Category Archives: Motherhood

Opportunities Given and Hugs Received

I believe that joy is found in the journey; not just in the destinations. And what makes that joy along the way so great is that sometimes we find it in places where we least expect it, and at times when we aren’t necessarily experiencing joy’s conditional counterpart, happiness.

Friday afternoon, I received a, “Just thought you should know,” text from my childcare provider; warning me that Keilan had been coughing and sneezing all afternoon.  He seemed ok when I went to pick him up.  But he slept all the way home, and after I carried him in the house, he didn’t want to move from his daddy’s lap. Before dinner, I realized that he had a low-grade fever and by the next morning, he was undeniably “sick.”  In fact, he spent most of the weekend crying. He laid on the couch silently sobbing, occasionally calling out: “Mommy, I no feeling so well.”  And, “Mommy, help!  Why you not making me feel better?”  It has been a long weekend.  Which brings me to that joy that finds you in those moments that are not particularly happy…

My Little Man <3 So Miserable... But Still So Cute

My Little Man ❤
So Miserable…
But Still So Cute

Last night, Patrick and I were planning to go out with friends.  I had my sister lined up to watch the boys.  I was definitely looking forward to a night out.  A night out would have made me happy.  But I sent Patrick out instead, rocked Kai to sleep for the night, and hunkered down with my three-year-old guy for a long night of anything-I-can-do-to-make-Keilan-feel-better.  And there we were.  I felt some joy, even as I sent Patrick on his way, at the opportunity I have been given to be “Mom:” to be the one that Keilan would inevitably cry for and to be the one who just might be able to bring him some comfort simply by being there with him.  But don’t get me wrong, I was also very disappointed to be missing out on time with friends. And I was exhausted.

My little guy cried and cried and cried. He finally fell asleep, but his sleep was fitful and only lasted for an hour.  When he woke up, his temperature was high and he shivered violently, crying inconsolably.  I fought back tears of my own as I would have done anything to make my little man feel better; this was not a happy time. And then, right there, in the middle of all that sadness; joy.  As I helped Keilan get dressed after a quick, cooling bath, he threw his arms around my neck, and whispered: “I wuv you, Momma.”  His sweet, unsolicited proclamation of love took me by surprise, and I returned his hug with a heartfelt: “I love you too, Baby.”  And then, he squeezed me a little tighter and began singing, “I wuv you. You wuv me. We’re a happy family…” and then he trailed off with a sigh; placing his head on my shoulder.  And there it was: joy.  I didn’t make it out with my friends, I was (and still am!) utterly exhausted from sleep lost the last two nights, and it was devastating to see my little man so miserable.  However, in that moment, I found joy in my journey.

There might be more to say, and more to think, but for now…I am just embracing that moment of joy in a weekend that was not-so-fun.  I am grateful for the opportunity to be Mom.  I will treasure that late-night moment of love that I shared with my little man.  And I will continue to search for joy in my journey; in gratitude for opportunities given and hugs received.

Sunday Night Trip to Urgent Care: Big Yawn and a Double Ear Infection

Sunday Night Trip to Urgent Care:
Big Yawn and a Double Ear Infection

Dreams, Bedtime, and a Snowman name Frosty

Today, a dream was realized. No; I didn’t miraculously finish-up that dissertation I’ve been working on for the past few years. I didn’t win an all-expense-paid trip to Hawaii or free Caribou coffee for a year.  However, a dream was realized: Keilan built a snowman.

First Snow

Keilan enjoying the first
snow of the season 🙂

On the very first snow day this winter, when a few flakes floated down from the sky, Keilan lay awake for hours after I put him to bed.  When I went to check on him, I found him sitting on my bed, staring out the window.  Once he noticed me, he didn’t dive back under the covers like he usually does when he gets “caught” out of bed.  Instead, he turned to me with the largest eyes imaginable and said: “Momma! There’s snow on the gate. And on the leaves. And the trees. And the houses…” As he trailed off, I snuggled him back into bed. And as I started to leave the room, he called out in a breathless whisper: “Momma! Will it be ‘nuff?”  I attempted to hide a knowing grin; there was no need for me to ask what he was referring to with his excited question.  Though I didn’t want to crush his dreams, I carefully tried to lower his hopes regarding the likelihood of whether or not there would be ‘nuff (translate: enough) snow to build a snowman in the morning.  The next day, as we drove to daycare, he was still marveling at the snow: on the cars, on the grass, on the road, on the signs…. The snow was less than an inch thick, but it had blanketed our commute in white and raised his two-year-old hopes of building a snowman.  Between the van and the door to our childcare provider’s home, Kei and I made a little pile of snow that we called a “snowman” and I assured him we would make another, “real” snowman soon.  I went to work that day with extra joy in my journey; I felt the joy of anticipation: the joy found in that magical first snow.

A few weeks went by before I could answer that hopeful question, “Is there ‘nuff?” with an emphatic: “Yes.” And when the snow came, Keilan and I wasted no time in setting out to build a snowman.  Just getting ready to go outside is an adventure. Putting on snowpants, boots, coat, hat, mittens…all in a particular order, caused all involved to be somewhat sweaty and exhausted before ever reaching the door. But we survived the prep work and Keilan jubilantly led the way outside.

Yes, I did capture a picture of Keilan crying in the "COLD! snow...after all, I think it is important to capture all of life's moments: even the less-than joyous ones ;)

Yes, I did capture a picture of Keilan crying in the “COLD! snow…after all, I think it is important to capture all of life’s moments: even the less-than joyous ones 😉

Our time in the snow that day was limited. Sadly, we were back inside in less time than it took us to get ready to go outside in the first place.  Keilan came to the realization that snow was “Cold!” and that mittens, while necessary for touching the snow, restrict the movement of your fingers.  Although I was undeniably frustrated that afternoon, I had to laugh as well. The poor guy was soooooo excited to go play in the snow; and sooooo devastated by the reality of it. It made me think about how often we think that we know exactly what we want until we realize that our dreams come with some discomfort and restriction as well.  That day, joy was in a reminder about perspective: the grass isn’t always greener on the other side of the fence…and the snow just might be colder?

For the past few weeks, I have felt that Keilan might be ready to tackle snowman construction again.  And he has shown renewed interest; asking about building a “real” snowman: a “big one.”  Unfortunately, we have been experiencing unbearably cold temperatures that have dipped to depths of 30-50 degrees below zero and have forced everyone indoors.  But this weekend, I was ecstatic to see the temperature rise, not just about zero, but above freezing as well!  We had a busy weekend filled with meetings, laundry, family functions, etc., and it wasn’t until earlier this evening that I realized our temperatures are expected to dip back down into the arctic range again by morning.  I heard the forecast as we were on our way to a family dinner, that would likely keep us out until bedtime, and I was disappointed that I hadn’t made the time to take Keilan outside in this short-lived “heat”-wave.  But after mulling it over at dinner, I decided that sometimes, a snowman might just be more important than a bedtime.

“Dad, when we get home, will you take Kai upstairs to bed so that Keilan and I can go outside and build a snowman?” I asked as we approached our street.  Keilan let out a gasp from the backseat, and the rest of the drive was filled with the details of what he would need to wear outside, where the snowman should go, and how he would find perfect sticks for the arms.  It was, once again, an epic ordeal to get us both dressed for our snowy adventure, but this time we were more prepared.  I reminded him that his mittens would get snowy and that his hands would get cold. I assured him that cold is ok and that snow is as well.  He hesitated to venture deep into the snow but gladly gave me directions from the shallow edge.  Once our snowman began to take shape, I helped him plod through the deep snow so that he could assist me in adding the details.  He was giddy to discover two perfect sticks for the arms and he set to work making buttons out of snow.  Our snowman is not the most impressive you will ever see, but you would be hard-pressed to find one that was built with more love.  Before the cold threatened our fun, we returned inside; Keilan victoriously leading the way.  Once he had peeled out of his layers, he ran to the window and sat staring at his creation.

Keilan and Frosty“Dad!  Dad!  Do you see him?!?  Do you see him?!?”  Keilan asked as he bounced on the couch pointing out the window.  Patrick complimented him on his handiwork and then asked if his snowman had a name.  “Frosty!” was the immediate response; as if he had been waiting for months to utter that name…the name of HIS snowman.

Keilan didn’t fight bedtime, though he continued to bounce as we made our way up the stairs and towards his bed. And as I tucked him in, his face beamed with pride…and joy.  We both found joy in our journey tonight; in staying up past bedtime and making a dream come true. Staying up a little past bedtime isn’t about breaking rules, but it’s about MAKING time for the little things that are important: building snowmen and finding joy.

Today joy was in a dream realized. Today, joy was a snowman named Frosty.

Smiling’s My Favorite.

Image

“A cheerful heart is good medicine…” Proverbs 7:22

Did you ever notice how a good laugh goes a long way in brightening your mood?  One day last spring, I was feeling particularly burdened by life, by routine, by the struggle to stay ahead; and the need to run errands with the boys was adding to my feelings of angst. I remember frantically attempting to head out the door for that day’s adventures, and in the process, I knocked over a pile of pans that were stacked by the door (treasures collected at an estate sale earlier in the week).  I was immediately frustrated; and just as I was about to give in to the urge to sit down on the floor and cry, I heard Keilan’s giggle. My frustration waned as his giggle grew into a belly laugh, as he  folded in half gasping for air between giggles, and as he repeatedly exclaimed, “Mom…Go…Boom!”  I scooped up the giggling puddle of boy he had become and carried him out to the car. And as we continued on our way, I found myself laughing along.  I would still have a mess of pans to clean up when we got home and I still had errands to run, but a giggle-fest was just the thing I had needed to refocus my perspective and to challenge me to find joy, to choose joy, over angst.  Proverbs 7:22 reminds us that “A cheerful heart is good medicine.” and on that day, those Keilan giggles were just the medicine I needed.

Ten years ago, on a December night that was dark and cold, a few close friends and I decided to go to a movie.  We were tired and burdened by the daily grind, but we went anyway. The movie was Elf, and we laughed. I am not saying that the movie was magical; but rather, it was well-timed and well-received by our exhausted selves.  The main character, Buddy the elf, gave us many lines to quote to one another throughout the year whenever we needed a good laugh.  “I just like to smile. Smiling’s my favorite,” became a favorite quote of ours. It served as a reminder of a fun time we had shared; and it also served as a challenge, as a reminder, to smile.

Smiling's my favorite!

A year later, the movie was being released on dvd, and we laughed as we remembered how we had enjoyed the movie throughout the year.  Patrick and I decided to buy the movie and to invite our friends over to watch it again on the day it was released.  We gathered a few more friends and a pile of Christmas cookies, and we made time to laugh again.  The movie didn’t disappoint; and neither did the company.  We laughed at the movie, and we laughed at ourselves.  I know it is a silly reason to get together, but we have gathered every year since then to watch the movie, to laugh, and to reconnect as friends.  We quote the movie and we challenge each other to embrace the small things we have to celebrate: “Good news! I saw a dog today…”

I love how Buddy celebrates the small stuff...

I love how Buddy celebrates the small stuff…

Last week, Patrick and I hosted our tenth annual Elf party. Over the years, we have celebrated with new friends and old, and this year we celebrated not just with friends but with our two little boys as well. I enjoy celebrating “the small stuff;” the everyday moments that make the journey better, and that is what the Elf party represents to me. Joy is in laughter, in choosing to smile, in embracing something silly, in good times with friends, and in celebrating the crashing pans of an otherwise serious day.

So today I will choose joy in laughter, I will celebrate the small stuff, and I will embrace a life lived with a cheerful heart.

Kai's First Elf Party :)

Kai’s First Elf Party 🙂

“A cheerful heart is good medicine…” Proverbs 7:22

The Power of Perception

Life with an almost-three year old and a soon-to-be-one year old is exhausting. Life as a first grade teacher can be pretty arduous as well.  However, living life with all these little people has taught me a lot about perspective and has challenged me to remember how frequently I am wrong…and how great being wrong can be.

A few weeks ago, I gave my students a math task, and as they set to work, I reminded them to: “Show your thinking.”  We have been practicing this for weeks: I have modeled how to “show your thinking” through equations, simple math drawings, etc. and my students have had many opportunities to practice these skills as well.  However, my students are still six and seven year olds sitting with white boards in their hands, and the temptation to use this time for “free choice” drawing is often still more than they can bear.

IMG_2211

This particular day, I happened to notice a student drawing a self-portrait on her white board rather than settling in to the task at hand.  I approached her and attempted to redirect her with a simple: “Remember, we are doing our math work now.”  She briefly met my eyes with a somewhat questioning expression and then silently got back to work on her drawing.  I could feel my frustration rise as I tried again: “It isn’t time to be drawing pictures now. We are doing our math work.”  She looked up again, and this time she audibly questioned me: “But teacher; you said to show your thinking?”  I was ready with a standard, “Yes, and we need to be doing that right now. Where is your equation?” but as I opened with a, “Yes…” I caught myself, and quickly fell silent, as I actually took the time to see what she had been drawing on her board.  There on her self-portrait, she had erased the spot where her white board hair had once been, and she was busy writing in just exactly what she was thinking.  While I had been busy reminding her to show her thinking, that’s exactly what she had been trying to do. Granted, she wasn’t using one of the methods we had practiced, but she was, in the most literal way possible, illustrating for me just exactly what her thinking “looked” like.  I managed to acknowledge her thinking, and hopefully validate it too, before giving the whole class a reminder as to what, “Show your thinking,” means in our classroom.

IMG_2213

I’m grateful for moments like that with my students. Sometimes it is good to be reminded of just how wrong I can be; even when I’m certain that I’m “right.”  I think that’s the power of perception: sometimes I take comfort in knowing that my perception of any situation doesn’t tell the whole story.

The year after Patrick and I were married, we both worked long days, and we often didn’t see each other until late at night. After one particularly long December day, we decided that we were going to set aside our exhaustion and decorate a Christmas tree.  Though we didn’t have much money to spend on our decorating endeavor, we were determined as we set out in search of the “perfect” tree. We ended up at the only store still open, and we bought the cheapest tree we could find: a $20 artificial tree from Wal-Mart.  Needless to say, this was no winsome pine; and from the beginning we made fun of our silly, bargain tree.  But as we assembled and decorated our tree, it made our first apartment feel even more like a home as we celebrated our first Christmas together.  When our second Christmas rolled around, we decided that we needed to keep our silly tree another year. But as we decorated; we dreamed about, and planned for, the  grand tree we would one day afford.

Last week, we pulled out that same bargain tree and began decorating it again.  This is the 12th time we have decorated our silly tree, and each year we continue to dream about the day when we can justify purchasing a new one.  This year we laughed extra hard as we traumatized our poor two-year old with this “pretend tree” that we pulled out of its box and began to assemble.  Though he was skeptical at first, as he “helped” us assemble the tree, his appreciation for the tree appeared to grow as his excitement for Christmas swelled.  He sat by the tree with his little brother sharing, in the way that only a two-year old can, about all of the wonders that this tree would soon hold.

Photo Nov 23, 9 28 22 AM

He bounced all over the living room as we placed our star on the top of the tree. I had wanted to buy a new one because I knew the “star on top” was a big deal to his two-year-old heart, but we couldn’t afford one this year and he quickly accepted our old, tacky topper as the perfect star for the top. I gratefully acknowledged that Keilan’s excitement for Christmas allowed him to overlook the flaws of our “tend tree;” even while his dad and I tried to strategically place lights and ornaments to create the illusion of a full, verdurous tree.

Photo Nov 23, 11 08 56 AM

A few days after putting up our tree, I noticed that the giant Christmas tree was lit in front of the shopping mall near our home, and I suggested that we drive by to give Keilan a thrill.  We were not disappointed in our son’s reaction; his giggles and shouting showed his wonder at the brilliance and height of the tree. And as I turned around to catch his expression, I asked, “Isn’t it beautiful?!?”

I, myself, was impressed by the beauty and height of the tree, and I was shocked by his answer: “No, mom. The big, mall tree is not my favorite tree.”

“It’s not?” I asked, while scanning the other tress that twinkled around the tall center tree, “Which tree is your favorite?”

“My beautiful star tree. The tree at Kei’s house.” was his earnest reply. And I, once again, was challenged by the power of perception.  That old tree of ours is no longer just a silly, cheap tree.  Patrick and I were wrong; that tree has great value because it is “ours.”  A few tears caught in my throat as I heard the sweetness of his voice and considered his thoughtful answer.  What a relief that the best we had to offer was the stuff his Christmas dreams were made of; for him, our tree was perfection, and it was his “favorite.”

How often do we hesitate to offer what we have because we assume that it can’t possibly be enough?  And how powerful would it be if we could only keep reminding ourselves of how often our perceptions are “wrong.”  And maybe when a situation feels a bit hopeless or things are starting to feel “off-task,” we need to remember that we are only seeing things with a limited perception: our own. So, today I will find joy in my journey by accepting that very often my perceptions are “wrong” and by choosing to accept the perception of “hope” instead.

“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.” Romans 15:13

“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.” Romans 15:13

“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.” Romans 15:13

 

Diggers, Laryngitis, and Joy

The route that I take to and from work each day has been under construction for months, and each day on the way to and from work, it has caused me delays. At first, I was very tempted to complain about the inconvenience. But each time I have felt the temptation to complain, I have heard my Keilan-boy in the back seat cheering on the “Diggers!” and “Cranes!” and “Work trucks!” and I am challenged to once again find joy in my journey: even when it is under construction.  This morning on our drive to childcare and work, we were able to avoid a messy looking stretch, and while I let out a sigh of relief, Keilan let out a moan of disappointment as we turned away: “Mom, no! Not turn. This way: diggers!” I assured him that there would be more road construction ahead, that delays were still coming; and I laughed to myself as I determined that he was the only one in all of rush hour traffic who would be appeased by such an assurance.

It is the beginning of another school year; and along with a classroom full of rambunctious first graders, I was also gifted with their germs. Though I thought I had built up a decent immunity to elementary-age illness over my career in education, my year away must have weakened my immunities because after only three days with students I came down with a horrible sore throat and headache. I am currently on day 5 of this particular bug, and while I am actually starting to feel a bit better, I have no voice. When I got up this morning, I didn’t think much of it. I assumed that it would get better as the day progressed. However, by the time I dropped the boys off at their childcare provider’s home, I was barely able to tell her about their early morning antics. At school, the decision was made to find me a guest teacher and to send me home. It took a little while to get things settled, but I had my lesson plans pulled together and was handing my class off to another teacher a little before 10:00.

As I left the building, I was feeling irritated that the day was working out the way it had: it is never easy to miss a day of school, and it seems there is a potential for an absence to be particularly detrimental this early in the year. But as I started my drive home, I could picture a certain little two-year old of mine in the backseat cheering on the construction crews, and I decided that I could choose to admire the “diggers and cranes” of an unplanned day “off” instead of getting caught up in the inconveniences and discomfort of laryngitis.

So, today, I am finding joy in laryngitis and road construction.  Maybe laryngitis is God’s way of telling me to slow down and rest for a day; maybe this is a little  scheduled maintenance, some construction that was necessary to the successful completion of my journey.  But in spite of questioning “why” I have laryngitis, I will choose instead to find joy in this time. Rather than simply wish the inconvenience and discomfort away, I will choose to enjoy the rest and to be grateful I can pick my boys up a little bit early today for some extra family time tonight.  Maybe we can even take advantage of the extra time by driving through a little more road construction than we need to on the drive home tonight 😉

This Guy Inspires Joy :)

This Guy Inspires Joy 🙂

Diapers, Dissertations, and Dreams

When I first thought about this blog, I thought about titling it: “Diapers, Dissertations, and Dreams” …because I like alliteration 😉 But also because it captured two of my dreams for this year, two pieces to my current journey: being a mom and being a student. Today is the last day of this school year.  This means it is the last day of my sabbatical leave from my teaching job: the last day of my “rest” from the “usual” to complete my dissertation. This makes today a day of reflection.

When I think about this year, my emotions are overwhelming.  I feel so blessed to have had this opportunity to take a year of “rest.”  I feel entirely frustrated that I was not more productive: my dissertation, my reason for this break, is still a long way from completion. And my principal internships went well, but I still have not met with the licensing board to attain my principal’s license.  However, alongside that frustration, there are also immense feelings of gratitude.  I am so grateful to have had this time with my boys. Though this year did not bring a new degree, it did bring a new, miraculous baby boy into our family. And not only did it bring us a healthy baby boy, this year provided me with time to be at home with Kai in these first few months of his life.

To be perfectly honest, today is a difficult day: reflection often is.  I find myself crying through much of today. I have cried tears of regret over things not finished followed by tears of gratitude for the blessing of things so much better than I could have ever imagined.  There have been tears over things lost and things gained.

I feel regret that not only was I unable to finish my dissertation during this sabbatical leave, I was also rather unsuccessful at improving my house-making skills with the additional time: unfortunately the laundry still isn’t finished and the house is only moderately clean. And at the same time, I feel exhausted; as though keeping up with two boys every day was challenge enough in itself.

However, in the midst of the regrets and exhaustion, there is joy and blessing too. Each time Keilan says something adorable (which is ALL the time), I am flooded with joy at this amazing little guy who God chose to bless our family with. I remember all the good times we have had this year: fingerpainting, reading, snuggling on the couch after nap time, taking trips to Target, sharing sweet lunch conversations, building forts, and knocking down towers; and I am overjoyed to have had this time to enjoy everyday life with this little boy and his brother.

I feel I wouldn’t be honest if I didn’t confess that I also find myself suppressing feelings of dread; knowing that I will soon return to my teaching job full-time and will miss out on some of these precious, everyday moments.  But, with that confession stated, I will actively choose to remember all that I have to be grateful for.  I am, once again, so grateful to have had this extra time with my boys; and I am also so grateful to have an opportunity to return to teaching: a calling I feel honored to answer.

So, today, my journey finds me in a time of reflection. This is the end of my sabbatical year, but it is not the end of my work, nor is it the end of my dreams. My dissertation may not be finished yet, but that doesn’t mean it won’t be eventually. Those diapers? I’m changing oh so many of those…and I’m oh so glad to do it 😉  I’m a mom. I’m a student. I’m an educator. I’m many other things as well, and I’m on a journey.

I have challenged myself to keep this blog as a place to record my search for joy on that journey. Merrian-Webster defines joy as, “The emotion evoked by well-being, success, or good fortune or by the prospect of possessing what one desires.”

I may not yet possess all of my “desires” (i.e. this degree or 8 hours of sleep a night), but if I continue to trust that God’s plans are greater than mine (Proverbs 3:5,6; Jeremiah 29:11) and if I align my desires with His, than I can certainly find hope and joy in the “prospect” of attaining those desires (Psalm 37:4).  And I will move forward from this sabbatical year joyfully: grateful for all of the times of “well-being, success, and good fortune” that I have already experienced and hopeful about the “prospect” of good things to come.

This picture was not posed: one day I watched my little man climb into a tub to read...and his book of choice? The Dissertation Journey :)

This picture was not posed: one day I watched my little man climb into a tub to read…and his book of choice?
The Dissertation Journey
🙂

A healthy dose of laughter

Keilan has a straw hat that he loves to wear around the house. It is far too small. But he must find a certain pride in wearing it because every time I put it away, he pulls it out again. And each time, with a winsome grin, he plops it on his head and shouts a hearty, “Yee Haw!”

Keilan found his hat again today, and after a few whoops and circles run around the living room, he plopped down on the floor next to Logan, our 8 year old poshie (pomeranian & sheltie mix).  Logan has been a good big sister to both our little guys, and she is quite tolerant of their antics; so she simply gave Keilan a glance that was only a touch more than apathetic and looked the other way.

As Logan looked away, I saw something happen. I saw an idea dawn and excitement spread across Keilan’s face. In one swift motion, he lifted the hat from his head and landed it on Logan’s.  Being the patient pooch that she is, she gave him an indignant look; but made no effort to move. Keilan took one look at Logan and began to laugh.  It was a wonderful laugh that came from the pit of his belly, and it rolled out of him until he began to roll on the floor; simply beside himself with this wonderful new joke that he had played.  Although I joined in with his contagious laughter until tears ran down my face, I did eventually rescue Logan, and Keilan was devastated. But only momentarily.

Just as quickly as his first idea had dawned, the second seemed to leap to his mind as well, and he leapt off the floor and over toward his four-month-old brother.  The straw hat landed on Kai’s head, who wobbled as only a four-month-old can, and he grinned up at his big brother.  Keilan met his grin by doubling over with the most genuine of laughter, stemming from the most genuine type of delight.

I think, in that moment, Keilan learned something about telling a joke, about manipulating his world in such a way that it brings laughter and joy.

As I attempted to protect the head of my four month old, without destroying the excitement of my two year old, I became his next victim.  I saw the gleam build in his eyes as he contemplated how this joke had been funny on both the dog and on his brother; and how it would surely be equally hilarious on his mom.  As the hat landed on my head, he landed on the floor; once again, beside himself with the joy of the moment.  What was fabulous about this laugh was that it was not the canned laughter that comes after a terrible joke on late night television: this was the real thing, straight from the pit of a two-year-old’s tummy.

To be honest, much about today was less than awesome.  Both boys had difficulty sleeping last night; which meant I started the day feeling tired. We were without electricity for about 6 hours today; which meant meal prep was difficult, the laundry had to wait, I couldn’t make a pot of coffee, and my phone went uncharged. Patrick worked at both his jobs today so it was just me and my guys from breakfast until bedtime without Dad around to help. This evening was spent with my in-laws, who had power, but are struggling to make it through each day as my mother-in-law creeps closer and closer to the end of her horrific battle with ALS.

Some days are challenging, and today was just one of those days.  Don’t get me wrong; the day had some good points too, but overall, I’d only give this day a 5 on a 10 point scale of awesomeness.

However, as I remember today, I will choose to call to mind that silly straw hat and my baby boy’s full-bodied, belly laugh rather than the not-so-awesome stuff.  Proverbs 17: 22, says that “Laughter does good, like a medicine,” and today I got a healthy dose. The journey isn’t always joyful, but there will always be joy in the journey. And today, that joy was in my little man’s laugh.

I was too busy enjoying the moment to get a recording of that amazing laughter, but I was fast enough to capture a few pics of Kei's handiwork...and hours later, the picture of us wearing his hat still made him double over with laughter :)

I was too busy enjoying the moment to get a recording of that amazing laughter, but I was fast enough to capture a few pics of Kei’s handiwork…and hours later, the picture of us wearing his hat still made him double over with laughter 🙂

This time, joy was at the zoo

Yesterday I had very good, responsible intentions of venturing out with my little men to get groceries.  However, as I buckled Keilan into his carseat, he asked (as he does at least 20 times every day), “Mom, we go to the zoo?” and my responsible resolve began to dissipate.

My indecision grew as I could not think of a reason why we couldn’t go to the zoo other than, “No. We’re going to get groceries.” or “No. Normal people don’t just go on spontaneous zoo outings.”

We live five minutes from a fabulous, free zoo.  I am blessed to be home with my boys this year.  I am blessed to be living life with a two-year old boy who loves the zoo.  Both boys were already buckled into their carseats…

As I weighed the original purpose for our outing against the request of my enthusiastic, young passenger; I headed away from the store and towards the zoo.

Yesterday joy was in “why not.” It was in spontaneity. And it was in my attempt to provide a joyful experience for my little boy.

We were only at the zoo for an hour.  We didn’t see all the exhibits, and we didn’t follow my usual route at the zoo.  As we entered, Keilan excitedly requested to see, “The baff!” (which is Keilan-ese for ‘giraffe’) because, “It’s tall!” and he raised his hand up over his head so I would understand the heights of this favorite animal.  I understood, and we walked past all the other exhibits in search of giraffes.  We left the “baff” to find a “Yuum!” (which rhymes with ‘room’ and is apparently the sound a tiger makes), and we meandered through a few other exhibits; finishing off our outing with the “Fish! Fish!” and “Ah, ah’s” (yes, those are the monkeys).

Yesterday joy was in a spontaneous trip to the zoo.  It was in foregoing the “usual” and even the “responsible” for a special time with my boys.  Getting groceries and napping on schedule would have been nice, but nothing beats holding the hand of a two-year old who can’t stop raving about the heights of a “baff” as he jumps along like an “Ah ah!”  We’ll get groceries later, and there will be joy in that too; but this time, joy was at the zoo.

This time, joy was at the zoo

Today, joy was a nap.

Today, joy was a nap. Kai has been an extremely pleasant, easy-going baby, and he has been sleeping through the night for weeks now: clearly, an over-achieving three month old.  However, for the past week he has decided to switch things up, and he has been getting up multiple times during the night again.  Last night he took a “nap” at 9:00, was up again by 10:00, and didn’t go to bed “for the night” until a little after 11:00.  He was up at 2:30, and again at 4:00.  We all slept from 5:00-7:00, when his brother started to stir, and I woke up with a killer headache.  Factor in a head cold and a snowstorm in April, and this could have been a recipe for disaster.  But it wasn’t.

This morning, after breakfast, I gave both boys a bath, and that’s when it happened: Kai took a nap.  He doesn’t often sleep well during the day, but today he did.  Just when I needed a “break,” I got one.  He slept long enough that I got to do some dishes; spend some overdue one-on-one time with Keilan; enjoy a cup of coffee while cuddling with Keilan & his favorite, Finding Nemo; have a nice, quite lunch (as quiet as lunch with a two-year-old boy can be!); and (thanks to their naps overlapping for almost half an hour) I even got to work out for 27 minutes before he woke up.

I’m still tired, and my sinuses are still declaring mutiny; but today I needed a little reprieve from life-as-usual, and I was given one.  Rather than bemoan my cold or wish I had been able to make my work out an even half hour, I will be grateful for the break I received and take joy in that.  Today, joy was a nap.

Joy was a nap.

Joy: 15¢/bag

When it comes to language, I’m a bit of a nerd.  I appreciate the multiple facets that any given word can have.  Take, for instance, the word “joy.” The first definition of “joy,” as listed by Merriam Webster, encompasses a fairly broad range of emotions and situations: “The emotion evoked by well-being, success, or good fortune or by the prospect of possessing what one desires.”  I am comfortable with finding “joy” in my journey because it is bigger than simply desiring to be happy all the time.  I feel it encompasses feelings broader than happiness: feelings of contentment, pride, excitement, and accomplishment.

However, I also think it is important to look for joy as Merriam Webster’s third definition defines it: “A source or cause of delight.”  Because while finding joy might not always result in feeling happy, I feel we must not overlook sources of delight in our daily journeys either.  For example, last week I found that you can purchase joy at Target for just 15¢/bag.

After Easter this year, I decided to buy a few bags of easter grass when it was 70% off.  I figured that a bag of easter grass would provide me and Keilan with a fun, and inexpensive, activity to do together some afternoon.  After all, what two-year old doesn’t enjoy having something new to explore?  So a few days later I dumped two bags of easter grass and some magnetic letters into a plastic bin and gave it to Keilan. He immediately found this to be a “source of delight.” As he searched through the grass, the look on his face was evidence that he was experiencing joy, as Webster’s student dictionary defines it: a feeling of great pleasure or happiness. And I found great joy in his.

Later, I was struck by the simplicity of that easter grass.  It wasn’t anything terribly special.  It certainly didn’t have a high monetary value. And yet, it was a source of delight. I did not go to the store looking to purchase joy; but when I experienced this simple thing through the eyes of a child, joy was what I found.

It is easy to feel that we would experience greater joy if we had more money, if we had more vacation time, if we could travel to far off places, etc. However, I think the secret to possessing more joy isn’t in gaining things we don’t have but in appreciating the sources of joy that we already possess.  This time I purchased joy for 15¢/bag, but the joy didn’t come from my extravagant purchase.  It came in appreciating something ordinary as something more.

So, as I continue on my quest to find joy in my journey, I might not always be blissful.  However, I can strive to appreciate the things I have. I can stop coveting things I do not possess. I can see things through the wonder-filled eyes of a child. And if I am on the look out for “sources of delight,” in everyday experiences, I might find myself residing in yet another facet of “joy” just a bit more often: experiencing a sweet “state of happiness” as I journey along.

Joy: 15¢/bag