Lydia J Will

Gratitude Sunday

2013-05-19T09:00:00.000-04:00

My dear friend Amy has recently begun a link up for Gratitude Sunday, a practice that I very much need to get back into. There is so much to be thankful for in this life of ours, and joy comes from looking around and noticing how blessed we are. Please consider joining in the fun - you may just find that in counting down those many blessings you become even more blessed.

For today,

So thankful for those who read, who comment, who email and who mention these writings of mine. I know that this internet world is a big place, and I am humbled that you stumbled upon me and take the time to look around. It's no small thing that you do - it means the world to me. Thankful, then, for all of you.

I'm thankful for that messy, weed-infested yard of mine. So much work to be done, some days it makes me want to bury my face in my hands and cry. But then I hear Peter conversing with ants over there on that rock and I find myself offering up gratitude for this patch of dirt and grass. A place, all ours, for our kids to begin their conversations with nature.

I'm thankful for my Mom, ready and willing to help in all situations, helping my Dinah with her reading. It's a huge undertaking, the unlocking of a lifelong passion in a young person. I'm thrilled that when I asked, she answered with a resounding "YES!"

I'm thankful for the safe and happy arrival of my newest love, Lyriel Joy, to my dearest childhood friend. From the top of her sweet fuzzy head, past the dimple that stole my heart and right to the soles of these silk-smooth little feet, she is perfection. Sometimes I look at 19 years of friendship and the beautiful things that have come about along the way, and wonder that God should be so good to us. 10 beautiful children. What a breathtaking miracle!

I'm thankful for the friends who inspire me to step out of my comfort zone and aim for my dreams. For those who inspired and encouraged me to start daily prayers and bible readings with my little ones. For those who nudge me to throw of my discomfort and humbly learn the art of hospitality. For all those who encourage me to keep growing in all the areas I need to grow, I'm so truly thankful.

For these late Spring days, the sun and the warmth and the plentiful moments spent exploring the world with the people I love the very most, as if it were the first time we'd ever encountered it.

For this Sunday, and every day! I am exceedingly grateful.

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Outsourced Learning

2013-05-16T09:00:00.002-04:00

She skips out the kitchen door at 7:59, across the back yard and down the path Grandpa laid by hand a few years back. She stops just before reaching Grandma's back door, turns and waves at me. From my kitchen window, I wave back before she disappears inside.

It's 8 am, and she's off for her reading lesson.

It's been 3 years since we started learning to read, and from the get go there were signs that she needed something different. Something without the chaos that seems to follow me everywhere, yes even into those schooling hours. We struggled back and forth, both of us dreading the lessons, fraught with frustration. I would try this curriculum or that, different "I Can Read" books to catch her attention. I tried just reading to her, a gentle approach. I tried phonics and sight words. Toward the end of this, her 2nd grade year, I had to admit - we needed outside help.

My husband suggested she might do better in school, but from what I had seen, she needed more one on one time - not less. More time in a quiet place, working with someone to figure it all out. The few moments we could find together were almost always interrupted by people needing me in one way or another. Toddlers crying, big kids wanting this or that, babies nursing. It was plain that the issue did not lie with any learning disability, but a combination of the will to work and learn something that did not come easily, and the lack of quiet alone time to figure it all out.

I agonized about it. Prayed about it. Felt so much guilt about it all. And then, I sought help with one of the best teachers I've ever known - my own Mom.

They started this week and after each lesson, it's a miracle: My girl is smiling. She's looking forward to doing it again, tomorrow. And I smile back, knowing that she'll be just fine. Homeschooling is not about me being the teacher of every little thing. It's about finding what works, what is right for each individual child. I daresay this is the first of many times I will outsource my children's learning to people who are able to make it work better than I at any given point. And while, for a moment, I grieved my inability to be what she needs in this way at this time, I know it's not about me. For today, being a good mother and teacher to her means sending her to someone else.

At 9:01 she comes bursting through that back door, out of breath, ready to join the rest of us for bible and morning prayers, the tell tale signs of a chocolatey reward around her mouth. She surprises me with a hug and as I look down at her, I know we're going to be just fine.

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Raising Children

2013-05-15T10:46:00.000-04:00

I really need to get to those garden boxes. They need to be cleaned out and planted by this weekend. There have been a few surprises - the onions that I left in their beds last year are already thriving, and two chard plants that were gnawed down to nothing by a groundhog last year have come back to life as well. A friend gave me some tomato plants and zucchini, so I am definitely looking forward to planting - knowing full well that groundhog will most likely be back and feasting in no time.

These are my hopes anyway - not about the groundhog, but the plans for planting. The truth may very well be different. This weekend is ballet recital, and baseball practice, and celebrating my husband's birthday. Adding into that mix the general raising of children and keeping of home and, well, if anything additional happens it will be a small miracle.

My neighbors likely know me as the woman living in a shoe - kids all over the place and I scarcely know where to begin. We're loud, too - I'm hollering out the window for the big ones to mind Peter and shouting over the roar of the mower to Ben that he missed a spot. The kids shriek while running around the yard, swinging on swings, doing those kid things that they do. I admire the bouquets of dandilions brought to me, push kids higher and higher and yes, even higher on the swings, and sip water out of a mason jar in the evenings when they dash about the yard, playing ball with their Dad. The truth is, I'm raising kids here - a bumper crop, too.

It can all result in me feeling pulled in multiple directions at once. When I'm outside, my inside jobs don't get done. When I'm inside, the little ones are begging to be taken out! Striking a balance between both worlds can be a struggle. Spread so thinly, all areas are less than they could be if I had just a little more time, a little less laundry. So I zero in on what matters the very most - the raising of people. It's my main job, after all.

So my garden will pale in comparison to most everyone else's. The weeds will sprout big and tall, growing right along side those 6 kids of mine. Anything that manages to grow despite the groundhog's best efforts will be gobbled by children without seeing so much as a dinner plate. And I'll be overseeing it all in the way that I do - baby on my back, surveying the scene of a messy yard and 5 madcap little ones racing all over.

My primary job is in the raising of children. And that's precisely what I plan to do.

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Afternoons with Rosie {Mindful Mothering Monday}

2013-05-13T07:16:00.000-04:00

6 weeks ago, I woke with that sense of knowing as only a Mother can know - the time was drawing near. Less than 24 hours, Rosemary was in my arms and her name forever stamped on my heart with the other five - my precious tribe. She joined 3 brothers and 2 sisters and the madness of life in this big family.

Daddy stayed home a full week and up in my room, Rosie and I got to know each other. In the weeks since, that little bedroom under the eaves has continued to be a kind of sanctuary for us. These days, she's growing bigger and stronger, testing out smiles and spending more time awake than before.

The mornings dawn fast and furious and is filled with dishes and laundry and walks and toddlers and all that goes in the managing of this large family. But in the afternoon, while Peter takes his nap, Rosie and I retreat, too. She sleeps best in my arms and I read or watch her or nod off, myself. I take the time to notice, to marvel and to savor this person who has already changed so much.

I make that time for just the two of us, acknowledging that the helplessness of a human baby makes this much clear - my job right now is her complete care. Anything else is secondary. I can forget that sometimes, in the rush and crush of so many chores and responsibilities. Her needs are my top priority. Anything else can wait.

There is something miraculous about it all. I'm getting to know her likes and dislikes, and long before she'll speak her first word, Rosie and I begin to communicate. This person I didn't know 6 weeks ago is now in my inner circle, fiercely loved, protected and valued above relationships I've had for years. It's like magic, how this is all designed to work. Even on my 6th time around, I'm still amazed at how deep and fast a Mama can fall for a tiny, helpless little slip of a human.

At 6 weeks old, she's moving out of the newborn stage and solidly into baby mode. In the quiet of a spring afternoon, I'm treasuring it all up in my heart, a gift to keep with me forever. I inhale her and fall even more deeply in love.

{It's Mindful Mothering Mondays, a day to take a deep breath and write out your mothering journey, whatever form it takes. A day to link up for encouragement from others who are in this same phase of life. A day of writing out the trials and triumphs and what you're learning right where you are, right now.

You might post recent struggles or thoughts. Maybe just a picture or a quote. Or maybe you'll just come here and read the links that others post. Whatever form your participation takes, this is a day for you.
We are all in this, together. Together, we can encourage and build one another up, be honest with our shortcomings and strengthened by community to keep fighting the good fight.

I chose Mondays because what Mama doesn't need a little encouragement on a Monday? As such, I'll have the link up ready to go on Sunday night for you to begin submitting your links.

I hope you'll meet with me each Monday! Here's what to do ~

Link up your post below. Remember to put the link to the exact post you want to link, and not just your blog url. Include in your post a link back here so others who want to join in can find us! And visit some other Mamas who have linked up.

Post the community graphic within your post, so people who are reading your Mindful Mothering post can come back here and find the rest of us!

Invite the writers of your favorite blogs to join in!

Share this meme with others on facebook and twitter. This community is for all moms, and the more that participate, the more we will be able to enjoy!!}

Grab the graphic here:

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Free and Easy Days

2013-05-10T12:33:00.002-04:00

Our last bit of Springtime company headed home on Wednesday, and as I cleaned up the breakfast dishes on Thursday morning, everything felt so very - open, somehow. With a new baby in the house this Spring, our schooling rhythm has already changed quite a bit, before our usual end date of Memorial Day. This year I am contemplating how to continue to incorporate just a smidge of formal learning into our summer days - sneaking it in without much notice from the kids, if all goes well. I think it can be accomplished, even while keeping our Spring and Summer days free and easy.

I must say, these days do feel breezier than before. We don't do many outside activities and do spend most days at home, but just the relaxing of my daily expectations really feels great. Taking walks whenever possible. Reading books and heading down the street for a library and ice cream date. Aiming to have friends over at least once per week. Weekend hikes with Daddy and of course evenings at the ballpark or just relaxing in the back yard with family. I love the feeling of being up for anything, when a friend swings by unexpectedly in the morning and I just start that coffee maker right back up and fall in for a nice long chat. It makes sense, I think, to change pace with the seasons. It feels right for now.

Today I took a little walk around my parents yards while trying to get Rosie to fall asleep in the wrap (one of her favorite places for a quick snooze). Dad had mentioned a day or so ago that the dogwood was in bloom and I wanted to get a few pictures before she faded away. Growing up, there was a crab apple tree in this spot - I don't remember what happened to it, but Mom always wanted a white dogwood there. She finally bought the dogwood, but the nursery messed up and gave her pink instead of white, something we didn't realize until the following spring. I was secretly pleased - I like the pink ones best, anyway.

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Enough Love

2013-05-09T10:04:00.000-04:00

The first baby I ever loved had deep brown eyes and the sweetest little mouth - we all thought he looked like a turtle and spent untold energy coaxing a smile from that quiet, contented baby. He wasn't officially named for a week after he was born, but these days my kids call him Uncle Jy (Elijah). I was nearly 5 when he was brought home, my Mama's fifth baby and final son. I adored him.

I don't remember ever feeling displaced by him - or competitive with him for affection. My Mom was amazing - although I know now she must have been exhausted at times, overwhelmed and just plain spent, she always had enough love for all of us.

Elijah was the first baby I ever loved; then came Esther, and after a few years, Prisca. My baby sister turned 7 the month before my first ever baby of my very own was born. In a way, I've loved babies my entire life - babies, and the people they become.

Loving others is a gift - one planted in me from childhood. I saw my Mom, the hard work she put in each day, growing and loving us kids. I also saw how loving us blessed her. It was plain to all who knew her that she considered being a Mom to be the greatest thing that ever happened to her, despite the long hours and endless work involved. To Mom, love was an action - and she loved us.

It's all of these years later and I leave that mess of breakfast dishes in the sink when I hear her calling out to me, my sixth little one. I gather her up and she quiets almost immediately, her mouth finding my neck, blowing little raspberries and telling me all her troubles. I lay her out on the bed and we take one another in. A gurgle, a half smile, she sees me. I'm just a puddle.

Peter comes up and joins me and together we change her, marvel at her tiny hands and feet and snuggle up all together, the three of us. And I am so tired. And overwhelmed. And at times? Spent. But I've got enough love for all of these people. It's the one thing that never runs out. From the first baby I've loved to the last, the magic is that I still love each and every one - more and more each day. Not one is replaced, all are perfectly themselves and I'm caught in the knowing that there will always be enough. For everyone.

All of this giving to others - yet still I end up the one blessed. It's a miracle, really, how the more love you give out, the more grateful and blessed you become in the end.

My kids find us, one by one, and I can see it in them - starting their own list of people they love. And that, right there, that's a gift.

"A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another." John 13:34-35

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Early Mornings and Lilacs

2013-05-08T07:34:00.000-04:00

We're seeing a shift of sorts around here lately. With the sun setting so late in the day, my kids are staying up late. When they stay up late, I tire out early, but get up early. So I'm still getting a little bit of alone time, it's just now in the morning before the hooligans awake. It works for me - these Springtime mornings are such beautiful, quiet, special spaces to inhabit. I saw a woodpecker this morning in the tree out front and will hopefully spy him again later. I walked around our yard and made a mental checklist of the millions or so things I need and want to do. And, of course, I sat quietly for a bit, sipping coffee and knitting.

We've had family in town for the last 2ish weeks, so anything extra has really been pushed aside. Blogging, cleaning, and of course, knitting. So I'm still working on that little dress I blogged about two weeks ago. To be fair to myself, it's in fingering weight and will take a while. I love the pattern, and am already thinking up ways to make another with different stitches in the front panel. Bee stitch? A cable? So many possibilities. I also started a pair of overalls for a friend's little one. That pattern requires a bit more concentration from me as I don't know it well enough to just carry it around and work on it - which means it is even slower going than this dress. But it's coming along.

During my wanderings this morning, I noticed that the lilac tree back by our garage is going to bloom for the very first time. Back when we moved in 7 years ago, my husband accidentally weed whipped to death the tiny transplanted lilac my mom was coaxing to life, much to her frustration. (He's much more careful around plants now). Over the past few years it's been growing, but this is the first year I've noticed budding.

Joining in with Ginny today, yarning along. What are you up to?

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Today's Treasures {Mindful Mothering Mondays}

2013-05-06T09:16:00.000-04:00

"Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven..."

Matthew 6:19-20

I can hear them outside, the wild whoops of kids in sunshine, the joyful noise that just seems to bubble right up and out. From up here in the bedroom, I can see my girls pumping on the swings, already with a bit of tan on those legs, long hair tossed back as they go - back and forth and back and forth.

In my hands is a tiny dress - navy blue taffeta and velvet. The years stuffed in the back of the closet have not been kind, and here and there are signs of the passing of time. I remember seeing this little dress in the store, a 20 year old Mama with her first ever baby girl. I remember balking at the price tag - it just wasn't in the budget, no matter how much I wanted it for her special Christmas dress. I left the store empty handed that day, the dress left hanging in it's place as busy shoppers pushed past in their pursuit of Christmas deals. We went home to our little apartment and I put the idea out of my mind. She would have to wear something else, a hand me down from a cousin or something found in a second hand shop after all.

Weeks passed and on a snowy day, just a few days before Christmas Eve, I found myself back at that brightly lit mall. I wandered past that little dress again, just for the fun of it. I loved the little peter pan collar, and how it was different than all the other Christmas dresses - blue instead of green and red and white. There was only one dress left, ironically in the size I would have bought. It was then that I noticed a red tag hanging above - Clearance.

I brought that dress home that day, for $5. Clearance along with a store-wide sale worked it all out to an affordable price. She wore it to our family Christmas Eve party. Somehow I didn't manage to get a picture of her - 9 months old, decked out in navy blue. I can't even remember how it looked on her.

It's 8 years later and I'm going through these overflowing closets and drawers, trying to make room for our growing family. My 3rd daughter is the 6th baby, and we just can't hold on to everything. The dress is in poor condition and it makes no sense to hold onto it. I put it in the donation bag and continue on with the process.

The truth is, holding onto a little dress my little girl wore one time will not keep her small. I can hear her outside now, singing at the top of her lungs with her little sister, every day growing bigger and stronger and older. I could save the dress. Put it in a box, shove it back to the back of the closet, give it space in my home and life - but for what? To pull it out every few years, look at it, put it back? A life lived always looking backward is a life that misses out on the now. I could spend my time stroking velvet and taffeta and dreaming about what was once upon a time, or I can live fully in the gift of the present. Instead of missing the 9 month old, enjoying the 8 year old.

I carry the donation bag downstairs and add it to the growing stash in the front hall. The girls run in, breathless and beautiful and ask for a popsicle. They aren't babies and that's ok and I nod my yes and watch them tumble back out into the sunshine. Soaking up today. And I head out to join them.

Grab the graphic here:

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Room for Two {A Tandem Nursing Story}

2013-05-03T08:27:00.000-04:00

I've had a lot of "I'll never"'s as a parent. I remember when I had two babies, saying "Well, I'll breastfeed and wear my babies, but I'll never cloth diaper." I cloth diapered our next baby and each one since, in some capacity. With the third I said "Well, I'll breastfeed, wear my baby and cloth diaper, but I would never birth at home." The fourth, fifth and sixth babies have been welcomed here in my own bedroom, yes, intentionally. With my fifth I said "Well, I'll breastfeed, wear my babies, cloth diaper and homebirth, but I will never nurse two babies."

Well, guess what?

Things change.

I wanted 6 children, a lovely, even number. After Peter, I never once said "we're done," because I've been at this mothering thing long enough to know that sometimes planning out your life can mean missing out on some of the best gifts life has to offer. That being said, I was not ready when we found out about our little Rosemary when Peter was just one year old, meaning that they would be under two years apart. As close as my first two were, yes, but then my parenting style has changed quite a bit since then.

I aim to nurse my babies until around their second birthday, as recommended by the World Health Organization. Our number 6 baby arriving when Peter was 20 months old meant I would either have to abandon that thought, or I would have to nurse two - tandem nursing. I wanted to savor Peter's time as a baby, yes, even when a new little one came along, so I began to look into tandem nursing for the first time.

Ask anyone who has tandem nursed about their experiences, and you'll get a mixed bag of sentiments. From "It was the worst decision I ever made!" to "I loved it and treasured that time together," it seems to me that everyone has a slightly different take on it. As I had never juggled a newborn and a toddler nursing before, the thought made me more than a little nervous. I decided to wait to decide and see nursing went during my pregnancy.

The night Rosemary was born, Peter woke up shortly after. Jason brought him into my room and in the wee hours of the morning, I introduced him to his new sister. He kissed her and patted her and smiled so big - and was then ready to nurse. For him, the comfort of our nursing relationship eased him through these first few weeks of big brotherhood. His gentle and happy nature has held strong and he has welcomed Rosie into the family. When we nurse all together, he strokes her hair or holds her hand (and yes, my Mama's heart catches at the sight!). When we have our separate moments together, we are reveling in our own unique and precious relationship with each other.

For us, tandem nursing has been a blessing, has allowed me to continue to "baby" my little Peter and has smoothed out our journey from a family of 7 to a family of 8.

I don't know when Peter will wean, but I'm not worried. For now we are taking it one day at a time and it is working out better than I could have anticipated. For me, the benefits have been marvelous - not only close, precious moments with my two littlest, but no engorgement or tenderness. I feel great and nursing a newborn has never been more simple. My biggest concern was Rosemary gaining enough weight, but a trip to the doctor has shown that she is certainly getting enough, growing very well.

So add this to my list of "I'll Never"'s that I've left behind. And remind me? Not to say "I'll Never" ever again!

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The Best Days of My Life

2013-05-01T09:32:00.001-04:00

Once upon a time, there were two little girls.

Their hair was long and their eyes were brown. The picked blue flowers in the spring and rode bikes all summer long. They sang in the mirror, each one taking a turn lip-synching to the voice of the other. They fought like cats and dogs and shared a bed on cold nights when it just seemed to make sense. When the little one got scared and "turned green" with fear, the older one was always there. They hung upside down to imagine a world that way. They cut out pictures from magazines and created their own dream houses out of cardboard boxes. They loved ballet and ice cream and read books and played paper dolls. Sometimes they piled into the hammock and did nothing at all.

Once upon a time, there were two.

And now?

Two grown girls, eyes brown still, one with short hair and the other still long. Maybe a few greys hiding here and there. Still love ice cream and flip through magazines, dreaming of that ever elusive dream house. Only now we dance with babies in our arms to the sound of birds chatting in those pre-dawn moments when all else is still. Once there were two but now there are eight, the babies we've welcomed in the years since those early days of childhood. We place our latest loves in our own Mother's arms, born just days apart, and my heart feels so full I can hardly breathe. This may just be it - the happiest moments of my life.

These days all seem like a blur, starting bright and early and fresh and ending with that bone tired feeling known only by those who live a full life - full of work and service and fun and all the other stuff that makes life...life.

My oldest tells me he can't wait to be a teen, to be old enough to drive, to watch the movies he wants, to be his own boss. That will be "the best days of my life," he says, shouldering his bat bag and heading out to baseball practice. I smile and remember feeling the same way. I say "enjoy your childhood, it's really the best and most free time." It's not until later that I think about it and wonder...

Maybe the best time of life is when you come, on your own, to a place of appreciation for the life you have. Whether you are 9 or 90, that moment when you look at what is and can't help but give thanks. Maybe I'm in the best time of life, yes, even here with those 3 loads of laundry a day and endless cooking and baking and care-taking. Maybe the years lived serve as a lens by which I can examine those around me...and love them all the more.

My sister, always my best friend, pushing my nephew on the swing my back yard. I gather up my own brood and run out to join her.

And these are the best days of my life.

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Childlike Faith {Mindful Mothering Mondays}

2013-04-29T10:50:00.003-04:00

“Because children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, therefore they want things repeated and unchanged. They always say, "Do it again"; and the grown-up person does it again until he is nearly dead. For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony. But perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony. It is possible that God says every morning, "Do it again" to the sun; and every evening, "Do it again" to the moon. It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike; it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never got tired of making them. It may be that He has the eternal appetite of infancy; for we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we.”

― G.K. Chesterton

This weekend, Rosemary was baptized into our Christian Faith. We are members of the Lutheran church
(LCMS) and infant baptism has been an important part of our family life since the very beginning. Standing before the baptismal fount with a brand new, limited edition human child in my arms, giving them over to God - it defines my role as their mother. My job is clear, terrifyingly huge in scope but crystal clear in mission.

We are blessed with a Pastor with an appreciation and respect for the family unit. In our talks before Rose's baptism, he told me, rather than asking, that all the children should come up. During the baptism, he impressed on my little ones that the role of encouraging their sister's faith was a job for them as well - not just for Mom and Dad and all the grown ups in the congregation. I thought about it, back in the pew, trying to keep little ones contained and behaving, trying to keep the rustling to a minimum, shushing and encouraging them to just keep it together til the end of the service. Sometimes we adults are just so mired in the work of living that we forget the Joy of it. Children know. They see the joy and the beauty and majesty of God everywhere they look. Perhaps they are equally equipped to encourage one another in faith?

Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these."

Matthew 19:14

Monday dawns and in the mad dash that follows a weekend spent doing fun and happy things, it can all look a bit grim. Kids are wigglier during bible time, less quiet and somber than I'd like, and there is generally more interruption. It all can (and does) exasperate a Mom who, let's be honest, sometimes just wants to get through bible and on to the rest of the to do list. But in their childishness, these kids require me to take the extra time, sometimes reading the lesson over several times to make sure all are listening...but am I?

Theirs is the kingdom. These wiggly, noisy, interrupting kids. Theirs. They get it right, it's in the living of a life, not the checking off of lists or going through the motions, but the wild and often unruly exuberance of truly LIVING, that we see the richness of faith in God.

Ben snuggles Rosie while we pray the Lord's Prayer and I can hear his voice, whispering Jesus' words right down into her heart.

Grab the graphic here:

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A Day with Grandpa...PFHR

2013-04-26T15:37:00.001-04:00

Today is bright and beautiful. I've been preparing for a busy family filled weekend. My Dad took the day off work to help with my kids. Last night, he came by with an itinerary - written out carefully in his normally unreadable handwriting so that the kids could see - a day starting with pancakes for breakfast, then off on trailblazing adventures, lunch at a drive in, a salamander hunt. As a Dad to 7 and Grandpa to 9, he knows that the trick to keeping kids engaged it a well thought out plan, divided into 30 minute segments.
He is, in short, a pro at child-wrangling. He had them from 830 AM all the way until 330, and they had a wonderful time. They all returned dirty, tired and happy, with a report of excellent behavior . It was a lovely gift to all of us.

And now? Onward into the weekend! Wishing you all bright sunshiney days and lots of lovely time with family. I'll be soaking up the moments here with some special people of my own.

(Note: I do believe this is my first ever post with all 6 children pictured!)

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Birthday Yarn and Baptisms {Yarn Along}

2013-04-24T08:43:00.000-04:00

These last 3 weeks have been a complete blur. Rosemary is what I consider to be a high needs baby - which really just mean she wants to be with her Mama all the time. Which, of course, makes a lot of sense, given she was on the inside just 3 short weeks ago! Still, it's been an adjustment for me - my last few babies have been so incredibly easy as newborns. This weekend we are having her baptism and will have some family in town. My normal preparing for company rituals have been completely derailed according to her needs and wants - that is to say, the house is a disaster, the laundry piled up, no time to make meals ahead and no idea how I am going to pull this off. At this point I am realizing that it is time for me to put humility to the test and truly just let it be and hope that I'll be given the grace I need to get through the remainder of the week.

As a result, knitting has of course been on the back burner...except that I can sometimes knit a few rows when Rosemary sleeps on my chest in the evenings. I cast on for this Rio dress in a size 6 month with some yarn I got for my birthday (knitpicks swish tonal, fingering weight). I keep checking my gauge because the dress seems tiny, but it's right on. I'm hoping it blocks a little larger, but I guess we'll see. Please forgive the photos, it's rainy and overcast today - no good light to be found! Because this dress is knit in fingering weight, it moves quite a bit slower than other things...but I guess that is the pace of life for right now. Slowly.

As for reading, I haven't read anything for myself, including the book I was making my way through. I have been reading aloud to the kids, the second book in the Indian in the Cupboard series, "Return of the Indian," and one of the sequels to Mrs. Piggle Wiggle, "Mrs. Piggle Wiggle's Magic." Read alouds are mostly all I can manage with them these days, with Rosie sleeping in my arms and the rest of them gathered all around. Reminding myself daily, minute by minute, that this is enough for now.

Joining in Ginny's Yarn Along today.

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Focusing on the Bigs {Mindful Mothering Mondays}

2013-04-22T08:30:00.000-04:00

It's beginning to happen, those big kids of mine deciding they've had just about enough of Mama's photog ways. It starts slowly, with a sigh and a rueful look when I go to snap a picture of whatever it is they are doing or reading, or how they look in that new dress or baseball uniform. Then, after a while, I realize that my CF card is conspicuously missing pictures of them - telling the story of two kids who have found a way to stay out of the limelight.

My Mom mentioned it last night in passing, as my oldest daughter raced by. "She is so big. Her childhood is nearly over. I hope she enjoyed it...I hate that it goes by so quickly."

I felt like I'd be slammed in the chest by a brick, slapped across the face with a 4x4. What? Childhood nearly over? It couldn't be. But, I guess...in just a few short years...

It's a funny place to be. In so many ways, starting over - still doing the diaper and nursing thing, relishing these baby days with Rosie and Peter, enjoying the preschool antics of my mighty warrior boy Jonah, and of course Fiona's first grader confidence and sass. With these older two flying below the radar in so many ways, it can be easy to miss that they are growing up - and yes, alarmingly quick.

Ben will be 10 this summer, my first to reach double digits. When I look over the past 10 years, I don't remember when he got so lanky and tall, or when our relationship changed: from Mama and baby to Mama and toddler, little kid, and now? I know the years are just around the corner when he'll grow taller and taller, leaving me behind him as he reaches new heights in all ways possible.

It's so odd to finally be confident in the parenting of little people with these last few, only to still be so unsure as my oldest children reach new ages. The future both terrifies and thrills me as I think ahead to all we will encounter in the next 5 or so years. All the things they will learn and see. All the hard truths they will learn. All the grace we will all need to get through it, together. It scares me because I feel so unprepared to take on these big new challenges, but then I remember that starting out with that very first little bundle of baby felt that way, too. And we made it. We really did! Somehow, together, we made it.

And so I'm treasuring up these moments in my heart. These childhood days, the last few years when all my children are in the golden days of childhood, together. The days before the questions get tougher and the stakes higher. I'm praying grace over today and all of the days to come, knowing that the One who has guided my path thus far will be faithful to see it completed.

Grab the graphic here:

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Finding Worth in the Hard Days

2013-04-18T07:35:00.001-04:00

I had a post all ready to go up today, about what has been working for us during this season of life. But last night, after finally getting my shower at 7 pm when my husband got home, after making dinner that wasn't well received by the kids (and then hearing the cries of "I'm hungry!" as soon as I cleaned up afterward...), after dealing with 2 babies crying at once for the hundredth time...I knew I needed to write a different sort of post. And I was taken back...

Back to a doctor's visit, shortly after my 3rd baby was born. My OB, a man of God, a man who "gets" big families, a man who knows what he's talking about, he told me right before I walked out the door: "When you are out with your kids, remember that people are watching. You are a ministry now, a testimony. Remember in how you treat your kids, how you speak to and of them. You are showing the world that children are a blessing. Remember that."

I've carried the weight of that statement for years and, in most ways, I think he is right. I squirm when people talk negatively about their children, when harassed looking mothers scream at and shame their children in public. I feel the need to show the world my belief that children are always blessings, that God is good and His gifts are good. The thing is, good doesn't always mean easy.

Sometimes I feel that I must make this look easy, or else have to defend it as still worthwhile. It's a funny thing, isn't it, that need to make parenthood look simple? I believe it stems from the belief that if something isn't fun or constantly gratifying, if it's not personally fulfilling at all times - it's not worth doing. We know Motherhood is worthwhile, so somehow we must defend it also as being simple and natural. But we don't expect that of athletes, do we? Or of someone pursuing an advanced degree? "If it's hard, why have another?" is something moms often hear, but how often does a PhD hopeful hear that? "Oh, it's hard? May as well quit then."

Motherhood is hard. Motherhood with lots of littles? Whew, it's crazy hard! And yes, I focus on the good and on the beautiful because there is so much beauty and happiness and little glimpses of God in it all, but that does not mean it's easy. God is all good, and His gift of human life? Beautiful! Marvelous! A brilliant revelation of His great love for us! It is not easy, but it is good.

I'm walking through this life in the vocation I feel called to, and I feel so blessed to be here. But I am as broken as the next person and sometimes this life just feels like more than I can do. It's then that I look into the faces of each of these people and realize that being called to be a Mother is to be called to a life of daily sacrifice. A sacrifice that isn't always wrapped up in a neat little box of self fulfillment or perfect peace. A sacrifice that means living life the hard way, avoiding easy street and heading straight for self-donation highway. Sometimes I lack the grace to see that.

So when dinner is burning and that baby howls after spitting up all down your back, toddler tracks in half the backyard on his boots, husband calls and says he is going to be late and the older kids are fighting over which movie to watch - I remember that I don't do this because it is always fun and easy. But like a marathon runner, I do love it and it is worth it. So I struggle on what to put out there, knowing that the world does not always understand that a hard day where nothing goes right can have worth. Does have worth. And I wouldn't trade it for the world.

A sacrifice that is worth it, every day. That's Motherhood.

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Knitting and Planning (Yarn Along)

2013-04-17T09:40:00.003-04:00

It's been a few weeks since I've participated in Ginny's Yarn Along. A few busy, wonderful weeks.

I don't knit much in the early days of a newborn in the house - my hands are pretty occupied with other things that are much more important. A baby is fresh and new for just a few short weeks - but knitting will hopefully be my companion into my twilight years. Thus, I hadn't made much progress in my February Lady sweater.

The last time I knit on it was actually during labor - funny, the things that relax you! In early labor with Rosie, I would sit and knit, measuring the space between contractions by how many lace repeats I could get done. It was when I cast the whole thing aside that I knew it was time to call the midwife - and get down to the real business of bringing a person into the world.

I picked it up again over this past weekend when it rained and snowed and was generally unpleasant outside and the whole thing was cast off and blocking on Sunday morning when we left for church.

It turned out rather nicely - still in need of a few buttons that I'm hoping to hunt for this evening. It is a bit snug, but then I'm a bit larger than normal right now. Hoping to wear it to Rosie's baptism next week.

Today I should be getting some sock yarn in the mail (my birthday gift!) and cast on for a Rios dress for Rosie. I'm making a pumpkin orange one for later this fall and possibly a purple one for summer. We'll see. I also need to quickly knit up a baptismal bonnet for her...thinking of using the sourball pattern.

All of this in the off-chance Rosemary decides to nap without me holding her. Which, at this point, seems like a long shot. Ah well...I have no complaints.

In reading news, when I get a spare moment or sit nursing my little one(s), I've been slowly making my way through Madeleine L'Engle's "Circle of Quiet," the first of her series of journals. Good stuff for this wannabe writer to be reading. I really relate to her quiet way and her view of the world/spirituality.

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Oh, Spring

2013-04-16T07:37:00.003-04:00

So when the earth is alive with gods,

And the lusty ploughman breaks the sod,
And the grass sings in the meadows,

And the flowers smile in the shadows,

Sits my heart at ease,

Hearing the song of the leas,

Singing the songs of the meadows.

~Robert Louis Stevenson~

This morning, we awoke to rain. Rosie and I, snuggled under our quilt, listening to each drop strike the roof in their comforting way, a gentle rumble of thunder every so often.

I can't help it: I love Spring.

I know it's muddy and can be ugly - old dead plants to be cleared away. The mess of life interrupted by snow, exposed. The naked limbs of trees. Grey days.

But it's also breathtaking. The buds on the fingertips of the trees. Bits of green, nudging out of their hiding places. Rain - grey and wet, coaxing growing things up from the ground. Wildflowers (no matter where I move, I must always have a yard full of wildflowers!). Sunshine. The smell of mud and the promise of newness, everywhere you look. Spring is a contradiction. Spring is my very favorite of all. It's here, in all it's glory, at least for today - Sunday it snowed, you know - and we are enjoying it as fully as we can.

I must have mentioned to Jason how much I love tulips, because he's been keeping a steady stream of them coming into the house. Each time one bouquet begins to fade, another takes it's place. At another time in life I may have grumbled about the extravagance of buying flowers so frequently, but right now I'm just letting him love me...and appreciating just how beautiful that is.

We ate dinner outside last night out of necessity - I truly could not get even one of those kids of mine back in the house, the lure of 70 degrees and the amazing outdoors more than I could compete with. Thankfully grilled cheese travels well, and is easily munched while swinging or picking blue flowers. There were a lot of dirty bare feet to be washed before bed last night, shoes deemed unnecessary in all this warmth. Yes, Spring is here and my kids seem to love it as much as I do.

So today we wake to rain and I'm already mentally tallying just how many raincoats we have and just where that little pair of rain boots are that would fit Peter just right. Because in Springtime, you live outside - rain or shine. There's just simply too much living to do.

{Our thoughts and prayers are with the victims and families affected by the situation in Boston. So much love to all of you!}

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Again {Mindful Mothering Mondays}

2013-04-15T07:52:00.001-04:00

{Thinking about this post from last summer today. Hope you enjoy it!}

"I want to water, Mama, let me!"

I straighten up from where I'm weeding around the onions, shield my eyes and glance at the sky. Great black thunderheads, rolling in.

"I don't know, honey...it's getting ready to rain in a bit."

What I really mean is - why do a job when it is already done? Why drag out the house and spend time on the unnecessary? But that's Mom-talk. I forget who I'm dealing with.

"Please mom? Please? I want to water!"

He's tugging at the hose now. What could I really say?

I watch him, spraying himself more than the plants, and think on a life of doing things over and over and over. Again and again.

Life with kids is like that.  And I'm not just talking about the constant keep up, either. I'm talking about having to change his shirt halfway through the day because his very favorite train shirt lies warm in the clean laundry basket. The book that just begs to be read again, right after you finished it the first time. Re-bathing the baby you bathed this morning, after he stood knee deep in the mud, grinning like anything.

Its the "under dog" push on the swing set, one is never enough. It's that second scoop of ice cream. The second ride on the Merry-Go-Round. It's singing that lullaby once again, because one day you know he won't ask.

It's repeating yourself again and again and still being a soft place to land when they find out the hard way to listen to your warnings.

Again and again.  There is no "done" in mothering. No way to check off the tasks of raising a person. Just when you think they've "got it," they can throw you a curve ball and ask for just one more try.

The beautiful thing about the constant repetition in mothering is that, when they clamor loud "Again! Again!," we get a second chance, too. A second chance to watch them in that moment of discovery. A second chance to see that look in their eyes.  A second chance to relive these little moments that make up the sum of why we do what we do.

Back inside, Peter is practicing those first few steps. Step, step, step, boom (crashing down). The kids all stand around, their faces full of light.  "Mom, he's walking! He really is! Do it again, Peter! Again!"  I lean against the door frame and watch him and realize that, no matter how many times I do this, it feels new. Again and again, I'm discovering that, in the repetition, I'm reliving the moments.

Again and again.

Grab the graphic here:

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29 Years

2013-04-12T08:33:00.002-04:00

It's after midnight on April 12, and I enter the final year of my 20's with my 6th baby in my lap, scrolling through the years in photographs. Time and memories flash before my eyes and I'm wondering how to put it into words, the view from here.

28 years have come and gone and although I often feel like I never grew much past age 18, it's the last 10 years that have defined me most of all. I realize it, stopping briefly on a picture of me, cradling my firstborn at the tender age of 19. The truth is, my life began when it became about more than just me.

It was then that, after searching and wondering and seeing life as one big question mark, that I found it: purpose. And once I did, life began. My life's purpose is to love and serve others, and to raise my family to do the same.

At 29, by many standards, I don't have much to show for myself. I don't own a home or my own car. I still haven't finished school, and I've barely started that book I've been meaning to write. I don't have a high paying career, or even the thought of beginning one. My days are spent sweeping, reading, cleaning, creating, cooking, praying. In a world that values self promotion, there's simply not much here.

But I go to bed each night and pinch myself at just how wonderful this life is - and how blessed I've been. Through giving myself away each and every day, I've discovered a secret: When life became less and less about me, it became more.

I'll spend this next year much as I have the last ten, with a prayer to be a blessing to those I meet along the path God has for me. And the joy of knowing that giving love away merely makes it return, abundantly more than I could have ever imagined.

{Celebrating my birthday today the way I know best, by being with the people I love the very most. Thank you for being such a blessing in me life, through reading this blog and encouraging me in all the ways that you do!}

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These Days...an Update

2013-04-10T14:19:00.003-04:00

Rosie has been with us a week as of yesterday, and things are going well! Jason returned to work on Monday, so we are slowly getting back into our groove. Spring has sprung and we're out in it as much as possible, picking the wild blue flowers that appear each year, playing kickball, swinging, and generally just playing around. Today is all thunderstorms, so we're doing indoor things - puzzles and games and a little bit of kindle-ing, after spending the morning with friends. We're still on a school break - a friend cautioned me against trying to start school on my first day without Jason post partum, and I'm so glad I took that advice!

In Rosemary news, she returned to birth weight by day 4, so it seems that this tandem nursing thing is working out just fine. I'll be writing more about it later, but so far? I'm very happy I chose to keep on with Peter. It just feels right for us, at this time, with these kids. Rosie has a slight sub-conjunctive hemorrhage in her eyes that shouldn't cause any harm, but I'm looking forward to it clearing up. So far she likes to sleep only when in my arms or, as a substitute, in the wrap, so suffice it to say she is with me 24 hours a day. The fourth trimester, as they call it, in full swing. We're both enjoying it so very much.

Friends and family continue to bless us in the ways that they can, and it all makes me feel so alive, so human, so centered in this space in time, in this community. Life is springing forth all around us, new life here in my arms and the gifts, they just keep raining on down.

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On Humility and Humor - A Guest Post from Mothering Spirit

2013-04-09T08:38:00.001-04:00

{So excited to welcome my friend Laura from Mothering Spirit to the blog today. I hope you enjoy her as much as I do, and be sure to pay a visit to her blog when you are through reading here!}

When I first saw Lydia’s new tagline – The pursuit of a humble life – I stopped my usual skimming and surfing of the Internet.

I had to sit with this idea, because in one simple phrase Lydia captured what I love most about her blog: her humility in the face of motherhood’s joys and challenges, and her wisdom that family life is not a goal to be achieved but a journey to be pursued, together in humility.

I find myself thinking about humility a lot these days. Perhaps there’s something about life with little ones that’s naturally humbling. So often I find myself brought to my knees figuratively, if not literally, by my boys’ constant needs.

As I continue to grow into this calling of parenthood, I realize how often my own desires come face-to-face in confrontation with the demands of my children. Something has to give in order for us to move forward together as a family, and as the adult, I’m the one who often must take the high road by bending down to serve them out of love.

Yet I don’t believe practicing humility as a mother is simply stooping so low that our own selves get trampled in the process. Humility is not losing oneself, but shaping oneself in service to the other. It is the right recognition of our life in relationship to all those around us. It is the quiet virtue of seeking wisdom and sharing the gifts we were blessed to be given.

But lately I’ve been wondering about humility in a much sillier light—humility and humor.

The root of the word “humility” (“humus” – the earth) is the same as the root for “human” and “humor.” I’ve never forgotten this lovely etymology, because there’s so much truth hidden within these connections. Humor can bring together a group of strangers in a magical way precisely because it is grounded in the heart of what makes us human.

Both of my boys are at their own beginning stages of developing a sense of humor. Our oldest is discovering the goofy joy of making up playful words and trying to make us guess what he means after he babbles off a string of nonsense. Our youngest is proving to be a natural extrovert who loves to work a crowd with his bright eyes and a cheesy grin and a sing-song tease.

Watching them take their first steps towards the art of humor not only makes me burst out laughing every day, but also teaches me about the important place of humor in our relationships. Often it is when we relate to each other on this most delightful level that we learn what humility really means: that we are all grounded in the same “humus,” the same earthy joys and basic desires to be in right relationship with each other.

Lydia’s simple words about the pursuit of a humble life have been happily rattling around in my brain for weeks now. With this mothering mantra on my mind, I hope that our family – both the grown-ups and the little ones – can draw wisdom from this idea of life as a journey shaped by humility.

And thanks to my goofy, grinning boys, I am daily reminded that when I bend down to their level and get my hands dirty in the simple earthy joys where they find such delight, I meet them in a place of common joy where we are most human – together.

. . .

Laura Kelly Fanucci lives with her husband and two young boys in Minnesota, where a sense of humor is required to weather April snow. She is humbled daily by her attempts to work from home while her kids bang on her office door. And in the hours when she should be sleeping, she writes about faith and family life at Mothering Spirit.

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What Every Mama Needs - a Plea for Community {Mindful Mothering Mondays}

2013-04-08T08:39:00.001-04:00

It's been a few days since our little Rosie joined us, and we're upstairs napping the afternoon away. Downstairs, Jason slides dinner into the oven - dropped off by friends who stopped by to admire the baby and help in any possible way. Outside, my brother and sister in law are playing with my big kids - schoolyard games in the sunshine.

These days have been full of blessings, from the texts, phone calls and facebook messages of congratulations and encouragement down to the basic care of my family. My community has stepped in, and it makes all the difference. I think about it, after my sister in law shows up to wipe down my bathrooms and make sure laundry is going well. My community supports not just me, but my sleep deprived husband, checking on him during this week when he's tossed into caring for five small children and an out-of-commission wife. Friends call on the way to the grocery, checking in to make sure we don't need anything. Boxes of baby clothes appear as if by magic. One of my best friends shows up at bedtime and supervises my kids brushing their teeth and slipping into jammies. I sit on the couch nursing Rosie and offer up a prayer of gratitude. We are taken care of, every one of us.

People ask me how I do it. Just how, in this world, this culture of separate lives and cutthroat ambition, how I can have this life. 6 babies under ten years old. The truth is, my community makes all of the difference. As such, it is something I desperately wish for every Mama, everywhere. A community of loving people who are willing to do the work of serving. Not just when new babies arrive, but in the not-so-happy times, too. When a relative dies, or someone receives a devastating diagnosis. There are so many ways to bless people - so why are we culturally just not that good at it? I look down at baby Rosie and feel so blessed that I can feel confident in receiving her and not worry about all the rest right now, knowing that we will be well cared for. Every Mom deserves that. Every Mom should have that.

It isn't a matter of cost, but a matter of worth. Globally, cultures and communities manage this. Families with seemingly nothing to offer others, barely scraping by on their own, they manage to be a blessing to one another. So why, here in America, do we feel so cut off? Why, in our ultra-connected society, are we so alone? I believe it's because we do not value this until we need it. We don't have time for service when we are so busy building our own lives, only to find that when we need help, there is none to be found. It is time for us to invest in one another. It's time to build community with one another, sharing the blessings and burdens of real life, allowing ourselves to be vulnerable and to admit that we need one another.

My community has been built in a few ways - one way by no work of my own, simply by being born into a large, close knit family. But the other is a way that everyone can build a community - and that is by being the community. Stepping out and creating it encourages others to join in, to be the blessing. And from there, it just grows. Each member may be able to just do one thing - bring one meal or take the big kids for one morning. But as more people join in, the blessings multiply - and the community becomes this great net of support for all families involved.

With technology, it is becoming easier than ever. My friend Amy organized meals for us by using Mealbaby.com and sending the sign up to our homeschool co-op. Within hours, my email inbox was filled with notifications of dinners being brought over the next few weeks. One less thing for Jason and myself to have to think about during this precious but often overwhelming time of life.

I'm a believer that a proper community can enrich the lives of all involved, and make it possible for us to have more of the good things in life. More love, time, family. Every Mama needs that.

Grab the graphic here:

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Guest Post: Natural Mama Nell on Whole Family Gardening

2013-04-05T07:42:00.000-04:00

{Still babymooning over here, getting stronger every day and enjoying these slow moments together as a family. I'm thrilled to have Natural Mama Nell from Whole Parenting posting here today, sharing some tips on getting started in family gardening!}

It's late winter and in the air is a hint of spring, of new life, of seedlings, of children playing outdoors without seventeen layers. I'm so happy to guest post here at Small Town Simplicity while Lydia and her family celebrate their own new life. Springtime for our family means prepping the ground for gardening, and sharing this joyful work with our children. I have a whole section on gardening over at my blog: here. Let's talk about gardening, tips to get started and tips to getting your little ones' fingernails dirty in the process!

1) Prep the soil

In preparing the soil in your yard or garden box for maximum growth, ensure you till, hoe, and turn over the dirt at least a foot or two deep. Two feet is better. Literally, take a garden shovel (one with a little bite on the tip) and jump on it with your foot, hefting your weight into it, and overturn the soil. This is where children can get really excited. Give them a little garden hand spade to help you and they'll love it. See how much rich black dirt you have, and how much sand or clay you have. Add more black dirt because that's what you want to plant in. Mix in a little compost if you have some! (More on this later.)

2) Pick the plants

Selecting what to plant is almost as exciting as eating it at the end of the season. It's the beginning of the excitement. Like previews at the movies (my fav part!). Take a gander at the local garden store so your kiddos can see the picture of what the seed will become! Heirloom seed catalogues are wonderful as well. I'd pick things that you know are grow well in your geographic area. For us in Minnesota, we've had good luck with carrots, tomatoes, parsnips, KALE!, spinach, squash, and zucchini. Depending on how long your growing season is, either start from seed (indoors ahead of time if you're really ambitious) or little babe plants from the farmer's market or gardening store.

We've got a little garden bucket for our oldest, who was a toddler last growing season. It housed his spade, his gardening hat, and was where he deposited his booty. That's right, harvesting is one of the biggest delights for children. It also is a great teachable moment about what's safe to eat from outside and what's not, what's ripe and what's not, and how to cook and eat what you grow.

3) Care for the garden

Compost is key. If you don't compost your kitchen scraps because you think you need some fancy dancy plastic bin, you're mistaken! Here's a little primer on composting: Composting for Beginners. Spread compost to prevent weeds from growing, and till it into your soil to promote growth. Watch for errant seeds that will grow in unexpected places! My husband calls that "rouge gardening" when a watermelon pops up in your tomato patch!

Water in the cool of the evening and use your thumb to diffuse a harsh spray. Let your children water (preferably naked or in a swim suit!) the plants and you just made their day! Weed as necessary. Harvest & enjoy!

A garden, howsoever large or small, is a chance to connect with God's creational tasks and instill a love of labor and healthy food in your children.

{Natural Mama Nell lives in the great city of Saint Paul, Minnesota with her husband and two little ones. She is a lawyer turned stay-at-home mom who loves to blog over at Whole Parenting Family and runs an organicky mama-baby etsy shop called Whole Parenting Goods. Her fav fresh-from-the-garden foods are kale for making kale chips and strawberries for feeling like a queen!}

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{Babymooning}

2013-04-03T07:40:00.000-04:00

Rosemary Beatrice Will

8 lbs 8 oz 21 inches

April 2, 1:09 AM

Thank you for all your love and support! She arrived in her own perfect timing. We are so blessed.

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Laboring Through Motherhood {Mindful Mothering Mondays}

2013-04-01T07:57:00.000-04:00

Birthdays were celebrated. Easter eggs dyed, hunted, relished. Little girl hair curled and boys in vests and button downs, all in a row on Easter morning. We made it through March, and time just marches on by.

I'm a mixture of relief and exhaustion these days - relieved that those busy days are past and too exhausted to think of what comes along next. In these 10 years of being a mother, you'd think I would have learned by now that plans go awry and the way we envision things to unfold rarely is played out in reality.

My sister and I used to play a game, tell one another not to imagine something a certain way - certain that, if we did, it would turn out the exact opposite. So we'd intentionally not daydream about Mom buying us a new pair of jeans or the boy we liked from afar asking for our phone numbers. A silly childhood game, to be sure, but I still think about that now...all these years later. As the saying goes, Man plans - God laughs.

It consumes my thoughts during these late pregnancy days. And reminds me that the waiting and the wondering of late pregnancy is really a hint into the work of motherhood that lies ahead. That place where dreams and plans and aspirations don't always turn out the way we envision. Most of us enter motherhood with a list of do's and do nots. In our ignorance, we make outrageous claims. "I would never do...." "I will always..."

I've had my moments of mothering arrogance, as I'm sure we all have. I've also had my moments of utter and complete humility. Those are the moments where I think we can see just how mothering changes us, for better or worse. Like in labor, the only way out is through. The only way out of a tough night with a house full of sick kids? Is through. The only way out of a bad situation with a teenager is to work through the problem. We learn time and again that, in mothering, sticking our fingers in our ears and ignoring the struggles that we face will never get us through them. We'll simply be stuck somewhere in the middle.

When the only way out is through, sometimes the way through is to let go. Let go of expectations, ideals, our do's and don'ts. Let go of that picture perfect vision in our minds of the way life ought to be, and grab hold of the way it is. Accepting the children and spouses we have, our own weaknesses and strengths, and lay hold to the freedom of knowing that the very act of embracing a life of service means we got the most important part of it right.

Mothering is raw and real and, at times, ruthless...not a neat little hobby, an accessory to an already full life. Like labor, this is a ride of waves. A swell that peaks and then dissipates, day after day after day. Some more intense than others. Some we doubt are real, some we can hardly breathe through. The only way out is through and the ride is long, but with determination, we can all reach the other side, the triumph of a job well done - a life well lived. Even when we've left some plans and priorities behind.

In laying claim to these truths, we grab hold of the perseverance required in this holy and hard vocation...You and me? We've got what it takes. Not perfectionism, but humility and strength.

Grab the graphic here:

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