The Cutting Edge

Before Cora made her earthly debut, she went to the Utero Salon to get her tips frosted.

It's fuzzy, but you can still see.

Then when her newborn hair fell out (that part always makes me a little sad),  it grew in as fine, straight, soft-as-silk baby hair.

In time, a new batch grew in, and it was curly!  Like bouncy, boingy, fun to play with curly!

And we loved it.  

Nevermind the Ugly Christmas sweater.  It was a varied photo shoot for all the different grandparents.

But as it grew and grew and grew, I noticed that the top layers of her hair were straight.  I was afraid that we'd eventually lose the curl.

Boing! Boing! Boing!

Recently, though, I've pretty much had it with the snarls.  And the food getting in it.  And the split ends.  What "four girl" has split ends? 

Snarls after jumping on the trampoline?  Oh, yes!

When her hair was "done" it usually looked like this.

So last spring I mentioned to Hubby that it might be time for Miss Cora to get a haircut.  His response?  "Over my dead body!"  So it stayed over the summer...until now.

Ready for her very first haircut at 4 years, 10 months.

I think the goofball smile means she likes it.

Cute & Sassy hair on a Cute & Sassy girl.

Enough of my own

In the last couple of days, the Lord has been trying to tell me something.  I found four--four--blog entries from different places that said very, very similar things.

This one from my new-fave Scenes From the Wild and this one that someone on facebook shared even have the same word in the title: enough.  This one has very similar sentiment, expressed in a way that this Type-A Mama completely and totally relates to.  And this one simply reminds me that motherhood can be a touch trying every now and then (there really needs to be a sarcasm font), but that it can be a wonderful, beautiful thing when we rely on God to lead, guide, instruct--and frankly, carry--us along.  Plus another one I just remembered from a sweet friend struggling through a horrific nightmare who asked that we cherish our little ones when we can.  (See #11 to see the connection.)

They all add up to tell me the same thing:  take time to savor the little moments with the little (and big) people in my life.

So today instead of diligently chipping away at my mile-long we'releavingtomorrowtostayinCanadaforaweek List when the first thunderstorm of the year rolled in, I went outside and sat with my boys on the lawn to watch.  Later I came in specifically to tell Abby about it, and she joined us.  Sadly, Cora fell asleep on the floor at 8:30, and didn't join the fun until Alex & Lee brought their loud joyous exclamations inside.  Even Wes learned to point at the sky at random times and yell, "WHOOOAAAA!!!!"

I love thunder & lightning, and I love my kiddos even more.  I love them enough to put down my List for an hour and sit in the grass to wonder at the pure amazingness that is Nature.

~~And because I'm the awesome mom that I am, it is 10:30 and the children (except Wes) are still up, huddled by the window watching for more.  The boys are so ecstatic that they're barely able to form sentences, and their frames seem about to burst apart from sheer joy overload.  Their passion makes my heart smile.~~

Making Fun

I've discovered that being happy is not something that just happens.  Happiness is a decision.  It's something that we need to do.  So I've decided that one of the things that I'm going to do to foster said happiness is to put down the broom/laundry/phone/keyboard and spend time with my children doing fun things.

Lately my sweet, tender Alex has been requesting more time from me.
"Mom, will you watch Despicable Me with us?"
"Mom, can we go to the park and you can help me fly my kites?"
"Mom, will you play a game with us?"

Confession time:  I'm not a play mom.  I'm a business mom.  I'm a get-it-done-then-you-can-play-while-I-keep-working-on-my-own-stuff mom.  And I am definitely not a park mom.  After about 20 minutes of pushing on swings and "Watch Me"ing down the slide, I'm done.

I'm a boring mom.

And that's no fun.  Because when Fun walks in the door, often it brings along its good friend, Happy Memories.  (As long as it's Good Clean Fun, not one of its less savory cousins.)  So I've decided that it's good to make fun times, even if I don't feel like it.  Well, especially when I don't feel like it.

We love blueberry picking, and I'm grateful that the owners don't mind the berries Wes-sitting.

 

Not sure what's bluer--the berries or Cora's half-moon smiling eyes!

This kid picked 6.8 lbs in 20 minutes!!!  We call these 'big fat juicies.'

Seriously.  20 minutes.  I love this place.

!?!?!

Yesterday we walked to an elementary school nearby just to play on the toys, and the kids really enjoyed this.

(Please note that in order for me to take this photo, I had to be ON the merry-go-round.  If only I could see Lee's face.  Breaking out of my Boring just long enough to play and NOT barf.)

I heart staticy slide hair.  And I heart these boys.

This kid jumps all. the.time.

Riah says that when he looks deep into her eyes he just wants to drink them up.
Weird, but I totally get it.

The older two & I played on the map.  I haven't done that in years, but I had fun and found out that I need to brush up on my U.S. geography.  I won't admit how many state names my children and I completely forgot.

Sometimes Abby really steps into taking care of Weston.  She adores him.  She put him on the swing without being asked, and kept him safe.  (Sorry about the formatting.  I know what I did wrong, but don't want to take the time to fix it.)



She took him on the spider web thingy.



Even though he's not smiling here, he really enjoyed it.  If he ended up on the ground, he reached up, wanting back on.



That is a happy boy.

I dug these out of the toy rotation box and the kids have been sleeping in them for the last 4 nights.  There's a tent, teepee and two tubes.  They clutter up the living room, but they sure like the novelty!

Plus they make a nice place to play chess...until Weston finds the door.
And I hope you're sitting down...

...because I actually played Fort Twister.

Lee and Cora haven't figured out the fun of twisting around your neighbor.
That's probably a good thing.

Wes wanted to play, too!

Alex likes to challenge himself, finding the least convenient place for his hands and feet...

...and this is what inevitably happens.

And I am currently sitting here grateful for photos because the good, fun times can be captured and hopefully the crankies forgotten.  Off to tidy a bit while the kids finish Despicable Me so we can go try to fly the kites at the park when it's done.  Wish us luck!

Sometimes it's hard to be happy.

Now don't get me wrong, I haven't given up.  I still have the determination that I will be happy, fun, playful...all those good things from my last post.  But sometimes it's hard.

Like when you're really, really tired.

Or when you're trying to get the house cleaned up and 5 children ready to go visit their beloved cousins, then pick up Dad from the airport and certain of them will not not not stay on task no matter what.  Heck, they won't even start the task!  Even if you mention that if our stuff isn't done we won't go have cousin time after all.  OR if you tell them that before the neighbors (who are moving today) can't come play until the downstairs is tidied.

[Side note: there is something about laundry that brings out the worst in some of us.  Namely, Lee and Cora.  And me.  Because after literally hours of asking nicely, reminding, reprimanding, etc it's STILL in a pile.  Well, the pile would usually be strewn, flattened and flung so much that it looks like a laundromat exploded in my living room by that point.  I can pretty much guarantee that unless I fold a large amount of the laundry myself while Cora invents new and creative ways to fold her Hello Kitty underwear, it won't get done. And even then it often 'misses' the dresser drawers.  Inevitably there are time-outs and wall-sits and pops on the behind...oh, and yelling.  Plenty of yelling.  But yesterday there was much, much more patience and much, much less of the other junk.  I'll take my small victories where I can, thankyouverymuch!]

Remember this?  Some things take a long, long time to change.  And at least THAT was dirty!

It's also hard to be happy when you're very, very disappointed.  You see, Riah's original plan was to fly home today.  Beautiful, glorious Wednesday morning.  We'd leave Tuesday morning, play all day with cousins, jump on the trampoline, swim in the lake, laugh and have a generally excellent time.  Then we'd get up, meet him at the airport for a joyous reunion mid-morning, and--SURPRISE--catch a matinee showing of Despicable Me 2 as a family treat.  We never--and I mean never--go to movies as a family.  It's so expensive, and the little littles are so squirmy!  Then we'd head back to Carin & Scott's until after dinner, at which point we'd head home because Riah's LPN NCLEX was the next morning.

Cora never stops talking about her cousins...especially this red-headed cutie pie

But the project needed more time.  So we bumped it.  Just by one day.  That was no big deal.  Reschedule dentist appointments, call my backup sitter for the boy I watch in the mornings, not convenient, but not too bad.

Last night I got a call from Riah; his dad needs him on the project through the end of the week.  It's hard for him, but he's not here to comfort Alex when he bursts out in frustrated tears and pounds the floor because all of a sudden we're not leaving tomorrow morning after all.  And I don't know when we will.  It's a huge letdown.  

BUT!  If you buy four completos, it's only four dollars!

Sorry.  We love Kid History around here, and if 'BUT!' ever comes up, it's always followed by a line about completos.  Anyway...

BUT!  (It's Silver Lining time.)

*The unfinished tasks were left unfinished and there was no late-night rush to get everything done.*

*I was able to read another chapter of Mossflower to the kids before bed.*  (It's a prequel to Brian Jacques' novel Redwall, and it's the only big fat fiction book that Alex has e.v.e.r. sat down and inhaled in a few days.  Ever.)*

*And when Cora fell asleep on top of the pile of clean towels, I left her there and scooped her unfolded laundry into a basket, to wait for another day.*

Today we don't have anything on the agenda, so I'm going to figure out something fun for us to do.  All of us.  Today I'm going to play with my kiddos.

Hinting

Heavenly Father has been giving me little hints lately about where I am and where I need to be.  As usual, it's taken quite a few to get my attention.  I really can be quite thick sometimes.

But He's reached me in a handful of different ways:
--my recent meh-pression self-diagnosis,

--the long-time feeling of being lukewarm, "So then because thou art lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will spue thee out of my mouth." --Revelation 3:16

--the almost achy longing I have for friends.  Like friends friends.  Someone calling me to ask if I can go play, then staying out until really way too late laughing until we cried.  The hint came in the form of the realization that if I want to have a friend, I've got to BE a friend.  And how many women around me are feeling the same way?  Probly a lot.
--reading backwards in time through my own blog.  Lately it's been all mopey and depressing, not to mention sporadic.  It's pretty pathetic until I got fired, but before that it was different.  It was witty, funny and chipper (not trying to toot my own horn here, but even my 12yo commented that it was funny).  Even though I had 4 kids, (Riah's) inconsistent income, a gross house, a busy social life and INSANE work responsibilities, I was happy.  I was happy enough to see the silver lining and blog about it instead of a bunch of blech.  Reading my own words helped me see the difference between then and now.

--this.  I saw it posted on facebook, and I read it.  I left it open for days because I knew if I closed it out I'd never find it again.  I read it again and again and again.  It resounded because now that I'm much quieter, I can hear all the garbage that my children verbally throw at each other.  But that's not what I want.  What really struck me about this article was the photos.  You can tell that every one of those big brothers ADORES that little sister.  Words like 'dote' and 'love' and 'play' and 'fawn' and 'patient' and...so many good words that I could SEE all around them.  And I would love Love LOVE for my children to adore one another.

I may or may not have read backwards the entries on that blog until almost 3:30 in the morning because I was so taken by this family.  Yeah, the kids argue and annoy each other.  It happens.  But they also treasure their siblings in such a tangible way.  I mean, how often does this happen?  (Seriously.  Read it.  It is something else.)  And the funny thing is that while I was reading and watching fun videos and looking at amazing photos, not once did I dejectedly think, "I want her life.  pfft!  Like that's ever gonna' happen."  Instead--and this a big deal for me--I thought, "I love that.  I would love that in my home.  What can I do to make our family relationships more like theirs?"  Usually it's just a mild coveting thing, then looking at what I've got and giving up before I even start.  But not this time.  I told Riah this morning about it when he called (btw, if you're ever tempted to lose your cell phone while out of town...don't.  It's not all it's cracked up to be.) and he was surprised and impressed at the different attitude.

I love the focus that this mom has on happiness.  And thinking about all that happiness made me realize something:

I'm not happy.  I haven't been happy for a long time.  My writing shows it, my marriage shows it, my children show it...even my waistline shows it!

And I want to be happy.

I want to be Happy.
I want my children to love being home.
I want to be twitterpated again.
I want to be funny, cheerful, outgoing, witty, silly--all those things I used to be, and still am somewhere.
I want to shine.
I want my home to be a place where people come and they can FEEL a difference.
I want my children's best friends to be each other.
I want to cherish the moments I have with my monkeys.
I want the wisdom to know when to cross off half of my to-do list and play with the kids.
I want to live to my potential.

And guess what?  That's what the Lord wants, too.  He wants me to be happy.  He didn't suffer in Gethsemane and conquer death so I could trudge through life.  He wants me to skip and dance and laugh, thoroughly enjoying the world and body He gave me.  He made it possible for our families to stay together after this life not because we have to, but because we want to.  And I want to.

I want to be Happy.

Confessing

I have a confession:

I interrupt my children.  

Quite often.

I don't do it to be rude or because I think that what I have to say is more important (though sometimes it's more pressing, like if it's got something to do with looking where one is going or to get the scissors from a certain toddler or something petty like that).  I do it because a) I want to help and b) can be impatient.

I do it because sometimes language development involves taking an eternity to spit out one blasted sentence!  And when I already know where the child is going with what he's saying, isn't it a good thing to help supply the phrasing he's looking for and make it possible for the rest of the world to keep spinning?

I thought so.  Until I started being driven bonkers by everyone interrupting everyone else (especially me) and one day I realized that it was because I have been interrupting them for as long as they've been talking!

oops.

So I've been working on that for the last 6 months or so, and I'm getting better about that.  But still it's hard when you know what a child needs and you can give it to them in about 2 seconds instead of watching them struggle.  Rather, it's better to wait until that child has been given the time to process, figure out and select which words are the ones he wants to use.  Sometimes he'll ask for help finding the word he's looking for, and it's usually right there on the tip of my brain, waiting for him to ask.  Or I'll see the struggle, get impatient, and offer the word that I think it might be.

This afternoon I was thinking--shocker!--and had a little light bulb moment that Heavenly Father works in the same way.  He can give us exactly what we need in about 2 seconds, but because He loves us, He waits patiently and lets us process, struggle, problem-solve, try again, fall down, get back up and do whatever we do until we ask Him for help.  Sometimes, however, I think maybe he gets tired of waiting for us and offers us little hints about what we He already knows we need.  (Disclaimer:  in absolutely no way do I believe that God has any imperfections like impatience.  Hopefully you get the gist of what I'm trying to say.)

That's what He's done for me; I've had lots of hints lately.

And I'm finally starting to get it.  But I don't want this to get really long because then it's a chore to read.  So I'll elaborate later and finish with one of my favorite jokes...it's one of the few I can actually remember.

Knock Knock

Who's there?

Interrupting Cow

Interrupting Co--
MOO!

Orange Rhino Days something - something else

I don't know.  I'm not really keeping track of this.  At first I was, and I'd call Hubby (who was out of town when I started this all) and brag that I'd only yelled once that day.  Well, 'brag' isn't quite the right word, but he knows how much of an accomplishment this is!  Or maybe twice, but 'fillintheblank' is my lame rightful excuse.  Blahbity Blahbity Blah.  Whatever.

The point is, I'm improving.

Have I had a day when I didn't get upset?  No way.
Have I had a day when I didn't raise my voice?  Not on your life.
Have I had a day when I didn't lose it a little bit?  I wish.

But have I had a day when I lost it?  Nope.
But have I had a day when I flipped out?  Nuh-uh.
But have I had a day when I raged at anyone shorter than me?  Negatory, good buddy.

And THAT, my dear, is brag-worthy.  At least for me.  Which is really, really sad.  Because these kiddos...

(well, not ALL of them.  This is all but 5 of the cousins from my side of the family)

...these funny, crazy, awesome, wonderful monkeys are really what make my world go round.  Some days it rotates a little faster or wonkier than others, but that comes with the territory.

Anyway--I've been praying praying more consistently, which I believe is HUGE in this whole thing.

I've had a few million times when I had to shop myself mid-sentence for a ginormous breath and do physical things to calm myself down.  Things like consciously lower my shoulders and shake my arms out.  Or even growl at the ceiling.  Yes, I've snapped.  Yes, I've increased the tone, volume and intensity of my voice.  I'm not SuperMom yet.  And just because I'm not hollering doesn't mean that all of a sudden they listen and obey like they should.  (Man, I super wish that!)

(On a side note, I've wondered to myself and asked the children so, SO many times why I have to yell in order for them to even hear that I'm talking to them.  I just don't get it.)

So with all this less yelling and more talking and such, I've learned something:

The kids yell at each other.  A lot.  Especially the boys.  But now Cora has replaced the concept of "please don't do that" with an ear-splitting, shriek.  Lovely.  Abby's 12 now, and she's snippy and bossy to her siblings anyway, which is something that we've been working on.  Even Weston's joining in the squawky fun!  But the boys--wowie wow wow can they bellow!

And hearing the way that my children go at each other sometimes is hard for me.  (It's not hard 'sometimes,' the 'sometimes' modifies how often they go at each other.  And if it's the boys, 'sometimes' means a few times a day.)  In the moment I see/hear it and am simultaneously irritated that they're yelling for no good reason, ashamed because they learned it from me, understanding because I get that a raised voice has been their model and patient because I know that it will take a long, long time for my habits to be so changed and ingrained that they trickle down to their subconsciouses, too.  Of course, I always wonder why--if they're emulating my behavior--do they skip the first 3 times of asking nicely plus a couple of firm reminders and jump straight to the "I've had it" part.  I've always wondered that.

But in the meantime, I am accepting that I'm not perfect.  I am accepting that this will take time.  And I am accepting that this is a big change that will need to be made one millisecond day at a time.  And mostly I'm cognizant that I am raising five of Heavenly Father's wonderful, amazing, choice immortal spirits who are here having mortal experiences.  It's my job, my stewardship, my privilege to raise them up to Him by being loving, supportive, kind, good, loving, respectful, patient, sensitive, empathetic and loving.  Not mean.  By being a righteous mother in Zion I sort of feel that in helping them reach their potential I am fulfilling my own a little more, too.

And anyway, I love my crazy little brood!