What's to Show For It?

There is much satisfaction from working hard and in return having something tangible and shiny to show for it. A trophy of sorts to affirm your efforts and say, "job well done".

When you're in the business of character and mind development of kids there is usually no way to measure the progress and worth of one day. As a SAHM and a math teacher, Nate and I had the following conversation this evening:

me the SAHM: I just feel frustrated that I'm managing them [our children] all day and working so hard at it and have nothing to show for it but a mess!

Nate the teacher: At least you get loved all day. I'm constantly managing ungrateful teenagers and all I have to show for it is three extra gray hairs.

Parenting. Teaching. These are jobs of endurance and hope. The daily battles for a long-term goal, progress benchmarks so gradual you can't see them in real-time.

When all we can see at the end of the day are dirty dishes and new gray hairs it's good to remember that proverbial drops in the ocean were made. We're in the long-term business of forming people.

All Little Girls Are Princesses

Shirley Temple knew. All girls are princesses. It is an intrinsic knowledge in little girls, I am certain. The knowledge that they are beautiful. That they are lovely. That they have power and influence. That they bring joy just by being alive. That knowledge just gets lost sometimes as princesses grow older and years of the world whispering otherwise makes them question or forget. It's fun to watch a two year old who still, undeterred by age, believes that princesses are beautiful. That she is a princess. That she is beautiful.

Selah Grace teeters and clomps down the hallway in plastic pumps that sparkle and light up. Every once in a while she just has to put on her tutu and wave her magic wand gleefully squealing, "magic, MAGic, MAGIC!"

This morning she climbed into our bed to show me the Snow White band-aid on her forehead, exclaiming, "Look! Snow White! Don't worry Mama! Her prince will come!"

This afternoon she asked Nate to draw her a prince and a princess together. When he did she joyfully declared, "The princess and the prince! He right by her! Her fream COME FRUE!"

Yes, we'll be encouraging her not to sit around and wait for a prince in life. But, yes, we'll be encouraging her to remember that she IS a princess. She is beautiful and determined. Powerful and influential. Lovely and wise and brings joy to the world simply by being in it.

I hope that she will remember that ALL little girls (including her) are princesses for a long time to come.

The Power of Choice

Choice. It's a powerful thing. Last year I attended a mommy session where a children's play therapist talked about positively disciplining children through offering them choices that are within the confines of your boundaries as a parent. I whole-heartedly believe this has saved our little family a slack-heap of stressful and frustrating situations.

Toddlers really want to be in control. (Something I absolutely understand!) But there is so little in the circumstances of their day they have any control over. If it were up to Selah Grace, Daddy would never have to leave for work and we'd spend every day building sandcastles at the beach. Now that you mention it, if Nate could have his way, that sounds about right....

Choices give a toddler a sense of autonomy and control of their world. I find myself continually spouting choice statements throughout the day to a little person who is still so new to life. Healthy life choices. Cause and Effect.

"Do you want to pick out an outfit for today or do you want mama to choose?"
"If you choose to scream over sleeping baby, then you choose a time out."
"It's okay to be upset, but hitting is not okay. You can choose to stomp your feet or choose to snuggle your pillow instead."

I think all of this empowering the toddler to be a respectful, helpful, empowered, self-thinker is working. Selah Grace has an absolute LOVELY disposition and is such a joy to parent. But lately I'm getting stuck on my choice statements. She's not even 2 and a half yet, but it feels like we're nearing 3, because most of the time she is too smart for her own britches and offers up a third way.

Example:
Mama - "It's time for lunch! Do you choose hotdog or a peanut butter and honey sandwich?"
Selah Grace - "Um...I choose CHIPS!"
Mama - "That's not one of the choices right now. You can have hotdog or a pb sandwich."
Selah Grace - "I want peabub bubbar and honeeeeeeey......umm....and CHIPS!"

So here we are. Just when I was getting the hang of choice statements and feeling good about them. Now we're navigating new territory together. Choice statements and compromises.

In the end she did have a pb sandwich...and some chips. Cassava chips. Because I'm the mama and even though in the end she has choices and compromises, I'm the one maintaining the boundaries.

But what to do when they choose to not choose your choices? What comes after the choices?

Sleep Nest

Selah Grace is a champion sleeper. She has been for quite some time. Recently we took the crib face off her bed and traded it for the toddler rail. Honestly we were avoiding this transition because we thought it was going to be a lot of work parenting her through it and we're tired. But she's a champ and the switch didn't wrinkle a feather.

I heard Super Nanny say that children shouldn't have any toys to distract them in their beds so they know their bed is for sleeping, not playing. Oops. These days Selah has turned her bed into a nest. She sleeps on top of and underneath mounds of treasures she has deamed as needing to be in her bed. Being the routine-driven, meticulously observant child that she is, Selah instantly knows what is missing from her bed when Mama tries to tidy up and requests them back until conditions are perfect.

It looks terribly uncomfy to me. I have to pull the sheet taught each night before getting in bed otherwise the slightest wrinkle keeps me awake. But it is her sleep nest and she loves it. I added up the items and it is shocking there's any room left for her!

Sleep Nest:
-2 adult pillows (reclaimed by her from Nate's side of the bed)
-1 throw pillow
- clean cloth diaper
- Cabbage Patch doll, Hallie Miriam
- footy pajama
- stuffed puppy
- stuffed kitty
- 3 blankies
- pacifier
- corduroy jumper
- stickers earned for potty training

Sorry, Super Nanny. It works for her. Since she sleeps 12 hours a night and takes 2-3hour naps, this Mama isn't going to fight it!

So, how's the bathroom remodel going?

It's not. Not at the moment anyway. It felt like the end was in sight. We finally found a vanity we both liked. Tile was all cut and in place. We agreed on a mirror and lived to tell the tale. As Nate was finishing grouting the shower tile he felt a weird sensation in his fingers. He was doing it with his hands, not the trowel because part of the shower is pebble tile and it is too bumpy. Weird sensation gave way to fierce burning and one urgent care visit later he was left with chemically burned fingertips and a great big grouting mess. Now we're waiting for his hands to heal so the work can resume. Bathroom remodel is not going according to plan, but isn't that the way remodeling goes? So maybe we're right on beat. We did learn one great thing from this unfortunate mess: urgent care co-pay is only $5! No ER trips for this family. That's the expensive co-pay. We're going to urgent care!

"I don't want to be the Wal-Mart mom!"

Thanks to my dear friend for that tag line after she ran 9months big pregnant after her 2yr old who was tearing down the road squealing with delight.

And just by reading the title you already have an image in your mind. Harried. Disheveled. Frantic. Demanding from their toddler, "Why!" Swearing up and down the blue and gray aisles that if kids don't behave soon they'll never see the light of day again!

Yeah. You know them. We judge them then give ourselves a mental pat on the back. We're Target moms.

And then...
* demure daughter is standing on top of the table in the public library screaming because it is fun to hear her own voice echo so loudly.
* what began as a simple request to put a toy away has turned into the next Waco standoff.
* the toddler is leaping/dangling out of the grocery cart while the newborn is screaming, and your purse just vomited all over the floor.
(true stories)

All of a sudden we feel like we should be wearing Faded Glory cut-offs and a great big banana clip.

No matter how put-together we try to appear as a mom, we all have those moments. The kids drank an extra dose of crazy juice and we're at the end. You can feel all eyes on you and how you are going to handle (or not handle) this discipline situation. The crazy part of your brain is swearing up and down those red aisles that this is the last time you'll ever attempt an outing again and the sane part is snorting in disbelief that you mom, yes you, turned this situation into a beast. Did it really need to be?

What I want to know is this: when do you dig in and when do you give in?

The Happiest Place on Earth

Last week my family came out to visit: Dad, BK, Skye, Brandon, Sarah, and Issy. Together we attempted the crazy; Disneyland. One Day. Six Adults. Four Kids. Here's some pictures to tide you over until our old, tired computer rests up enough for imovie to work.

Self-portrait on the way out. Selah and Josiah both passed out in stroller by this point.

Sweet Thing got to dance with Princess Tiana (her favorite Disney princess) in New Orleans town!

Skye, Issy, and Josiah chilling in Storybook Land.

My dad with Josiah.

Dad, BK, and Skye about to get their innards loosened on the Matterhorn!

Brandon and Sarah entering It's A Small World. Last time she was on it, the ride broke down and got stuck for 30 minutes. We're all thankful that didn't happen again!

Disneyland post part B to come with video as soon as our computer cooperates.

Numbered Conversations

Nate and I keep having the same conversations. Whether the byproduct of being best friends for almost ten years or the hazard of falling into the same cycles, I don't know. Last week we decided to just save each other's time and frustration by giving these common interactions numbers. The following conversations always start the same way, usually have the same middle, and rarely find a new ending.

# 1a: Where are my keys?
# 1b: Where are my sunglasses?
#6: Please change lanes out from behind this ridiculous driver.
# 12: Please pull the sheets taught.
#4: What do you want to do tonight? Play a game? Make out? Watch a movie?

We've been trying this out for a week now and it's working very well for us! This system is at least making otherwise irksome times lighthearted and buffers the annoyance of these very familiar, necessary, but banal conversations in a partnership.

A Good Pair of Shoes is a Relationship

This is the shoe I thought I wanted.

In the end, this is the shoe that was always mine.

Shoes aren't just shoes. They're a relationship. Finding the right pair of shoes is like finding your partner. It takes an open mind and some dedication.

This week for my birthday Nate bought me (and a kid in Argentina) a pair of Toms. I thought I knew what I wanted. I had the style and model all picked out ahead of time. I did all the appropriate research and created a list of justifications for why this pair was the perfect pair for me. In an amalgamation of anxious/nervous/eager anticipation I entered the store ready to meet my new shoes. I slid into them and....the etherealness of the shoes I had built up in my head were not what were pinching my feet. This pair of Toms were cute, but canvas material and abrasive to my achilles. These clearly were not the ones. Okay. Next pair. Black with little stripes and an inspirational, chic phrase, "Love is the new black." After a test walk around the store the left foot was flapping like an awkward swim flipper. Since the establishment wasn't interested in selling me two different sizes (6.5 for my right and 6 for me left) to make a complete set, we moved on to another shoe. Many styles and many size trials later, we found each other. Shoe relationship bliss.

The best relationships are reciprocal. You don't just choose a shoe. A shoe chooses you.

Thedoro What? Thedoro Wot!

We travelled to Africa this week, but it didn't take a grueling two day trek to get there. Ten minutes was all it took to park our car at 50th and El Cajon Blvd and pass through the steel screen door that acts as a space and time continuum into the southern hemisphere. Awash Ethiopian. What a lovely secret of the City Heights community!

Nate and I felt like we had teleported to Africa. The air in there is thick. "How does it smell like Africa?" I exclaimed to Nate as we settled into our chairs. It smelled like cooking flour and woven baskets and hot. Yes, there is a smell to hot. Even though our cokes came directly from the refrigerator, they were slightly warm and flat, gloriously tasting like every coke we had while living in Africa.

Service was indifferent to timeliness. Food was amazing. Our fingers smelled like thedoro wot many washes later. Nate and I felt like we had discovered a secret in this place and also had re-entered a secret in our marriage that only we can share and know. Our lives in Africa seem so far away some days. It's good to know that we can bring it to the forefront and sweat in the thickness of it with just a short drive and a long roll of injera.

Bars on the windows made us feel right at home.

Giraffe wood carving curio? Yes, please.

Mmmmm....looks awful. Tastes SO good!

Little girl. Big plate of food! Josiah's sleeping in his sling under the protection of the napkin from my spicy, spice.