On Mother's Day

Mother's Day.... It was a good day for this family. I was surrounded by my beautiful children doing things I love like cooking, hiking, eating, and playing. My husband did some dishes, which rocked! We grilled some burgers for dinner and everyone made it through the day with few tears. It was a good day.

For My Mom:

When I think about being a mom I think about how hard it is. It's weird. You make that decision that you're ready for a baby, that it's time to take on this new job of motherhood. Then you try for months to get that dream to come true. And then it does and you're so ecstatic. Life feels complete and blessed and full of hope and possibility and adventure. And then that baby is born and within a few days or weeks the bliss turns into this realization that this tiny, dependent person is stuck with you and you with it for the rest of your lives. That no matter what, better or worse,  you are connected and obligated to one another. It's not a feeling of regret, just intense epiphany that there's no turning back. This is it. This is your life now. Dirty diapers and snot and whining and constant eating and jokes about body noises and hitting and biting and yelling and crying. This is life. And it only gets worse. They get older and learn how to talk and communicate and reason and manipulate and make comparisons to other people's lives and other people's parents. And then they become teenagers and you find yourself, hating them, but only for a second and very rarely. And you wonder what you've ever done to create such a selfish monster. What parenting book did you forget to read that would have prepared you for, no prevented, this behavior?
And then they graduate and although they've given you hell and brought you to your knees in gut wrenching cries more times than you can count, you still love them and slip into a tiny depression at the realization that they're old enough to leave you. You've been preparing them their whole lives to be independent and free thinkers and open minded and open-hearted. You've taught them how to use a check book, a debit card, the dangers of credit, to communicate with authorities and take responsibility for their actions. It's time to let them go and you momentarily forget all the chaos that you went through in raising them and start to beg them to just stay a little longer. "Do a year at home, live here while you look for a job. I can help." But no. They're ready. It's time. And mentally, they're already gone. They've started their new adventures. One's that don't include you or hikes at the park, or looking for worms under rocks in the back yard. Adventures that have nothing to do with helping you make cookies and learning how to spell their name. No, these new adventures of theirs are scary. Ones that could get them physically hurt or worse yet, emotionally. Their hearts are going to get broken and their confidence shattered and you know it but your role has changed and they don't want to hear your wisdom or be consoled with your hugs and words of encouragement. So you stay quiet and promise yourself that they need to learn some lessons on their own. They want this and they're ready and it's time.

Fast forward 10 years. Your baby hasn't been a baby for a long time. She's married and a mom herself and she's got this whole life and friends and a job and responsibilities. She had rough years through her early 20's, had her heart broken like you knew she would, but she's made it through. She's happy and healthy and in love and a mom. She has started on this journey that is so familiar to you and you remember your own beginnings like it was just yesterday when you looked at that pregnancy test and saw the "plus" sign. You marvel a little at how karma really does exist and try not to laugh when your grandchildren hit and bite and yell at their mom, your daughter. It's been 30 years of a journey that is un-comparable. It's been 30 years of worry and fighting and angst, and tears. But above all it's been 30 years of deeply routed, unconditional, continuous love. A love that has been through valleys and climbed up mountains and plummeted to the depths of hell and back again. A love that has been the hardest love you've ever experienced. A love that has conquered and has grown and has flourished. A love that, although you found it hard to imagine, you hoped would be contagious and would be passed on through other people as your child grew older. And it has. The love your daughter has for her children is proof that you did it right. That you loved her the right way. The best way you could and in the only way she understood. You loved her perfectly because you created love in her world and you continued to use that love to raise her, care for her, discipline her, instruct her and guide her. She is who she is because of you. Because of your love. You are her heart beat. And she is yours. For better, for worse. Forever and Always.

Bela turns 4

Last week our growing girl turned 4. She celebrated with a Brave Party at Drace Park (where we always do her parties) The weather was perfect as it has been every year. The turnout was wonderful and she had a great time.

   

A Superhero I am Not

If I had Superman's speed I could be so much more productive. I could get everything done and still have time to be crafty and creative. Sometimes I over extend. I know this is a normal problem with moms and women in general, but I often make the mistake of assuming that I don't fit into the same mold. I tell myself that I am unique and in a 7 day period can manage to work 20 hours, be home with my kids 5 of those 7, do all the laundry, cleaning, cooking, disciplining and gardening. I do start all those things, but none of them always get seen to completion.
I long to be an expert gardener. I long to have sewing skills that allow me to whip up new outfits and decor items in no time. I long to provide healthy, balanced and yummy meals for my family every day. I long for many things. Unfortunately my garden will probably be overcrowded as usual this year b/c of my inability to plan for proper spacing, watering, soil pH  etc. My sewing machine will continue to win in our battles of who's in charge b/c I don't have time to re-read the manual and don't sew enough to remember how I did it last time. And we'll probably eat take out or left overs way more than I care to admit because trying to cook every night is sometimes just too much.
Yes, it would be nice if I could move at the speed of light, turn back time and fly (because who doesn't wish they could fly?). But I'll have to settle with "good enough" abilities because, tonight, that's all I've got.

Love Language

Growing up in a Christian community there was a lot of talk about love languages. We took tests to see how we received love and how we offered love. We compared our styles to our peers and tried to evaluate, on our own, if those results were actually accurate. I think my love languages have changed as I've matured and dealt with different trials, ups and downs in my life. I've reached a point where I think things have leveled out, so to speak, and the way I love and receive love has become pretty steady. Maybe it's because I'm married, I have a regular routine, I have children, I'm a home owner. And maybe it's none of those things. Maybe it's just who I am. Either way, I find peace in my love language of gifts. When someone puts in the time and effort to give me something thoughtful, unique, and heart felt, I see their love for me through it. Oh man, and when it's something they made themselves, it's like Christmas in my heart! It's not that I love getting gifts. It's that I see the love someone has for me through their desire to make me happy. And if you know me or someone with the same love language, you understand this.

Many people offer love in one language and receive it in a different one. Mine however are the same. I find so much joy in giving someone a gift as much as in receiving one. It's difficult b/c I'm married to a man who's does not receive love through gifts. So as much as I love giving creative things to my husband, I know that he doesn't receive them with the same enthusiasm  It's not because he's ungrateful, it's just not how he interprets love. This has been a hard lesson for me in my marriage. I can't tell you how many times I've been so excited to show him something I created, or purchased specifically for him and then had to fight disappointment because he didn't react in the way I wanted him to. I'm still learning of course, but I've grown a lot in the ability to remind myself that although I should continue to pursue my love language, I should not be discouraged when someone else doesn't receive it equally.

Anyways, I've done a lot of loving this week. Starting with meals for a cousin with a new baby, another cousin with some health problems and  then some muffins for a good friend getting over the flu. Although I don't envy the stress that comes with any of their situations, I'm grateful for them in their current conditions so that I have an excuse to love on them in my own delicious, home made way.

It's Been a Pinterest-ing Week

So after about 6 weeks, the kids and I are finally into our routine on Monday, Wednesday and Friday; the days that I am *pretty much* home with them all day. This week particularly, I've been able to get a lot done that involves pulling stuff off of my Pinterest boards and actually completing them.

I started with a pin about growing your own plants/trees from left over seeds. I had bought some avocados and a pineapple at the store so those are the two I'm growing. So far not much has happened but I'm pretty sure it takes awhile. I'll let you know how that goes....

I recently made a cushion for our large bay window. That's seriously been on my list for the full 6.5 years we've lived here. Oh well. (And by "make a cushion" I mean I found a long cream colored valance that had been hanging in the same bay window when we moved in and has since been stored in a box in the basement, stuffed it with some extra pillows and poof, a comfy neutral toned full length cushion.)

Anywho, the cushion wasn't quite long enough so I stuck some other throw pillows we had at each end. Now the orange and red ones were perfect but I had these two other little ones that had originally been from a bed set that we don't use. So I found another unused valance, the same color as the one used on seat cushion and got the idea to put some scripture in Espanol with a stencil from this pin. The first is Joshua 24:15 and the second is 1st John 4:19.

We have one window in our bedroom that was in desperate need of a spruce up. So I created fabric flowers, glued them onto an existing curtain tie, and then glued on a button so I could hook it together once I wrapped it around the drape.

I created a sign for our front porch. It says "welcome" in Spanish. Carlos thought there should be an "s" on the end of the word, but after doing some research online I was able to find lots of welcome mats, signs, etc, with the same word, minus the "s". You'd think that a native Spanish speaker and a college graduate with a degree in the same language would be able to figure out something so simple  Oh well. The idea for the sign came from here. And the way I made it came from here. And I mean seriously, it was so easy! I'm going to be making lots of signs!

Finally, this pillow. I didn't make it, my mom did. But the flower in the middle was quite fragile and so we weren't able to keep it anywhere that the kids could reach. But I liked the colors and the style and have been meaning to figure something out in order to be able to use it on our bed. So I took off the original flower and then cut out a bunch of fabric circles and then glued them all together.

The best part about my crafting... I did no sewing at all. Hot glue is my new best friend! 

I also made a couple recipes off of Pinterest including this and this and this. I didn't get pictures of them before they were gone.

Needless to say, it's been a good week.

Princess's and a Birthday

Bela has a limited number of actual friends. I mean being three years old kind of limits her ability to get out and there and fill her social agenda. However on the one day of preschool she goes to each week she's managed to make a real friend. I mean all the kids are her "friends" but Leena is like her FRIEND. She talks about her a lot and the teachers comment on how they're super close during their activities.
So today, Leena had a birthday party. A princess party. One where the attendants were required to wear a princess dress. I mean this was the real deal.

   

It was adorable and so well put together. Leena's mommy did a fantastic job. Even dad particpated by putting on a sharp looking suit and passing out pink lemonades in champagne glasses presented on a silver tray. Pure elegance for all the tot sized royalty.

TMI...I mean really

If you have no desire to read about poop in the tub, I suggest you stop reading now. No really... This is me warning you. I don't want anyone complaining about how I wrote on such a gross topic. No one is forcing you to read. Ok, so we're clear, yes? Good...






Tonight at bath time, both kids were playing in the tub. Carlos and I were close by cleaning up the kitchen. This is how the next 5 minutes went down.

*Bela screaming from the bathroom*
Me: (I run in to see what the big deal is)(When I arrive on the scene, Bela is standing on the bathroom floor and R is sitting in the tub) Why are you screaming?
Bela: There's popo in the tub!
Me: RICKY!!! GROSS!!!
Bela: No, it was me!!!
Me: Bela, that's disgusting, why on earth would you do that?!! (This is a kid that has been potty trained for over almost 2 years and hasn't had an accident of that magnitude since, I don't know when.)
Bela: I don't know! I just had to!
Me: OK, well Ricky, get out! And Bela I'm not cleaning this. You know better than to do that and you know when you're body needs to go. You know to listen to your body! There is no excuse. So you are going to clean that up!
Bela: (Breaks down and starts yelling) I AM NOT CLEANING THAT UP! I DON'T WANT TO CLEAN THAT UP!
Me: Well, I don't either. I spent 2 years cleaning stuff like that from your body and I'm done. You are going to clean it and perhaps that will teach you to never let that happen again!
Bela: (repeats protest)
Me: Well then you can stay in that bathroom all night with a stinky tub, because you're not coming out until it's clean!
Bela eventually realized I was totally serious and submitted to my demands. I grabbed some paper towels, a plastic bag, threw them at her and said "best of luck".... Ok, not really. I helped her.

But no joke, that will teach her not to poop in my tub.
#ThisIsNotWhatISignedUpFor