Children and Nature

"To find the universal elements enough; to find the air and the water exhilarating; to be refreshed by a morning walk or an evening saunter... to be thrilled by the stars at night; to be elated over a bird's nest or a wildflower in spring - these are some of the rewards of the simple life." ~John Burroughs

I'm not one of those moms who feels that idle time leads to boredom or trouble. On the contrary, I feel that idle time is a necessary part of self-discovery, as well as discovery of the world around us. I don't like to keep my children so busy with planned activities, that they don't have ample time to just "be." Maybe that sounds a little existential, but I guess that's my brand of spirituality.

I wan't my children to feel like free spirits. Someday, when they have grown, I hope that they are empowered by and can connect with nature...with themselves. I want them to learn how to reflect on and admire the beauty and strength of nature. I think it's important for them to feel humbled by it and at the same time learn to embody it's stillness and it's strength.

"Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop off like autumn leaves." ~John Muir

Unless You're a Mom

Unless you're a mom, it may be hard to understand the emotional rolleroaster that an average day presents. If you wake up before your children, and most of us do, you gaze upon their angelic faces and feel such satisfaction that they are slumbering peacefully. Maybe you sneak off to enjoy the only moment, of that day, that you will have to yourself. I usually make myself a cup of coffee and just...sit. The stability that I enjoy in those moments won't be revisited again, until tomorrow morning.

In between those moments, I will have argued with my son about the contents of his lunch. I will have scolded him for watching television, when he was supposed to be dressing for school. I will have discovered a nasty scrape on my daughter's arm, of which I have no idea the origins. I will change the other daughter's diaper, to find a "pimple," that may very well be a more serisous infection growing. Gee, that one is in addition to the one on her thigh...the one she points to and says "oush!" I feel helpless, not being able to immediately resolve it. I take my son to school and, on the way, he tells me I am the "worst mom in the world," because I didn't let him finish watching his cartoon. My heart sinks. After dropping him off, one of my girls bursts into tears as we turn back onto our street. She does this every time we come home.

I will have to sneak out of the house to take the trash out, or endure more screaming and crying. I venture out, and as always, get caught...screaming and crying ensue. Someone comes to pick up some donation items and as I help them to their car, more screaming and crying. Sigh. I must sing several rounds of "Twinkle, twinkle, little star," to make it stop. Nothing stops the throbbing in my head though.

By this time, I will have changed 3 poopy diapers and at least 3 peepee diapers. I will have bathed one daughter, while the other one empties out the cabinet at the end of the hallway. I will dress the bathed daughter and put the other one in the bathtub, but will have to endure more screaming and crying because the girl who was bathed first, now wants to go back in.

I will have tripped on or jumped over toys strewn about the floor. I will probably step on at least one, with all my weight, and curse out loud. I will have accidentally spilled bleach on my shirt and curse out loud again. I will wonder how the table runner, from the dining room, came to be in one of the bedrooms. I will also wonder what the crunchy stuff on the back of the dog is and decide to bathe the dog outside, but get caught and have to endure more screaming and crying...more "twinkle, twinkle." I can't even count how many fights I will have to break up...how many injustices I will have to right. I will ride this train all day long...being jostled from side to side. Aggravated...heart broken...pissed off...bursting with love...all...day...long. At least until tomorrow morning. And you may not know what I'm talking about...unless you're a mom.

After-thoughts on Independence Day

Yesterday was hard. I woke up around 4:30 and had trouble getting back to sleep. I managed to do some cleaning in the garage, before most of the others were even awake. When Max finally woke up, he was very excited about the 4th of July party I had convinced him that we were having...just the 4 of us; Brooke, Lauren, he and I. We put the star shaped cookies in the home-made cookie jar that I had made from a craft suggestion in Family Fun Magazine. It was cute, a red, white and blue robot with a see through body area to view the cookies, which also needed to be decorated with theme in mind. We blew up the bounce house, put water in the water table and let everyone play outside, after being slathered in sunscreen.

The menu I had planned was barbecued chicken, corn on the cob, cole slaw and mashed potatoes. We also planned on making star shaped cupcakes with red and blue sprinkles on top. So far, the day might otherwise be an ideal one. The weather was hot and Scott would be home for the first half of the day. Nonetheless, I still had to do all the shopping, preparing, cooking, cleaning and parenting on my own.

The not so ideal parts of my day consisted of having to clean the wall, in our hallway, after Lauren smeared poop, from her diaper, all over. Yes, I know, clearly a sign of potty training readiness...sigh. Lauren also managed to stuff a small blob of blue playdo up her nose, which obviously bothered her a good deal. I tried to hold her down and fish it out with some blunt edge tweezers, but it was too far gone. I used the battery operated "snot sucker" on her too, but that just retrieved some of the blue snot. I hope it dissolved or went down the back of her throat. There appears to be no telltale sign of it today. Only time will tell, if she develops any kind of sinus infection from the foreign object.

Lauren (are you noticing the pattern here...the common denominator of the day?) also managed to shove her sister, while in the tub, and cause her to get a bloody lip. Worthy of mention, is that it was Brooke's second bath of the day, because she smeared cottage cheese into her hair at dinner time. Lauren has perfected the art of screaming her way through the "terrible twos." The sound of her voice is deep, gravelly and has an amazing projectile for a small child. I am sheepish to admit that I have even responded by holding my hand over her mouth, being ever so careful not to cover her nose, of course.

As I write this, I have a naked "clone warrior," an underwear clad "indian" and a diaper wearing "knight," all running around my house, engaged in battle. The dog is hiding. I wish I could say the same, having no idea what little disasters await the rest of my day.

Sentinel of the Night

Pen in hand, I sink into the over sized sofa, pausing to take a deep, healing breath. The dog lets out a guttural groan...almost in acknowledgement of my own resignation. The night has been long and morning comes faster than I care to concede.

Brooklyn is sleeping soundly in my bed. Night time stirs discontent and she has whimpered long enough in her own bed. I tried to comfort her there, but there is a vast difference between the distant isle of her bed and the comfort of the mainland. I pick her up and carry her to my bed. She sleeps deeply now. Her breathing has steadied. She no longer grasps at her own hair, as if trying to regain balance. Her final utterance was a sweet sigh and I am content...until Lauren cries out.

Her disorientation becomes mine. I rush to her side and she need only feel my breath against her neck to relax. A single, tiny finger reaches out and touches my cheek. She smiles, never opening her eyes. Satisfied that I am near, she turns over and settles back in...for now.

Two Grandmas

Lately, Max has been concerned with death, as his awareness of it grows. He posed his question to me:

Max: "Mom, who will be my grandma if Grandma dies?"
Me: "Nana will still be your grandma."
Max: "WHAT?" "I have TWO grandmas?!"
Me: "Yeah, what did you think Nana was?"
Max: "Just a person."

Then, I elaborated a little bit about the family tree and where his grandmas stood, relative to his father and I. To make sure he understood, he reiterated back to me:

"So Nana is daddy's mommy and the old one with the two dogs is your mommy."

Ouch!

The Less Glamorous Side of Motherhood

Just now I was changing Lauren's diaper. It was a poopie diaper. Not a solid, nor a liquid, but rather a mousse like consistency. I unfastened the diaper and lifted her slightly, by the legs, as I reached for the wipes, at which point she coughed. Coughing might not have been so bad, except for the force of her cough made her fart...twice. Now even baby farts are not such a big deal except for the fact that she still had poop mousse all over her little bottom . Her little fart blew that poop mousse all over my arm!!! Blech! Twice. I had to wipe off her bottom as quick as I could before she coughed again.

Another time, Lauren walked into the living room, where I had been sitting and offered me her fingers, so gingerly. Without even thinking about it, I kissed them. Then I smelled the poop. She had been digging in her diaper and gotten it on her fingers...and I kissed it (cringe). I jumped up and dashed to the bathroom, faster than a speeding bullet, to wash my mouth off with soap. Truly disgusting!

A Couple of Trueisms

I can't seem to remember to pick up the dog's water dish each day, BEFORE one of my girls has dumped it all over the floor.

No matter how many toys I pick up off the floor, there are more toys to pick up.

Upon initial investigation, Max is never guilty of anything.

If something is missing, look outside the doggy door first.

If Brooke is screaming and crying, Lauren has two of something in her possession.

If You Were a Fly on the Wall

If you were a fly on the wall, at my house...


Lauren: (walks in the living room with an empty bathroom wipes box).
Me: "Box! You have a box!"
Lauren: (hands the box to me).
Me: (looking around for a toy to put in the box for her...seeing a small figurine of Woody from the Disney/Pixar movie Toy Story laying on the floor) "Here's a Woody for your box!" (realizing what I've just said to my 1 1/2 year old daughter, looking around sheepishly to see if anyone noticed).

Max is learning to read, therefore sounding out various words throughout the day. My husband overhears him in the bathroom...
Max: "T"..."A"..."M"..."P"..."O"..."N"...


Me: (scratching my leg...something my husband always tells me to stop)
Max: "Stop scratching!"
Me: "Why?"
Max: "When Daddy's not here, I'm the boss!"


Max and I were laying on the bed, watching some television and he takes both hands and starts shaking my stomache...
Me: "You know, mommy used to have a skinny, flat belly."
Max: "I like your squishy belly. I don't want you to have a skinny belly."

Max was watching the cartoon "Happily Never After," and the main villain, a woman, was wearing a very clingy outfit. His face lights up and he shouts out: "BOOBS!"
.....like father, like son.


Recently, I assigned the "Baby Got Back" song as a ringtone for someone on my cellphone. I've also been singing it to the kids to make them laugh. This morning, Max was absentmindedly singing it himself:
Max: "I like big, fat butts!!! Big, fat, squishy butts! I can't lie!"....sigh.