Have A Memorial Day

Happy Memorial Day.
Have some cake and celebrate.

Home Alone

The adults were away last night and the children were left at home. When we returned, we discovered this:The maze extends to other rooms and up the stairs. I had no idea we even owned this much string. Apparently they had races to see who could maneuver through it the fastest.

I turned off the lights and went to bed with the string still in place. At one point during the night I said a silent prayer that we wouldn't have a fire and need to exit the house quickly.

Time To Remember

There is so much that I forget to do. She is the last one. The final child. The others are older and I find myself doing all the 'older' things with her tagging along. I forget to remember. To do all those things I did with the others when they were this age.

Most of the time, she is the one who prompts me. "Will you draw chalk with me outside?" I stare at her and realize that this was a normal activity with the other two. It was just something we always did, no prompting needed. But now I need reminding to sit down on the ground and draw with chalk.


We trace her body with pink. She laughs and talks incessantly while we draw and color. Time slows when I do 8 year old things with her. Simple joy surrounds the edges of it. And in that time, I'm grateful to remember. To sit and look and listen and draw.

Anyone?

Is there anyone else who is sick, and I mean SICK, of making school lunches?
Anyone?

How about this...
Is there anyone else who is sick of asking their kids 403 times to get up, and you started yelling at #254? Oh, and then the offspring gives you a disgusted look and says, "Why are you always yelling at me!?"

Any other mother out there who is so sick of it you could nibble a hole in your arm?

No?

I must be a loser.
Oh, wait, I know I am because one of my kids told me so last week.

Her View

I wish I could see Life the way she does. She has the ability to find joy in the very ordinary. Here she sits at the ENT. Within moments she discovered that this chair moves up and down and that little light attachment makes a magnificent squeak when you shake it.

I thought about asking her to: (1) sit like a girl, (2) act her age and (3) try to pretend you're normal. But, why? Instead, I just let her be herself. The girl who laid on the doctors roller chair and bolted around like Superman. The one who giggled when the doctor looked up her nose. That's the real her.

The other day she asked if she could pick me up. When I told her "no", she did it anyway. She was giddy with delight. And just this morning, apple juice appeared in the fridge. She thought it was manna from heaven. Oh, to find life so entertaining.

Today, I give us all permission to just be ourselves. No rational thinking is allowed. No consideration of what is 'appropriate' is needed. Just Be. Don't look around to see who may be watching. Be. Your. True. Self.

And while you're at it, find a chair to spin around on.

There Is No End To My Genius

If you take a pumpkin chocolate chip cookie recipe and simply drop the dough into muffin wrappers, do you know what you get? A healthy breakfast food. It's not proper to eat cookies for breakfast (whatever), but muffins are definitely acceptable.

Maybe tomorrow I'll try oatmeal chocolate chip muffins. Oh, I feel a trend coming. Snickerdoodle muffins? Brownie muffins? Seriously, I'm so smart, it's scary.

In case you want to add some extra juice to your genius, visit this site here and remember a few words. A writer friend of mine showed me this site. He's already beyond genius. I'll bet he already knew you could turn cookies into breakfast muffins.

The Recital

Recitals are interesting. At least for me, they are. I spend a majority of my time praying that my kids won't do anything embarrassing. This go round, Child #1 dared Child #2 to burp the introduction to her song. You would think that I was shocked by that, but alas, I was not. Again, recitals are interesting.

As I watched each of my girls stand and play, I couldn't help but reflect on all it takes to get a child to the point of performance. We parents chauffeur to lessons, we endure the constant battle to practice and we never tire of hearing, "I hate the violin, why didn't you let me take piano!" It's never ending.

But then, they stand and play. And in that moment, all the tiresome battles drift away. Pride and love and gratitude take its place. This is why recitals are interesting. They remind us of why we do what we do. They offer us a glimpse into who our children are becoming and more importantly, they allow each child to stand as an individual and shine.

Maybe we could try to see each day as more of a recital than a rehearsal. There is great value in focusing on the end result instead of emphasizing the battles and the whining. Recitals turn the ordinary into extraordinary. I have to think that it should always be that way.

All too often we need to be reminded why we do what we do. Some days we need it more than others. But if we could somehow lock our eyes onto that final performance, maybe it would help us to remember all on our own. It just might make it easier to endure the day-to-day ordinary battles. Life offers the extraordinary. We just have to have the courage to stand up and take it.

Make each day your recital. And along the way, take the chance to shine.