Self-Image

If there's one thing I've learned about myself in the last 8-1/2 years, it's that I'm never gonna manage to live up to my own self-image. Maybe that's a good thing, and maybe it's not ... I'm still trying to figure that out. I just know that the picture of who I am in my head doesn't really line up with the lady I see in the mirror anymore.

Don't get me wrong ... I love being a mom (at least most of the time). It's the one job I always wanted, and I'm grateful that I'm getting the chance to fulfill that dream. Somehow, though, there was always a gap, I guess, in my head between actually BEING a mom and LOOKING like a mom. In my head I still see the size 6-8 young lady I was in my teens and twenties. I found a look that worked for me and I loved it. Accenting things like my trim waist and long legs became second nature to me ... in many respects, it was just who I WAS.

Then I was blessed with a wonderful husband and 3 children in 5 years. I jumped into the role of full-time mommy whole-heartedly, and even though I'm still learning how to juggle all the joys and responsibilities, I'm thankful every day for the chance to do it. Being a Mommy has become almost as natural to me as any other part of my normal life.

Once in a while, I pass a mirror, though, and wonder what happened to the person I remember. Now I actually LOOK like a Mommy. I spend most days in jeans and a t-shirt, because it's easy to go from cleaning to cooking to child-care to whatever in it. More often than not, I've got my hair yanked up in a pony-tail or some such thing, because it keeps it out of the way of the chores and little fingers. Where I used to somehow feel undressed without my makeup on, now I'm doing good to "put my face on" on Sunday morning before church. My trim waist isn't any more ... I'm not heavy, but I look like I've had three kids. Most of the time I don't worry about it, until and unless the occasional someone asks me when the next baby is due. Then I start pondering an old-fashioned girdle or something. Or doing something unthinkable, like trying to find extra time for a dreaded "regular exercise routine" beyond the normal stuff I do during the day. (Fortunately, something usually comes up and that thought doesn't last long!) I look in the mirror now, and see my mother ... and though I love her dearly, somehow the thought always startles me as I'm sure it does every generation of women.

When I occasionally get to feeling discouraged about the whole thing, though, a ray of sunshine brightens my day  ... most often in the form of my husband. He is loving and caring and so many of the things I hoped for in a man I would marry. He doesn't care whether I wear makeup ... he says he prefers me without it. He has even been known to tell me he likes to come home and see me all frazzled, because he knows I've been doing all the things that I need and want to do. He tells me I'm beautiful when I feel the most bedraggled, and though I don't always completely believe him, I am glad that he thinks so, because I don't really think of myself in those terms anymore ... I'm too busy being Mommy.

And perhaps the biggest blessing of having a man like this in my life is that his children listen, and they learn. They randomly call me beautiful on days when I don't necessarily feel that way, and I smile at the future, because I know some day those words will probably encourage a Mommy of my grandchildren, and she, as I, will feel blessed.

Old age, digital age, and somewhere in between

I don't know if it's because I'm a Mom, or if it's because I've hit "middle age" or what, but it seems like I've been thinking a lot lately about things that seem to have gotten lost over the years. When I was growing up there were things that we learned and it was just taken for granted that this is the way things should be done. Things like learning to write letters and thank you notes, or calling folks older than yourself "Mr." and "Mrs.", unless you were given permission to call them something else. Things that we thought of as common courtesies, and yet as I ponder them now, I wonder if most kids will ever learn a lot of them. Of course, I know it's my job to teach my kids these things, but for the moment that's not what I'm talking about.

I want my kids to be able to take advantage of all the things that our "digital age" has to offer, but I also want to be sure that they don't get caught up in the mentality that says you have to hurry through your life trying to get to the next milestone. Sometimes as parents we make that mistake, because when our kids come into the world we instantly start looking forward to the day when they will be smiling, sleeping through the night, sitting up, crawling, walking, talking, and everything else we can think of. Our kids pick up on this and start looking forward to the day that they can start school, start hobbies, sleep over with friends, get to the weekend, learn to drive, graduate from high school, get a job, get their own place, and so on. It seems all of us, as a people, are in so much of a hurry to "get there" that we forget to enjoy the journey. And in an age that seems to be determined to make everything quicker and more convenient, it seems to me like it's even more important to teach my kids about how to slow down and be thoughtful, how to make memories and how to share them, and how to be thankful for the experiences of others.

Most of what I have been thinking about in the last few days is the fading art of letter writing. There was a time in this country that letter writing was the only way to keep up with what was happening with friends and family. I didn't live in that time period as much as some older folks I know, but I do remember when getting letters in the mail was more common, and we looked forward to the arrival of the mail carrier. There was nothing quite like the heart-leap you felt when you found an envelope with familiar handwriting in the mailbox, and you went off immediately to find a quiet spot and find out what your loved one had to say. In this day and age, although we can communicate with folks much faster by email, it seems that our incentive to communicate has dwindled.

When my husband and I were first engaged, I made it a point of writing my grandmother every week, keeping her up to date on all the plans and other things that were going on. I did this because I loved her, and because I didn't think she was going to get to come to the wedding. (She did get to come due to the generosity of my uncles, and I was thrilled!) Before my oldest son was born, I often wrote him letters, telling him about the things that I wished for him. As one child and then another came along, I lost the time to sit and write letters as much, but I've been thinking I'd like to get back to doing it. And one of the main group of letters I want to write is to my sons.

It may be, Lord willing, that I will live long enough to teach them all the things I want to teach them and more. Or, with the family history that we have of dementia and Alzheimer's (at least four generations that I'm aware of), it may be that I begin to lose the memories before my kids are old enough to take an interest in them. But I can write them letters about our life together now, or about my life as a child. I can tell them about people that I've known and loved, and places I've seen. I can tell them about my outlook on life, and the things I hold most dear. I can tell them family stories and about the people who came before us. I can tell them so many things that I want them to know, and I want to be sure I have time to tell them these things no matter what life has in store. I want them to be able to sit down and not only read what I have to say, but the way I say them, so they have memories of what their Mom was like long after I am gone.

So I hope you'll excuse me now ... I have letters to write.

Getting things done

One of the realities of being a full-time Mom: there's always more that needs doing than there are hours enough in the day to get it done. If you're gonna be a full time Mom, you might as well know it now and get over it.

I've always (or at least for as long as I can remember) been one of those people who tried to figure things out. I don't know if that's just the way God programmed me, or if it comes from things like my love of puzzles, or if it was inherited from my handy-man Daddy. Maybe it's a mish-mash of all those things, who knows? All I know is that, for a long time now, I've had the "If it's to be it's up to me" approach to most things. If I want something to get done, the easiest way I know of to accomplish that is to do it myself. Of course, this means that there's always too much to get done, because it's almost all on my plate. Sometimes, it feels overwhelming ... exhausting even. But the truth is that it keeps my life from ever having a chance to be "boring", and it gives me a chance to do things for the people I care about.

For instance, my husband rarely, if ever, has the typical "honey-do" list. There's a variety of reasons for that. First of all, I was blessed with a man who is willing to go to work every day and let me stay home with our children, knowing that it will mean we don't have a new car every few years, or cable TV, or the latest gadgets that everyone is talking about. He knows that being a mother is all I really wanted to do, and he's given me the opportunity to follow that dream. That, in itself, makes me want to do whatever I can to ease his burdens where I can. And bless his heart, despite his love of home improvement shows and the like, he just doesn't have the patience to try and figure things out when they aren't working the way they should. It's just not in his makeup, and that's fine. As long as he can mow the yard now and then (which I CAN do, but try to avoid because of my asthma) and takes out the garbage (which I can also do, but would rather not), I'm quite content to just ask for the occasional, "When you get a minute, would you mind ..." and leave it at that.

I'm quite aware of my limitations, though. There's no way I can get everything done all by myself. I make lists a lot so I don't forget things, because sometimes I honestly think that I gave away a lot of my brain cells to my kids while I was carrying them. It's all circumstantial, of course, but they are each brilliant in their own ways, and I don't remember things half as well as I used to ... I'm sorry, where was I?

Oh yeah, getting things done. I know I can't do everything, but oddly enough, it gives me a chance to teach my children about getting things done. They are still at an age where they want to be helpers, especially if they are getting to do something out of the ordinary. And so, at 8, 5, and 3, I have them sort laundry in a corner of the kitchen while I make breakfast. Surprisingly, most of it actually ends up in the right place. I can hand them each a dust rag and turn them loose in the house and 1/2 to 2/3 of a job I loathe will be taken care of before I finish the vacuuming. I look for kid-sized jobs, like having them unload the clothes dryer and learn to fold socks, and I teach them one thing at a time, because I know that one day they'll need to do all these things for themselves. And if I've helped them learn to do it I've shown my love for them without them even knowing it. And as I watch them learn to accomplish new things on their own, I can smile at their success, and mark something else off my list as complete.

Mary Poppins moments

Ok, I'm goofy ... I'll admit it (but only this once, and if you try to prove it later I'll only deny it!). I suppose it's only to be expected, considering I grew up in a Rogers household. If you know my clan, that will make perfect sense ... if you don't, well, I'm afraid you're really missing out. Sorry about that.

One of the things that my family has always done is play word games. Twisting words or their meanings, bad puns, changing letters to make new words ... basically whatever we can think of. We've even been known to pirate other people's word creations into our own family's everyday vocabulary. You have to think quickly to keep up with conversations around the Rogers table. As a result of this upbringing, there are times when my thoughts jump from one thing to the next in ways that are entertaining to me, and highly confusing to other people.

Case in point ... my husband asked me a couple of weeks ago if there was a particular reason I was posting quotes from Mary Poppins on my Facebook page. And I laughed, because the answer was yes, but it was probably going to take me longer to explain than it took me to think of it.

One of the main jobs I have had since we married was taking care of our finances. He hates it, and I don't mind doing it, and since I had training in accounting it just seemed to fall to me to do it, which is fine. I can't say I've always been good at it ... it's taken me quite a while to develop a plan that seems to work, and has us gaining ground instead of losing it. This has been especially important since the kids came along, because we've lived on one income for the last 6 years, and for most of that time period we had a very small income to work with. Add in factors like multiple kids in diapers, and sometimes it was quite a challenge. Then about 18 months ago, I finally found a budgeting system that works really well for us. That, in addition to the new job that my husband was blessed with about a year ago, have gotten us to the point that we don't have to hold our breath from one paycheck to the next, but actually have the money for bills and things there when we need it. It's been an enormous blessing.

A couple of weeks ago I was paying bills as I always do at the first of the month. I had balanced our budgeting book, and was doing some final "tweaking" on how I wanted to keep track of things when it suddenly occurred to me that what I was doing in my budget book was a lot like some of the online games that I get such a kick out of ... the ones that give you quests to complete, and rewards once you complete them. The farther you go the more complicated the quests get, but the larger the rewards are as well. Suddenly, in the time it had taken a thought to flit through my head, my budget planning had gone from being something that I didn't mind doing and needed my attention, to being a game that I could succeed at and enjoy. A budget? Enjoyable? What a revolutionary thought!

And it only took a moment from the time that it became a "game" that I thought of Mary Poppins. She says, "In every job that must be done, there is an element of fun. You find the fun, and SNAP! ... the job's a game!" In that moment, I actually laughed out loud, which is why I posted it that day on Facebook. It didn't mean much to most folks but me, really, but it reminded me that I need to always need to teach my sons to find the good in whatever situation they are working on, no matter how mundane it seems. And the other thing I want to be sure that they learn was at the end of that same Mary Poppins tune, when Michael complains about wanting to tidy up the nursery again. We don't always have to have all the things we think we want, or constantly be entertained. Because what Mary said is true:

"Enough is as good as a feast."

A Mommy is a helper

Several months ago when we were visiting family, a very thoughtful gentleman suggested that I write a book about mothering. I kind of laughed and told him that I posted on a blog page at times, but that was about as close as I figured I'd get. While I was flattered, I'm not sure I'd ever consider myself enough of an "expert" to really feel like I oughta be telling someone else "how-to".

That being said, being a Mommy by nature makes me a helper. Or maybe it's because it's in my nature to want to be a helper that I became a Mommy. I'm not sure I could really untangle the one idea from another. In the end it doesn't really matter. Trying to help seems to be a part of who I am, whether I can really help or not. It manifests itself in many ways.

This past week, my youngest has been sick. Beyond sick ... he's been the kind of sick that begins to spook you, where you end up calling the doctor every time you turn around. We finally got him diagnosed over the weekend ... apparently his cold morphed into a double ear infection and developing pneumonia. I'm not sure I've ever been that spooked when it comes to my kids. I spent a day and a half before we got in to see the doctor feeling totally helpless, because there wasn't anything I could DO to try and help. It's an awful feeling ... I was literally on the verge of tears for 36-48 hours. Now, with large doses of antibiotics, he's beginning to improve, and I'm finally beginning to relax again. Somehow, that kind of helping (or trying to help) seems natural when it comes to mothering.This afternoon, though, I found myself trying to help in other ways ... ways that weren't specifically related to my own family, beyond sharing my experiences.

I'm acquainted with a young mother who is only half my age. Her first child is about six months old, and while I was wandering around on a popular social media page I tripped across a post she had made that gave me the distinct impression that she was frustrated and discouraged. There were things that she was wanting to do, and trying to do, but for one reason or another they weren't working and it left her feeling like she was missing out. So I sent her a brief message that said, in essence, "If you want to talk to someone, let me know." She did.

I spent a while talking back and forth with her, and wondered if I was really helping. Perhaps I was. Perhaps I was only telling her things that she already knew. I guess the point of my reaching out to her was that I knew that when you are a new mother, even if you already "know" something, it helps to have some encouragement and reinforcement of those ideas ... someone to tell you that, no, you're not crazy for thinking what you're thinking, and no, you shouldn't feel guilty in this or that situation. Sometimes it just helps to know that someone has been through it before, and guess what ... it'll probably turn out just fine, even if it doesn't feel that way right this minute. Truth be told, sometimes even more "experienced" mothers feel that way (i.e. the sick child illustration above). I don't really have any way of knowing, since we weren't actually TALKING but doing it all by computer, whether I helped at all or not. I hope I did. And I hope that if she needs someone to talk to again she'll remember me. Because whether it's yours or someone else's ... a mother wants to be, if nothing else, a helper to those who need her.

There are things I remember ...

It's amazing the things that I once thought I needed or wanted from life that seem to have fallen by the wayside since I had children. So many things were just "normal" back then, and now I occasionally wonder what happened. I wonder where the girl I knew went, and whether I should mourn her passing. It's not that all that stuff is necessarily "better", or really "needed" at all, just that ... well, I guess things just change.

I remember a time when my husband and I both worked, and although we probably didn't budget as carefully as we could have, we had the ability to go out to eat or go to a movie when we wanted to. I even managed to save a decent down-payment on our first home, although it wasn't as much as I would have preferred. Now, money is tighter because it has to go more directions, and there is only half as much coming in. Still, my husband was blessed with a new job this past year, which has made things easier, and I've learned to budget much more effectively ... the bills are always paid, and we still eat out sometimes, although our restaurant choices have narrowed drastically. We almost never make it to the movies anymore, but the stories are just as good when they get to the library's free DVD selection as they are on the big screen. Not missing out much there.

I remember the luxury of sleeping in ... ah, now THAT I miss, at least part of the time! Now I've got three little boys who want to be up and moving with the sun, and "sleeping in" for me is usually only about 7:30 am. Still, it's a hour and a half more than I normally get, so I can't really complain.

I remember how much I enjoyed my "quiet time" ... time to just sit and read or do research or crafts with little to no interruptions. Now, I have nearly constant "little" interruptions ... I have to tell myself that they are learning and growing, and if I want them to be the kinds of young men I hope them to be, they are going to have to do most of their learning from me. If I neglect those things, someone else will take up the slack, and I may not like the results. Sometimes, like most everyone, I'd rather "do my own thing", but then I try to remind myself that soon ... much too soon ... my little ones won't be coming to me with their questions and their problems, and I need to take advantage of the time I have with them. I also find myself mindful of the time that I did not ever get to have with the little one we lost, and it helps me pull myself out of the "interruption irritation".

I remember feeling attractive, all dressed up in high heels, with my hair and nails done and my makeup on ... these days I feel ordinary, in blue jeans and a t-shirt, with my hair pulled back out of the way of little hands and projects that need doing. I'm doing good to get makeup on my face once a week for church, my hair cut a couple times a year, and I can't even remember the last time I got my nails done. I haven't really worn high heels much since the year Chris and I married, because I broke my foot that winter, and they've never been that comfortable since. My husband and my children tell me I'm pretty, and I'm thankful they think so, but I don't think of myself in that gear any more. For the most part, I've got too many other things to think about.

There are so many things ... but it boils down to my chosen perspective. Because most of all I remember this: Once I was lonely ... now I am surrounded by love. Whether it's exactly what I expected it to be or not, I am living the life I wanted to live, and I am exceptionally blessed.

A New Year for Mommy

I don't really believe in "New Year's Resolutions" all that much. I think people have good intentions as they start out the new year, but somehow the "resolution" tag just allows all those good intentions to fall between the cracks of every day life, because after all, resolutions were made to be broken anyway.

That being said, I think that setting goals for yourself in the New Year is a great idea. It gives you a challenge for yourself ... room to grow and be more of the person that you could be. I have financial goals for for myself and the family for the year, and that sort of thing. But the goals that I want to work on the hardest are the personal ones. And when I stop to think about it, so many of them revolve around me and my children. I suppose, since I'm a Mommy, that's only natural. The more I thought about it, though, the more I realized that in many ways, my goal is to become more LIKE my children this year. Yes, I have to be the Mommy, and the "responsible-grown-up-person" in the equation, but sometimes I think that part of growing as a person is learning that you can re-visit the child you once were without fear or embarrassment.

This then is a list of some of my goals for the New Year ... the things that I have picked up on with my children. There are so many more things I could list, but this is a good place to start:

I want to wake up each morning with a smile on my face.
I want to give generously of my hugs and kisses.
I want to dance when I like the music.
I want to sing when I feel like it, even if the words don't make sense.
I want to stop and investigate when I'm curious.
I want to be glad when I can help.
I want to feel deeply, and forgive quickly.
I want to jump up and down when I'm excited.
I want to always be glad that it's "church day".
I want to laugh loudly at jokes, even if (or especially if) they're goofy.
I want my sibling to be one of my best friends.
I want to take joy in simple things.

May you all have a "childish" New Year!