This morning I sat at my computer, not exactly sure what in the world I should share with you. Even when I planned my week, I knew exactly what I wanted to write about each day—except today. My mind kept going blank. When I thought of something, I realized it would go better with something else on another day.
So I sat.
I journaled a little to try to clear my head. That journaling led me to look back at an old journal. I read entry after entry about my life as a mom to four little boys under the age of four. I saw how I celebrated when their drawings actually resembled real objects. I saw how fascinated I was with their personalities. My heart ached a little as I saw their tiny faces posed with their Mr. Potatohead creations and trains lined up on the windowsill.
Today my heart is pricked to share with you what it means to me to be a mother. But using lots of adjectives just didn’t seem to do it justice. So instead, I am sharing three unedited journal entries with you that remind me what it means to be a mother. I originally tried to sum these up with simply chapter headings, but they were so limiting! I hope these pictures and words help you to see the joy in your life as they have for me today.
November 24, 2012
Elias
When I was a girl in Dundee, we spent lots of days at Lake Menzie. Most of those trips were fishing trips. I remember watching little bugs flying across the top of the water, zigging and zagging very sporadically, as if flying in a straight line was impossibility. This, in a way, is Eli. He is everywhere briefly. He zigs into the family room, then zags into the kitchen, soon zigging into the bathroom and then zagging into the formals before getting ushered back into the family room before he zigs back to the kitchen.
Along the way, he manages to be a part of everything going on in every room while simultaneously avoiding being caught. He is very social and is typically the first person to talk to people when we are out any place. His hair is the lightest, yet has the tightest curls of any of the boys. He is very strong with an innate desire to help others, but is a combination of the Tazmanian Devil, the Roadrunner, and the Coyote when he is too tired or not feeling well.
Eli is the oldest child by one minute. He, like his curls, is wound tightly. He is a nervous child. He has rocked on his hands and knees to console himself since he could. He repeats phrases or words over and over and over and over and over and over and over as if they gain more meaning after they’ve been uttered one hundred consecutive times.
He is smart. He knows how to read people to get what he wants. He is a cross between a Wall Street trader and a used car salesman. He enjoys playing with toys that allow him to be creative: painting, coloring, sock puppeteering, and food (yes, he loves to play with his food). He is typically the last child to fall asleep and the first child awake. He is not very good at being considerate and wakes his brothers daily. He listens to everything. The NICU nurses first noticed how nosey he is. He has not, as yet, outgrown that trait.
April 10, 2013:
Yesterday as I was getting Nathanael ready to come downstairs, my sneaky older boys went into the garage to play. I ran downstairs because the garage is not a place they are allowed to play — or even go. I sat each of the three boys in time out as I went back upstairs to get Nathanael. As I was walking upstairs, I realized that the boys were just trying to find a dark place to try out the little lights they got over the weekend. I decided that instead of being angry and focusing on the bad choice they made, I would try to do something different.
I had a flood of reminders of things like, “Today is a day for making memories,” and “These moments are fleeting,” and so in an instant, I grabbed a few blankets and the baby and went downstairs. While the boys were still in time out, I put the blankets on the table and made a fort.
Then I talked to each of the boys about how dangerous it is to go into the garage (in case you are wondering, yes, we do have one of those “childproof” covers over that doorknob, but they are no match for my sneaky boys!) and some other motherly lecturing that I don’t quite remember about making bad choices whether or not anyone is looking.
Then, I showed them the fort. They climbed in, I gave them their little lights, and closed the blanket door. They had so much fun! I got their cereal and even let them eat their breakfast under the table in their fort (I had a sheet on the floor because I knew that they would spill their cereal since they spill at the table and a new situation always means spilling).
I know that building a fort isn’t always the answer, but today I felt like it was exactly what we needed and while the rest of the day wasn’t perfect, there were some improvements over the day before. The looks on my boys’ faces were so worth the mess. I hope that ten, twenty, and maybe even thirty years from now, I can look back at yesterday and smile. I am so glad that yesterday didn’t turn into a day of scolding and ranting and raving. Instead, it was a day we built a memory, even if I’m the only one who remembers it.
April 16, 2013:
Yesterday, the boys spent a lot of time putting their puzzles together and then taking them apart again and then putting them back together…(you get the idea). After dinner and before our Family Home Evening, Nick had to go run a quick errand and while he was out, the boys pulled out their puzzles again. Josiah was getting tired and so his patience was pretty non-existent. I helped him put the frame of his puzzle together and put several of the other pieces into the puzzle with him, but then I stepped back to let him finish it. I had done the same thing earlier and he had almost no problems finishing it.
This time, he started crying. He wanted more help. He said he couldn’t do it and he needed more help. I found myself saying, “Jo, why are you crying? You have a beautiful puzzle that is almost finished. You only have a few more pieces. You can do it!”
Something in what I said made me stop. I suddenly imagined how many times I have been like Josiah in my life. I have cried out in prayer thinking I need more help. He has patiently (and much more patiently that I ever am, I must add) replied much in the same way I did to Jo, “Alissa, why are you crying? You have a beautiful life! Your puzzle is coming together, can’t you see it? If you look closely, you will see where these next few pieces go. I know you can do it!” It was such an overwhelming impression, I stopped what I was doing right then and I took a picture so I would remember.
Life really is beautiful, even if it often feels like a giant puzzle. He never leaves us in an impossible situation.
Motherhood is Near to Divinity
Each day is a challenge. I can’t simplify it or justify it. Life is meant to be a challenge. It is how we learn.
Motherhood truly is near to divinity. Being a mother gives me a higher purpose. Every goal in my life has morphed into something that will make the world better for my children. My hypothetical “one wish” is always for them. I am a better person because I am a mother.
Blogiversary Giveaway #6:
The fantastic Heather from HeatheredLetters Etsy shop is giving prizes to THREE lucky winners! One lucky winner will receive any custom lettering option of your choice! Two more winners can choose from any of her beautiful ready-made prints or the “minimalist” option on the custom lettering. Her hand-lettering is so beautiful! With a gorgeous digital print ready to go, you could print one onto a piece of cardstock and have a last-minute gift ready to go in no time. I bought her “Happy Girls” print a few months ago. I have been meaning to order it as a larger print to hang in my daughter’s bedroom (Our Costco closed its photo center, so I need to figure out a “Plan B.”) It will look perfect on her wall!
{Update: This giveaway has ended. Congratulations to Kathy Mcclanahan, Maria Dalmau, and Elizabeth Turney!}
What would you order from HeatheredLetters?
I have a Pinterest board full of inspiring words if you are looking for ideas…
The two most important days of your life are the day you are born and the day you find out why. And This one → When you look at your child, you’re looking at the purest love you’ll ever know.
YES! I love these! Thanks, Maria!
“Parents with their words, attitudes, and actions possess the ability to bless their children
Yeah! Beautiful! Thanks for sharing this, Kathy!
Let them sleep for when they wake they will move mountains.
Because when my boys are awake they move their mountains!
I love this, Mandielee! Thank you for sharing it!