July 30, 2011- Lazy Day

A Lazy day.

A stay in with your family day.

A cook soup all day, day.

A fix up around the house day.

A nap in the rainstorm day.

A fall asleep to a movie day.

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Once in a while… a lazy day is the most perfect of all days.

~K

July 30, 2011- Saturday

Birthday fun.   Boys and girls giggling.   Barbeque.  

Super fun.   Smiles.   Silly kids.

Poolside.   Pinata.   Pretty views.

Friends.   Fun.   Fabulous.

Lots of good today.   So much to be grateful for.

~K

July 29, 2011 – Swimming

It’s been an overwhelming week.   Lots of unexpected added to an already bursting at the seams to do list.   I’ve been doing it solo as my husband had to leave town (Disclaimer:  he’s back now too, just in case there’s creepers out there in the internet world… he’s back in the house and in case you doubt this, know I have two tasers, police grade mace with a 90 foot range, an 80 pound dog and 2 shotguns.)  Just so you know.   Oops.  Back to Peace of Mind.  Because for a moment there, you saw a little MFP and ‘she’ rarely makes appearances here. ;)

It’s been an overwhelming week and he has been gone.   I’ve had the kids on my own, construction work in the home, a work schedule of my own, appointments to keep, no babysitters, etc.   Not to mention my son refused to urinate for the first 3-4 hours of his daddy’s absence in protest.   And my daughter slept on top of me just about the entire time he was gone due to mysterious ‘spider bites’ developing on her torso.  Even the dog, who is usually a general fool anyway upped her ante.  I found her twice today standing, all 80 pounds on top of the outdoor glass table, barking into the sky at who knows what.  

It’s. been. an. overwhelming. week.

We walked into get some dinner tonight and I looked at my kids following alongside of me.  Neither have been bathed in 3 days.   (I’m an everyday- you –must- bathe -kind of parent)  I looked at my daughter.   Her forehead has a golf ball sized bruise, rainbow in color, she’s missing a front tooth and she was chewing on the side of her hair, which looked as though it may be starting to dreadlock.   (I’m usually a let’s have coordinating hair ties to dress to shoes kind of parent)   My son was sitting on the asphalt of a parking lot whining and waiting for me to lift him.

I began to laugh.  

Look at us, guys!   What would your daddy say?    Well, I’m sure he’d just have to understand that we’re doing all we can to keep our head above water here this week, don’t you think?

My daughter, who is far older than her barely 7 years and far smarter than me, took her hair out of her mouth and smiled.

What are you talking about, mommy?   There’s no water here and we don’t have to keep our heads above it.   Heck, we’re not even swimming!

Sure, she’s a kid and she was taking my words literally and being funny.   But her point resonated far deeper within me.

We’re not even swimming.

She’s right.   Perspective.   Our life is fine.  Fabulous even.   I’ve had friends helping, a roof over my head, extra money to take them to dinner, healthy babies curled around me each night, a wonderful husband returning safe and sound and sunshine filling my days.

We’re not even swimming.

That’s the truth.  Absolutely.

~K

July 28, 2011- Precious Treasures

Last night, on the edge of my bathtub, I neatly placed  four small seashells.  One my daughter found and it’s a perfect circular cream.   I watched, several days ago, as she sat, in her new purple suit deep in the sand and took her time, a trait which doesn’t come easily to her, searching out and finding seashell treasures to bring to me, this being one of them.  The second treasure on my bathtub, my son discovered,  and though it’s not much more than beach rock,  it’s a gorgeous smoky gray in color and every time I look at it, I remember his face as he held it proudly in his hardly anymore baby hands, passing it over to me with a proud smile.   The third, scalloped shell, I took from the top of a sand castle my boy and I made together and remember the wonderful time we had, just the two of us, buried into our ankles and imagining the sand city we were creating.   And the last was an unflawed spiral I found as the four of us walked hand in hand off of the beach together, content and full of sun, sand and love.

They are my seashell treasures, sitting on the side of my bathtub.   They are not in a dish, nor organized in any particular way.  Perhaps someday I will.  Or not.  For now, they sit.   Tiny and precious treasures, serving as the memories of a beautiful day together.

~K

July 27, 2011- Looking out my window

I see all that makes me happy.   Crystals she spent her ‘very own’ money on, waiting to grow in plastic containers and being carefully monitored each day.   They sit next to  painted rocks that are lined along the window’s ledge like matchbox cars, colorful and reminding me of an early summer lunch with chinese take out ,stone painting and my babies.  Through the glass, are the rainbow birdhouses we carefully crafted over an old sheet while music played in the front yard in early spring.   Hanging next to the homes are the feeders he graciously refills for us each week without complaint so that we may watch and identify our feathered friends as they play and frolic while we eat together below.

Some may call it clutter… but to me, looking out of my window  are all of  my beautiful, peaceful favorites.

~K

July 26, 2011- Lessons Learned

Note:  I am behind on posts.   I started this post about a week ago, but wanted to take my time… process it a bit before posting as it was important to me.    Unfortunately, my husband’s grandmother, passed away last night, before I was able to publish this post.  Regardless, I still think it has a place here, and now especially, today.  
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My husband’s grandmother was placed in a nursing home just a few weeks ago.  She is 95 years old and dying.   She knows this.
What I didn’t know is what is to follow….
When we arrived, Grandma was sitting up in bed and began by quickly asking me where the children were.  It was important for her to see them.   We had not brought them, I mumbled,  apologetically, for, really, we were unsure of what condition she would be in when we got there.
Next, she told us that she was disappointed she had not been bathed before we arrived.   She explained to me that she had her outfit ready to wear, “see it at the end of the bed, honey?” when we came and we should really see her in it because “it’s just darling and I was waiting for you to come to wear it… mint green, with ruffles on the wrists and the ankles.”
It didn’t take long before we realized she was still in complete control of things and that she was going to tackle death just as she had everything else in her life… head on and her way.   And with a positivity that began to awe me.  So…
We sat and talked for some time and then I left.  -  To get the children, of course.   And to give her a minute to get changed.   Sure enough, she was right, -  the outfit was darling and most definitely a ‘must see’.
When I arrived back, children in tow, she was a little sleepy, but woke up, asked me to raise her bed and then she asked my daughter, her great granddaughter, to please sing for her.   Later, I heard she spoke with joy about the two bars of ‘Somewhere Over the Rainbow” and of how beautiful it sounded.    She let my son enjoy the mechanical remote for her bed, never flinching, but only smiling as he raised her up… and down… and up again, learning how the device worked.
Sure enough, she was dressed in her mint green and though a little distraught I couldn’t see the ankle ruffles under the blanket, assured me they were there.   I brought magazines and flowers and we talked for just a few more moments.   She kissed both children tenderly and before we left I saw her holding them close and memorizing their faces, her strong but aged hands wrapped tightly around their baby cheeks.  
Last, I lifted her up gently behind her back and added an extra pillow beneath her head, lowered her bed back down and kissed her softly.   She apologized for ‘getting drowsy’ on us and explained it was a medication that was affecting her ability to be as alert as she’d like.  
I walked out, hand in hand with my children and with a different feeling in my heart.  Grandma and I both knew it was the last visit for us all, yet the lessons weren’t over.   This is a woman who has outlived two husbands…. she understands strength.   She was extremely lucid and certainly knew the reality of the day, yet had one more thing to not tell, but to show me-   No matter what you are facing, find the positive.   In this case it was a mint green ruffle.   Also, - savor each moment, whether it be the sounds of a child’s voice or a familiar face.   Finally, - stay strong, know when to let go and when it is that time, be peaceful in your process.

Thank you for the lessons, Grandma.   May you rest in peace.

~K

July 25, 2011- Gratitude

I went to a yoga class tonight where the focus was on gratitude.   What I love so much about yoga is, first, I leave feeling 100 times better than I entered… every time.   And then, I love that if you open yourself up to it (and thus anything), there is something to be learned always.  

Below is the quote our instructor referred to several times during class.   I have been thinking of it since and knew this was where I would share it as soon as I heard her share it.

Feeling gratitude and not expressing it is like wrapping a present and not giving it.

~William Arthur Ward

Enjoy ~

~K