Days are long

The days are long, but the years are short. That's how the saying goes I think.

For us, in this moment of life, it would be more appropriate to say the afternoons are long but the weeks are short (or the months or the years I suppose). Right now we're in a little bit of payback mode since she was a ridiculously easy baby. She never had a witching hour, never really cried for no apparent reason. Well, she is making up for lost time. Particularly from the moment she wakes up from her nap and until dinnertime she is in what seems like a constant state of crying, whining or clinging. Anything and everything sets her off. Yesterday I took away the phone and she cried so intensely that she was literally gagging and I thought for sure she was going to vomit. C'mon.

I don't remember Simon being this emotionally unhinged at this age. Maybe she is getting it all out of her system now and by the time she is 2 or 3, she will be a normal human being. Or maybe I just blocked it out when Simon was this age and in a few years I'll look back at Cecilia at 15 months with pure fondness and remember only that she was adorable.

Which she is of course.

morning o' fun

Get to bank with pockets full of rolls of change, cash and checks from Run Like a Mother. Get kids out of car. Look down and notice boogers on my pants. Charge ahead and pull on doors. Locked. Look at time. Not open for 15 minutes. Get kids back in car. They are both crying, she because she doesn't want to get back in the car already and he because he didn't get a bank treat. Go to UPS. Park right outside. Leave kids in car. Fear for their lives despite being 15 feet away with only a glass wall separating us. Fill out form wrong. Fill out another one. Then two more, the right way. Leave UPS and go back to bank. Get kids out and go in. Realize I don't have an account number. Go outside. Call Portland office in hopes of getting the number. Pray someone got an early start to their day on the West coast. Dial wrong number. Call right number. Success! Someone was in early. Get number. Go back in bank. Boy steals cookies. Boy steals candy. Girl pulls info sheets off counter. Sunglasses fall off and break. She grabs paper out of my hands. I take it away. She cries. Simon steals more treats because I'm distracted. Teller takes FOREVER. She cries more. Employees look at me with empathetic eyes. We get the hell out of there.

Go to park.

Take pictures.

Couple from afar tells me they thought I was photographing a doll.

Play for awhile.

Go home.

Feed kids.

Start laundry. Clean kitchen.

Look at said pictures :)

My Mama

My mom could drink out of a "World's Best Mom" coffee mug with some serious confidence. I'm pretty sure there are other moms out there who could drink from it and not feel like a total fraud, but they still probably don't live up to mine.

My mom used to take my grandma's elderly friend on outings from her nursing home because she had no other family. Once when we were taking her home I sat in the backseat and silently cried when this woman was going on about how wonderful my mom was for all she was doing. I was so proud and just thought about how lucky my sisters and I were to have her. Sometimes I feel like all I do is take take take. I'm the little boy, she's the Giving Tree. It will be impossible to repay her for all she has done for me (and my family), so I'm probably going to have to pay it forward instead.

I'll pay it forward by trying to do these things as successfully as my own mother:

• Make all of my kids feel like they are genuinely my favorite (seriously, ask my sisters, I bet they each think they are our mother's favorite)
• Be such a great listening ear that they want to talk to me every day
• Be so supportive and empathetic that they know that I truly feel their ups and downs as much as they do
• Be so kind to other people that they forever think they are too mean and are therefore forever trying to be nicer
• Be so generous of my time that I make them feel like they are doing me a favor by letting me help them (I don't know how my mom does this, but trust me, she does)
• Be so thoughtful that all my kids' friends are a little jealous them (hello college care packages!)
• Make sure they know how proud I am of them, so much so that they can count on any tiny little thing to be met with great enthusiasm, so they in turn want to share any tiny little thing with me
• Be so open minded that I can learn things from my kids at any stage in life (I got my mom to start running in her early fifties!)

I'm sure there are a million more wonderful things that I could list about my mother. This week especially has reminded me of how freaking lucky I am. I have been going nonstop to prepare for Run Like a Mother and she has bent over backwards to help. She has spent hours with my kids so that I could work and has also spent hours helping me after that kids have gone to bed. She even scrubbed out my gross recycle bin today while I was out running errands. For real. In fact, she's one of the main reasons I have 15 minutes to blog right now and can actually relax a bit tonight before the weekend hullabaloo commences in the morning!

So Happy Mother's Day, Mom. You've set the bar pretty damn high. Love you :)

It's Late

I should go to bed. I'm almost too tired to move, though. I've been working nonstop on Run Like a Mother today and decided to stay up late getting as much done as possible. So now here I sit, very tired, trying to find the will to get off the couch.

Before I go, I wanted to share something that brought tears to my eyes. Maybe it's because I'm exhausted, but it might be because I agree so wholeheartedly with what I'm about to share with you. For some, Mother's Day just plain sucks. My first Mother's Day card came for me right after I was told I was miscarrying Simon (go figure). I tossed the card and should have skipped church that year. Instead I sat there fighting back the sobs as all the mothers stood up around me. Every Mother's Day since then, I've thought a lot about all those women out there who have come to despise the day and I can't help but cringe during church, wondering who there is sitting down with her eyes closed trying to fast forward until all those moms are seated once again. What is a completely normal, benign day for many can be so painful to others for so many reasons.

I think it's a great day to celebrate of course, but it's also a great day to say an extra prayer for those who have a reason to loathe it. Here's what should be said and done in church (and/or in our minds) every year:

__

From The Messy Middle

Dear Pastor,

Tone can be tricky in writing. Picture me popping my head in your office door, smiling and asking if we could talk for five minutes. I’m sipping on my diet coke as I sit down.

You know that I’m not one to shy away from speaking my mind, part of the reason you love me (mostly!), so I’m guessing that internally you brace yourself wondering what might be next.

I set my can down and this is what I’d say.

A few years ago I sat across from a woman who told me she doesn’t go to church on Mother’s Day because it is too hurtful.  I’m not a mother, but I had never seen the day as hurtful. She had been married, had numerous miscarriages, divorced and was beyond child bearing years. It was like salt in mostly healed wounds to go to church on that day. This made me sad, but I understood.

Fast forward several years to Mother’s Day.  A pastor asked all mothers to stand. On my immediate right, my mother stood and on my immediate left, a dear friend stood. I, a woman in her late 30s, sat. I don’t know how others saw me, but I felt dehumanized, gutted as a woman. Real women stood, empty shells sat. I do not normally feel this way. I do not like feeling this way. I want no woman to ever feel this way in church again.

Last year a friend from the States happened to visit on Mother’s Day and again the pastor (a different one) asked all mothers to stand. As a mother, she stood and I whispered to her, “I can’t take it, I’m standing.” She knows I’m not a mother yet she understood my standing / lie.

Here’s the thing, I believe we can honor mothers without alienating others. I want women to feel welcome, appreciated, seen, and needed here in our little neck of the body of Christ.

1. Do away with the standing. You mean well, but it’s just awkward. Does the woman who had a miscarriage stand? Does the mom whose children ran away stand? Does the single woman who is pregnant stand? A.w.k.w.a.r.d.

2.  Acknowledge the wide continuum of mothering.

To those who gave birth this year to their first child—we celebrate with you

To those who lost a child this year – we mourn with you

To those who are in the trenches with little ones every day and wear the badge of food stains – we appreciate you

To those who experienced loss this year through miscarriage, failed adoptions, or running away—we mourn with you

To those who walk the hard path of infertility, fraught with pokes, prods, tears, and disappointment – we walk with you. Forgive us when we say foolish things. We don’t mean to make this harder than it is.

To those who are foster moms, mentor moms, and spiritual moms – we need you

To those who have warm and close relationships with your children – we celebrate with you

To those who have disappointment, heart ache, and distance with your children – we sit with you

To those who lost their mothers this year – we grieve with you

To those who experienced abuse at the hands of your own mother – we acknowledge your experience

To those who lived through driving tests, medical tests, and the overall testing of motherhood – we are better for having you in our midst

To those who will have emptier nests in the upcoming year – we grieve and rejoice with you

And to those who are pregnant with new life, both expected and surprising –we anticipate with you

This Mother’s Day, we walk with you. Mothering is not for the faint of heart and we have real warriors in our midst. We remember you.

3. Commend mothering for the ways it reflects the Imago Dei (Image of God) by bringing forth new life, nurturing those on her path, and living with the tension of providing both freedom and a safety net.

I know I might be an unusual one to be speaking about Mother’s Day; but maybe that’s why so many talk to me about mothering, I’ve got the parts, just not the goods.  Thanks for listening and for continuing to mother us in a shepherding way. Even though I’m a bit nervous to come on Sunday, I will be here. But if you make us stand, I might just walk out =).

Warmly and in your corner,

Amy

Proof

It's going to be in the 50s today. A week ago, this would have felt like a welcomed heat wave. After a couple super hot days, however, it just feels plain cold.

To cope, I will review these pictures from the last two days several times today. They're proof that real live heat was here and that it will probably come again :)

Warmth

It's almost felt like summer these past few days.

It's been so nice to get outside with the kids and enjoy some fresh air. Gotta love the smell of spring...especially when you now have functioning windows in your kitchen (thanks, Hubs). On Saturday I was tricked into thinking that lots of outdoor fun would mean long afternoon naps for the little one since she rocked a three hour snooze, but I appear to have been sadly mistaken.

For two days in a row now, she has basically not napped at all. Good times. I'm going to choose not to dwell. So anyway, back to the nice weather.

The swings gave Cecie motivation to add a new word to her list..."weeeeee!" It's quite adorable :)

And today Simon and his cousins caught a poor sucker of a frog. It made them quite happy, but I'm sure the frog didn't love being manhandled by four young children. They were, however, pretty respectful of the little guy with the exception of dropping it accidentally a couple of times (but the kids are short so the falls couldn't have been too traumatic, right?).

I look forward to lots of days ahead just like these past few (with the exception of the whole brush with death thing that I'm still trying to force out of my mind). So here's to a warm, SAFE spring and summer!

A different kind of day...

Today could have been different.

--

Yesterday afternoon my neighbor and I decided to walk to the library with Elliot and our kids (Simon, Cecie, K and A). It was a rocky, chaotic start. The kids were either going to fast or too slow and there was a lot of redirection those first few minutes.

K, age 6, was riding his bike and Simon was running alongside him. At one point they collided and Simon went down into some bushes. I was thankful he didn't fall in the direction of the busy street just a couple feet to our left, but still he had several scratches and was hysterical so I told him he had until the count of three to pull himself together or we were going to turn back. I got to three. He took a deep breath, smiled and we moved forward.

The boys raced to the next cross street and stopped to wait for us, as is the rule. We reached them, gave them the all clear to cross and they went ahead. The busy road on our left continued to have a steady flow.

K was back up on the sidewalk by the time were halfway across the street and suddenly he took a sharp left with his bike. Right over the curb. Straight into traffic.

His mother screamed his name in pure terror, a sound I'm not likely to ever forget. Cars were slamming on their brakes as hard as they could. Then crash....crash.

For far too many seconds we couldn't see K at all, the mangled cars were in the way. Was he hit? Was he alive? Where? Was? HE?! After all the cars finally stopped he came peeking around the first car with his bike and a terrified look on his face.

He walked away. By some kind of God given miracle, he walked out of the middle of the street with a line of totaled cars just inches away from him. Relief poured over me in the form of tears as I sat with the other kids while his mother tried to make sense of what just happened.

It took no time at all for countless police cars to arrive on the scene along with a fire truck, ambulance and plenty of spectators. There were three cars that were severely damaged and one woman was taken away on a stretcher. We're told she will be okay.

K saw all the police and thought for sure either he or his mom were going to get arrested. We assured him they wouldn't be, but it continued to be his chief concern until we left. Bryan came to get the dog and the kids so I could walk back with my neighbor; we tried not to lament over the what-ifs, but that was of course impossible.

It is with zero exaggeration that I say this child was within inches of his life. This scene will play over and over in my mind for who knows how long. Every time I think about what we could have seen instead of his scared little face coming out from in front of that first car, I get a wave of emotion and have to just try to block it out.

Thank God that first car was paying attention. Thank God her feet and her breaks were strong. Thank God she wasn't looking at her phone or her radio or out the window or checking her mirrors.

So as I said, today could have been a very different kind of day. So thankful things turned out the way they did...