Tag Archives: toddlers

Each Day is an Adventure

14 years ago, on the weekend after Thanksgiving,  Patrick took me on a romantic stroll through downtown St. Paul, “To see the Christmas lights.” We had a wonderful time walking through the wintery wonderland that is Rice Park in November, we sat and admired the towering Christmas tree and marveled at the gorgeous Landmark Center, and we ended our evening under the twinkling lights of the Riverfront Park.

And then he proposed.

And I said, “Yes.”

Last night, after a particularly hectic outing to Target with two toddlers in tow, the boys warmed our frazzled hearts with their very audible admiration of each set of Christmas lights that we passed along the way. The lights that adorned homes, yards, and businesses brought cheers and applause from the backseat as we journeyed home.

And then, rather than head home, we drove downtown as a family.  We admired those same lights that Patrick and I had admired 14 years ago this weekend, and the boys marveled at the, “Biggest Christmas tree in the entire world.”

Photo Nov 27, 8 24 44 PM

The “Biggest Christmas Tree in the Entire World.” ❤

We all enjoyed the beauty of the drive, and a “tricky” family outing turned into a sweet memory.

And, just as I am every day, I was so grateful and glad that 14 years ago, Patrick proposed; and I said, “Yes.”

Not everyday feels like a romantic stroll through a wintery wonderland, but each day is an adventure.

And I’m grateful to have someone by my side who helps me look for joy in this journey of ours; even in “ordinary” times. Someone who reminds me, when I become overwhelmed by the anxieties of life, to trust God with all my heart and to not rely on my own understandings (Proverbs 3:5,6). Someone who has learned alongside me that our best-laid plans are often usurped by God’s plans–and that His plans are better than our own. Someone who views our home as a place that we have been blessed with; a place that we should in turn use to bless others whenever we can. And someone who extends grace to me time and time again; inspiring me to extend grace to others as well.

Thanksgiving is a time to remember all you have to be thankful for. Today I’m grateful for a husband who journeys with me, looking for joy, “In good times and the bad.”

May this season also inspire you to be thankful, to extend grace, and to find joy in your journey. ❤

But the greatest of these…

Kai is my snuggle bug. He is quick with a hug, a squeeze, a kiss on the cheek. So when I put him to bed tonight, I offered to snuggle next to him for a few minutes. He has a number of blankets and “fluffy toys” that he gets “cozy” with each night. But tonight, after a few minutes with his cozy friends, he emerged from him nest and climbed up on top of me: enveloping me in a 2-year-old sized bear hug, a snuggle, and a mumbled, “Love you so much.”

My heart. ❤️

He laid there for a few minutes with his head on my chest; his arms and legs wrapped around me. And just as I was about to transfer him back to his nest, he picked up his head and whispered, “Momma, you’re the best girl ever,” before nuzzling back in and kissing my neck.

As he burrowed back into his cozy little nest of blankets and “fluffy” friends, I thought my heart might burst. And I found myself trying to mentally “capture” the moment. I thought about all the ways my boys bring joy to my journey: to our everyday adventures. And then I was reminded of 1 Corinthians 13:13 “And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.” And, please don’t fault me for over simplifying the significance of this passage, but in that moment I felt the greatness of love.

Love

One of my little man’s go-to phrases these days has been, “But, Momma, I just need…YOU!”

And love brings joy to the journey. I know this because a few months ago, my littlest man WOULDN’T GO TO SLEEP. I was nearly ready to cry from exhaustion and frustration, and so I determined I would put on my pajamas, brush my teeth, and stick him in bed next to me. However, Kai, had no intentions of letting me out of his sight. As he followed me into the bathroom, I felt my frustration rise. But then my frustration melted away as I heard his plea: “Momma, I watch you brush your teeth?” and saw those sweet little eyes looking up at me. How can frustration win in the face of such adoration: such love? So instead of going to bed cranky, I went to bed feeling love; finding joy in my journey again.

Being a parent is exhausting. Most of the time, I’m pretty sure being a human is exhausting. 😉 But I believe that holding on to love, and leaning on the One who gives us the gift of perfect love, helps us to find joy in our journey again: even if we are searching through blurry, sleep-deprived eyes.

Laundry Mountains and Joy in the Journey

Photo Apr 12, 12 02 36 PM

Mount Laundry

Somedays I feel like I am engaged in a never-ending battle with laundry. As I looked at my kitchen table this morning, covered with piles upon piles of clothing; I may or may not have silently compared it to an insurmountable mountain.

Don’t misunderstand: I was grateful that my family has ample clothing to wear and that I was looking at clean laundry instead of piles of dirty. And folding laundry always makes my heart swell with gratitude, pride, and love for the little people and loving husband that fill the very clothes I am engaged in battle with. However, most days I have a hard time appreciating those seemingly-infinite piles.

My guys have been sick this week and sleep has been rare, but this morning I found myself up early enjoying the quiet; stacking mound upon mound of laundry.  Once the boys were up, I abandoned the piles and got busy with cuddles, juice cups, and breakfast.  I shooed them away from the table once or twice in fear that my piles might come tumbling down, but toddlers are persistent to a fault and they found their way back there when I was was not looking.  And then, just as they so often do, they challenged my perspective. They might not appreciate the fact that I do laundry so that they have clean clothes to wear, but today they appreciated my insurmountable mountain.  Except where I saw a battle, they saw adventure: an opportunity to explore.

“Look, Kai!  Look at the city…” I heard Keilan whisper in an awe-filled voice.

“Wow.” Kai murmured in response.

Photo Apr 12, 9 02 11 AM

Looked like a pile of pajamas to me, but my guys saw it as a breathtaking skyscraper. ❤

And then they stood for a number of mesmerized moments admiring those beautiful towers and the “roads” between them.

“Kai! Whoa! Look at THAT tower!”

“Keilan! Look!  Look at that path!”

I still shooed them away before any of those towers came tumbling down, but I did it with a smile and with a newfound joy in today’s journey.

Love those boys.

Love how they challenge my perspective.

Love how they help me appreciate the journey even when I get caught up in the challenges and doldrums.  And I love how they help me find joy in this journey of life and love that we’re on.

 

"LOOK! Kai, look at the city!"

Confession: these laundry piles lasted on the table for more than just an hour or two. But we didn’t let our laundry mountain get in the way of our lunch. These boys LOVED their picnic amidst the laundry city 😉

Joy in Exhaustion

I have two toddlers. I teach kindergarten. Being a mother and a teacher represent things about myself that I am immensely proud to call mine.  They represent challenges and accomplishments. They represent stress, sleep loss, and joy.

Just this morning, I was thinking about how I had not posted anything here in a long time. I had also briefly reflected on why: was I unable to find joy in my journey or just unable to find the time or energy to document it?  I think the honest answer is that both might be true.  My life is not without joy; however, there is also worry, dirty laundry, frustration, potty training, and exhaustion that sometimes derail me from finding (and documenting) joy in my everyday adventures.

So, that was what I was thinking about this morning. And along with those reflections, I may have said a quick prayer, silently vowing to “find” some joy today.  Then the day got rolling: the living room needed vacuuming, arguing brothers needed mediating, lunch needed making, and pretty soon the boys needed to wind down for nap-time.  Though Keilan is out-growing naps, his almost-four-year-old self still benefits from a little quiet rest-time each day.  I brought the boys upstairs, but they were not in the mood for rest–and I was not in the mood for convincing them to be. So I went downstairs, hoping that they would magically fall asleep.  Instead, Patrick volunteered to go upstairs and rest with them while I ate my lunch.  I enjoyed a few peaceful moments by myself, and then I decided that I should go check on the boys.

Caught!

Caught!

When I cracked open the bedroom door, I saw Kai asleep in his crib and Patrick sound asleep in Keilan’s bed; while Keilan played with his toys beside him.  Though I might have been just a little bit irritated at Patrick’s “help,” I had to stifle a smile.  After all, he is just as exhausted as I am, and Keilan’s “I just got caught face” was too adorable.  So I decided that rather than fight about nap-time or tell Patrick to wake up, I whispered for Keilan to join me downstairs.  I told him that he didn’t need to worry about nap-time but that he still needed to rest. I told him that I wanted to rest too so I was going to put on a movie and we were going to rest together.  Much to my surprise, my little man who is growing bigger and more independent each day, curled up next to me on the couch, and pretty soon he was sound asleep laying on my chest.  And there it was: joy.  Joy in precious snuggly moments: joy in being his mom. Joy that I would have missed if I had been cranky about nap-time not going the way I had planned.  And the best part? I was totally and completely trapped under my sleeping toddler. I couldn’t move without waking him up: I was unable to change loads of laundry, work on lesson plans for school, pick up the toy room, or do the lunch dishes.  There was my answer to prayer: I had “found” the joy I was looking for and the exhaustion that so easily derails it had been addressed too. I was “forced” to take a nap; under the weight of a sweet, sleepy toddler.

I can’t promise that my posts will be more frequent because of this incident; but there was reason to celebrate joy in my journey today.  And today joy was found in a moment that might not have happened if everything had gone according to my schedule; so it was also a reminder to enjoy the journey: to find joy, even in the unplanned adventures of each day.

Joyful Snuggles

Perfect

I did not get much sleep last night…or the night before.  Keilan’s sleep patterns have been true to his three-year-old-self lately.  Often he is up for HOURS wanting nothing more than to bounce and play and read and sing and…. And in the few short moments where he rests quietly, inevitably, something like his brother’s cold symptoms will keep us awake. A few months ago, one particular night, Keilan was up NUMEROUS (a term used to describe a number that is at once large and also ambiguous due to exhaustion and frustration) times screaming and crying: “It hurts! It hurts! Mom, help me!!!”  After NUMEROUS attempts to console him, I came to the conclusion that there was really nothing I could do to “help,” and Keilan was entirely unable or unwilling to tell me what the “it” was that was hurting him.  But the most absurd thing happened the following morning as I was reflecting on the sleep I had (or had not had) the previous night: the most ridiculous word came to mind.  In my mind I qualified the sleep as short, disjointed, insufficient…and perfect.

If a sleepless night with unhappy boys does not sound perfect to you, I understand. I blame my three-year-old for causing the word “perfect” to come to my mind.  He has an incredible ability to see the perfection in the imperfect around us each day.

We recently stayed with a friend of ours who had moved into a rental property while looking for a more permanent place.  While staying at his home, he listed off all of the reasons he was hesitant to stick with this property; all of the things that he would choose differently in his next home.  Also, being new to this home, his furniture was sparse, and so I had my messy, little boys sit on the floor in the kitchen when it was time for them to eat.  Uncle Adam, as my boys call him, is kind and compassionate; but I still didn’t want to risk a mess on his carpeted dining room floor.  A large cardboard box served nicely as a table, and the boys were thoroughly impressed with their mealtime set-up.  Keilan found this to be the best thing that had ever happened, and one morning, around bites of blueberry muffin, he informed me: “Uncle Adam has a perfect house.”  And so it was.  It was filled with friends and family and fun…and it was perfect.  Maybe the split-level set-up was a little unusual, maybe the space was larger than necessary, maybe the empty walls were looming, but it was the location of our little-boy-approved breakfast picnic and it was “perfect.”

Often Keilan reminds us of all the perfection around us. After a recent trip out of town, Keilan sat out on our deck admiring the way the wood in the deck was a little “squishy” and the particular way the paint on the side of the house was peeling.  “Mom. Our house is perfect.  It is builded. And it is perfect.”  Keilan, in his insightful way, declared our imperfect home “perfect” in all its imperfections simply because it existed, it was “builded,” and it was ours. And though it is easy for me to see all the things our house is lacking; when I glimpse through his three-year-old lens, focused in on the family that fills our home, I can see its perfection as well.

If you are feeling overcome with feelings of discontent, I dare you to spend a day with my little man.  When traveling in the car with him, he will declare each hill you come to as, “The biggest hill EVER!” And he will accept the blueberry donut you hand him with the most winsome grin and declare: “That’s the special one ever.” (In those exact, grammatically incorrect words that speak of his youth and sweet sincerity.)  And I know, from experience, that you will grin from ear to ear and your heart will be full when he announces from the backseat of the van: “Mommy, you know what favorite letter I love? The letter ‘G’!!! That’s the perfect one for me!”

The word “perfect” can mean many things. One of Webster’s definitions of the word reads: “As good as it is possible to be.” And while I am pretty sure that there are things I would change about my current, sleepless nights; I have also come to appreciate another definition: “Highly suitable for someone or something; exactly right.”  I have come to accept this definition of perfection because that same little boy who has kept me awake so many nights, has also taught me about looking past annoyance and declaring perfection.

Don’t get me wrong.  I am exhausted.  I would REALLY, REALLY, REALLY appreciate a good night’s sleep; and maybe a few hours “away” from my little guys to rest and recoup my energy.  But as I reflect on the annoyances of being kept awake night after night, I am overcome by the love I have for my little boys, by the great privilege it is to be the one that they call for in the middle of the night, and by the possibility that even my sleep-deprived, caffeine-induced existence just might be “perfect.”

I will choose to find joy in this sleepless part of my journey as I embrace the belief that these boys, this time of life, and the challenges that they bring are “exactly right” for me. After all, as much as I may think I know what is “perfect” for me, I have found time and again that God’s plans are greater than mine. And when I trust in Him to lead me, I am reassured by the words of Jeremiah 29:11, “’For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’”

Image

No, they don’t share a bed. But this photo still somehow captures how my three-year-old feels about sleep…

A Collection of Joy

My husband has always mocked me for being a collector.  It’s true. I collect things.  And, I’ll admit, some of my collections do nothing for my “cool” factor.  For instance, not many people respect a clown collection.  And even though most people had a rock collection at some point in their lives, I’ll admit that mine may have been one of the few where each rock was labeled with his/her own name….

Since childhood, my collections have changed.  I have less things laying around, but I am obsessed with collecting  less tangible things; such as memories.  While the memories themselves are intangible, I am also a big fan of collecting ways to make them more concrete; more tangible.  The number of pictures that I have taken of my children, for instance, is just a tad bit embarrassing.  But when I look back at the things I have done over the years, I have never regretted taking too many pictures.  And there have been a few times, where I have regretted not taking enough.

I started this blog as a place to collect moments of joy…so that I could return to them when I needed a reminder of  all the joy I have found in my journey; and to challenge myself to keep collecting moments of joy rather than passing them by in the self-centered oblivion that we all fall victim to from time to time.

One of my greatest sources of joy is my children.  My boys are a constant source of sleep-deprivation, challenge, exhaustion, worry, and PURE JOY.  But even before my boys were born, I had hundreds of children go through my classroom over the years who also brought me joy.  And then there is my little brother; who has been a great source of joy to me and my family from the moment he was born.  Children are wonderful.

Children are challenging and exhausting; and wonderful.  They are FULL of honesty and insight, and as an elementary school teacher, I can assure you that little goes unnoticed by a child.  Children know MUCH about what goes on at their homes, and they aren’t afraid to share what they know.  Just this year, I had a first grader tell me that I could call his mom on her cell phone because: “She never goes to work.  She just shops all day and spends my dad’s money.”

I’m serious.  You can’t make this stuff up.

Earlier this week, I pulled a student aside to have a conversation about a situation that had happened earlier in the day.  While I will spare you the details, I will share that when asked what had happened, his opening statement was: “Well, I was over by Daisy because she didn’t think I was a werewolf.  See? I was showing Daisy my werewolf moves.  You know, because I’m a real werewolf…”

Again.  I’m serious.  You can’t make this stuff up.

As I suppressed my giggles, and summoned all my teacher-strength to maintain a straight face; I thought about the joy his ridiculous proclamation brought me. And I realized that it was time for me to be a better steward of these amazing moments of joy that have been given to me.  This blog is perfect for reflection about my quest for finding joy in my journey, but I need a place to capture those daily one-liners that the children in my life so freely give.

So the next time I find joy in something my three-year-old says or in a ridiculous statement that a first grader of mine declares, I am going to collect them carefully in a new place: in my kid-speak treasury.  You are welcome to read, to laugh, to enjoy, to share…and you can let me know if there is a great kid-speak moment that needs to be remembered there that hasn’t been already.  Kid’s say funny things.  But they also say insightful things that will challenge your perspectives and will challenge you to be a better you.  So this is a place where I can collect those kid-speak moments and allow myself  to be challenged by the honesty and insight that they bring.

My brother and Keilan...just two of the "kids" that make my life sweet!

My brother and Keilan… two of the amazing “kids” that make my life sweet!

Finding Joy in Having Someone to Disagree With

My brother-in-law recently got engaged to a woman whom he has been  in a relationship with for two years.  The “trick” to their relationship is that they have only been in each other’s presence for a grand total of three weeks over the course of those two years, as she has been living on the other side of the world; limiting conversations to email, phone, and Skype.  Just over a week ago, we were able to be at the airport for her much anticipated arrival: welcoming her into the country and into our family.

This week, we were able to share in a special dinner with my brother-in-law and new sister-in-law, and it was a wonderful time.  My boys are already very much in approval of this new aunt who is not only sweet and loving but also comes baring toy cars and candy.  As we cleaned up after dinner, my brother-in-law told me I could put one of the dishes in the kitchen; which I did.  However, my sister-in-law had a different plan. As soon as I entered the kitchen with the dish, she picked it up and carried it right back into the living room.  With a smile and a wink, I teased my brother-in-law: “You were wrong.”  He assured me that he has been wrong “a lot” in the last two weeks since her arrival, and that he didn’t mind it one bit.  “In fact,” he said with a smile, “I kinda like it.”

I am glad for the joy that my brother-in-law has found in his new wife, and I also find his joy to be profound.  How often do we find joy in being wrong?  Yes, they are newlyweds.  There will come a time when it will be less enjoyable to be wrong. But how wonderful it is when you value someone else’s presence so much that even disagreeing with them is made wonderful by the sole fact that they are there to disagree with.

My two-year old has recently begun saying “Thank you.”  I have been anxiously awaiting the addition of this phrase into his vocabulary, and I have celebrated each time he offers an adorable, “Sanks, Momma!” or “Tank Ew!”  Earlier this week, I asked Keilan to put his diaper in the garbage, and with his sweetest voice and most winsome grin, he offered a cheerful, “Ummm, no sanks!” Before bouncing away.  Catching me off guard, I needed a moment to form my response, and before I was able to say anything, he bounced right back, picked it up, and threw it away.  That time, I had no need for frustration, as he ultimately did what I had asked.  However, I was reminded of how I could find joy, even in defiance, when I looked at that adorable face.

I know a number of moms right now who are forced to be without their babies for one reason or another, and I get to live life with mine. I am blessed.  There are so many who would give anything to hear a defiant, little, “No sanks!” And just as my brother-in-law is experiencing the joys of “being wrong” with his new wife, I can choose to find joy even in those moments when my two-year old is refusing to join us for dinner and my two-month old is joining in with his own wails of complaint.  It might be loud, I might be “wrong,” but there are still so many reasons to find joy.

Keilan in Corner

My little man: even when he is melting down, he still melts my heart.