Selfishness

I prefer to think of myself as a pretty giving person, but sometimes I wonder where my motivation comes from. I admit to getting a 'feel good' result from helping people, one of my favorite jobs ever was working behind the customer service counter at the mall, because all I did was help people, in a brief 30 second increment at a time. I have to wonder if the 'feel good' part of giving is the only reason I give.
After 11 years of marriage, does the giving fall by the wayside? Am I too wrapped up in the kids and in my own 'stuff', to notice when my husband needs a little more attention?
I still remember a time when I was about 12 or 13 years old, my Dad walked in the front door after work and I was headed right for him. My Mom stopped me and told me he wasn't in a very good mood, that he had had a bad day. I asked her how she knew. She said she could tell by looking at him. I thought she must be some kind of genius!
As I grew up I realized she's not some freak of nature, it's easy to see emotions in someone if you're looking at them and listening to them. Why then, do I so rarely know when my husband isn't happy? Is he just better than most at hiding his emotions? I think he is exceptional at this. But..am I also too busy or self-absorbed to notice?
How do I practice awareness and listening skills? It is a promise I make to myself on a regular basis, to listen more and talk less, to be a different kind of person so as to increase intimacy in all my relationships. Maybe I need to learn to like who I am rather than trying to become someone else....
I think I have much learning to do. So, my blessing is a patient husband and the ability to continue to learn and grow every day :)

Gymnastics, yipee!

It was our thinking that Grace might enjoy an activity which channeled all that energy that keeps her hopping, skipping, singing and jumping all day long. We tried ballet, which was fun, but not busy enough. We tried skating, which was ok as long as a parent was there...swimming has been a success so far, but she needs more....
So, we started gymnastics this week. From first glance, it would appear we have found a new home for Grace.
2 minutes in and she was in the lead for every new activity. I think I may have gotten one quick wave as they ran by, otherwise, she was in her element! Sommersaults and back bridges, jumping in the foam pit and balancing on the beam, my fearless Grace was all over it. Watching the competitive boys, aged about 15, she decided she too would swing from the parallel bars one day soon.
What a great experience for her! Can't wait for next week to see if it keeps her interest, we've already signed up for the next session!
Go, Gracie Go!

First tooth

He did it! Finally, after a month of wiggling, inspecting in the mirror, pushing with the tongue and poking at every opportunity; the first tooth is out. It fell out onto the supper table after a final 11 hour day of dangling by a thread. It is a remarkable occasion for Jacob, and for us as parents. Every day I get a new reminder of how quickly he is growing up.
We advised the tooth fairy of our occasion, (this done by shouting out the words "My Tooth Fell Out!"), and waited to see what would happen.
This morning, to joyful shouts, we found out that the tooth fairy who visited leaves $5.00 for the first tooth, and that her wings were blue!
The trick I borrowed from a friend was a huge hit. Instead of hiding the tooth under his pillow, we put it in a glass of water, and when the fairy came to get the tooth, her wings touched the water and turned it the colour of her wings! What an exciting experience.
Jacob is already wondering what colour the next fairy's wings will be, (is there more than one? I guess so!) If Santa can have helpers, (in the mall), then it would stand to reason....
Off Jacob went this morning to show off his new grin, and back to school tomorrow to show 'madame'.
After a month of wiggly tooth anxiety, and my concern about missing a big life event between school, daycare and home time, I actually got to share the WHOLE DAY of the official 'falling out' experience. Laughing, teasing and giggling all the way through. I am blessed.

Miss Gracie, The Wonderful

I have this adorable, fireball of a 4 year old, whose tenacity and vigour has only grown over the few short years of her life. She challenges my husband and I to face our limits, and figure out how to push them back. She teaches me every day about being loving and caring and totally devoted. She clings to me like a baby monkey; arms and legs wrapped around me with no room for air between us. Her hugs are so tight they can be almost painful.
As I write this I get a feeling of love that surges through me, there is no description my common-place brain can come up with to describe the totality of the adoration I have for her.
Grace, full of adventure, life and chaos.
I worry for her. How do I teach her to reign herself in, not to be so forward, so outspoken so brash and bossy. Should I teach her that?
My biggest frustration as an adult is my inability to confront an uncomfortable situation, so much so that I often wonder if I even know what my values are because I'm so busy conforming to everyone else's. I don't want her to be like that, I want her to have an opinion, speak her mind. Yet...I also want her to care and love and be kind and generous of spirit, which she already is in so many ways. Where do you find a balance?
I think my little miss Grace will teach me many things in my lifetime. Perhaps abandoning conformity will be the hardest lesson.
I can't wait for her to start school. She loves to learn and is so smart and quick. I pray she has a teacher who is tolerant and patient with a little girl who has a lot of difficulty sitting still...

Loyalty...

Sometimes life throws you curve balls, you know? Like you're not really sure how to react, and who to support, and where your loyalty should lie? I'm having one of those curve ball experiences. It's been going on for a week or two now, and I still haven't figured out a way to sit comfortably on either side of the issue, and I can't stay on the fence, sooner or later, the gate must swing one way or the other. Probably sooner rather than later, and I'm going to have to justify my decision. I can, and I'm pretty sure it's the right decision, but I don't do well with hurting people's feelings, and I have some misgivings about how involved I should really be, cause this is not my fight...
On the one hand, a friend of mine was mistreated, and from what I know, undeservingly so. On the other hand, the person who mistreated her is also a friend, and not someone who would take this situation lightly. While everyone deserves the benefit of the doubt, I don't feel I can continue to support her without that being a statement on my feelings about the matter.
Ewww. I hate these situations. I guess the reality is, I am choosing to side with my apparently mistreated friend, but am sad to damage, perhaps irrevocably, my relationship with the other.
I also wonder if I should speak with my friend, hear her side and tell her how dissappointed I am in her decision. Is it any of my business? Am I just meddling, or am I being honest with a friend? Will it help anything? Will it change the results of my decision? Maybe I'm just trying to ensure I still get to be friends with her, because I have so enjoyed learning from her and sharing with her and I would hate to lose the bond we have....
Again, Ewwww.
So, where's the blessing in this? I'll keep you posted.

September 28/09 A follow up: The universe, in its divine wisdom, decided for me. I sat down with my friend, knots in stomach notwithstanding, to try and get through this scene and move forward. She shared her side of the story, and while I still may not agree with her decision, I can better understand why she made the decision she did.
Mostly, I am just blessed to have someone in my life who is so willing to communicate, listen and share. It leaves me wondering why I automatically assume our friendship is unable to hurdle an incident such as this one. Why am I so willing to believe that someone would rather end a friendship than value it as I do? What causes me to think little enough of myself to believe I'm not worth it?
I think the truth of the matter is that I don't allow people the benefit of the doubt. I assume their feelings for me are shallow, and also assume they won't want to make an effort. Am I projecting this on them because I am like that? I hope not! I want my way of thinking to be more balanced and fair, and perhaps a little less self-involved! Geez, did I really think I was a pivotal part of all this? I make rash decisions. I've always disliked that about myself.

I think my blessing here is a wonderful, understanding friend and a learning opportunity found.

Appreciation

I just spent the weekend with a friend who is struggling with custody issues and a difficult situation with her ex-husband's new wife.
Over and over, as I listened to her talk, I couldn't help but think of my own situation, and how often I dismiss the ease with which my life moves forward, because my husband is there to support, take over, tolerate and share the responsibilities of raising our children while still maintaining some level of sanity in our lives.
I am blessed. While I like to think I'm easy to get along with, I imagine I'm a bit of a bear to live with sometimes. My way is always right, you know....
His level of tolerance for my feminine emotional roller coaster is nothing short of miraculous, I'm surprised he hasn't torn my head off from time to time.
I came home determined to tell him how much I appreciate him and share my new insights, and instead, dumped two tired kids and a grumpy wife on our doorstep. He took it all in stride.
Tonight, I will make sure to share with him how I feel. You know, once the appointments done, after the kids are in bed, after my workout, after everything else that gets in the way....maybe I better send him an email right now instead:)

For today, I count my husband, and his patience, as my blessing. Thanks honey, I Love you!

The first day of Kindergarten

Monday, September 14th, a date we have all been counting down to for months, finally arrived.
Jacob chose his breakfast, (honey nut cheerios), and got his backpack ready, with snack and puppy inside. (Snack for eating, puppy for survival). We got out the new 'back-to-school' clothing, courtesy of Grandma, and put on our new, red, robot shirt. (red is the FAVORITE colour right now...).
We made a hasty exit and scurried off to daycare, to drop off Grace and to experience the first bus ride to school. (editor's note, I was absolutely forbidden to take pictures of this monumental day, so have only some blurry shots of an unsuspecting Jacob. No traditional pose for our scrapbook this year...maybe in grade 1?)
Because we were late in arriving at daycare, we walked in the door, put away the lunch boxes and were told it was time to line up for the bus, no time to play today. Jacob immediately burst into tears. I lined up with him and a dozen other kids to await the imminent arrival of the bus, and spent the whole time trying to convince him that he would live through this experience.
When the bus pulled up, the kids all headed out the door and started filing on. Jacob and I moved off to the side so we could manage this event together, once everyone else was on the bus. I even asked the bus driver if I could ride the bus with him, to ease his anguish, but apparently I would be a liability, so, No. (Probably for the best in the long run, right?)
I walked Jacob onto the bus, sat him in a seat with his best friend, Ryan, and bolted off the bus before he could follow me. Back turned, I sniffled back the tears that were threatening, and turned to wave goodbye.
I hopped in my car and beatled around the corner to try and meet the bus at the school. I'm pretty sure I swore out loud at some other drivers who were in my way, I was so anxious to be there, as promised.
I arrived at the school just in time to see the kids start to exit the bus, and here came Jacob, no tears apparent, Yay!.
We headed over to the school doors to line up before the bell rang. Jacob was looking pretty scared at this point, and I just kept talking about how much fun this would be and reminding him of the order of things when we walked in the door.
We made it into the class, after putting away our shoes, and found his locker. He hung up his bag, put on his indoor shoes and, heels dragging, headed for the carpet. We picked out a book, and sat on the rug. "I need to sit on letter J, Mommy."
All the parents were directed to leave the kids and sit at the back of the room to observe the start of the day.
I giggled at the looks on those faces when all the directions started coming at them in French! Total confusion. But the teacher is wonderful at pointing to pictures, adding a few English words as needed, and throwing in her own sign language to make her point understood.
And my brave little Jacob, followed. He sat at the back of the pack, to keep his eye on everyone, but he participated! He chimed in with counting out loud and learning the colour of the day, "Rouge!"
I was so proud.
We had a bit of a hiccup when the teacher announced it was time for parents to leave, he came over and grabbed my leg, forbidding me to go. Madame said I could stay, and I did, for another 15 minutes. Then, when he was busy painting 'la pomme rouge', I snuck out the door.
The rest of the day for me was spent waiting to hear how he survived the rigors of school life without me.
I rushed to daycare to retrieve him and Grace, and he was still alive! Miracle of all miracles!
He wasn't mad that I left without saying goodbye, he wasn't damaged by his experience and was actually quite pleased with himself.
You see the emotional issues here are mostly mine, right? I've made that clear, right?
All in all, we made it. We've survived the new beginning, just as I suspected we would, and with less tears than I expected.
Way to go, little man. Today, as with many other days, you are my blessing.

And so it begins...

We made it. The first teacher meeting, a brief 15 minutes, was a fascinating experience.
Our arrival inside the school doors prompted Jacob to whisper "I don't wanna meet the teacher", as he clung to my leg. After Mommy's reassurances he reluctantly headed down the hallway, hand clasping mine tightly, to his new classroom. Jacob found the spot for his 'outside'shoes, and allowed us to lead him into the class.
We located his locker and put his brand new shoes, (just purchased an hour ago because we accidentally bought shoes that lace up and that is not acceptable), on the top shelf.
The teacher invited Jacob to write his name on a piece of paper, or to put his handprint on the class 'flower'. This was when Jacob decided he was invisible. All he had to do was close his eyes and he was golden. Lurking behind Daddy's legs helped too.
No amount of coaxing and cajoling was going to convince him that participating was a good idea.
After 15 minutes, Jacob established contact with the teacher by letting her look at one of his 'Bakugan' cards. To be specific, he held the cards at his waist and when she asked if she could see one, he tilted his wrist about 3 inches to the left, card clutched inside. She, being the hero that she is, took this as a fabulous opportunity to exclaim about the ugly creature on the card. Yay, Madame Dufort! Ice officially cracked. A little.
Jacob beatled it back to daycare and the sweet relief of familiar surroundings. Monday's first full morning of school looms, with a tiny ray of hope springing from that ominous cloud.
A highlight of the morning was when I asked Jacob if that was a scary experience and he looked at me, all full of 'I'm not in that place anymore' bravado, and said casually, "No."
Oh my little man, you approach the world with so much caution, where did you get such a sensitive little soul?
So, for the first 'meet and greet' day of school, I will count Madame Dufort as my blessing, and be thankful for a teacher who understands the hestitancy of a little boy.

Approach with caution

Tomorrow, we go to meet Jacob's Kindergarten teacher, and his first official day of Kindergarten quickly follows on Monday. The hesitation I feel for this day is hard to express. I feel such pride in my 'big boy', branching out into the world to meet new people and expand his horizons. On the other hand, I am terrified for him. Afraid for the scary experiences he will have without me around, the kids who may tease, the owies that I won't be there to kiss. The biggest fear, I guess, is wondering who will be looking out for his best interests like I would.
I know he's been in daycare for years, and has had to go it on his own sometimes, but on such a smaller scale! His little group of 6 kids has disbanded as they head into their own school adventures, and now, he will be one of 23. How does he not get lost in the shuffle? Who makes sure he's not scared, or sad, or hungry?
Have I taught him enough confidence? Have I prepared him to find his own way? Will he know how to make the right choices?
Why am I already wiping tears? Why does it feel like he's already packing to move out of the house?
Alright then, go, my little, brave man. You make Mommy so proud. I trust that one day soon, this will be a day we'll look back on as another happy moment in your life, to be cherished and remembered, and that it will have it's own place, with much less emotional upheaval than I currently feel, in your life story.
For today, I count my blessing as the little baby boy who stole my heart, and continues to capture my every breath.

Birthday Bliss

This year, for my birthday, I will celebrate the little things, rather than looking for a pie-in-the-sky celebration that I don't need.
At 1:30 in the morning on my birthday, Grace, my 4-year old, woke up coughing, as she had for the last couple of nights. When I went in to give her some cough remedy, she sat up and said "It's your birthday tomorrow, Mommy! Jacob says we always go out for supper for birthdays, so we get to take you out for supper tomorrow!"
I am touched that she thinks of me when waking up in the middle of the night.

In the morning, the kids are eager for me to open the birthday card they signed for me, which opens, and unfolds, and unfolds again to reveal a BIG heart, with the words I LOVE YOU in it. I get hugs and kisses to start my day. How wonderful!
My husband gives me a card that says he would marry me all over again. After 11 years of ups and downs, I am more touched by this than I admit. Some days I wouldn't want to be married to me!
My brother and sister-in-law call and sing Happy Birthday over the phone while I sit at my desk working~ how silly and fun! It's nice to be thought of.

After a day at work, where a friend meets me and takes me out for lunch, I get to go out on a date with my hubby for supper, and I get to eat my favorite Santa Fe Chicken salad at the restaurant.
My mother watches the kids for us, my sister calls to celebrate with me and I get to go to bed and read a good book at the end of a wonderful day.
What more can I ask for? A wonderful birthday indeed.
Today, I celebrate my wonderful family, and the love that surrounds me. I choose to be more aware of that love.