Tag Archives: Small-stuff

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

Smiling’s My Favorite.

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“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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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

 

Celebrating the Small Stuff

I think it is important to celebrate the small stuff in life.  Birthdays, anniversaries, and holidays are all great reasons to celebrate, but they don’t happen everyday, and I think every day calls for celebration.  That being said, some days are easier to celebrate than others.  Yesterday my “small stuff” turned three months old. Our little Kai has been making our family more fabulous for a quarter of a year already: this is reason to celebrate. Yesterday was also my best friend’s thirty-third birthday: this is reason to celebrate. However, even in the midst of great reasons to celebrate, it can still be easy to feel tired and to feel overwhelmed with life.

Yesterday was one of those days when the journey just felt a bit more arduous than joyful.  I am always striving to find joy in the journey, but some days it is easier than others. Yesterday morning the mountain of laundry and dishes seemed overwhelming, finishing my dissertation seemed like an impossible dream; and when my husband wished me a “good day” on his way out the door, I wasn’t really expecting a “good” day to actually materialize. I knew we were going out to celebrate my friend’s birthday at night, but the rest of “life” that we had to get through before then seemed significantly less than joyful. Then, as I cleaned up breakfast and finished the day’s first round of diaper changes, I realized that we were out of infant formula and I would need to make a trip to the grocery store: before Kai’s next feeding.

Most moms of two little boys are probably brave and venture out to the grocery store earlier than the youngest’s three-month mark, but I am not those moms.  I have avoided, up until yesterday, venturing out for groceries “by myself” with my two little boys.  Shopping with one of my little guys is a breeze: two seemed daunting. And I had been lucky enough to avoid this adventure…until now.  So, I packed up the boys, tried to time our outing around Kai’s morning nap, and I told myself that it was time to find joy in this new adventure: today’s “exciting” journey.  The great thing is, when you are determined to find joy, even in the midst of the mundane (or even daunting), it is there.

As I pulled into the parking lot, I prayed for a great parking spot, and I found one: right next to the cart corral, with extra room on each side for removing boys and maneuvering carts.  Today, I found joy in a blessed parking spot.

As I pulled the formula cans off the shelf, I handed them to Keilan, and we counted them together.  I smiled at his two-year old counting skills and his eagerness to help.  Today, I found joy in this “special” time with my little boys.

As we went to check out, the lines were long.  Then, as we finally approached the front of the line, a woman with a not-so-happy toddler in tow frantically asked to budge in front of me to pay for some toothpaste she had left in her cart. I can’t lie: as I let her approach the front of my line, my first instinct was to be annoyed.  After all, I had TWO little boys to keep happy, and she only had one.  But then my impatience departed just as quickly as it had arrived: I became overwhelmingly grateful to have TWO little boys living life with me and to have TWO little boys who were waiting patiently in my cart.  Kai even decided to throw me a winsome grin as if to remind me just how good my spot in line was.  Today, I found joy in letting someone budge in line.

Then, the most blessed gift of all: both boys fell asleep on the way home.  So I determined that since we were all loaded in the car and the boys were napping peacefully, I would just keep driving and we would meet my husband for lunch.  A quick text sent from the driveway confirmed our plans, and I headed out for a drive with my guys.  I swung through the McDonald’s drive-through for a coffee on the way and joyfully arrived at our destination half an hour early.  I parked and sipped my coffee in peace and quiet while the boys napped in the backseat.  I smiled at the brick wall in front of the car because, at that moment, a brick wall had never looked so good.  Sitting there in the warm car with my adorable little men in the backseat and a coffee in my hand felt as luxurious as any vacation I have ever taken.  And as I sat there, I said a prayer of thanks while I celebrated the small stuff: a trip to the grocery store, a chance to meet my husband for lunch, and…a brick wall.

Yesterday, joy wasn’t in simply “surviving” my day with the boys while I waited for the birthday celebration that night.  Joy was in celebrating all the small stuff along the way.  Yesterday, joy was in the journey.

Yes, I do take pictures ALL the time. I think it's important to document the small stuff: like a victorious trip to the grocery store with my cart "full" of boys :)

Yes, I do take pictures ALL the time. I think it is important to document the small stuff: like a victorious trip to the grocery store with my cart “full” of boys 🙂