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On the Topic of Dignity and Privacy – Our Kids’

February 9, 2015 By Laura 3 Comments

I know you’ll hardy be able to even fathom this, but I was not an easy kid to raise.  No, it’s true. Not from the time I was little, all the way through my teens and early 20’s.  My mother even had a nickname for me: ‘Mouth’.  And no, she wasn’t likening me to Steven Tyler or Mick Jagger.  She was referring to my frequent fresh-backtalkin’.  My mouth seemed to have a mind of it’s own, and it was pretty sharp, blunt and quick-witted! Or I thought so, anyway. My mother; well, she wasn’t so impressed.

I wasn’t clueless about the stresses my parents were under all of those years. They suddenly found themselves raising 5 complex kids, had great financial struggles, and were dealing with a host of other issues including health, extended family matters, and the frustration of trying to make dreams come true, for us all, out of nothing.

Knowing all of that at the time, I clearly was not clueless. I was simply….selfish.  Too wrapped up in me, myself, and I, to make their role as parents any easier.  Instead, I made it all so much worse.  I honestly, don’t even know what I would do with me, if I was my parent. (Although in her moments of sheer frustration, my mother did vocalize her wish upon me, a time or two, that I might have a kid just like me, someday.) I can only imagine the frustration and hurt I must have built up in my parents, on some days. My mother in particular, since my father worked so many hours, and my mother was the one there, trying to raise us the best she could. I was enough to handle on my own; never mind that there were 4 other kids being raised, besides me.

How did she manage? Where did she turn to vent, when she had ‘had it up to here’! ( I can still see her today, referring with her hand to that level juuuust over her own head. ).  I know she had some good friends (who also had kids) who she had over, who she had coffee with, and she was always shoo-ing us back outside because they were ‘talking’. Or, sometimes, I’d see the curly cord from that horrid green colored phone on our 70’s wall-papered kitchen wall, snaked through the crack in the doorway to the pantry, where she was talking to someone. Maybe even crying.  [Read more…]

Filed Under: Faith, Into the Light; The Series, Life In General, Parenting, The Big Picture Tagged With: building-up-our-children, dignity, do-unto-others, facebook, Faith, golden-rule, internet-privacy, kids-privacy, kids-self-worth, love, matthew-7-12, parent-support, Parenting, privacy, protecting-our-childrens-privacy, social-media-self-control

Just Maybe, God Pushed Me Down the Stairs. | Health

May 1, 2013 By Laura 17 Comments


I know.

The title….it sounds a little dramatic. But it’s pretty much the conclusion I have come to, after recent events.  You see, I can be pretty darn stubborn.  God knows this about me. I think maybe He tried many times, to get my attention. But I, being as stubborn as I can be, unwisely dismissed His obvious and gentler signs.  So, I think just maybe, He pushed me down the stairs.  Literally. I have 2 things to say to that:

  1.    “OWWW!!”
  2.    “OK, I’m listening now.”**Important to note: This is a true story about my health, and the wake up call that changed everything.  The happenings of these events actually took place quite some time ago now.  I typed this post out as a therapy of sorts, and because I felt it was a story that needed to be told, to other women. In particular, other mothers. But I didn’t have the courage to post it at the time, until now, well over a year to year 1/2 after the events. It’s just a little more personal in nature than my typical posts, and involves speaking of my mother as well – whom I did and do love so very much.  But as my mother, her story is very much interwoven into mine, and an integral part of the story as a whole.  It’s only her permission I would seek, to speak of her. So I’ll presume I have some blessing from Heaven, for the bigger purpose of possibly having some positive impact on others. Perhaps even saving lives. Her story was never a secret, to the many (many!), who loved her, anyway. 
    **Also note: Though I cannot imagine anyone would disagree with me, the details and mentions of my mother are stated as strictly my own personal viewpoints, opinions, and experiences. I am not speaking on behalf of anyone else, but myself.

        In conclusion of this prelude, I would like to state that I have made the many little and good changes in my life, that I needed to make, and all for the better.  – Laura(January 2012)

 I’d venture to guess, I’m like many other mothers.

     Not all, but I am quite sure there are some mothers out there who may read this, and feel they can relate. I’m the one who is always thinking of the health and well-being, of my family. That includes nagging my husband.  (I say nagging, because I cannot tell him what to do, and he knows he doesn’t have to listen to me. Who told him that?). He happens to be quite healthy.  (Perhaps, thanks in part, to me ; ).  He has never had surgery of any kind. Never been hospitalized. He did have to go to the ER once though, which brings to mind a hilarious fishing story, I must tell you sometime.  But he just does not think in terms of protecting his health. He gets exercise, by accident, by working hard. (And we’re thankful to him for that.).  He has a wicked sweet tooth, and if left to his own accord, just eats and drinks whatever sounds good to him. Wearing a mask when paint air-brushing, or working in very dusty construction environments, is a repetitive battle between us.

     But what I can do, and I DO, is encourage and enforce any and all healthy habits in my children, that I possibly can.  On a daily basis. And, I’m good at it.  I am the one, that makes sure they are eating a balanced diet, when looking over the day as a whole, and within each meal. I monitor their sugar intake (which minimal, on treat/surprise basis, and they thank me for it).  They have developed such healthy eating habits choice:  They rejoice out loud, over vegetables at dinner many kids despise, drink tons of water each day, etc. I see so many healthy habits, in terms of consumption, took root with them long ago.  I see to it that they get their regular physical exams, eye exams, regular teeth cleanings, orthodontics, keep them clean, teach them how to shower and properly brush their teeth, make sure they get enough sleep, etc.  They get plenty of daily exercise and fresh air, and play basketball, volleyball, flag football, and ice skating.

     Of course, health comes in many forms. Body, Mind and Spirit. So I also foster their education, give them the tools to nurture their inner passions and dreams, encourage them to serve others or get involved in a ministry that speaks to them, and most importantly, guide them on their path in their faith, to becoming God-loving people, who feel called to serve others with compassion, are kind, and have a general strong and good character.   What drives me to oversee and regulate these things, is the same thing that drives any good mothers:  I want my children to be, now and forever, healthy, and the fulfilled beings God calls them to be.   That takes forming good habits for life, and the earlier they start, the more natural such a lifestyle will be for them.  I  love them with all I am, and so of course, I want the best for them. And anyway, this is the JOB God assigned me to, in blessing me with them. Right?  It may sound like a tall order, but it all comes quite naturally for me. My LOVE for them, is my incentive.

It also comes just as naturally for me, to put myself, last. 

I say these 2 words to myself, all too often:  “I’M FINE.”  And more times than not, if all is well with my kids and husband, all is good in the world. I’m taking care of business pretty well.  In my own mind, I have taken what I thought was acceptable care of myself.  For instance, I don’t eat a lot of junk either.  The kids do eat full blown breakfast and lunches. I mean, I chuckle at their courses.  It must be the Italian in their blood, as every meal seems to be a real event.  Me? Well, I eat when I feel like I need to.  Usually because something is not feeling quite right.  And then I think, “OH, maybe I should eat.” So I stuff a quick carb in my mouth, or eat an apple. As long as it’s fast, because by golly, I have important things to do today!  Everyone tells me, that since I homeschool, and have triplets and/or 4 kids, that they are sure they (the kids schedules) keep me running around, and they just don’t know how I do it.  So I just go with that, and check off exercise. ; )  I have had medical appointments I should make, but REALLY……DO YOU KNOW how many appointments and commitments I am running my kids to on a weekly basis?  I really don’t need any more appointments on my calendar, thank you very much!  And for what?  I’M FINE.  Oh, I may go to one I can’t get out of now and then. But generally, if I can get out of doctor appointments for myself, I do.  Check-ups? Ppffftt!  I’M FINE!

I should know better, really. 

My own mother’s health, was never good.  I loved her very much.  She was a woman of deep and obvious faith in God. She lived it in most every way. She was a strong woman, except for addressing and correcting the treatment of herself. Her addictions, as I know they were, had a lifetime hold on her, that in my eyes, she never tried hard enough to beat. Her health and bad habits, were a constant source of tension and argument, between us. I was a difficult kid to raise. As a teenager, especially, I really gave her a run for her money, and pushed her limits.  But the older I got, and especially after becoming a mother myself, I really came around to understanding where all of her rules and fretting came from: Love for me. She and I really came full circle, and became very close, in the many years before her passing. Except for the health issue.  She was a heavy smoker, did not have healthy eating habits, did not get good exercise, and generally would not get it together. Heart disease and cancer ran in her family, and most every one of her siblings had already died from these things. She was the baby, and was digging her own grave. It was killing me to see her do it. I knew we would lose her sooner than any of us wanted, if she didn’t make efforts to get healthy.  We argued about it many times, and I even went so far as to bravely throw her great faith in God, in her face. Using God’s Word, to make her listen. Because she sure was not listening to me. But it didn’t work.

Her health issues put our whole family through hell many times. After that quadruple bypass heart surgery, she went on to have an aneurysm under her heart that required another emergency the doctor did not expect her to live through. But she did. Then, they couldn’t get her off life support with confidence she would take over breathing on her own.  But she did. However, she spent 5 months in a rehab facility (where she resumed smoking, as it turns out), finally got home and recovered once again.  But, she had a stroke a year later, and lost her speech, some motor skills, and ended up in a wheelchair. My father took care of her through it all, and living 2.5 hours away, we went out to help as much as we could too. Believe it or not, she really bounced back from all of that as well!  She was a ‘bull’, as my father often said. She was tough stuff, but she had said many times she really looked forward to going to Heaven and meeting Jesus, and the Blessed Mother (she loved the Rosary), more than she had the will to fight to live on earth. But she did.  I had prepared myself mentally so many times, for my mother’s imminent death.  She gave us all multiple opportunities. But it was 3 years following her stroke, when she seemed to have more brightness in her eyes, and spunk than ever, she died of a sudden heart attack at home, alone.  It sounds odd to say, but it really was unexpected, at that time.  We were shocked, and devastated.  All of my emotional and mental preparation, was for nothing. For the first time, I truly felt what real grief was. And I was mad at her too. My mother was a beautiful person, who really lacked some discipline with her health.

But I, am not my mother.

Right? In now knowing what my mother’s lifestyle was like, you may be able to imagine why I have presumed myself to be some better picture of health. I am not a smoker. Oh, I was, in my late teens and early 20’s, but I quit that long ago. Over 20 years ago. And I cannot even begin to express how much I despise cigarette smoke, anywhere around. I will go to great lengths, not to expose my children to it, in the least amount. Even outdoors. No one is aloud to smoke anywhere near us.  I do not get the foolishness, of smoking. I find is a repulsive habit. My weight is considered perfectly acceptable, for my height. Quite in the healthy range, I have heard, at my rare doctor appointments.  I’m a busy mom, so I get enough exercise.  I “eat to live, not live to eat”. (How’s that for justification? ; )  I’m running around all of the time. I’M FINE!

 


This is where the story gets…..eye opening.  Possibly comical.

Many weeks back now, I had been having a few really rough weeks.  To put it simply, I was T I R E D, and I was feeling quite pathetic.  Throughout my days, I was doing only what I had to do, for my family and home. I was sending my kids, to get me things in the next room, because the idea of getting up to get it myself, was an overwhelming thought, to me.  I got tired from just standing at the sink, and washing dishes.  I sat on the couch all I could, and flat out lied down and snuck in a nap, if I could. I’d catch a glimpse of me in the mirror, and be shocked at my appearance. I mean…I looked like hell. There was no 2 ways about it.  I looked like I hadn’t slept, in weeks. I was taking a shower and going to bed, soon after dinner.   Are you getting the picture?  All the while, I was really starting to feel very down about myself, and my lack of any energy. I wondered, “When, did I become this pathetic?  I am the picture of lazy. But I’m just so tired. Tomorrow, I’ll do more.”   I was really just having one dark day, after another, for weeks.

Then the day came along, when my husband showed me the mail. There was a letter from our life insurance company.  Apparently, they had put my policy on standby, because I had not followed up with a doctor, following my ER visit over the previous summer. (2010) It said something about severe anemia.  Oh yeah…..Well to make along story short, that summer night some months prior, I had woken up during the night with chest pain, and after not being able to take a good breathe, tingles my arm which then went numb, and breaking out in a cold sweat, I was sure I was suffering a heart attack. Mind you, that’s how my mother died, so I was freakin’. I went to the hospital via ambulance at 4 a.m., and asking them to pu-leaz not use any sirens, and wake up and scare my children. So anyway, doctor staff at the hospital had a few vague guesses as to what happened, but what they were most concerned about was unrelated, but something they had discovered with the blood labs they ran.  They told me I was eanemic, and they were extremely concerned about that. The doctor went on and on at my bedside, but what I could hear most, was my own happy voice in my head, “So, I wasn’t having a heart attack like my mother?  For real?  I’m good?  Sure, o.k., take this iron every day….O.K.  Gotcha! I’m so out of here!” I was so grateful to go home to my family.   A call later from my own physician, informed me I probably suffered a bout of Pleurisy. I did start taking the iron they suggested, but I found it caused other problems. 🙄  So I quit. No time for that.

But here were those words in front of me again, on this insurance letter: 

Severe Anemia.  It sounded familiar…..more familiar than just from the ER.  Hmmm.  Maybe THAT was why I was so tired lately?  But in the big picture at that moment, with that letter in my hand, I was concerned about the life insurance policy thing. I just needed to know that was active. So darn it all……I was going to have to make an appointment to go to the doctors, I guess.  I did, that day.  I went to bed early again, that night.

I slept good and hard, until I woke up because frankly, I had to go potty. Badly. Like….bladder about to burst. Much to my disappointment, there was no ignoring it and going back to sleep.  So I dragged myself up, went, and got back to bed as soon quick as I could. Which, frankly, was not very quick. Lying in bed again, I realized I was winded. “Really?” I thought. “From going potty?” Just then there was a great big crash upstairs.  I mean…..the house shook. I thought our youngest daughter must have fallen out of her bed in her room above us, but she never cried or called us. I could not even believe it, but Michael did not even jump, or miss a beat with his snoring beside me, when the crash happened.  I was annoyed with that. I grew increasingly irked, because now, I was continuing to hear….something upstairs.  Scampering. I thought then, maybe Olivia knocked something off her bed, and now she was searching under her bed in the dark, trying to find it? But it went on, and on, and on.   I wanted to wake Michael up, to go check out what was happening up there. Because I did not want to drag myself out of bed, and climb those stairs?  But then that made me feel pathetic again.  I said to myself, in my head, “Really.  You are going to wake up Michael, who is clearly quite deeply asleep, because you are too lazy to get up and go check yourself.”  That chat with me, made me feel bad enough to throw the covers back once again, and go check myself.

I turned on the stairwell light, and began the climb of the stairs. There seemed to be more steps, than the last time I went upstairs. But finally, I was standing in Olivia’s doorway, looking at her sound asleep on her bed. I could hardly believe my eyes. But, as I stood there and listened…..there was that noise again!  But she was asleep.  I wanted to check my oldest daughter’s room behind me, but all I could really think about was, “I can’t stand here. I want to sit down. Michael needs to do this.”  So I started back down the stairs.  I remember thinking, “It’s a long way to my bed from here….”, and I felt like I was dreaming for a second.  Next thing I know, I was in a whole lot of pain, and in a heap at the bottom of the stairs.  I was trying to stand….as the whole family was jumping out of bed and awake now, wide-eyed and shook up, wondering what just happened. I had fallen all the way down the stairs, and desperately did not want my kids to see me like that and scare them, but I could not find which way was UP.

I eventually got to my bed and got my feet elevated.  Michael got the kids settled and back to bed, and when I finally felt ‘right’ again, I knew something very telling just happened. I had not just slipped or fallen down the stairs.  I literally go so weak, that I literally collapsed and passed out.  I. Hurt. Everywhere.   But I began to figure out what happened.  Not only that night, but had been happening for weeks.  I had to guess that I was running lower, and lower, on iron. And that night, I just about bottomed out! Suddenly, I was sure it was that anemia problem. Good thing I had an appointment in a week or so. But the next day, I started taking that iron I was supposed to. Honestly, after 1 day, I felt like a new woman!  That confirmed to me, it was the iron deficiency issue I had been dealing with the past few weeks.  NOT Lazy Syndrome, as I feared.

I realized over the next few days though, that the incident really shook my kids up.  I was limping around, everywhere we went. Still tired, but less so.  But I was just bruised and battered all over, from the stairs fall.  And there was a familiarity to my state, that made me remember some other past situations I apparently had chosen to forget.   Like the bad (bad) shower fall I had, just a few years ago, when I closed my eyes for a second, and lost all balance. I was extremely tired in those weeks too.  It was around that time that I had gone to a pressured-into physical exam, needed or we would lose our doctor in that practice, or something. This visit, I was not seeing my own doctor, but his own physician assistant.  I hadn’t met her before, but when she came in, she said almost immediately, with quite a puzzled tone, “You know, I don’t really know you. But are you tired?  Because you look really, really tired to me.”  I responded that I was no more tired than I was usual for me. I was kind of used to ‘pushing through’.  She said that wasn’t normal. Even for moms, and ordered a full blood panel of work.   There was some iron/B12 issues, and that was why I was so tired. (Uhh…..anemic. Yes. Guess that was the word they used that time too.) As I recall, I even had to go for regular B12 shots for awhile, until we found the little pills worked well enough. When I took them.

The fall down the stairs not only scared me, it scared my kids.  The doctor appointment and subsequent blood work I had done, showed I was ‘Severely Anemic’.  That, after lots of daily iron for a week. So I knew….it was SO much worse, a week ago when I collapsed on the stairs.  I knew, and it haunted me…..I could have hit my head, and died.  And really, I guess I don’t eat well.  Not enough, and not at the right times. It’s not balanced.  Not to mention I probably should be exercising, you know, on purpose.  And there was a few other meds I’ve been supposed to be taking. But you know, I’ve never liked the idea, of having to taking medication. So it was another thing I was probably not doing well. The revelations were really just snowballing.  Oh yes, I should know I should be taking better care of myself.  But really, it was the fall down the stairs, that really woke me up.  Made me realize, I should be doing all I can, to be here, well and healthy, for my children. I really want to be. I do not want to put them through, all I went through, as a result of my own mother’s neglect of her health.  I don’t want them to suffer the grief of losing me, that I did with her.  Especially given that they are much younger.  They need me.  ME.

I Get It Now.

I feel guilty, for having ignored the signs all along the way. I mean, what a fool. I can hardly blame God, if it was Him, giving me a swift kick of His sandal in the backside, for a little wake-up-tumble.  If it was Him, and I think it was, I thank Him, really.   I am eating more frequently now, and really making sure it’s balanced food groups. I am exercising, on purpose, regularly, and getting my heart rate up, at least a few times a week.  I have had several doctors appointments now, and yes…..it’s as much as a hassle as I knew it would be, and it is a great big pain, fitting such extra appointments on my already busy-enough calendar.  I am working on taking all of the medications (supplements of sorts) I was supposed to be taking.  There is one that is taking a bigger commitment to stay on, that I am also coming to terms with, because I know I need it.  (There’s a good few, for more than I wanted to get into this time. Mostly just the way I am made up. Like the low iron, no matter how much iron rich food I eat. And a B12 deficiency to boot. I simply need to supplement these things, forever. Then there are genetic numbers, as well. But this is long enough, don’t you think? I can say I have always been dismissive of having to take medication. Until I realized I had to, for various things.) I have a weekly pill box now, with everything I need to take daily. And I really do. Yes, it’s kind of a bother. But my children, my family, they are worth it.  For gosh sakes, who would keep everyone else healthy around here, if I was gone?  While I have never had really bad health habits, I could be a better example, and have really good ones. I should be a SHINING EXAMPLE. After all, I know from experience, that a mother’s lifestyle, can effect her children’s lives and hearts, in so many ways. I’m seriously working on it all now. BALANCE. I need to be healthy and HERE, to take care of everyone else too. AND YOU DO TOO!!

I could really ride the excuse or 2, that my brain so quickly serves up, to start slipping back into my old ways. But when I do, I remind myself of the same kind of words I used at my mother, that I still think was such a valid argument, and one than cannot be denied:

“Or do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit who is in you, whom you have from God, and that you are not your own? For you have been bought with a price: therefore glorify God in your body.”   (Corinthians 6: 19-20)

 Thank you so much, for reading. It’s difficult enough for me to let down my walls, with the people in my life.
Never mind spill my heart, to the whole world.  But it is my hope you might take any little bit of encouragement, from my story.
Blessings to you. – Laura

* * * * * *

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Filed Under: Faith, Into the Light; The Series, Life In General, Parenting, The Big Picture Tagged With: anemia, health, mother's health, motherhood, Parenting, self-health, women's health

“I Am Third” | A Wood Pallet Sign

December 5, 2012 By Laura 9 Comments

It’s always a great day, when I finally get something OUT of my head, and am able to find the time to bring it to life, and have it real and in front of me.  It makes me happy because, there’s a whole lot in my head, that never (ever) gets out!  I wish I could do all of the projects that I actually think of, but I have other joyful obligations too, than just being all artsy 24/7.  So only a small percentage of my notions ever actually come to be.
I’m really glad this one did though, because it’s a meaningful one in our home.

The vision was a wood pallet sign.  And we usually have no shortage of those, as this is what our driveway often looks like . . . . . .

. . . . and there’s more where those came from.  Michael is able to get them from work by the load anytime.  Many of them he chops up and we burn in our wood stove. Free wood is always good!  But they are great for many other things too.  And a pallet was perfect for my idea for the sign I wanted to make.

The theme of the sign is a phrase we are fond of in our family, and try to live by, and it is this:

 
I am third.

You may well guess all on your own.
Like all families with many kids, one of my tasks as a parent is to teach my children to always put God first, be compassionate of others, and make great efforts to be selfless whenever possible.  Having triplets, you can imagine we’ve had many teachable moments and conversations about this kind of thing from toddler-hood on up, while encouraging them to share, and not grow with any kind of mindset that our own wants and needs should always or ever be first. That’s just not how we roll, as Christians.  Of course, this philosophy of serving, goes far beyond the constraints of our family, and the walls of our home. It applies to our world and every day we live in it, and with all whom we interact with across the board, from absolute strangers, to acquaintances, to loved ones a part of our personal lives, and everyone in between whom we happen upon daily .  I want that to stick with my kids, as they grow older in their faith, and take on this world, with all of their plans and dreams before them. It can only help, for each one of us to be reminded often.


And so with another an extra piece of plywood, some old extra nails we had on hand, and some paint and a brush, the pallet sign I saw in my head for so long, was created:


Because of the list form of my idea, I saw the pallet as the perfect material for the sign.
It was cut down to a size of about 20″ x 27″.


I wanted it kept as simple as possible. Rustic, raw, and straightforward. Sure, it may not always be easy to live the message.
But God always forgives us, and we always have the opportunity to keep on trying.
It is a simple concept to remember, in terms of the priorities we want to strive to serve in our life:
God
Others
Self

For some reason, I always saw it in this darker red.  When it came time to paint, I stopped and considered other colors.
But I really needed to create it just as I had envisioned it for so long. Or else I could go crazy.

Michael hung it up the very same day. Right there where we all see it, again and again, every day.  He loves it as much as I do.
I suppose others may come into our home, start to read it, and be a little perplexed.  But one of the most cherished things about having a home to me, is making it a place that is meaningful to our family. It’s the little things, that are personal and of the heart, that make it feel like home.  And this sign….. and all it says….it means something to us.  It’s an awareness that we want to be reminded of, again and again. Not just the kids. But all of us. I know I can use such a gentle reminder, as often as anyone else.

There is lots more space on this particular wall in our open living space, up there with the clock. The wall is much bigger than it even appears in this photo, with the cathedral ceiling.  We realize the sign is so flush left, and leaves the wall as a whole quite unbalanced. But we’re ok with that for now.  Soon enough, the wall all around the clock will be filled with other things that mean something to us. Maybe more signs.  Who knows. But we have no desire to rush these things, just to fill up and balance the wall. It’s what is hanging there, that matters to us.
All of the space? Well, that’s what I call inspiration. Like a blank sheet of lined paper, or a canvas.  The possibilities are endless, and exciting.

The kids have really embraced the lesson, most days. But when they are together and it’s needed, because one, or some, or all are reverting back to looking out for themselves over little things,  I like to remind them:
“If everyone put everyone else second, you’ll always actually be second, too! Not third. Right? So just be a good example.”  ; )
I’m a tricky Mama. ; )


I wonder what I’ll be able to get out of my head, next.

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Filed Under: Crafts & Creations, DIY (Do-It-Yourself) Project, Faith, Faith/ Catholic, Home Decor, Into the Light; The Series, Life In General, Parenting, Re-Purposing, The Big Picture, The Homestead Tagged With: Christianity, Faith, God-first, home decor, pallet-ideas, pallet-projects, Parenting, rustic-signs, signs, wall-signs, wood-pallet-signs

A Glimpse Into This Mother’s (Typical) Day.

May 9, 2012 By Laura 6 Comments

It’s morning, and the coffee maker gurgles it’s last drips of piping hot fresh coffee into the pot. My boys race to the kitchen to be the one who gets to prepare my first cup of the day. It’s delivered to my hands, wherever I am, followed up with the first smile, kiss and hug of the day.  As my girls sleepily descend down the stairs, they are collided by one brother or other, greeted with a hug of their own, the moment their foot hits the bottom of the staircase.  I watch, as I sip my coffee, still waking up, happy to see they are happy to see each other, every morning.  They pour cereal and milk in the kitchen, and chat too much all through breakfast, reliving many amusements that still make them all laugh again, for the millionth time.


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     Everyone is washed and ready for the day. Our school day begins with prayer and Scripture discussion. In closing, the littles say the Lord’s Prayer, with hands held to form a circle of themselves, and following the great Amen, their 6 hands all collide in the middle and then reach up to the Heavens, in some triplet ritual of praise to God, that only they can fully understand.

    We open our books and begin verbal reviews, and all of the lessons to be done. To teach them, fills my heart with such joy. Being able to watch them all understand and put their new knowledge to use, feels like a new gift to me, every day. They teach me so much in a day, too. Soon, the room is filled with nothing but the beautiful sound of many pencils at work, and thinking.   My youngest daughter leans my direction repeatedly, peeking into my coffee cup, waiting to see the bottom, so she can get me a refill.  The same sweet girl, who loves to help, and leaves me floral arrangements  in shot glasses, all over the house.  I smile inside, and remember I should probably eat breakfast, too.



Hours later, and it’s time for a late lunch.  Another highlight of their day.  Good gosh, do they love to eat. I overhear a discussion of their hopes and wonders, that there will still be food, and the need to eat, in Heaven. I giggle, and offer the notion that feasting is a form of great celebration, so I imagine there is much of that in Heaven.  They all express various forms of great relief, and it amuses me again.  I secretly hope there is wine at these feast celebrations, too.

    Appointments, activities, workshops, practices or games… the day often holds something to get done or somewhere to be.  If we separate, I’m always given proper good-byes;  a kiss on the cheek with a beaming smile of excitement, an ‘I love you’ and a verbal promises to ‘see you later.’ Even my oldest never hesitates, despite all of the eyes and ears of her high school friends around. I am thankful that hasn’t changed, and I pray it never will.

   The day wears on, and I get little done of my own, that I had intended. But the kids spend their energy well. Races are run, seeds are planted, and bugs are observed in containers, all too often forgotten, only to bake in the sun. Trees are climbed high enough to make my heart pound. I want to tell them to come down, before they fall and get injured. But I don’t. Instead, I say a silent prayer, and go take their photo, zooming in and shooting up from the ground.

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Little arms with grubby hands, randomly find me, wrapping tightly around my middle, and gifting me with surprise hugs that remind me of how good love feels, and the recurring wish that they could stay little forever.

     Artwork, crafts and love notes, written and created just for me, are everywhere; hanging by clothes pins, pinned to bulletin boards, overflowing out of folders and boxes.  The artistic gene and love of art, from both sides, passed on from generations before, lives on in them.

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05_     I attempt to work on my laptop on the couch, throwing my feet up, while little fingers pound keys, and piano music fills the house, bouncing off the walls. It’s lovely, and distracting. It’s such a treat when any one of my kiddos prop my feet on their lap and read a book, while giving me a foot rub.  They know how much I love those.  Life is good.


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    Their bellies are filled once again, and the littles wash and change for bed. It’s quiet time before sleep, and they read more books, taking turns to suddenly interrupt the silence, to share bits of what they are so amused by, from the pages of their books. It’s time to climb into their beds.  But not before another round of hugs, kisses, and I love you’s – for me, their Daddy, and for each other.

   I indulge in my nightly routine. A hot shower, pajamas, and my own winding down before sleep. My big girl and I often find ourselves hanging out on my bed. She with her books and notebooks, and I with my laptop, but neither of us getting much done.  We’re too busy, having the best kinds of talks a mother and her teenage girl can have, or laughing so hard that we can’t catch a breath, as tears stream down our cheeks.  She has such a lively and beautiful laugh. Michael appears in the doorway, wanting to know what he is missing out on. I let her stay up too late, until her chin quivers; a tell-tale sign she is way over tired. I tell her it’s really time for bed, and I see her think about protesting, but decides she is too tired to. She kisses me, and recites her 3 lines she has said to both Michael and I every night for so many years, it has become  single run-on sentence: “Love you goodnight see you in the morning. ”  I repeat it back to her, as she lumbers off and up the stairs.

   This is such a beautiful, typical day for me as a mother. My children’s behavior and choices, are not always wonderful. But then, neither are mine. In between all of the expressions of love, thoughtfulness, busy-ness, and fits of laughter that each day can hold, are also disagreements and disgruntled moments that forget respect, responsibility, or efforts to strive to be like Jesus.  Just as there are moments in every day, that I fail to the very best mother I can be, for them.  But it’s the love between a mother and her children, that outshines the rest.  Taking a moment to count our blessings, and thanking the good Lord for every one, reminds us of what a great thing we’ve got going, and we forget the rest.  We have love, and we have joy, and there are no greater gifts, than family.  

    At the end of each day, I am exhausted. But I know after a little sleep, I’ll be ready to do it all over again the next day. I ponder all that needs to be done, and all that we’ll repeat, when the sun rises at dawn the next morning, once again, and I feel the little leap of happiness in my heart. I look forward to it. But first, I must sleep.  I do for hours, until I wake somewhere in the few hours past midnight, for no reason at all. It is never so quiet, as it is when I am the only one awake. I revel in the moments (sometimes hours) of sheer silence, while I can. I take the opportunity to brainstorm, to plan, to dream, to relive memories, to ponder all of my blessings, and to pray.  Sometimes, I waste it worrying. I re-evaluate once again, if I am honoring this blessed role God gave me well enough, as the mother of these children; where and how I might do better.  I always want to.  They deserve the best I can give. And I promised God I would. Every day that I am given to try again, is a gift.


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    Mother’s Day is this weekend. It’s a wonderful and thoughtful day, honoring mothers of various means and generations, everywhere. My husband and kids always give me an extra special day, usually agreeing to antique shop hop with me, all day long.  No matter what the day holds, it doesn’t really matter…… 

Because I know:  Head to toe, and inside out, morning until night, 24/7 and 365 days a year, I AM BLESSED that these 4 beautiful children call me Mama.  One day, one lifetime, will never be enough, to celebrate the immeasurable gratitude I feel, for that.


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Filed Under: Holidays, Life In General, Parenting, The Big Picture Tagged With: Catholic-blogs, Catholic-families, day-in-the-life, homeschooling, mothering, Parenting

Playing to WIN! / $ Give-Away! $

August 29, 2011 By Laura 124 Comments

sports_text1


Yes. Here I am talking about Basketball and such already and the new season has not even begun yet! But honestly, you DO want to bear with me. Today there’s a whole new spin to the perspectives and purpose of this post. I’d love for you all to give it a read, and then join in with your thoughts & experiences, regarding your kid’s sports. In the end, you and I can both win. ; )

 

Growing up as a kid, I was never really involved in any kind of organized sports. Neither was my husband, in his childhood.  Sometimes as a kid, in my free time, I played tennis against the school wall down the street, or my brothers and I played basketball in the drive way.  It was more of the ‘Around the World’ type of basketball, rather than any real 1-on-1. The only ones who took a beating, were the Hosta plants that lined the single lane driveway! I have memories of my Dad pitching a wiffle ball to me too, because I really loved to hit, and I wasn’t half bad! He’d even go get the ball, only to pitch it to me again, over and over.  But that was the extent of my sports. I was really more of the artist type. I spent most of my time drawing, painting, and (closet) singing, right through high school.  Going to art school was my plan right from Kindergarten, and when I graduated from high school, that’s just what I did.

So no one was more surprised than I was, to find I was going to be ‘one of those sports moms’. You know the kind.  The ones who are always on the sidelines, really into the game, screaming her head off the whole time? That would be me.

I remember the day I realized it too. Things had just begun in that little school gym, where I had brought my daughter {A}, and I immediately found myself out of my seat, hootin’, hollarin’, cheering, and shouting out instructional tips. I was all hyped up with excitement and adrenaline, and apparently making a little scene, because the coaches and all of the kids, kept looking at me with an amused expression.  Maybe, because it was just the first practice of this basketball season, for my first child’s, first practice, and first sport, ever.  I was the one and only spectator there, as all of the other parents had dropped their kids off.

1_2006_

(2006)

That was six years ago, when {A} was just 8 years old.  It was the beginning of a whole new experience, for all of us, as a family. The first reward we found in sports, was that it was another activity we enjoyed together. She really loved playing, and you could always find the other 5 of the 6 of us in the bleachers, cheering her and her team on. Her little siblings were a cheer section of their own!  Her Dad commentated quietly, often explaining to me what he thought just happened. And then there was me; the loudest of us all.

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(2007)

We never doubted {A} would have a good time playing on a team.  She was always that kind of kid, who had fun no matter what she was doing.  She was a ‘people person’, who approached and befriended others easily. You know, very SOCIAL, even though she was a home schooled kid.  😉 To this day, people ask us if she is ever not smiling. But I’d always taught her, it was important to do her best, no matter what. I never followed the line of thinking with sports, that ‘as long as we have fun, that’s what matters.’ No!! We’re here to WIN!! Aren’t we? It’s great to enjoy it, but her team was counting on her to give it all she had, and so was I. She was probably an average player to start, being new not only to the game, but a year late into it, as opposed to her other girls who played the year prior. But, she was well-liked, and committed to her team.  Her biggest downfall was her heart on the court; she felt bad taking the ball away from even a player on the opposing team. ; ) We had a few chats about that, but otherwise, it was a great first and second season for her, as she learned the rules, in and outs of the game, through weekly practices and games. We all learned along with her, listening to instruction, and those ear-piercing whistle blows.

She was still working on refining all of her skills. Especially with her new physical self; she had grown 5 inches in the past year!

2_2009

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(2009)

As she got a little older, we saw things start to change in her a little bit.  She was getting on the other side of that awkward growth spurt. She was all knees and elbows, for a bit there. She had learned a lot more about the game, and so did we. Basketball had become a regular part of our lives, every cold season, as we got her to her practices, and watched more intently than ever, at her games.  She was practicing off the court more, her focus was better, her determination was stronger, and all of the skills she had acquired were starting to come together. I was enjoying seeing her thrive, and had become more maniacal than ever, at her games.  For perspective, I often leave a game with a throat that is torn up, and a new hair-do. ; )

She was still her happy-go-lucky self.  But she was more serious about every game.  We started having post-game talks on the way home, about the great plays, or ones she could have done better or differently.

4_2010_

(2010)

Then we hit a real milestone.  One might call it a ‘game changer’.  As more serious as she was about the game, she was still used to being on friendly terms with every coach she had had. One they all could joke with, and have fun.  But this new coach this one year, was alllll business. He wasn’t there to make friends, or waste his time. She didn’t like how he didn’t have a light-humored side.  She didn’t like how he demanded the girls do things a very certain and different way.  His way, as she saw it. She didn’t like that he was yelling angrily out onto the court at the girls, by name. (including his own daughter.)  She didn’t like a lot of things about this year. He drove the girls, hard. And he rubbed her sunny-disposition, the wrong way.

But I thought this coach this particular year, was a great thing, and I told her why:  Because it was a perfect lesson on LIFE. She was going to get a job someday, and not necessarily like how her boss does things. Or even her BOSS, for that matter. But she’d still need to do her job, follow instructions, be a team player, and respect the authority. Yes, when the time was right, she could re-evaluate things, and choose to seek a new job, more to her liking. But she had to complete the project she was committed to, just as she had to stay on this team and play the year out, just as she had committed to. It was going to be good for her, to work with someone she found very difficult.  It would help develop her character; teaching her the skills of tolerance, patience, obedience, and strength. She’d need to adjust. It would be a rough road for her, and I had every intention of being there for her, with some tough love. But she had to push herself through it.

She stuck the year out. Not always happily, especially in the beginning. But she learned to deal with it all quickly. She learned to relate to the coach, on his terms.  And I was right.  By year’s end, she was a new player. She had grown so much, as a person, had new found skills, and had developed in so many ways, more than she ever had, more a than any other year. Through the difficult year, both physically and mentally, she had changed a lot.  By leaps and bounds. She had gained stamina, and a more mature perspective. She found her drive.  She had found her aggression, in a big way, on the court!  She was going for that ball, no matter who on the opposing team had it, and she would fight to hold onto it to the floor.  She wasn’t one to mess with, anymore.

She had become a real athlete.

And when the last game that year had just been played, she was the only girl who went up to her coach, and said, “Thank you, for coaching me all year. I learned a lot from you.”

6_2010 As a sports mom, I had become concerned about more than just getting her here and there, or where ever she needed to be.  I had learned how to give her all she needed, as an athlete.  I wanted to be sure she always had the energy and hydration, come practice or game time. That meant making sure she always ate right, and ate the right things, at the right times. And to keep the fluids going down. I wanted to make sure I kept her strong, and healthy!  An injury was the last thing I wanted for her.

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Basketball was the sport she’d always been involved with.  But she’d learned to throw a mean football, at 5 years old.  It was something she and her Daddy did a lot in the yard. Of course the older and bigger she got, the better she became.  On the court, old basketball coaches could not even believe how tall she had gotten. There was a 2 year span where she had grown a total of 8 1/2 inches!  That was really helping her game.  But she was also growing more and more interested in football.  She loved watching the games on tv, and was intent on playing Flag Football.  One clinic with Coach Greg, and she was hooked.

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(2011)

Her last year on the town’s team, was an incredible one for her.

8_2011_2b

(2011)

She was so sad to have outgrown the league, but she went out with a bang!

She had come a long, long way, in the 6 years she had played. She worked hard with the basketball, even off the court, developing skills you don’t often see in a player that age. Never mind a girl. She had learned to dribble with her knees!  She was passionate about basketball, and it showed.  Especially to those who noticed these things.

She was encouraged by current and former coaches, to go for the public South High School team. She wanted to play for them, badly.  And so I had every intention of being sure she had that chance to play for them, even though she was home schooled. I understood she’d have to pass try-outs. But I had heard making the team, or actually playing, could be…challenging, for home schoolers.  I’d cross that bridge when I got to it, if it ever proved to be a problem.

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But that time was not here yet.  She had her heart set on making it onto the town’s spring Flag Football league, before she grew out of the age range.

Of course, she had to make the team, first. And that she did. Her former coach (Greg) knew her the second she walked into the try-outs, and her place on a team was practically automatic. ALL of the coaches were there to observe, taking notes for drafting the players they wanted.  The most unlikeliest of coaches drafted her first, based on observing the reaction of Coach Greg when she walked in, and then watching her tryout.

She played, and was the only girl in the whole league!  She wasn’t treated any differently than the boys.  And she didn’t play any differently, either. She was an unexpected force to be reckoned with.  She was passionate about Flag Football now, too. She just loved playing the game. And it showed.

11_2011_2ff

(2011)

Just as with Basketball, we were on the sidenlines, making some noise, for her and her team!  As if my big long camera lens didn’t draw enough attention to myself, screaming my head off half the time did!  I just couldn’t help myself. Michael and I had a game, to see how long I could be quiet.  The excitement and anticipation at times, was more than I could contain. We found sports to be a rush like no other.  I had felt my own competitive streak come alive that very first practice she had, at 8 years old, and it was clearly in her blood too. She helped take her Flag Football team all the way to the Superbowl, where they lost by 1-single-point!  It was a hard pill to swallow.  It was a fluke, actually!  But we were busy digging up the grace we needed, to be good sports about it. ; )

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(2011)

After all, she had to be a good example, to her biggest little triplet fans, who were so very inspired by their big sister.

She was a STAR, in their eyes, and about to try making a mark of their own, in sports.

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(2011)

High School Basketball is a few months away yet, but I had started making contact with the powers that be, real early, and she found herself at a Volleyball clinic twice a week, at the public South High School. She quickly fell in love with this sport too, and they quickly took notice of her.  It was nothing short of boot camp.  But she kept going back, and they were impressed she did, and were happy to see her. Her potential coach said to us, “The biggest sign of a true athlete, is not just skills, but being tough. And she IS. She’s got that.”

Try-outs for the public South High School Volleyball team are coming up, and she’ll be there ready to show her stuff.  She’s been training on her own. I can say it’s looking promising, and a very busy year, with 3 kids in sports anyway. Maybe 4.

14_hydrating_

(2011)

{A} has her dreams and goals, short & long term,  and she’ll always work hard to reach them. She has high standards for herself, anyway.

But even if she didn’t, she always has me to push her. ; ) 

To me, being so involved in sports, and having such passions for it, has proved to be full of benefits, skills, and gifts, and a truly effective way to pave the way, to play the game of life!  If sports doesn’t literally take {A} where she wants to go, it will certainly have given her all she needs on the inside, to get there on her own.

She’s the picture of young athletes all over the world, just like her. If you’re a parent of an athlete-in-the-making, or one who is already, this is your lucky day. I’m giving away a:

$100.00 Dick’s Sporting Goods Gift Card!!
(We’re sorry -This Giveaway has now ended.)

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One way you can have a chance to win, is to tell me:

In what ways do you see your kids playing sports, as preparing them for the game of life?

****

Rules:

No duplicate comments.

You may receive (2) total entries by selecting from the following entry
methods:

a) Leave a comment in response to my sweepstakes prompt question on this post

b) Tweet about this promotion and leave the URL to that tweet in a comment
on this post

c) Blog about this promotion and leave the URL to that post in a comment on
this post

d) For those with no Twitter or blog, read the official rules to learn about
an alternate form of entry.

And if that’s not enough, there are additional ways to win a gift card to Dick’s Sporting Good here: Promotions & Prizes section

This giveaway is open to US Residents age 18 or older.

Winners will be selected via random draw, and will be notified by e-mail.

(I will also announce the winner via our Facebook Page and our Twitter.)

The Sweepstakes Dates are:  8/29 – 9/30 (Now ended.)

You have 72 hours to get back to me, otherwise a new winner will be selected.

The Official Rules are available here: Visit the Official Rules.

GOOD LUCK TO EVERYONE!

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Filed Under: Giveaways, Life In General, Parenting, Reviews & Sponsors, The Big Picture Tagged With: Gatorade, giveaways, Parenting, youth-athletics, youth-sports

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