Friday, February 24, 2012

This Moment


{this moment} - A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.  Inspired by SouleMama.
If you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your 'moment' in the comments for all to find and see.

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Dealing With Tough Days

Z as a two-year old ball of energy and independence.
"Waking up this morning, I smile.  
Twenty four brand new hours are before me.  
I vow to live fully in each moment 
and to look at all beings with the eyes of compassion." 
Thich Nhat Hahn

I learn so much about Z and myself when we have tough days.

I've seen my ugly side when he blows up.  In him and me.

I've learned how to talk with him and pay attention to his cues so that we don't (usually) end up blowing up.  I am learning how to diffuse instead of deal with the aftermath.

It's like when I'm driving down the highway and a car comes up fast in the lane next to me.  I have a choice.  What kind of person do I want to be?  What is the best way to react?  I can wait until he cuts me off and slams on the breaks, and get furious.  Or I can see what's about to happen, slow down and prevent it.  Maybe just get out of the traffic.  It will pass.

We've had some of the best play days, park days and shopping trips since I've learned what works.

It's easy to see when he is tired, intimidated or over-stimulated.  Maybe his energy doesn't match those around him.  That means it is time to go.

I have no formula.  I just have to pay better attention.  I can't expect to control, all I can do is encourage.

We talk.  We hug.  I listen.

I've learned the right words.  Energetic, enthusiastic, strong willed and independent.  Not feisty, hard to deal with, rude and unpredictable.  I compliment him as much as possible.

Sometimes it takes longer than others and we still have bad moments, but it's working for us.

"Change your perspective, and the most ordinary things take on inexpressible beauty."  

I've got a beautiful boy.  I can't expect.  I have to appreciate.

He's been different than other kids since the moment I first felt him.  I can't expect him to be other than how he is.  I have learned how to deal with his differences.

I haven't even had a close repeat of the photo-shoot day, which I blame more on me than him.

He has even quit using choice words.  You know the ones.  The ones no mother wants to hear.

There is less hitting and physical explosion.

He is learning patience, tolerance and empathy having a brother.  It's tough learning to share the world with others and be compassionate.

I'm learning.  He's learning.  We're learning together.  Each moment is new territory.

I remember before I had kids, or when Z was young, and I'd see others' kids going nuts.  I'd think, "Wow. I will never have a kid that acts like that."  I now laugh at my arrogance back then.

I have now walked a few miles on the darkside.  I know many around me don't understand because their kids aren't like Z, but that's OK.  They've never taken a few steps in my shoes.  I'm doing my best and that's all I can do.

It's not easy being three.

It's not easy being a mom.

Saturday, February 18, 2012

Joy Pockets

Snuggly chunky babies.

Brotherly love.
It's fuzzy but I love it.
Watching brothers hug.
Mobile babies working so hard at every single thing.

Beautiful birds in February.
Robins, eastern bluebirds and cardinals have been some of our favorites.
Foam pits are pretty awesome.
Rainy cuddly days.

Z's portrait of his brother. 
Friends I haven't seen in a while!

Bodhi playing with food.


Self portrait.


joy pockets

 Joy Pockets.
Thank you, Holistic Mama.

Thursday, February 16, 2012

Colossal Faith


"I look at my son's open and shining face.
In his mind there are no old jobs,
old hurts or old grudges.
No gossip or fretting.
Not the debris of dashed hopes or unrealized plans.
Nothing hounding him.
Nothing to prove.
No list on the refrigerator.
There is just immediacy, honesty and perfection.
Somehow he trusts that everything he needs will be provided here and now.
If I could muster just a tiny bit of his colossal faith that everything is, and will be, okay, 
I could live differently."


This quote can stop me in my tracks and slow me down.  I love these words.  

*I changed her to him, but the essence remains the same.  




Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Changes


Change happens.

We've had a lot of it lately in a very short period of time.

I am so grateful for my tiny teachers, always reminding me that I can accept change, or I can fight it.  

I can get frustrated or sad about it, or I can accept that frustration and sadness and keep on truckin'.  

I can put on a smile and laugh, or I can put on a frown and ruin the mood for everyone.

I can dwell on how much harder it is, or I can simply make us all more comfortable.

There's always a little of both.

Bodhi has become mobile.  He is no longer the tiny infant that I can set down on the play-mat and walk away to grab some water.  Oh, no.

All in a matter of weeks he was pushing up...

Getting up on hands and knees...

Doing downward dog...

Rocking back and forth...

Sitting up...

Putting one hand then knee in front of the other...

Crawling...

Pulling up...

Standing while holding on...

Working hard to get to anything anywhere...

And now he is ready to play with big brother.  I mean really play.  Crawl on him, pull hair and seek out his tiny Legos.

He wants to really be in the experience now.


As soon as Bodhi began taking off, I began to feel nostalgic.  He is no longer my tiny immobile infant.  He is learning independence and becoming capable of exploring.  He is outgrowing nine month outfits and he is seven months old.  He is no longer a newborn.  Of course, he's still cuddly and lovey dovey but he is also ready to explore on his own a little more each day.

We have got to understand that he is busy sometimes and doesn't just want to be pulled away from something.  He works hard getting from point A to point B.  He gets very frustrated when he gets to a toy, only to have it taken away or replaced.

He's learning how to use his little body and finding such pleasure in it.  It's an honor to be a part of it.

These tiny people change so fast and all I can do is bear witness to it and assist it.

Routines are changing.  

Naptime are changing.

Dinnertime is changing.

Bathtime is changing.

Bedtime is changing.

Everything is changing.

We're all growing in leaps and bounds.

I must clear the paths and let go.  

Friday, February 3, 2012

This Moment


{this moment} - A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.  Inspired by SouleMama.
If you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your 'moment' in the comments for all to find and see.

Thursday, February 2, 2012

Twenty-two Breaths

Last night, I stepped from the playroom into the garage so that I could check on the laundry.

I had just cleaned the kitchen, picked up the living room and playroom, checked on Bodhi, and was ready to sit down.

How long is this going to take?  What can I go do real quick?

Then I paused.

I don't have a few breaths to stand here until it is done?

So I stood and decided to count my breath.

I thought about how Z will stand in awe of the most simple things.

I thought about how lucky I was to be standing in our own home, in our own garage, with a working washing machine and dryer that I have all to myself.

I thought about how lucky I was to have a family to wash laundry for.

I thought about how the washer sounded, smelled, felt, and looked.

I folded the blankets that were in the dryer.

Twenty-two breaths and countless thoughts later it slowly stopped spinning.

Twenty-two breaths.

I couldn't wait twenty-two breaths?

My mind sure can be busy about so many things that aren't even happening.

Sometimes I just have to pause and look at what is in front of me.

Sometimes it's easy to take what is in front of us for granted.

I'm glad when I pause to notice the simple pleasures in life, just like my children do.