Time marching onward...

So today is my eldest son's 14th birthday. And I celebrated by taking my 3 year old princess shoe shopping. Doesn't make any sense to me, either, but it was so fun. We went to Target and straight to the little girl summer shoes that were on sale. I just sat on the floor and watched her go from shoe to shoe, as she looked and caressed each one, and said, "O, mama, I love this one. It's my best shoe ever." Until she saw the next glittery pair, then THAT was the best. The cream of the crop was when she found these wedge flip flops (why they are made in this size I haven't the foggiest idea). She slipped them on, and was speechless with delight. She couldn't even walk in them, they were so high. But she wobbled the best she could, put her hands on her hip, and stated, "I WANT these ones. I love these!"

Of course, I didn't get those for her, but I did get her a lower wedge, metallic flip flop, with pink iridescent decorations on them. They were on clearance you know! And I have so gotten soft as the years go by. My eldest daughter was with me today, and just as delighted at watching her little sister as I was. But she was quick to point out that never, when she was 3, did she get to go shoe shopping, let alone get stylish little wedges when she already had a sensible pair of sandals.

I'll never forget how cute and funny she was then. Pleased, pretty and precious.

I had also found a little sun dress on clearance. I asked her what she thought of it. Completely straight faced, she says, "It's perfect."

We didn't end up buying the perfect dress, but I tell you, she is a born shopper.

Now, on to my eldest.

He is a terrific kid. I was a little worried when he was 12, but now I thouroughly enjoy him, and his company, and am amazed at the man he is turning into. This is the year his voice constantly caught me off guard, he surpassed my height, he takes initiative to complete a job around the house and handles things as they come up with out me telling him to. He can make dinner for all his sibling, clean the bathrooms, is the best kitchen cleaner in the house, does his own laundry ~ his future wife can thank me later.

He has simple tastes, simple needs and is kind and funny. How that little bundle of baby grew into this young man I can not fathom. I just marvel at the passage of time, but delight in what it is bringing me.

Happy birthday, my first born. I love you.

warning... this post makes no sense unless you have lots of girls in your home

So now my baby is three years old. My fourth 3 year old girl. Three year old girls are a unique creation. It's like they go from 2 to 12 over night. Strong willed, independent, argumentative, and bossy. But the big difference is at three, they are still oh so cute and chubby. And they are still small enough to be physically picked up and put in bed, or in the corner, or in a chair.

Three year old girls also change clothes a million times a day, and have very strong opinions about what they want to wear, what shoes go with the outfit, and what sort of clip ought to go in her hair.

Three year old girls hardly eat anything in one sitting. And they don't like food they used to love. And they have a terrific pout.

I don't mean to be so negative, but I have already been through 3 other girls, and I am not kidding myself about what I am up against this year.

Also in my experience, three year old girls with clear and enforced boundaries are sweet, cheerful and very energizing. When expectations for their behavior are clearly stated, they strive to please. When given a new task, they devour it with relish, and want more. They notice so many new things about their world, and they are very generous with sharing their insights. Bugs, birds and flowers are the new thrill around here, and it gets me excited all over again about the world I live in.

At three years old, the little ones are aware of their own autonomy, and it thrills and scares them. At twelve years old, I think it is a repeat of that awareness. At this time I have both a three year old daughter and a 12 year old daughter. And I am moving towards 41 years old, which has it's own set of awarenesses to deal with. Between us, and the seven and 11 year old daughters (both a very "sensitive" age), my poor boys haven't a chance around here. And the hormones haven't even begun to flow to full capacity yet. It makes my head spin!

As I type this, my 11 year old daughter just came stomping down the hallway, arms crossed, went to her room and slammed the door. I guess I better stop my reflections on the moods of the girls around here, and go deal with the moods around here. Toodles!

Living with an open hand

I don't know if it was the icon, the fact that many people I know are pregnant, or the fact that I am forty and haven't had a baby in 3 years, but the phrase "open to life" has been bouncing around in my head with increasing trajectory for weeks.

In my history as a mother, not one other question has been asked of me with more frequency and with sincere curiosity than, "How many kids do you think you'll have?"

After about 5 years and 4 children, I landed on an all purpose answer that got my point across, wasn't hostile, and usually ended the line of questioning quickly. The answer?

"I don't know, because my husband and I are open to life."

Interestingly, no one asked me, "What does 'open to life' mean?', which was fortunate, because I am not entirely certain I knew what it meant. At the time it meant being willing to hear the "yes" to new children, even if it was challenging, or I was afraid, or I was feeling overwhelmed.

Eventually, I had to work through the idea of using Natural Family Planning, and if I was still "open to life" at that time. Could I still hear the "Yes" to creation that God was whispering to me? Turns out I could, as we had baby number 6 during that time, and when one leaves a window of opportunity open for God, and He wants something, He uses that window.

Now that I have seven children, and I am nearly 41 years old, being open to life is beginning to mean something else entirely. Something I never imagined. When people ask me now if I think I "am done", I still use the same answer, but a sinking feeling hits me at the same time and whispers, "I might be done." Now, being open to life means being open to hearing "No" to creation. It means not assuming there will always be a baby in our home, and yet, still keeping the ear ready to hear the "yes", in case that should be in God's plan.

I thought it was very challenging to keep my heart open to all the "yeses" God asked of me. I am finding keeping my heart open to the "nos" to be even more difficult. Or should I say, to the "maybes". I can say I do not look forward to 16 weeks of severe nausea, or the inevitable weight gain, or even the long, sleepless nights of the newborn phase. And yet, the thought of never having another one or "our" babies here, no more new combinations of my husband and I to marvel over and love, well, that makes my heart ache.

So now, open to life doesn't mean just being open to a new baby, it means being open to God being finished with the co-creation in our marriage. It means being willing to accept my life in thanks and joy regardless of what God's plans are for me. It means living my life with an open hand, and open heart, and not always having a vision for what my future will bring, and it means believing that God already is there, in my future, giving my all the blessings I need, no matter what they are.

(Photo found here)

**Sniff Sniff***

I forgot to mention we had a birthday celebration last week. Two of my daughters have birthdays on the same day, but 4 years apart. It is very sweet every year to remember their births, as well as to see the bond between them growing as they share this special day. It is getting more and more difficult for me, as the years pass. I hate how quickly they are growing up. I also love how they are growing up, and what they are turning out to be like, but slow down, already.

So now, I have an eleven year old and a seven year old. And to rub salt into the wound, the seven year old lost one of her front teeth today. She'll never look like a little one again. Sigh. And she is my 5th child. Only two more left with all their baby teeth. It's going by too quickly, I tell you.

And, by the way, I hate, detest and despise having the comments turned off. But I will keep them off until Easter. If it kills me.

I finally did it

Today, I finally bit the bullet and cut off my little one's original curls and we went from this:















to this:



For the observant ~ her shirt says " I'm in charge around here. The parents are just for show." I am getting soft in my old age!

Musings

I spent quite a bit of time this weekend looking through old photos of myself and my early motherhood years. My oldest three children were born in just 2.75 years, and honestly those years are a blur in my memory. As I look at their photos, it seems those children have disappeared, vanished as if they walked into the woods one day and never came back. As I look at photos of their mother (could that have been me, really?), the naive, tired, yet hopeful looking woman with her lap full of little children, I ache for all the reality that is yet to impose itself on her.

The reality that those children will quickly grow up, that the ease of caring for them will become much more complicated.

That trying to find the transcendent amongst the daily duties will become a greater and greater challenge, and that entire weeks would pass with barely any thoughts but a practical ones crossing her mind.

That the years of marriage would be far less idyllic that she had imagined and would require far more dying to self than she thought possible.

That the powerful love she feels for her family would always be tinged and surrounded and accosted by fear, powerful, biting fear that these precious ones would be harmed somehow. Harmed by the cruel world, harmed by a careless driver, by the over-tired mother herself, too inexperienced to see the deep need of one of her children.

This young mother was yet to find out just how painful love can be, and yet that pain, the heart aching pain of looking at your family and knowing so deeply how much you love them, is the most real thing there is. There are no veils to soften that pain. It's the ache of love that will only be satisfied in Heaven, where we will finally be free to love without fear.

It makes me sad that I can't love my younger children with the naive love I had for my older children. When my oldest 3 were little, I thought I had all the time in the world. I could willy-nilly wish a day or a week away, and still have so much time to spare.

Now, with my "baby" nearly three years old, I don't want to miss a second. Every new little thing she says and does is tinged with a little sadness along with the wonder and joy of it.

It's all going so quickly, with each succession of days bringing me closer and closer to the time when they will all be gone, and I will have most my life as memories. I know we are not supposed to live either in the past or in the future, but embrace the present moment. But what I know now about the fleeting nature of the present moment make it very difficult to rest in that axiom.

So, that is my prayer for today. Please Divine Physician, and healer of souls, assist me in living in the moment, in Your presence, and guide my heart to be open to all the love you have to give me. Please don't let me close up my heart out of fear of pain. Now, and always, and forever and ever, Amen.

(image found at www.sabatier.de)