I love you, too

Sometimes she sings it, sometimes she says it sweetly, but nearly everytime, it is unexpected and makes me smile. 

"I love you, too, Mommy!"

Of course, I love to hear my kids tell me that they love me, but what makes this phrase special to me at times like this morning is that Everly says it before I tell her that I love her.  And she doesn't always say it like this.  In a normal conversation I might say, "I love you, Ev." And she will respond appropriately.  Sometimes she tells me, "I love you, Mommy."  And I will respond.

But I just love it when she starts off with, "I love you TOO, Mommy!"  Because it makes me feel like she knows how much I love her...even before I say it, even without words.

Contrast

Over the past several years, I have really come to appreciate contrast in life.  The winter makes me appreciate the summer more.  The loud house makes me appreciate the quiet.  The busyness makes me appreciate the calm.  And vice versa.

The summer helps me to appreciate the winter...so do my kids.

My kids are typically good sleepers, but recently, we have had a string of sleepless nights.  In the middle of the night, we have heard screams of "My knee hurts!" (growing pains?)  "I'm wet!!!" (Pull-up failed.)  "I can't find Sasha!"  (The babydoll.  Seriously?!)  And "I spit up!"  (I would have said "puked"...all over the bed and floor and IN the bedframe...twice.)  So when I went to bed last night and didn't wake again until this morning when my alarm went off, let's just say I haven't been so appreciative for a full night's sleep in quite a while.

I also was appreciative of a recent great run (even on freshly snow-covered roads) after numerous slow, exhausting, horrible runs that made me wonder what ever could have possessed me to sign up for a May race. 

So happy to have had a great run that I am including this totally awful picture taken right after. 

And as good as that snowy run was, it made me appreciate the 60 degree run around the lake a few days later even more.  And on my way home, when it suddenly poured and then stopped, I certainly appreciated the beautiful rainbow that filled the sky.

Just a request

When your kid sits down for breakfast next to mine and yours is eating cola gummies while mine are eating bananas, please don't feel the need to justify.  We all have our own battles to deal with - you don't have to explain your reasoning to me.  I promise to not judge you if you promise to not judge me when the tables are turned some day.  And PLEASE do not procede to tell me (in front of my kids and yours) about how your daughter throws a fit when she has to take medicine and that she gets to eat "junk food" for breakfast if she finally downs it.  If that is your strategy and it works, fine by me.  We all have to pick our battles and sometimes just need to find a means to an end.  Just DON'T TELL ME THIS IN FRONT OF MY CHILD.  Because he had to take yucky tasting medicine this morning, too, and he is eating a banana.  And the look on his face while hearing all about this says to me, "Wait.  I can negotiate when I take my medicine?"  Should be interesting to see how this one plays out...

Keeping on

I just finished reading an article about Sherry Arnold and I am feeling pretty sad.  Sherry is a mom of five, a high school teacher, and a runner.  She went for a morning run last weekend and wasn't seen alive by her family again.  Two suspects were arrested but little information is being released by authorities about how she died.  My heart is aching for her family, her children, her students, her friends.  I can't imagine the pain they must be enduring right now.  As a fellow a mom and high school teacher, this is devastating.

As a runner, I am also a little angry.  You see, recently, not far from where I live, two women were assaulted near their homes after returning from early morning walks.  The man hasn't been caught, and similar attacks have occurred in another community not too far away that authorities are suspecting may be related.  In this low-crime, very safe suburb, women who have never been scared before are scared.  One of my best friends, also a runner and a teacher, has recently learned how to load a shotgun.  This upsets me.  Don't get me wrong - I am not upset that she knows how to load a gun.  I am upset because there was a reason she felt the need to learn. 

I am angry because when I woke up Saturday morning, I decided not to run.  I decided not to run because in order to get back in time to prepare for my son's birthday party, I was going to have to leave at 6:30 AM.  It is dark at 6:30 AM.  Sherry Arnold left her house at 6:30 AM.  I have run at 6:30 AM and earlier many, many times.   I am always cautious and vigilant, aware of my surroundings, and choose my routes carefully.  I am especially cautious about traffic; I try to make eye contact with as many drivers as possible, I wear visible clothing, blinking lights, follow all rules of the road, and stick to low traffic areas as much as possible.  But Saturday morning, I decided not to go.

I am training for a half-marathon; I don't have a treadmill or a gym membership.  I work full time.  My options are limited, and I typically run in the dark during the week.  I will probably continue to do so.  But I am angry that I am thinking twice.  I am angry that there are women all over this country who have heard the story of Sherry that are thinking twice.

Why did I choose running in the first place?  Because I had a baby at home and little spare time and I could lace up my shoes and head out the door.  Freedom from the schedule of an exercise class.  Freedom from a gym and membership.  Freedom from having to drive to a location to exercise.  Freedom to be outside in the fresh air and to just run.

And now I feel that a little bit of freedom has been taken from me and countless other mother runners who kiss their kids goodbye before they leave with every intention of returning as a better mom.  Or at least returning.

I began this post on Saturday; it is now Tuesday and I am finally getting back to it.  I have since run 12 miles - seven during the middle of the day on Sunday and five in the dark last night. I woke this morning to find a blog post in my inbox from the authors of Run Like a Mother with reminders of safety tips that any runner should review.  I am certainly going to be more mindful.  And with a refusal to be terrorized, I have decided that I am going to keep running and find that freedom again.

I hope that the guy in my area is caught soon.  I hope that Sherry's family sees justice served and they find strength to get through the grieving process.  I hope that all the runners out there return home safely.  And that they keep on running.

My favorite Everly quotes of the week

"Dat was a cose one!" 
     -Said many times in various situations such as almost falling off the step stool, almost spilling her water, and almost dropping her toy.

"I shaved its yife!"
     -Surprisingly, also said several times this week.  I am having a hard time remembering exactly whose life she saved, but I think one of the lives may have been Dora's, as we finally cleaned her tank.

"Dude" and "Bud"
    -What she calls her brother, at the funniest moments, such as when Cortlan was complaining about not liking his medicine, which had been flavored at the pharmacy and she said, "It's strawberry, Dude!"


"I toughen up."
     -After being told countless times to "toughen up buttercup," she may finally be getting the hint.  Looking at me and saying, "I ok; I toughen up" was her reaction when she stumbled off of her step stool this evening - much better than the wail for a boo boo buddy for a boo boo that doesn't really exist.  I think Ev and I may have some issues if she is as high maintenance as she has shown us she is capable of being, so this is a step in the right direction.  What might not be good is her telling her brother to "toughen up, buttercup."  That didn't go over so well.

Happy Birthday, Cortlan!

I am now the mother of a five-year-old.  Crazy.

This birthday will be remembered for a number of reasons:

1. This was the birthday without heat.  We realized that our furnace was not working last night as the temperature began to fall rapidly.  Sure enough, the ignitor needs to be replaced.  We got ready for work this morning in a 60 degree house (it could have been much worse) warmed by two space heaters.  The breaker went off when I tried to blow dry my hair, but all in all, not too bad of a morning, considering.  We kept a heater going for Elly (the dog) and Dora (the fish) in our bedroom throughout the day.  They were fine when we got home; the temp was 58 degrees.  Hopefully by tomorrow afternoon, all will be back to normal.
2. We listen to Sirius XM Kids Place Live all the time on the way to and from school.  On our way home, Absolutely Mindy is usually giving her birthday missions: she announces ten kids' names and gives them missions that they have to complete so they can become another year older.  I may have been the most excited of all when they announced Cortlan's name, where he is from, and that he was turning five today.  The funny thing is that one of the missions was to do a Freeze Dance in the living room.  Honestly, it was too cold to do a freeze dance in our living room.  We are postponing the birthday missions until it is warmer in our house.  That may be a later post.
3. Another result of the cold house was that we didn't spend much time here.  Instead, we went out for pizza - Cort's requested birthday meal - and frozen yogurt at Yum.  We had never been there before, but Yum is a place where you get to serve yourself from eight or so flavors of frozen yogurt and then choose from about a million toppings.  Then you pay by how much your cup of yogurt + toppings weighs.  Fortunately, Cortlan's was free for his birthday.  He chose an interesting three-flavor combination of gingerbread, vanilla, and very berry with toppings such as chocolate rocks, rainbow sprinkles, and snow caps.  Needless to say, his weighed more than the rest of ours combined.  Everly got a miniature version of his.  She simply adores him and is so proud that he is five now.  She told everyone, "My brudder is FIVE!"

4. The day ended with a few gifts and on a very high note.  Between the crown he wore at school and passing out his cupcakes to his friends, to recieving birthday phone calls (we have got to give him some more practice at talking on the phone), to the fun we had the rest of the day, Cortlan assured me he had a great day.  This was reassuring after last night when as I tucked him in, I excitedly said to him, "This is the last time you are going to sleep as a four-year-old!  I can hardly believe it!  When you wake up tomorrow, you will be a five-year-old!"  I had forgotten that this might not be the most exciting thing for Cortlan.  Whereas most kids are thrilled at the thought of growing up (I know Everly is), Cortlan instead came to near tears.  He more or less told me that he didn't want to move out when he was nine.  (Apparently, that is the age when parents kick their kids to the curb; that is when kids become grown ups.)  I explained to him that he doesn't have to move out at age nine and that he can stay with us for a long, long time.  His concern at that point:  There can't be two Daddys living at the same house.  (Apparantly, when you are a grown up boy, you are also a Daddy and that there is some unspoken rule that having a Daddy and then his Daddy living in the same house is a no-no.)  In my head, I was thinking, "You are darn right you won't be living here when you are a Daddy."  But I told him what he wanted to hear, and what is most likely the absolute truth:  "You can live with us as long as you want to."  As I left the room, he double checked: "Forever?"  I love him.

Happy Birthday, my sweet boy.

It was a Good Day.

I thought I had lost $30 the week before Christmas but this morning I found it.
I was eating my breakfast, which is the last thing I typically do before waking my kids, when one and then the other showed their smiling faces in the kitchen and said "Good morning!"
Everly brought me her pink tights and said, "I want to wea dese today!"

I wish I could say that I taught a killer lesson, but it was fine.
I did, however, have a student ask me about pursuing physics as a career, and I had a former student come back for a visit, which is always nice and validating.

On my way to get the kids from school, I stopped at Aldi's to pick up some peppers and chicken.  While I was there, I found Christmas Reece's peanut butter cups on sale for $0.99.

I picked up the kids, who were as happy as could be, and on the radio, Absolutely Mindy was asking her listeners what they thought makes a "good day." Everly said, "Sunshine."

We got home and I didn't turn on the computer, as I often do. Instead, I changed my clothes and got down on the floor with the kids. We played with the Loving Family dollhouse, the batmobile, and the batcopter, simultaneously. (The babies were superheroes and are, in fact, quite skilled at flying.)

I cooked this for dinner while the kids colored pictures for me.  ("Is this beautiful, Mommy?" Absolutely. "Look, Mommy! I made a "H"!" Awesome!)  And the meal was delicious.

The kids watched fifteen minutes of Sesame Street by request and learned about amphibians while I quickly cleaned the kitchen and read this blog post, which was recommended by a friend. I loved this post and consequently fell in love with the concepts of Chronos time and Kairos time.  

Chronos time is the chronological, sequential time that we live in.  As the author of the post says, "It’s regular time, it’s one minute at a time, it’s staring down the clock till bedtime time, it’s ten excruciating minutes in the Target line time, it’s four screaming minutes in time out time, it’s two hours till daddy gets home time. Chronos is the hard, slow passing time we parents often live in." 

Kairos time is the time in between, a special time, or as the author says, "Kairos is God’s time. It’s time outside of time. It’s metaphysical time. It’s those magical moments in which time stands still."

Kairos is the exact concept of the moments that I try to find and appreciate in my life.  The desire for Kairos may actually be the reason I write this blog.  Not every moment is a Kairos moment, for sure.  But sometimes I think that it is far too easy in this world, in this life, for every moment to become a Chronos one if you don't pay attention, if you don't slow down just a little bit, every now and then.

After my fifteen minutes in the kitchen, I sat on the couch with my arms around my kids who were snuggled up on either side of me and we watched a bit of Abby Cadabby.  I was present.  Without realizing what was happening, I felt my kids' skin, and I watched the smiles slowly form on their faces, and I watched as Everly got down from the couch and danced with reckless abandon, and I noticed Cortlan adjust my hand on his knee and hold his hand on top of mine.  And my senses were overwhelmed, and my heart was full.

What makes a day a good day?  Today, Kairos.  And sunshine.

Happy New Year

The tradition began long ago: each year when I was a child, as we packed up the artificial Christmas tree, my dad would write some notes on the box.  The notes could be big events of the year, memories of the holidays, milestones that were reached, or just random things that came to mind.  The next year, with many of those memories buried along with the tree in the storage room, we would look forward to reading what we had written over the years.

The tradition continues in my house, with a fond trip down memory lane each year as we unpack the tree. The process of taking down the tree after the hustle and bustle and festivities of the holiday season is never one of my favorite things, for the chore itself is time-consuming and not very fun, but also because it marks the end of a wonderful time of the year and of another year's passing.  But I do enjoy the thoughtful reflection of the year behind us as I take the time to write on the box.

So with the year of "Everly was potty trained!" and "Cortlan started gymnastics!" and so much more behind us, it is time to look ahead and to wonder what the new year will bring for us to write about.    It is almost hard to imagine 2012 being as good as the past several years have been, but the great thing about a new year is the sense of hope and possibility, and that I have.  Never one for resolutions, my plan is just to continue to strive to be attentive and present and to enjoy the moments while they last.

Happy New Year!