I have been neglectful. I can only imagine that all nine of you out there who read this have been on pins and needles waiting for my next post. Sorry about that.
I've been meaning to post about London's Make-A-Wish experience, I've been meaning to post about guilt, love, real beauty, life lessons, the progress on our forever home dreams, superheroes, and the reasons behind my desire to own a strawberry farm, but apparently I can't sit down and put my thoughts to the keyboard lately. The husband recently volunteered to go to Afghanistan for his work. I've
been meaning to talk about that and what it will mean to our family and
our plans for a forever home. I think "I've been meaning" has become my most used phrase. And I hate it.
I hate "I've been meaning"...
London has been sick lately and is currently on her third round of antibiotics. Seizures are unpredictable, nights are sleepless, and frustrations are plentiful. I've been trying to work with Kannon on basic preschool lessons, he's had swimming lessons, I've wanted to get things done around the house, organize things for family photos, and sew an ever growing number of quilts... and in this mess that is my life at the moment, I sometimes sit down, stare into space, and just feel irritated.
I hate that I can't make London feel better.
So often, I can't see the beauty in every day, because I'm too frustrated to open my eyes to it.
I'm trying to change that mindset. I'm trying to love the little things and forget about the fact that I can't get Kannon to memorize his address or spell his last name. I'm trying to go easy on myself for not getting the kitchen floor mopped or the dog hair vacuumed off the couch and just live in the moments of taking the kids to the nature center or the dinosaur park. The dishes will still be there when I get back, after all.
Some days are harder than others, but I've learned that raising kids isn't about creating peace by being super-mom with her perfectly polished nails and delicious meals with veggies creatively sneaked in for the kids. It isn't about having a pristine house with windows so clean you'd swear there was no glass there at all or kids rooms so tidy that Martha Stewart herself could drop in unannounced and take photos for her magazine. It has nothing to do with all that crap you find on Pinterest about how to fill up the summer with educational, fun, and overall productive things for kids. No, raising kids isn't about creating that kind of peace.
It's about enjoying the peace that's already there-- unfiltered, raw, and natural. It's about being there in the ways that your child needs, and not in the way that those super-moms dictate to be the best. It's about getting joy from moments, not entire days.
Because let's face it, it's rare that an entire day with children will go exactly as planned, with no whining, fussing, fighting, dirty hand prints, snotty noses, skinned knees, wasted vegetables, poopy diapers, or spilled milk.
But what's guaranteed is something to appreciate in all that chaos.
Little arms wrapped around your waist, leaving Cheetos fingerprints on your new jeans.
Tiny yawns.
Being told that you're the best mom in the whole world because you allow your kid to have a grape soda.
Watching Frozen for the hundredth time and hearing your preschooler sing the songs to his sister when he thinks you aren't watching.
Finding the other flip-flop.
When your kid dresses himself... is there anything more adorable than basketball shorts, cowboy boots, a long-sleeve tshirt, a winter vest, a tie, sunglasses, and a fedora???
Kids falling asleep on your lap.
Watching Jimmy Fallon clips with your kids because well, they have great taste in late night comedians.
Hearing all about our kids' dreams from the night before.
Hearing your daughter laugh in her sleep.
Bath bubble beards.
You don't have to wait for all the laundry to be done to find peace in your day. Really, when you sit back and just focus on what's in front of you, you can find the peace that comes for free with each tiny human. They all have some to offer- you just have to be open to receiving it, and you have to be willing to receive it even though it's covered in mud and boogers.
