parts. And we are greater than any one moment.
We also cannot add time to our lives. None of us know how long we have. Some stay on Earth for mere minutes. Others thirty-five years. Still others, like the recently departed last surviving veteran of WWI, saw 110 years worth of moments. We can't add time by worrying. We can't save time in a bottle. No, we can only spend, kill, invest, or waste the moment we're currently in. No one is ever guaranteed another one.
This past Saturday, I had a long while to contemplate this string of thoughts. My son had taken an early nap, but it was way too short. I knew he would need another & kind of dreaded it because he's gotten away from a second nap. So it's sometimes a challenge to get him to lay down again. But I also knew he'd be a pistol if he didn't sleep some more. So, I laid him down and curled up to watch college basketball. He cried for a few minutes but drifted off eventually. Unfortunately, he woke up after only half an hour. I let him cry for a couple of minutes to see if he'd zonk back out but he didn't. So I went to check on him. (It was the "Mommy, I'm kind of freaked out and I'm not really sure why" cry instead of the normal, "Get me outta here!" cry.)
I picked him up but he didn't stop crying. So I sat down in the glider, covered him with a blanket, and began to rock, trying to soothe him. Shortly after he calmed down a couple of minutes later, he fell back to sleep. Now, being his mom, I know this kid. I knew from the previous cry that he would likely just wake up and freak out again if I laid him back in his crib. I also knew he could use some more sleep. So I thought, "I can waste time and watch the basketball game. Or I can invest time and hold my slumbering 21-month-old son, who may not sleep in my arms many more times, if ever."
Yeah, I held him. For another hour and 20 minutes while he slept contentedly, I glided, patted, rubbed, and held my sweet little boy. And it definitely wasn't a waste.
The other day, my husband suggested we take our son to an outdoor store with an aquarium, just to wander around, not be couch potatoes in front of the TV, and to "kill time." I told him that any time the three of us spend together, especially in deliberate activity and introducing our child to something new is NOT killing time. It's investing in our child, one another, and our family.
Yes, there's lots of things we CAN do with time. There's a couple we cannot, though. We can't get it back. Once a moment is gone, it's gone forever. There's no DVRing or rewind in real life. Likewise, there's no fast forward. We can't pause it to hold onto something wonderful or skip chapters we'd rather not experience. Each moment is a gift that will never be duplicated by anyone else ever again. The good, the bad, the ugly, they all add up to make us whole. We are the sums of the parts. And we are greater than any one moment.
We also cannot add time to our lives. None of us know how long we have. Some stay on Earth for mere minutes. Others thirty-five years. Still others, like the recently departed last surviving veteran of WWI, saw 110 years worth of moments. We can't add time by worrying. We can't save time in a bottle. No, we can only spend, kill, invest, or waste the moment we're currently in. No one is ever guaranteed another one.
This past Saturday, I had a long while to contemplate this string of thoughts. My son had taken an early nap, but it was way too short. I knew he would need another & kind of dreaded it because he's gotten away from a second nap. So it's sometimes a challenge to get him to lay down again. But I also knew he'd be a pistol if he didn't sleep some more. So, I laid him down and curled up to watch college basketball. He cried for a few minutes but drifted off eventually. Unfortunately, he woke up after only half an hour. I let him cry for a couple of minutes to see if he'd zonk back out but he didn't. So I went to check on him. (It was the "Mommy, I'm kind of freaked out and I'm not really sure why" cry instead of the normal, "Get me outta here!" cry.)
I picked him up but he didn't stop crying. So I sat down in the glider, covered him with a blanket, and began to rock, trying to soothe him. Shortly after he calmed down a couple of minutes later, he fell back to sleep. Now, being his mom, I know this kid. I knew from the previous cry that he would likely just wake up and freak out again if I laid him back in his crib. I also knew he could use some more sleep. So I thought, "I can waste time and watch the basketball game. Or I can invest time and hold my slumbering 21-month-old son, who may not sleep in my arms many more times, if ever."
Yeah, I held him. For another hour and 20 minutes while he slept contentedly, I glided, patted, rubbed, and held my sweet little boy. And it definitely wasn't a waste.
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