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No, THIS Stage

1 Feb

I find my roles of wife and mother endlessly fascinating, beautiful and challenging.

Perhaps women are just wired to feel this way, in these roles, but I find myself repeatedly proclaiming this stage as my very favorite. I feel like, oh, NOW we’ve arrived. I hope this stage lasts.

It never does, of course. That’s not life.

But what I am genuinely surprised to discover is that the next stage unfailingly tops the previous. A year and a half ago Kyle and I were exchanging e-mails that made me get that tingly excited feeling and Aidan started Kindergarten at the school I was hoping he would get in to. Life seemed like it was all starting to finally come together the way I had hoped for.

Tonight I wrapped up a yoga class, came home for casual dinner and catch up with the boys, Aidan read me a couple of chapters out of his latest book for a bedtime story and Kyle serenaded us with guitar playing and singing.

I did it again. I thought: Yes, THIS. This is what I’ve always wanted. This is the stage I want to hold on to.

Just now am I starting to realize it is always greater than I could have imagined. And now all I hope is that I have the wisdom to recognize this stage will never last, and the true beauty often surfaces at unexpected times. I better soak up each moment with everything I have.

Kind of reminds me of how these gems from our spur of the moment Trash the Dress session stole my heart. 

Thirty Update: January 2012 Edition

30 Jan

It’s been a lovely few weeks since my last post. I feel like I’m living my intent – sending handwritten notes, unexpectedly receiving beautiful handwritten notes (thanks, L!), giggling with my sister on the phone midday, e-mailing with friends and acquaintances more frequently than usual, slowing down and reveling in kids yoga and mancala playing with my sweet, intelligent child and spending hours loving the wonder of time spent with Kyle doing pretty much nothing.

One of the most recent e-mails I received was from a friend of a friend, a person I’ve met in real life, an occasional reader of this blog.

He reminded me of my Thirty Challenge – and then took the time and effort to link me to some truly wonderful looking places to help accomplish some of the travel goals.

Of all the e-mails I received this week, both professional and personal, this one stands out the most.

It is exactly what I want, but perhaps have struggled to articulate. Connection that matters. Connection that makes me think. Not necessarily giving up other mediums of communication exclusively for this type – but embracing more of it. So to T – thank you!

I also thought if someone is checking out my Thirty Challenge – I better update it. It was a little freaky to see August 7, 2013 posted as the date of my 30th. That’s next year! A few of the items I have already checked off my list:

  • #9 – The original list was posted in October 2010. This is funny to me now, but at that point I had never taken a yoga class in a yoga studio. I had done some yoga at the gym, but let me assure you – NOT the same! Since March 2011, I have literally taken a yoga class at the studio nearby, Satya, every single week. This week, I’ve taken four classes, and I also got up and did a yoga practice myself this morning. It has changed my life, and it gave me motivation to commit to an existence with meaningful intention.
  • #14 – You guys, we totally had a green lawn this past summer and fall. When the white stuff melts, I can show you a picture, but it was the best it has ever been. Now, in all honesty, we paid to have the entire thing leveled, seeded and fertilized. So we had help. But Kyle gets the credit for keeping it alive. I surely would have killed it!
  • #20 – I’ll never be one of these people with lovely, stylish hair. No matter the length, the color, the day – I’m apt to toss it on top of my head and call it good. But I must admit to LIKING when I have stylish looking hair. Several times in the past year I’ve styled my own hair – to my surprise approval.

There are others being worked on – we’ve booked our flights to Maine this summer, more B&B stays are on the horizon, brewery visits are being planned and I am bound and determined to get this menu thing down. It’s getting better, but only now do I realize how long three months is! I might have to modify that goal.

Until next time, laugh with those close to you, soak up the beauty of humanity and take a long walk in the woods with someone you love. xo

A Slower Pace

9 Jan

Adopting a pace that patiently crawls instead of bounding forward is not really my style. I prefer the multitasking, the squeezing more than can comfortably fit in to a 24-hour day, and I have certainly been known to sacrifice sleep in an effort to check more off my to-do list.

My life often looks more like a race to run, than a journey to observe, immerse myself in and learn from.

There is something rather unsatisfying about adopting a pace that speeds forward without noticing the surroundings, or the wake behind me. There’s also something unsatisfying about letting connection fall primarily to texts, e-mails or Facebook updates.

I recently feel unnerved by people having a window into our life solely via this blog, or FB, and I feel equally disheartened about knowing details of a friend’s life merely because I scrolled through the feed on my Smartphone out of boredom.

I don’t mean to blast the Internet by any means – so much can be done with its power, and it often IS an effective means of communication.

But I find myself longing for handwritten notes, for monumental life announcements to be made on the phone or, better yet, over a cup of coffee or a glass of wine.

I feel a bit protective of our family – perhaps you should only know we launched Aidan’s first rocket after making BYO pizzas and cookies from scratch yesterday if we are, indeed friends. (And frankly, I don’t expect the masses would even care.)

I want simplicity. I want genuine connection. I want to make myself slow down and live IN THIS MOMENT – not always looking to the next thing, or frantically trying to get too much done, but really enjoying the act of spreading homemade pizza sauce on homemade pizza dough after a competitive game of Blokus with my delightful husband.

All this to say – I’m not swearing off chronicling life on this blog, or posting on FB, but it will probably be much less frequent.

We only get this life, and in this life all we can be sure of is this moment.

I want to put my love and energy into this moment, and the people I am spending it with. I want to slowly revel in the magnificent world around me and feel true gratitude. I want to live what I practice in yoga – breathing deeply with intent. I want to spend quality time with you, if we have a relationship in real life.

And so, I will.

Happy 2012.

“Good Job!”

2 Nov

Praise is a slippery slope. I find it akin to a giant piece of double frosting chocolate cake. It tastes really good, for a short while, and it makes you want more. But it’s ultimately a bad idea for your ass.

I grew up seeking it in most ways. I wanted that paper with the A on it to be displayed on the fridge. I wanted an “atta girl” when I took the initiative to clean the house. I liked getting compliments when I took the time to get ready for Homecoming.

Funny thing I learned along the way - praise is not gratifying. At all.

Because all of a sudden you make major decisions based on what other people think. It becomes more about other people’s reactions to your choices than YOUR opinion of your choices.

You probably have a general idea of the things I enjoy, based on this blog. But I don’t need someone else to affirm my decisions to go to yoga, participate in NaNoWriMo as of yesterday or give me excessive kudos for making dinner or teaching my son to read. I do the things I do because they light my soul on fire. I would still do them, even if no one else ever knew about them, never gave me a positive word about what I engage in.

Intrinsic motivation is surprisingly challenging to teach. I want to praise Aidan for all the things he’s doing right - working hard at school, improving at soccer, helping me wash the dishes, listening to me the first time (when he does!). But I don’t want the reason he does these things to be out of a need to hear praise. I want his joy at sounding out a difficult word in his book to be because he’s proud of himself, not because I’m proud of him.

The other day he was working at the table and said, “I’m almost ready for you to look. I want to impress you.”

It made me cringe.

“You don’t need to impress me, son. You just need to feel good about the job you’re doing.”

Such a simple statement. So very hard to teach. That praise dragon is easy to fall victim to. I hope I can help the little one build confidence without relying on others.

On an unrelated side note, I also hope he stops losing teeth. Three across the top in a month!

In the Rain

27 Sep

I think when I am older, and reflecting back on those “crazy” days of young motherhood, I will rather like my memories of tonight.

The sky was light charcoal, the rain opening down on the field. Aidan was dressed in soccer cleats and I had just laced up my hot pink running shoes. He ran back and forth across the field, scoring a goal at one end, fighting to defend at the other. I looped around the three youth-sized fields over and over, at first warming up, then running a couple of miles at race pace.

The precipitation never let up, and neither did our determination. He was in his world doing his thing, I was in mine. But there was never much distance between us. I could see him from most angles of my run and, when he had a moment to break, he looked up and waved in my direction.

One of the most imporant lessons I’m trying to teach him is that he is not responsible for my happiness, nor am I for his. I gave birth to him, of course, but the life he leads is his. I guide him, shape him, show him unconditional love, support him.

But ultimately I am giving him a foundation to be independent. I know I am not like the other mothers there, the ones under golf umbrellas, just watching their little ones move across the field. In my own way, however, I am always there. I am multi-tasking per usual, getting my work out in while he practices. I want him to be okay without me, but I always want to be close enough to sprint to his side if he needs me – metophorically and literally. 

After his practice, we were both pretty drenched. As every other child scampered towards the parking lot, Aidan looked at me through wet lashes, “Mom, will you just practice with me a little while longer?”

It is my inner hope that he sees me circling the field and doesn’t think his practice is anything less than important to me. Instead it is my wish he is motivated by his mother’s drive to balance being a good mother and being a whole person on my own.

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