Facebook, Comparing, and the Edit Button

Sometimes facebook tips me past the edge of connecting to comparing.  I know when it is coming on.  It is late, I am overtired, and I know I really shouldn't follow that picture to have-it-all-together's-homepage.  But gosh darn it, I let curiosity get the better of me and suddenly I am thinking I could really use a makeover. 

Is her family always that smiley, her life always so wonderful, her home really that darling?

These are real photos, taken by real people, that I really know.  How could it be anything but real?
I know supermodels have personal trainers, personal cooks, and plenty of photoshop.   But my sophomore year locker partner? I wrongly assume what I see is reality.

I'm one week into blogging and I'm already amazed that I can create any reality of who I am that I darn well please.  {Well, except for the fact that mostly my mother and best friends read my blog, that is, and ya'll pretty much know I'm as much a mess as any (and love me still - lucky, lucky me).}

Nevertheless, for that gracious reader who has never met me, I can highlight all my culinary successes and you would never know I have been fumbling my way through the kitchen the last 8 years.  I can highlight this season of mothering - which I really do love - and you would never know that just a year ago this month my husband left work in the middle of his day to rescue me from mothering mayhem.  If I am feeling particularly vulnerable, maybe I'll go there in another post, but honestly, I would much rather relax on the couch and post all the fun pictures of what we are doing that we like around here.

And come on, do you really want to know that I stepped over this giant mess to make my grateful tree?

 

Okay, maybe you do.  Sometimes I do.  Without the after/ look-how-darling-I-made-this-once-ugly-space photo.  I had high hopes to turn this space into an organized entry way.  Sigh.  But I pick grateful trees with my boys, books on the couch, and spending my evenings blogging instead. 

 

Thank God there is an edit button in cyberspace and a grace button in reality.  Lord knows we need both.

 

January's Sand Castles

After my pep talk to myself in "Winter's Fight", I decided to put my resolve to the test and venture out into the cold again.  My oldest son was begging me for some playtime outside, and we discovered there is fun to be had in 5 degrees after all.

It didn't hurt that the sun was out because, cold or no cold, I'm a sucker for the sun.

Besides that, I'm now 6 posts in and I haven't added a single pictures of my cuties.  What a waste of having my own mom blog :)

For the day, I wondered if I mislabeled Winter as stingy.  My husband thinks I neurotically either hate or love things, no mediocre emotions in between.  There must be truth to what he says, because, for a few tender moments yesterday, I thought I might love Winter.  

 

 

 

 

(affectionately called sand castles by my boys.  made with flower pots still sitting in my yard )

 

 

After trying out snow angels and snowballs C, my creative builder, decided to take our nicely stacked wood pile and turn it into a fort.  I vacillated between creative mom and controlling mom.  I'm thankful creative won out on this one:

 

 

 

 

 

Winter's Fight

 

 

 

I’m determined to not let winter get the best of me. It’s  attempting to drag any sense of sanity out of me, shoving me into our four walls and locking me there for days on end.

The snow has been drizzling down for three days straight (lake effect snow they call it here in Michigan) and this crazy state does not plow roads. Even a drive to the grocery store requires much determination in this insane month.

So I’m digging my heals in and fighting back.
Finding the hidden gifts in this stingy season. I’m fighting back with gratitude and second glances.

 

In a moment of occupied kids, I grabbed my camera, every piece of winter apparel I could find, and no more than five minutes to look more closely.  That, along with my goal to GET THAT CAMERA OUT OF AUTO MODE, changed my eyesight, and my lens ushered me into a world of gratitude for all things winter (okay, let's be realistic here, some things winter).

Who knew an electric box could proclaim winter's beauty with snow piling high?

 

 

 

 

 

I was not exaggerating.  They really do NOT plow:

 

 

Today we settled in with a card game.

 

All this week I have been snuggling on the coach with books and boys, amazed that such leisure is in my job description.

 

I'm going to relish warm soups and winter evenings, like tonight, when the cold invites me to leave my million house projects undone and to prop my feet up under homemade quilts to type instead.

 

Winter, winter, winter.  I promise you will never have my affection like summer.  All the same, I am determined to befriend you.  You will not get the best of me yet.

A Letter to My Son

In the last few months I came across a precious birthday facebook post to a grown daughter, articulating the things that made her, well, her, and a random blog - I would not even know where to find - filled with letters to her children.  

Both left me inspired to do the same.

I want few things more than for my boys to know I am crazy about them.  If only I could wrap them up forever in the safety of my love.  But alas, I have to release them to this crazy world.  So why not blanket them in words of who they are, how much I love them, and what they can offer the world? 

For Charles Henry, and for the hope of inspiring someone else to write their own.

December 4, 2012

Dear Charles Henry,

Happy five and a half. You are officially closer to 10 years old than you are to newborn. (Yikes!)

Did you know your Daddy and I are crazy about you? We are. Words can’t begin to describe.
In fact, we are so thrilled to celebrate you, that unlike normal people who celebrate birthdays, we even want to celebrate you on your half birthday! We are looking for ways to let you know how completely thrilled we are that you were born!

This last half year has been such a milestone. You nervously began your first organized sport and even ended the season with your first goal. You bravely ventured to kindergarten and come home filled with new knowledge that has been passed down to you from someone other than me. You are growing up.

You are such a helpful big brother. Sometime I hear your voice change to a soft, nuturing voice as you say “Nolan, Nolan, do you know how to say ‘very good’ in Spanish?” He does not, of course, so you are quick to teach him. Last night I sent you both upstairs to get your pjs on and you both came down ready for bed. You had taken on a big brother role and helped your brother get dressed for bed.

I am so proud of you, Charles Henry, as I watch you become less of a child, and more of a boy.

The “naughty” boy at school has declared you his favorite friend at school, in fact, you seem to be somewhat of his only friend. You are unsure about this, since you don’t like how he is “naughty”, but yet, his declaring you his favorite friend says something about your character. That you are kind and inclusive. That you don’t shun or shame people who act inappropriately.

You have a kind, sensitive spirit.

You enjoy learning and are full of curious questions. You love helping and doing things as a team. You love crafts and become absorbed in a craft project for long lengths of time, spreading your work through the entire room as you create your masterpiece. You seem to enjoy organizing. You love anything that is done in relationship - laundry, baking, games, even cleaning up - if it is done with someone you care about. You are appropriately cautious about new things, but thrive when you know what is expected about you.

You are you. Daddy and I will continue to give input into who you are and help shape who you become, but ultimately you are you, and we couldn’t be more thrilled to have a you be part of the us of our family.

We love you, forever and always.
Happy five and a half.

Just Because it Makes Me Laugh

  "The most wasted of all days is one without laughter," says ee cummings.

   For a :53 chuckle, free of charge:

        (ps. thanks michelle)

Veggies and Velociraptors

 

Who said you can’t play with your food?

I’m ever on the lookout for how to cram more veggies, veggies, veggies down my kids’ throats -- with the least amount of resistant.

Dinner will offer some results, with a ratio of 5 “please eat your vegetables” comments to 1 consumed bite of vegetables.  Given a plate filled with the option to choose something other than vegetables, the peas and carrots are going to lose every time.

So I’m trying to get creative.  And I’ve resorted to dinosaurs.  Meticulously placed at the edge of the table chomping on cucumbers and green peppers.  Reeling them in like a fish to bait.  And it worked!   Bait taken!  They giggled at the dinosaurs then pretended to be dinosaurs themselves, complete with chomping.  I couldn’t have scripted it better myself.  Until the dinosaurs started flying through the air and veggie bowls were spilling to the floor and AH!  enough!   Not the most thought through idea.

My other ridiculous, but somehow successful ideas include:

*Synchronized eating
We came up with this last summer during, you might guess, the Olympics synchronized swimming.   We all grab a veggie and on the count of three chomp on them simultaneously.  We tried this on cousins on two separate occasions.  The first loved it and wanted to participate at each meal.  The other, my four year old niece, gave me a look that said it all: “Do you think I was born yesterday?  You think you can make up some ridiculous game and expect me to suddenly eat that.”  Well, it was worth a try.

*Movie muchies
There is something about sitting watching a movie that allows humans to keep sticking things in their mouths with no thought to what is being consumed.   Which is why many of us can end up eating an entire bag of chips without noticing.  So when my kids are engrossed in a show, I know it is the perfect time to plop a bowl of snap peas on their laps.  They eat them without giving it a second thought!

*Creative Play
Just this week we were able to get my two year old to eat a brussel sprout when Daddy suggested they were frog eyes (not completely unlike their resemblance).  Granted, he didn’t eat any more after that, but it was a success nonetheless.  We’ve pretended to be giraffes reaching tall into the trees to eat broccoli leaves and pretended grape tomatoes are volcanoes exploding in our mouths when we bite them.  

*The Recipe Sneak
Pumpkin muffins and spinach in smoothies (really, with enough sweet fruit, you can't taste the stuff) have both made the list of "sneak-it-in-without-them-knowing-recipes."  While I am not sure  it is the best long term way of giving them culinary appreciation for vegetables, it succeeds in pumping in the veggies.  At this stage in life, I'll take any "sneak-em-in" recipes I can find. 

This is all not to say I am always successful at getting my boys to eat veggies.  If anything, it’s admitting that I hang upside down from the ceiling fan trying to figure out how to have them actually get some nutrition into their bodies.  Because, in my opinion, it really does matter what they eat.  It certainly isn’t the end all, be all.  But it does matter. 

A dear mentor told me that I, as the mom, am responsible for shaping my kids’ palettes.  I am the gatekeeper for what food comes through the doors of our home and I am in charge of introducing my kids to the world of healthy food and preparing them to be healthy, world saving, supermen.

So what have you tried?  Any sneak-em-in recipes you would recommend? 
I’d love to borrow your ideas.

Hammering Gratitude

“That habit of discontentment can only be driven out by hammering in one iron sharper. The sleek pin of gratitude. I hammer” – Ann Voskamp

I have hammering to do in 2013.

By far, the most impactful read for me of 2012 was  Ann Voskamp's "One Thousand Gifts."  Ever  on the lookout to name the every day gifts around her, she hammers out discontentment by ushering in a new habit - of gratitude, of joy. 

Oh, that discontentment wouldn’t rear it’s ugly head in my life so frequently.  And it’s not disappearing on willpower alone. 

So hammering it is.  I'm looking to name gifts.  To speak joy.  And I've invited my five year old to join me, to start making the habits now, while he is small.  We have begun with three a day (times 365 brings us to just over 1,000 gifts in 2013)

I'm thrilled just walking past our latest idea of solidifying gifts.  I'm noticing this one little act of speaking and writing three things each day shifts my focus to notice other things, unspoken and unwritten, throughout the day.

Here it is, our latest wall hanging, that last month held Christmas cards and this month holds written evidences of gifts and of gratitude:

Nothing quite contributes to my grateful heart than watching my five year old write down his own list of gratitude, especially, for goodness sakes, when I'm part of them.  sigh. 

His list: "My whole family, that God is always with me, and - of course - dessert (because what gratitude list would be complete without dessert?)"

And..."Playing Sequence with Mommy."  Stab me in the heart right now.  

Even my two year old joined the fun, prompted with "Nolan, what are you happy about?"

"The practice of giving thanks...eucharisteo...this is the way we practice the presence of God, stay present to His presence, and it is always a practice of the eyes. We don't have to change what we see. Only the way we see.” -Ann Voskamp 

Here’s to sight in 2013.  To true sight.