Little Pink Houses/Ain't that America

 On we drove on this crazy field trip we have been on. It was not a long drive, and the kids managed a snooze through an entire state. Perhaps it helped that that state was Connecticut and is pretty much only a blink wide. But they still slept. I had to force them to wake up to wave at New York as we drove by.

We almost wished for another couple of days on the road so that we could have stopped to explore that city too. Almost.

And then we drove on to the city of brotherly love. Good old filthy-delphia. To start the next chapter. The one in which we see lots of houses where important people lived and worked.

We've trekked from place to place checking out all these houses.

From Benjamin Franklin.

 To the current presidential administration.

 To George Washington.

 To Thomas Jefferson.

To James Monroe.

To James Madison.

To the homes and cities of friends scattered here and there around these historical locations and all the fascinating conversations that have been a part of those too-brief visits.

There have been stops at museums and other historical buildings along the way, too, but the thing that has really stuck out for me. And I think for all of us. Is the fact that these people. These people who had brilliant ideas. Revolutionary ideas. Who did great things.

Had flaws.

Big ones.

For some, almost unforgivable ones.

Yet...

Despite their flaws. Despite the parts of their lives, the aspects of their world views, the bits of their stories that are unpleasant. Or that I disagree with. Or that shock me. Or that I find flat-out horrifying...

In the midst of all that.

Were ideas and actions and moments that changed the world for the better. And the ugly parts don't change the good that was done.

It can change my view of the men...and it certainly reminds me why it is dangerous to idealize, to idolize these real, these flawed, individuals.

But it also changes my view of my own place in the world. And that of those around me. Despite my (our) many flaws, ugly bits, inconsistencies in world view, there can be so much change, so much good done.

We don't have to be perfect or to have it all together in order to see something in the world that needs to change and speak out for that with boldness and revolutionary ideas.

Thank goodness.

Loving My Thing 1

How can "pig headed" be a good character trait, Mommy?

You asked me that question a while back after a discussion about how God can use all the the aspects of our personalities to glorify him, how even the parts of ourselves that seem bad can have a positive flip side. I'm afraid that lately you've been hearing words like "stubborn," "bossy," "mouthy," and "argumentative" roll off my tongue a little too often.

I want to assure you, son, that every character trait has both a positive and a negative. I pray that I can help you find those positives for the labels that we have put on you. I am sorry for the times you hear yourself described in words that paint you in a bad way.

You are resolute, steadfast, and loyal. You are determined. You set your mind to something and are confident in your decision and not easily swayed. I know that one day these characteristics will be useful for you as you stand up against injustice in the world or have to defend your decisions and beliefs against those who disagree. I will look back on all those times you refused to back down on your opinion, and I will smile, knowing that God was preparing you.

You have leadership potential and goals. You are the first born in our family, if only by 5 minutes. You are the biggest and the tallest, if only by 3 pounds and 1 inch. You recognize a certain responsibility that goes along with that role, and you are eager to take up the mantle. You make me so proud when I hear you talk about your dream of running your own zoo one day, and that you know you may well have to start out shoveling elephant poop to get there. You are willing to start at the bottom in order to reach your dream. Never give up.

You are the perfect balance of fun-loving and cautious. You know what you like and will not be persuaded by peer pressure to do something you are uncomfortable with. I hope and pray that you continue to develop in this way. That you can still enjoy yourself and have fun, but are confident enough that you hold to the boundaries you have drawn for yourself. No matter how much pressure you may have received, you stuck to your guns that you were not ready to ride the Iron Dragon this year. I applaud you, N. That takes strength.

www.jillheupel.com

You love cuddling. And coziness. And all things soft and warm. I am sorry for the times I have hurt your feelings by wanting a little space and not being in the mood for snuggles. One day you may stop asking, and I will miss those moments tremendously. This is a soft side of you that I love and want to nurture more.

Your most prized possession is your Yellow, whom you have slept with since your infancy. When I asked you why he is so special to you, your response was that he is old and it's important to take care of old things. That took my breath away, boy. May you always cherish the old things. Learn from the histories of people. Find the beauty and value in the ancient.

 You surprised me this summer by wanting to learn to fish. You like the quiet of it. The sport of catching. The observation of the creatures. And you were content to sit there and hold that pole until we could figure out a way to release that darn fish without killing it. You held your breath while we removed the hooks to make sure that each little bluegill was not going to suffocate. It was neat to watch you experience this new thing, and I look forward to standing by your side as you grow and learn how to be a man.

Your heart for the animal kingdom is so big. You love the cuddly and the ferocious, the playful and the lazy, and you see the beauty in creatures that most of us find scary or gross. You find something wonderful in each of them. And it brings me such joy to hear you talk about them. You teach me new things every day. I wish that we all could see the beauty in bats and scorpions the way you do.

You are a fun-loving Wild Thing. You add silly to my life. Your smile and your laugh are some of the best things. Thank you for being uniquely you. I love you, you stubborn, cuddly, animal-loving, crazy boy.

www.jilllheupel.com

When it's hard...

Friends, you know I like to keep it real. And I'm going to be honest with you here. I'm sure this is going to come as a real shock to you all. 

Being a mom is hard.

I mean it. It's really hard.

The day in, day out of the job of raising small humans. The never-ending piles of dishes and laundry. The non-stopness of it all. 

And that's not even the crisis times. That's the normal. Some days, it's enough to drive a person to the edge.

And there really is no way out. As a mom, you have to put on your big girl pants and deal with it. Because, well, after all, you are responsible. It's kind of your job. Some people have to stock shelves or work in an office. You, mom, you have to clean the pee off the floor, explain to the short ones for the bazillionth time why it is NOT okay to eat boogers, and manage to convince them all to eat enough real food to actually nourish their growing bodies.

There are certainly perks to the job. Kisses and hugs and macaroni art are great fringe benefits. Bedtime stories and snuggles and belly laughs are pretty good, too.

But, if I'm honest, there are times when I'm just not feeling it. 

It's not that I don't love my boys. I do. Absolutely. I'd jump in front of a train for them...me and Bruno Mars.

But...there are times when I don't really like my boys. Times that I feel disconnected from one or all of them. Days, weeks, when I just don't understand them. When I don't really want to sit down and hang out with them any more than I absolutely have to. When I feel frustrated and irritated by them more than I enjoy them.

Those times, when I just don't...those times are hard. Harder than the normal hard. Dark.

Maybe I'm on my own here. Perhaps I'm really the only one who ever goes through this kind of phase. I'm going to go out on a limb here, though, and guess that I'm not. I'm going to guess that we all have times when we are struggling to connect with, to enjoy, one or all of our children.

I think this is one of those things that, as moms, we just aren't really allowed to talk about. I think we feel shame. We feel guilt. We feel inadequate. We feel...alone.

As moms, we are supposed to think our kids are amazing! All the time! We can't wait to spend more time with them! They are our best buds in the WHOLE! WIDE! WORLD! And if we don't have that kind of relationship with them, well, what kind of mother are we? If your experience is anything like mine, you're reminded of this at least once a week when some (probably well-meaning) woman approaches you and reminds you that "they grow up too fast," that "one day you'll miss this," or that "the days are long but the years are short." Thank you, lady, for that mountain of manure guilt you just piled on top of my already difficult day. Thank you, ma'am, for making me feel like an even worse mother because I was currently not savoring every moment as my child disobeyed me for the umpteenth time today.

I'm here to say that we are fine. We are normal. I am fine. I am normal.

But I also need to be proactive.

I need to work on my attitude in these darker moments of parenting.

It's so easy for me, when I am frustrated with a person, to focus my attention on all the negative parts of his* personality. Every little thing becomes an annoyance. Even things that would otherwise be endearing grate on my nerves. I could so easily compose a funny little blog post about each kid (or the hubs) and his idiosyncrasies, playing it off as "cute" or "funny." Saying how much I "love" the little bugger. All the while, though, my heart would be ugly. I would be focusing on the negativity, the irritation. Not on the lovely. Not where my attention should be focused.

"Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable -- if anything is excellent or praiseworthy -- think about such things." Philippians 4:8

So, here I am in the midst of one of those ugly times, finding it so hard to enjoy my boys. Struggling to savor the moments. And I'm challenged to change my heart attitude. I am not going to passively wait for it to pass, as I know it will.

I am challenging myself to celebrate my boys. Each one of them.

So over the next few days or weeks or months (let's be realistic here), I am going to write a post about each of the Wild Things. With nothing but the lovely, the noble, excellent, and praiseworthy about him. Because everyone deserves to be celebrated now and again. 

It's important to put it specifically into words. And it's important for them to know that they are being praised publicly. Because, let's face it, there are plenty of times they are shamed in the middle of the grocery store for the whole world to hear.

So you'll have to bear with me as I brag on my children for the next few posts.

My hope is that I can encourage you if you have struggled with this at times, too. You are not alone. It doesn't make you a bad mom. 

And, even in the midst of the darkness, you can find lovely things to actively celebrate in each of your children. 

Maybe you'll even join me in writing some public celebrations of who your kiddos are.

Mine are pretty cute.

*Grammar Nerd Alert! I am using the word "his" very purposefully here and for multiple reasons. One, I have no problem with the masculine singular being used in a gender-neutral sense, despite the fact that it is going out of fashion. I'm just old school, I guess, and lots of other languages have the same thing going on. Two, most of the folks I focus my negative energy on just happen to be boys: 1 grown up one and 3 small fries. Outside of that small circle, I'm not so mean.

Thankful

My current view isn't too terrible. The cat is cute and cuddly. I like the photo on the wall. The shelves are piled with some books I'll be reading shortly.

 And best of all, I don't have to see this:

Yeah.

This was actually the "cutest" of a few pics, according to my darling (and honest) hubby. So. I'm looking and feeling pretty fantastic right now.

Thank you, oral surgery.

I don't remember the recovery process being so miserable after the 1st two wisdom teeth came out 20+ years ago. But then, it was 20+ years ago. I was still 20-. And I didn't have 3 munchkins who don't seem to understand when mommy needs a sick day.

I am incredibly thankful, though.

The surgery had no complications, despite all the forms they made me sign.

My dad drove 7 1/2 hours each direction in order to be the "responsible adult" who sat in the waiting room for 2 hours during the procedure and then hang out with the kids while I attempted to sleep off more of the anesthesia. And he went to the grocery store for me. Twice.

The hubs took an entire afternoon as an admin day and worked from home so that the Wild Things wouldn't also have to sit in a waiting room for two hours. He cooked dinner and even brought me breakfast in bed. And he is bringing me a doughnut after work today.

Maybe I've been pampered. Let's look at that picture again.

Do I look very pampered? Despite all that's been done for me, I don't really feel pampered. I've felt drunk and slightly nauseous for the past 24 hours, actually. I guess the drugs are working?

I'm thankful, too, that we were actually able to get in a half day of school. I just put out a stack of the stuff that didn't require much talking on my part and told them to get it done in whatever order tickled their fancy.

I may have bribed them with video games when they were finished.

Whatever.

Don't judge.

Or judge.

I'm just thankful they are playing nicely together and are not fighting over the title of King of the Wild Things.

What are you thankful for today?