Five Things

As usual I’m stewing around thinking of all kinds of things to write about, and only managing to type out a few. With all the uncertainty in my life and in the world, I realized today that I can be deeply and wholly thankful for many things, big and small. Here are five things that tugged at me today.

1) Quiet Time

With four kids, having a daily quiet time at our house is essential, and it’s a habit I want us to continue indefinitely. So with two nappers, two non-nappers, and a mama who needs some mama-time, how do we do it?

Consistency: Every day that we’re home, the babies go down for naps and the big kids pick a room (separate since they share a room to sleep) and books and toys to take with them. I aim for two hours/day, roughly from 1:00 – 3:00 (please know that usually one hour of this is taken up with baby-care on my part…you do what you can).

Autonomy: The big kids get to pick which room (up for grabs are their bedroom and the spare bedroom, and sometimes my bed or the playroom depending on where Lolo is napping). They also get to choose toys and books, and I usually incentivize with the promise of something screen-time related, because most importantly, this time is…

Screen-free! The kids know this so it’s not even a question. And I do the same. I won’t even read a book on a tablet during this time so as to remain a dignified enforcer.

And I’m a stickler about enforcement. There was some negotiating at first, but now quiet time is so entrenched in our routine that, as soon as we finish lunch, my big kids head off to their respective corners of the house and get started. If all goes as planned, I get to read a book or close my eyes or do the dishes or simply bask in the sound of silence. If nothing else, I can usually poop alone.

(Cleveland c. July, 2009. This is also my #tbt for the day)

2) Library holds

I love putting books on hold at the library. It’s like Christmas every time the email comes saying something is ready for pick-up. A little sliver of literary bliss. Something I do only for myself.

3) Christmas cards, or holiday cards, or whatever…

I used to find these somewhat self-ingratiating and obnoxious. Beautiful pictures of you and your family and your doggies and weird updates about your lives that are strangely personal and yet totally generic. Blah!

I think distance has changed me. This Christmas, I thrilled opening every card we received. Living so far from so many people we care about, it’s been a true gift to hear from everyone and get lots of pictures of family and friends to adorn my kitchen. I’ve loved the perfectly posed photos and the quirky ones, too! And handwritten notes are always extra special. If I didn’t make your list this year, PM me and I’ll happily share my addressJ I promise to return in kind.

(Card courtesy of my amazing friend Jill and her awesome small business Bella Carta Boutique, at www.bellacartaboutique.com)

4) Kids who care

Yesterday Cleveland faced a small challenge being nervous to start something new, and Lucie totally stepped up to ease his fears. She was kind and composed and genuinely wishing him well. It was very sweet. And moments like this are everywhere in my life. When Coco spontaneously pats Lolo’s head and kisses him while I’m nursing. When I call to Lucie to find her shoes for the fifteenth time, and Cleveland comes down the hall holding them out for her. These things happen.

(Cleve and Lucie then...)

 (...and now)

(then there were three...)

(...then four. Poor, poor Coco)

[The other s*** happens, too. The screaming and the bickering and the name-calling and the colliding in the hallway to see who can get there first. And lots of times I ask again and again to puleeeze just do what I asked like seven times ago! But sometimes, they just do it the first time.]

When that happens, it’s magic.

And that’s number 5…Fleeting Magic

I’ve been thinking about this since I first held Lolo in the hospital back in August. I have a grade-schooler, a preschooler, a toddler and an infant. Four different kids in four developmental stages who all need and want and love in their own ways. And time is ticking and however it went down today, it’s sure to be different tomorrow.

Our lives will get less crazy. There will be less crying at some point, and, I’ve been assured, less pee all over my bathroom. One day, they’ll all be continent and able to blow their noses and tie their shoes and won’t ask me to do. Every. Darn. Thing. We’re “in the thick of it right now”, as people like to say. I couldn’t survive if I couldn’t step back and chuckle at how nuts it is. I hope I always remember how it feels to walk into the kitchen and find something crunching beneath my feet because someone got the cereal down all by herself this morning. I’m not in love with crayon drawings on my couch, but I’ve never been more in love with Coco’s face than when I caught her doing it. 

They say youth is wasted on the young, and I certainly wasted my own. Everyday, I’m given the gift of time to revel in theirs. And a pity it would be to squander that. 

...

Obviously I could've written about coffee, but, c'mon, that's a gimme.