babyhood / family / MOTHERHOOD

Things to discuss later

This weekend we had family in town visiting. In particular my two cousins and their little boys. Let’s just say, my girls are pretty much baby crazy. We spent most of the weekend running a timer, making sure everyone had equal time holding and loving up on my cousin’s baby. When there were tears this weekend, it was because someone wasn’t giving someone else enough time with the baby. (Side note: I find the whole notion of “fairness” to be one of the most difficult parenting issues to wade through some times.)

Anyway, there was some serious withdrawal when the girls woke up Monday morning and it was just boring old me to hang out with. 

In the meantime, there are lots of good things going on in the background. Little by little we are settling in to Woodlwan. We’ve reached that dangerous point where we’re functioning just fine each day, despite the boxes, bags and “things I don’t know what to do with yet” languishing in closets, corners and that office/studio room that I’ll someday put to use. But I’m trying to force myself to open one more box, or find a home for one more pile every day. It’s slow going, but we’re getting there. 

Totally unrrelated, and worth a post of it’s own, I’ve been working on writing out a personal “mission” statement. It’s one of those things I’ve heard of people doing and thought, hmmm that’s a good idea. But I’ve never made time for it. Ever. A few nights ago, in a moment of inspiration, I sat down with my moleskine and started to write. Listen, people. The process was amazing. Writing down what I value? Putting my big picture priorities down on paper? It has been SO GOOD for me! Have you ever done it? But okay, I’m going to save it for another day, when it’s not pushing eleven o’clock at night and my book and bed are calling for me. 

I’ve got a little barn project to share with all of you soon. Hopefully, tomorrow! 

This weekend we had family in town visiting. In particular my two cousins and their little boys. Let’s just say, my girls are pretty much baby crazy. We spent most of the weekend running a timer, making sure everyone had equal time holding and loving up on my cousin’s baby. When there were tears this weekend, it was because someone wasn’t giving someone else enough time with the baby. (Side note: I find the whole notion of “fairness” to be one of the most difficult parenting issues to wade through some times.)

Anyway, there was some serious withdrawal when the girls woke up this morning and it was just boring old me to hang out with. 

In the meantime, there are lots of good things going on in the background. Little by little we are settling in to Woodlwan. We’ve reached that dangerous point where we’re functioning just fine each day, despite the boxes, bags and “things I don’t know what to do with yet” languishing in closets, corners and that office/studio room that I’ll someday put to use. But I’m trying to force myself to open one more box, or find a home for one more pile every day. It’s slow going, but we’re getting there. 

Totally unrrelated, and worth a post of it’s own, I’ve been working on writing out a personal “mission” statement. It’s one of those things I’ve heard of people doing and thought, hmmm that’s a good idea. But I’ve never made time for it. Ever. A few nights ago, in a moment of inspiration, I sat down with my moleskine and started to write. Listen, people. The process was amazing. Writing down what I value? Putting my big picture priorities down on paper? It has been SO GOOD for me! Have you ever done it? But, I’m going to save it for another day, when it’s not pushing eleven o’clock at night and my book and bed are calling for me. 

I’ve got a little barn project to share with all of you soon. Hopefully, tomorrow! 

out and about

New York City

Early Wednesday morning I jumped on a train to New York City. I went for a BabyCenter conference and to do a little work face-to-face with my editors in their offices there. Whether it’s three days or three weeks, leaving home requires all sorts of juggling, scheduling and planning. 

In one sense, I love the occasional push to get out of the house, out of my routine, being forced to give myself a little attention–yeah, those ratty sneakers you wear every day probably need to be replaced with something a little cuter, and you might need a little something splashier than those pearl earrings, and woah, you really need a haircut. 

For the very few times a year when I do travel, Dan holds down the fort. But this trip happened to hit in the middle of his busy season, on the exact week that almost every farmer in the area begins spring planting. That means taking three days off is pretty much out of the question. So, I juggled care for the girls during the day. It took some finagling, but thank goodness for family and a wonderful nanny that helped me out. 

Before I left, I taped schedules and reminders and food lists on the fridge–who does which chores, who needs to be reminded to give water to animals, who needs to clean out the baby chicks’ pen in the boot room, who should feed the finches. And of course, my traditional daily checklist of kisses and hugs for the girls to cross out each day. 

Just two hours into my trip and I already had a text–someone busted their lip, someone had a tick stuck to their leg. But everyone was still alive. 

Early Wednesday morning I jumped on a train to New York City. I went for a BabyCenter conference and to do a little work face-to-face with my editors in their offices there. Whether it’s three days or three weeks, leaving home requires all sorts of juggling, scheduling and planning. 

In one sense, I love the occasional push to get out of the house, out of my routine, being forced to give myself a little attention–yeah, those ratty sneakers you wear every day probably need to be replaced with something a little cuter, and you might need a little something splashier than those pearl earrings, and woah, you really need a haircut. 

For the very few times a year when I do travel, Dan holds down the fort. But this trip happened to hit in the middle of his busy season, on the exact week that almost every farmer in the area begins spring planting. That means taking three days off is pretty much out of the question. So, I juggled care for the girls during the day. It took some finagling, but thank goodness for family and a wonderful nanny that helped me out. 

Before I left, I taped schedules and reminders and food lists on the fridge–who does which chores, who needs to be reminded to give water to animals, who needs to clean out the baby chicks’ pen in the boot room, who should feed the finches. And of course, my traditional daily checklist of kisses and hugs for the girls to cross out each day. 

Just two hours into my trip and I already had a text–someone busted their lip, someone had a tick stuck to their leg. But everyone was still alive. 

I have to laugh at my life sometimes. Here I am sitting in the Times Warner building, New York’s Central Park outside my window listening to oodles of research and reports on the 21st Century Mom. I look down at my phone and there’s an email from the North American Southdown Sheep Breeder’s Association, reminding me of an upcoming show and sale. I get a text from Emma about the girls riding the pony around the barn, chasing each other bikes. I step outside and we hail a taxi to BabyCenter’s offices in midtown. 

Even though I love stepping into a different life and surroundings for a few days, home is where my heart is. I love dipping my toes in the city waters, but they are much more comfortable in a pair of barn boots and an apron. 

It’s good to be home. 

Wishing you all a week of peace, comfort and joy, especially in light of last week’s events. Hug the ones you love, people. 

More soon…

children and nature / MOTHERHOOD / out and about

Today I said yes.

 

Summer-like temperatures have my kids raiding the attic for last year’s too-small, too-short summer dresses and tank tops. They wilt in the heat they’ve been wanting-for all winter. They come in the kitchen melting with “hotness”.I remind them that maybe they’re sweaty and red-faced because they’ve been racing bikes up and down the dusty lane.

For the past two days I’ve been turning down their pleas to go down to the stream. I’ve got to-do lists a mile long, boxes to unpack, laundry to put away, monogrammed towels to sort, there’s no time for wading in streams.

 

Summer-like temperatures have my kids raiding the attic for last year’s too-small, too-short summer dresses and tank tops. They wilt in the heat they’ve been wanting-for all winter. They come in the kitchen melting with “hotness”. I remind them that maybe they’re sweaty and red-faced because they’ve been racing bikes up and down the dusty lane.

For the past two days I’ve been turning down their pleas to go down to the stream. I’ve got to-do lists a mile long, boxes to unpack, laundry to put away, monogrammed towels to sort, there’s no time for wading in streams.

But this morning, I read this and was immediately struck by the barrage of no’s I’d been handing out the past several days, weeks even.

As exhausted a cliche as it is, it’s a pretty safe bet that they’d remember the day we dropped everything and went to the stream, not the day I finally got everyone’s socks paired and put away in their drawers. What’s one more day with mismatched socks?

So I said yes.

Still, you’d think in my 11 years of parenting experience I’d know better, but as bodies and slobbering dog were piling out of the car, I heard myself say, “We’re not getting wet, just wade up to your shorts!”

And less than five minutes later I heard myself say, “Okay, you can go ahead and get all the way in.”

When I called up the stream that it was time to go, I heard some lovely child say, “C’mon. We need to listen or we won’t be able to do this again.” And in that moment I was reminded that saying yes doesn’t always mean relenting, giving in, or a weakness in my mothering fortitude.

Mostly it’s about wading through all there is to do in each day and finding a happy balance in that middle ground.

And P.S. I still got the socks sorted. Bonus.