The "Box"

I recently came across a passage via social media entitle, "The Marriage Box." This box is figurative. It stands for all the things a couple puts into a marriage. You can only take out what you put in and if you put in nothing the box will be empty. Thats the short version anyway.

After reading this passage, I thought about how true it was and how this concept could apply to other kinds of relationships too. Parenthood, friendships, familial relationships. A relationship does not automatically come with a set of prerequisite feelings, behaviors, or ideals. Relationships are built on what either party brings to them.

The Leprechauns Came!

"The Leprechauns came, mom!"

This weekend has been wonderfully relaxing and much needed. The boys and I snuggled up to watch Santa Pups last night. We all squeezed into the big recliner with the popcorn bowl and there we stayed for the duration of the movie. An hour and a half of pure joy!

This morning, as I set breakfast on the table, my 3 year old, noticing the green sprinkle waffles and green milk, proclaimed, "The Leprechauns came, mom!" And indeed they did. Those silly Leprechauns...

A Birthday Party, A New Rug, and the Flip Side of Anger

The invitations were sent for a little man bash, a moustache bash if you will. I thought I had stumbled onto a "new", creative, party theme, but apparently moustaches are all the range. Who would've thought!?! Anyway...the invitations were sent, the moustache balloons filled with 30 dollar helium were hung, the little man birthday banner, hand tied with handsome baby ribbon, was stretched across the dining room door way, the boys were dressed in their moustache and tie shirts, the cups, plates, napkins, and straws were all adorned with cute little die cut moustaches, and last, but not least the cupcakes were skewered with little black moustaches. I thought I did pretty well even with a pop-culture theme...and then my husband's grandmother said, "What's on the cupcakes? Sunglasses?" She's an old German farm wife, what can I say (and I mean that very affectionately). The party was a hit and the kids made it almost to the end without a meltdown. The hubby and I decided that it should be mandatory that birthday parties be accompanied by a babysitter and/or a good bottle of wine.

***

Friday night the "USP" (UPS) man made a supper time visit, delivering a large, flat, rectangular package to our door. The package contained our new "wellness mat" a thick, foam, rug for the kitchen which is supposed to be better for your back, legs, etc... etc... The rug is dark brown with a swirly pattern embossed on it and edges contoured to meet the floor; perfect for a little tractor loving man to farm on. Also apparently the perfect place to practice crawling back and forth. I have spent the last two and a half days pulling that rug into position in front of the sink only to find it in the kids bedroom, the bathroom, or under the dining room table.

***

And finally, the flip side of anger. I have a bit of a temper. Lets blame that on the "wee bit o' me" that is Irish (sorry, I had to). I have outgrown it some, but I occasionally lose my cool. Nothing out of control or worthy of a call to the police (that is supposed to be funny), but think more banging pans and throwing shoes. I have recently decided that my temper is not necessarily a bad thing. Being able to express emotion (within reason) is an expression of passion. Think, "if I didn't care so much, this wouldn't make me this upset." My husband may disagree, but he does understand my logic!  Could I use better avenues for dealing with my frustrations...absolutely! But, for me, I need to know that it is OK to feel anger. It is even OK to be angry. It is what I allow myself to do or become as a result of my anger that really matters. I have been reading a great deal about forgiveness. I need to work on forgiving myself. I need to "let myself of the hook" every now and then and I need to remember that the flip side of anger is great love and passion. So if I am capable of anger, I can flip it and let love and passion rule instead.

Baby Turns 1!

My baby turned one yesterday. It was very bittersweet for me. I know it is the "circle of life," but dang it, I wanted to savor those baby moments a little longer. I cried. I cried because he is technically no longer a baby. I cried because he is weaning. I cried because what if this is my last baby (God willing there are more), but I still cried. And then I scolded myself for crying because it has been a beautiful year. A wonderful year. A year full of growth and love and family. 

Although I still felt a little emotional, I tried to make the night fun (the "party" isn't until the weekend).  I bought a little whip cream cake, Neapolitan ice cream, and a cupcake birthday balloon.  The moment my little boy saw that balloon in the car, his eyes lit up; he was mesmerized by its ability to float, shine, and make soft (or not so soft) thrumming noises as he pulled on the string.  Unfortunately for me, my three year old was quite enamoured by the balloon as well...silly me for not thinking that through.  Lesson learned: when in doubt, buy two balloons!  All the same, I drank in those precious moments of playing with (and bickering over) the cupcake balloon. 

We wound down the day by reading through a new stack of books from the library, eating fruit snacks, and snuggling in the big chair.  I have been meaning to get the baby out of our bed, but decided it could wait a few more days.  They are only little once.  Happy Birthday my baby boy!

If I Could Write A Letter To You

Dear You,

If I could a letter to you, I would remind you everyday that you aren't perfect and I love you just the way you are.  You will sin, you will be a bad mother, wife, teacher, daughter, daughter-in-law, and friend, you will make mistakes, not everyone will like you.  But its OK.  Do your best and don't be too hard on yourself.  Learn from life and teach your children how to live life.  Trust in God for everything because you have no control over anything.  Smile often.  Laugh much.  Love with every ounce of yourself.  Spend time with those who don't care if your house is clean, your dishes are done, and your laundry is folded.  Take time to pray, cuddle, relax, and play tractors.  Run to make yourself feel good and be healthy, not to be skinny.  God has made you for a purpose.  Just be.

Love,
Me

Waiting

The words of a familiar song are playing in my head this week as I battle the blues. I can't remember all of them, or the artist, but it goes something like this, "I am waiting, waiting on you Lord. And I am hopeful...hmmm hm hm hm hm."

My life is beautiful. I thank God everyday for all I have been blessed with. I try so hard to live in the moment, but I am a controller, I have anxiety and depression, and sometimes I can't see the forest through the trees, but I am hopeful. I am working hard to battle my genetic and chemical deficits.

When I was younger, I watched my mother constantly battle depression, and I didn't understand. I knew her life wasn't perfect, far from it, but there were so many things to be thankful for. I could see God working in her life for good, but she couldn't. I could see that God gave her this burden so she might help others, but she couldn't. And now here I am.

I know there is a reason God gave me this burden, but now I need to work on TRUSTING this knowledge, TRUSTING God to lead me where I need to be. These are very very difficult things for me to do. I want everything done yesterday, I want what I want to happen now, but I do not know the plans God has for me, so I must wait and hope...and pray and TRUST God to lead me where I need to be.

I am waiting.

Little Red Rain Boots

Earlier this week, my three year old stopped me as I was on my way out the door to work. "Mom, wait! I need to show you something before you go," he said. He then ran to the book shelf and pulled out a frayed, softened, and obviously well-read baby board book. He knew exactly what page he was looking for and flipped right to it. The page he choose was a picture of a pair of little red rain boots. "Mom, can you get me a pair of new boots like this today? My black ones are getting too small (they are). I think they are in aisle 5 or maybe 9," he matter of factly told me. We live in a rural area, so the chances of finding toddler sized, shiny, red, rain boots in aisle 5 or 9, let alone any aisle were slim to none. However, I went to work, and searched the internet (not aisle 5 or 9) for little red rain boots. I found some too at one of my favorite sites! Yesterday, when I got home from work a shoe sized box was waiting for me by the door. Excitedly, I opened it up and then told my son, "I have a surprise, come look!" He was so excited and so convinced I found them in aisle 5 or maybe 9 thanks to his good directions.

The little red rain boots, wanted so badly by my little three year old boy, arrived just in time for a spring thaw day. It was beautiful today and the mud and water were both in abundance. We all went for a short walk to the park this afternoon and my boy had a fantastic time splashing through the puddles in his new red rain boots. The joy was palpable and helped to lift my blue spirit.

All that joy from a pair of little red rain boots, found in aisle 5 or maybe 9.