Can you hear me now??

Sometimes I cringe at the sound of my own voice....I mean it, I really can't stand hearing the words that I speak again and again.

"It's time to brush your teeth and wash your face"
"Finish eating so we can get ready for school"
"Turn off the tv and get your shoes on"
"Get in the car and put your seatbelt on"
"Walk faster or you're going to be late"
"Stop dragging your backpack on the ground"
"Stop squeezing the dog"
"I said, pick the toys up off the floor!"
"If I have to tell you ONE MORE TIME"

As each word flows from my mouth I am reminded of all the times I swore that I would never nag my kids and I would never repeat myself. Oh no, I was going to be the mother whose children listened the first time she said ANYTHING!

So what happened? Why is it that my children don't seem to hear my instructions? Why do I need to raise the volume to "yell" before I see results? Is it just me? Do other mothers find themselves rambling and repeating the same things every day? I wonder if it's a reflection of me as a person or of my mothering skills that my children are incapable of obeying my instructions.

Of course the truth is that many mothers have similar struggles, we just seem to be isolated in our moments of true craziness, because we are alone in our hallway trying to move our children mowards a timely exit. But, more than likely at that very instant there are hundreds of thousands of mothers in other locations hollering to their sleeping children that they "better get out of bed right now if they want breakfast", and probably just down the street a mother is reminding her child to put a clean shirt on and warning him to change his dirty socks before his feet stink permanently.

Just this afternoon, I heard a mother on the playground hollering out for her young son to stop playing and start walking with her to the car. I had to check myself for a minute because I could have sworn that the voice was my own. Although that same scenario plays out almost on a daily basis in that very playground, this time it really was another mother whose child shares the same name as my son.

I guess I'm not the only one after all....

Friends for a Season

I was recently at a girl's night to celebrate the impending marriage of a friend of mine. The bride and have known each other since the 7th grade and although we have not stayed close all these years, I am grateful to still have her in my life. (one of the perks of online communication is the ability to re-discover old friends and keep in touch regardless of the distance or busyness of life)

The evening was full of fun and silliness that Mom's can only get away with when their children are safely tucked in at home with a babysitter. And it was really interesting to me to see the diverse friends that we are at this party, and all with the same desire to wish my friend all the best in her new life and help her enjoy every last minute of her single life before joining us (her married friends) on this side of life as a married woman.

Some of the girls at this get-together have known her much much longer than I have and some are newer friends. Her maid of honour has know her since birth, others since kindergarden, I knew her better in high school, some she has come to know through her fiance or her brother, some were related and others are work mates. My point is that the group was like a cross-section of the friendships built over time in the life of one woman.

It has caused me to think this week about all the friendships that have come and gone in my life. I have no friends from birth, other than family members, likely due to having moved homes and schools so much throughout my childhood. I have renewed a few friendships that I once held dear to my heart in my highschool years, I have so many new and wonderful friends that I am eternally grateful that God has brought into my life. But there are some empty spots, and having spent time with this group of friends last week reminded me that sometimes, people grow apart. Sometimes life gets in the way, jobs and new responsibilites widen the distance between us making it ever difficult to maintain close friendships.

But what is it that causes some friendships to stand the test of time, proximity and status in life? Why do some people come into our lives and become embedded into every corner of our hearts, and others will leave a deep impression but will not remain? Were the friendships that didn't last less meaningful? If we were really so close, how could we not keep the connection?

I have come to the decision that the popular internet anecdote is actually true. Some friends will stay for a lifetime, the friendship will grow and thrive no matter what life throws at us. And some friends will be there for only a season, it is a great friendship that meets both our needs for the time being and will have forever changed who we are at some level. But it is best not to try to force the friendship to continue to mean the same thing to both parties.

I have a friend struggling with letting go of her "friend for a season", she knows that they are not in a place where they can ever be the kind of friends that they used to be. The temptation to push the relationship into the familiar box is very real, but the fact is, that the best way to pay tribute to a good friendship is to let it go when the time comes. It is best in order to avoid hurt feelings, unfulfilled expectations and the loss of all the wonderful memories.

So I think back over my friends, both old and new, and I treasure the memories we've had and feel joy at the blessing they were in my life as long as they were there. Some friends I will touch base with only for the major life events, weddings, births, funerals etc and I can be happy for them in their happiness and allow the strength of a remembered closeness to be enough. While some friends, like the one getting married, I will re-connect with and become closer than ever before (kind of like finding a whole new friend) after we have grown and matured in our individual lives. And some friends I look back fondly on, and know that we had a great time together, know that I am probably a better person for having known them and wish them well in all their relationships.

And I will most definitely being holding my newer friends close, cultivating the relationships in order to maintain them as Lifetime Friends!

The Sibling Perspective

As an only child I find dealing with my two children quite eye opening and sometimes very frustrating. When you are an only child you don't have to compete for Mom and Dad's attention, you don't have to share the toys and when it comes time to pick the cartoons to watch, yours is the only opinion that matters.

So now I have two children ages 6 and 3, and there seems to be a battle over every little detail of every aspect of our family life. Why is that? Why is it that two children can sit in the same room, having agreed on a movie to wacth; each with a chair, each with a snack, each with a drink and somehow, when Mommy leaves the room it sounds like 2 cats have been thrown in a bathtub!

I understand that there are personality differences, and differing communication styles. I realize that they can get on each others nerves, I mean they often get on MY nerves, but what is it about siblings that keeps them from letting things roll off their backs or simply walking away?

And why do they NEED to make that specific face, or use that inflammatory adjective designed to elicit the biggest reaction? Why the perverse pleasure in pushing their siblings buttons on a daily basis?

And yet as I hear myself ask these questions in the midst of a brother/sister throw down, I am reminded that grown ups often have the same problem in relationships. We often have emotional buttons that specific people push in specific situations, comments that seem innocuous to the untrained ear, but send us quickly into an emotional meltdown or at least into battle mode.

My husband (a middle child of three) is much better at letting things "roll off his back", ironically his name means "duck" in spanish, perhaps that is why the annoyances and difficulties of relationships don't seem to penetrate his thick shell. In any case, he is forever telling me to let things go or not to get so upset by small offenses, whether real or perceived.

I often wish that I could put his suggestions into practice and somehow become impervious to the button pushing of the more difficult people and situations that I inevitably face on a daily basis. Although I am often unsuccessful, I make a real effort to teach that character trait to my children, as it is an invaluable lesson for them to learn for life and certainly for a peaceful existence with each other.

Unfortunately until I can cultivate that kind of tolerance and self control in my children I have to stop writing to go mediate the screaming match about who's turn it is to pick the movie and settle the dispute over whether they watched 12 Dancing Princesses or Transformers the last time. Or maybe, instead of deciding who's right or wrong, I could just convince them to compromise and watch Kung Fu Panda...then I win!

...Joy Comes in the Morning..

Franz Schubert once said, "No one feels another's grief, no one understands another's joy. People imagine they can reach one another. In reality they only pass each other by". As this thought is cynical on the surface, one's inclination is to completely dismiss his opinion as uncaring and innaccurate; however, I think it has more truth than most people would like to believe.

I recently lost my Mother sudddenly and have been on this ridiculous journey referred to as the "grieving process" which of course is unpredictable and unique to each person. There are several people in my life who have been a tremendous comfort to me during this difficult time; some for the closeness of our relationships, some for their own experience with personal loss and some for the education or training that has enabled them to help me at through my various emotional states.

My best friend also lost her mother several years ago and having been through that with her as her friend I have learned to trust her judgement and take her advice on coping, dealing, ignoring and managing. I trust her, both because I know that she loves me and also because she has been there. Not exactly the same place as I am because each loss is felt differently by every person, but she has come through the terrible experience of losing the woman who gave her life and she speaks from a place of understanding. And yet, there are things that my closest friend cannot feel for me, or rationalize for me. There are dynamics to my loss that no one can interpret or walk me through, burdens that no one in my life can carry for me.

My mind turns to friends that I have endeavoured to "help" through their difficult times, some who have lost a beautiful small child, or a sibling, some who have suffered the pain of misscarraige as I have and some who are experiencing problems in their personal lives and relationships. There is this desire to tell people that we understand their pain, we know what they are feeling and can tell them what to do to "get through it" unscathed.

The truth is, we don't know. We can never know. All we can do is stand by one another and walk with them as they cross the tumultuous river and help them dry off on the other side. I am grateful for those in my life who have been my voice when I couldn't express my needs, for those who have held me up when I couldn't ask for support. I am thankful that God has seen fit to use their experiences, although often difficult, to make them stronger...strong enough to help me.

The truth is Schubert was accurate in half of his statement, people cannot truly feel another's grief, but true friends...Heaven-sent friends will not simply pass us by. Rather they will stop, hold our hand and continue the journey with us, if for no other reason than because we just might need a shoulder to cry on or someone to be there when the cloud of grief passes and the joy sets in again. Because as God promises in Psalm 30:5 "...Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning."

"Too Much Stuff"

So we’ve just finished with the Christmas season and that means that it’s now that special time of year…the time for purging! In our house, every year we receive new toys, books, gifts, clothes etc. and that means we can throw out or give away some of the things that have been accumulating for the last year in our closets, cupboards and drawers.

Although I am a bit of a pack-rat and am organizationally challenged, I have married a very orderly man who has a knack for shelf-building and loves to throw things out. So he has spent the last 2 weeks cleaning out the closets, building more shelves into them and purging all the things we no longer need or want to make room for our new items. Our home takes on a general cleaner, neater feeling, and I am grateful for his special skill in this area.

Inevitably this time of year stimulates discussion regarding how many toys the children have and whether or not we are spoiling them with too much “stuff”. The truth is they probably have too much stuff and they are more blessed than many, many children around the world. That is why we try to teach them the virtues of gratitude and thankfulness and take measures to instil in them the value of hard work and saving their money for things that they would like.

I have never understood the concept of giving children an “allowance”, what are we allowing them to do? How does giving them money each week just for being our children teach them anything about life in the real world? I also don’t believe that children should be paid to do all manner of chores and jobs around the house. I think that living together under one roof and being a productive part of the family involves participating (willingly) in things like, setting the dinner table and clearing the dishes, picking up toys and books, keeping their rooms neat and tidy, helping to carry in the groceries etc. In our family my son has been learning that we all share the responsibility to keep our home neat and to help us out where needed to achieve that, it’s about teamwork and loving each other by helping whether the task pertains to us personally or not.

On the other hand, there is a specific list containing tasks for which he is paid a small sum of money each week if he consistently completes the jobs without complaining or the need for Mom’s coercion. Things like picking up after the dog, feeding and walking the dog, handling the recycling chore etc… these are jobs that my son completes and in return is paid $5.00 a week. His paycheque is the money he has earned for doing a pre-determined list of jobs. We hope that he will learn the value of hard work, and also learn that by setting and reaching a goal he can earn the money he wants to buy his own wish list. The lesson being that the harder he works the easier it is to reach his financial goals, and hopefully he will learn that he should not take anything he has for granted.

The world we live in now is so focussed on material things and driven by consumerism that it can be difficult to raise grounded humble children in spite of the incredible affluence around us. But I believe it is vitally important for the next generation to build a good work ethic and not grow up with a sense of entitlement or greed.

Loving our Children Equally

“But Daddy, you should love me more because I was born first!” The logic of a six year old who was trying to cajole his father into choosing to give him more treats than his little sister. But still I heard the words and it got me thinking…do we really love our children equally? What are the criteria we feel in our hearts for loving other people? Of course we love all of our children and the correct thing to say is that we love them all the same amount, but parents are humans too and we are inevitably affected by the actions and behaviour of others.

When we have some children who are easy going and play quietly without disruption and others who are so desperately in need of our undivided attention; one child who will obey without question and one who must challenge every instruction and buck every rule, how can we genuinely feel the same level of love in our less than perfect hearts?

The truth is it’s not the same, but it is just as deep, because there’s something wonderful about the way we are designed to love others. We have been created with the capacity to forget the events of a particularly bad day and love our offspring all the more deeply for having worked so hard to care for them. Sometimes the very people that put us to the test on a daily basis create such intense emotion within us.

Think of a meal, we can buy a pizza and a bag of salad, serve it on paper plates with cans of pop and it will hit the spot with no complaint from our families. However, what about spending some time in the kitchen, preparing the meat, peeling potatoes, rolling the bread dough, sautéing fresh veggies, and baking a lovely cheesecake from scratch? After spending so much time and energy in the kitchen lovingly preparing a wonderful meal, don’t we enjoy it that much more? Similarly when we take the time to personally design the look of our home, search out every individual piece of furniture and decorative piece, coordinate the colour palette and renovate room by room according to our budget; what a wonderfully fulfilling achievement to stand back and enjoy the fruits of our labour. It’s just not as gratifying to hire a decorator to get it done in a week.

I believe it’s the same with our children, if they were too easy and low maintenance, we just might take them for granted, not really appreciate them for the complex and unique creatures that they are. Each individual child has the ability to drive us crazy in their own special way and yet there are those moments when they unexpectedly crawl up into our lap to cuddle and we forget everything wrong they’ve ever done. And when that little voice cries out in the night “Mommy I need you, I feel sick” we don’t even remember their temper tantrums or cheeky back talk, we would wade through an alligator-ridden swamp just to hold them close.

When You Ask Me

When you ask me “How are you?”
Do you really want to know?
Can I really answer “Not that good, I’m feeling kind of low”?

When you say “How are you coping?”
Do you have the time to hear?
Is it ok to say “Not that well, and shed a quiet tear”?

When you ask me “Do you miss her”?
How can I answer that?
Is it ok to simply say “I wish I had her back”?

When you ask me “What can I do?”
Do you really mean it?
What if I say “I need a friend to just come and sit”?

When you ask me “How is your family?”
What can I say to answer?
The truth is there’s a great big hole, no one can replace her.

When you ask me “Will you make it?”
My response is “Sure, I will”
“God is my source of strength and He is with me still.”

It Takes a Village

It has been said that “It takes a village to raise a child”, I was thinking about this on my way to the dedication/baptism of a friends 2 month old baby girl. I considered the role that we play in the lives of children other than our own. How difficult it is to raise children in this world and how important it is to have people close to us who not only love our children but also stand along side us when we make the tough decisions and help us when things go wrong. That same weekend our godson turned one year old and I was remembering his dedication ceremony when we stood alongside his parents and promised to help them raise him to fear the Lord and be a constant presence in his life.

Our children have a wonderful godmother, who although she has no children of her own, has loved mine since they were born and promised to take them and raise them in the event that anything should happen to my husband and me. What a tremendous relief to know that our children will be cared for after we are gone. Every parent worries that they will die before their little one’s are old enough to manage alone, who will watch over them at the park? Make sure that they have healthy eating habits? Help them with their homework? Teach them about dating and saving for their first car? What if we don’t have enough time to help them grow into confident adults? Will they have successful relationships and find the right career?

The truth is, we have no control of how long we will be with our children, we therefore have to make use of the time we have. Spend time with them and pour our experience and knowledge into them in order to give them all the information they might need to make those decisions later in life. It is also very important to surround our children with good adult role models to help pick up where we leave off. If it does in fact take a village to raise our children, we need to ensure that they have access to lots of reliable help. That means, friends, family, church, neighbours whoever is in your life that love your children and desire the best for them. It’s the only way to ensure that they are well cared for later on.

Underwear As Outerwear

Droopy pants, bra straps, messy layers, ripped jeans, shades of black, cheeky slogans, light up shoes, mismatched retro, underwear worn as outerwear…

There’s something unique about every generations choice of clothing style. As I search through the racks for a suitable pair of pants for my 6 year old, he emphatically reminds me that they must be “cool clothes”… nothing “uncool” will be accepted.
So what exactly does “cool” look like? How will I know? What is the difference between 6 year old cool and 30+ year old cool?

I distinctly remember explaining to my Mother why I needed a large package of safety pins to pin my pant legs from ankle to knee, or shopping for the perfect panty hose to wear under my cut off jean shorts. I cringe when I think of the army boots I bought from the surplus store to wear with black tights and a short skirt. I’m sure it seems odd to the youth of today, but I promise you, there was a time when that defined “cool”.

So why do children cave to the pressure? Do they really think that it looks good, or do they just want to fit in with their peers as the sociologists would tell us? And when will a generation come along that chooses a style less ridiculous than their parents generation? Will we ever look to our youth and see the logic of their style choices? Or is that part of aging, the loss of all fashion sense?

Well I’m not sure but I can tell you, I will never be caught walking down the street with my underwear on the outside of my outfit…call me crazy!

When Mom Gets Sick

In the life of a mother there just never seems to be enough hours in the day for all the responsibilities associated with the title “Mom”. How could 24 hours be enough time for groceries, banking, entertaining the children, homework, supervising chores, tidying the house, meals, dishes, bath time, night-time, laundry…the list is endless!

Somehow, we manage not only to do all those things for our families, but if we’re lucky we find the time for ourselves. And then the unthinkable happens…Mom gets sick!

Although most people rest when they are sick, it is more difficult for Moms. There is no resting when you are a mother. Although Dad and Grandma will lend a hand, there’s just no substitute. The house often doesn’t run properly if Mom isn’t at the helm.

So as I sit here on my sofa on week 2 of my bout with pneumonia, contemplating what to make for dinner and why there’s so much laundry to do, I realize that something has to give. My long “to-do” list will not get done today. I only have so much energy so I have no choice but to prioritize my day. What absolutely MUST get done, what SHOULD get done, and what jobs can I leave until tomorrow or later in the week?
So, the childen will get lunch, I will read books with my son for homework and I will snuggle with my daughter before naptime because the laundry can wait until tomorrow.

Getting Back to Nature

This past summer, my husband and I took our children camping in an attempt to spend an adventurous, exciting 3 days getting back to nature, enjoying the beautiful beach and making s’mores on a campfire; while at the same time, teaching our children to appreciate the simple beauty of creation. Well, that was the plan.

As I lay in the tent listening to the rain pouring down around me wondering if the tent fly would indeed keep the water off our pillows, I couldn’t help making a mental list of all the things we were supposed to be doing on our fun family weekend. I wasn’t supposed to be drying clothes by the fire or stringing tarps up in the trees to keep the children dry. What about the nature walks and swimming at the beach? What about the sunny stroll through the tourist traps eating funnel cake with ice cream? What a miserable failure this vacation had turned out to be!

But as I listened to my 2 year old squeal with delight to the loud droplets of rain on the makeshift shelter and watched my son searching for worms to put in his bug basket for further examination, I realized that this is exactly what people mean when they say they want to “get back to nature”.

After all, this is what we wanted right? To get away from the high-tech hustle and bustle of everyday, to sit and do nothing, nowhere to go, nothing to do but warm our camping chairs, drink a cup of coffee and take in the harmonious sounds of nature all around us.
With our electronic-video game-online shopping-drive thru-paper cup-lifestyle; I realized that I’d almost missed the opportunity to watch trees sway as they buffered the rain above us causing the heavy downpour to fall lightly all around us. I’d been so busy complaining about a small furry friend stealing our hotdog buns in the night that I had almost missed the magical brush with wildlife which was so exciting to my 5 year old son as he followed clues to which animal might have left the muddy paw prints on our picnic table.

Canada has so much to offer in the way of simple elegance and raw beauty that if we just take some time away from executing the perfectly planned high-tech outdoor vacation, that actually insulates us from the outdoors; and take a few moments to appreciate the earth in all her rainy, muddy, bug-filled, creature crawly splendor, we’ll find the true beauty of the world around us.

So I have a suggestion for the next time you decide to “get back to nature”, leave the laptop and mp3 player at home, pack the bare essentials and find a nice conservation area to pitch a tent for a couple of days. Park yourself in the middle of a forest or beside a waterfall and spend some time doing nothing but breathing in the essence of nature and carefully allowing yourself to become a part of all it’s beauty. You won’t regret the time you spend with your family exploring the earth and all that it has to offer. Just don’t forget to pick up your trash and safely put out the campfire before you leave, because there’s a generation to come who will want to follow in your footsteps.

Grade One

It strikes me as I am wading through the piles of brightly coloured lunch boxes and backpacks of various shapes and sizes, looking for the perfect back-to-school paraphernalia; that before I know it, my firstborn will be heading off into the world. He will leave for grade one with little thought to his teary-eyed mother, who will no doubt spend the entire day wallowing in the fading memories of every milestone he has surpassed thus far in his short yet energetic life.

Which new phase has troubled me the most? It's hard to say, maybe when he gave up nursing or didn't need any help holding the bottle of milk. Perhaps it was the day he started crawling and crossed the room and quickly ripped all the leaves off my tropical plant was the hardest. Then there was his first day of nursery school when he only cried for a few minutes and then quickly adapted to the sights and sounds of the daycare environment.

It's hard to say which milestone was the most difficult for Mommy, although I distinctly remember the pain of putting away his tiny running shoes and crib and buying sippy cups and a convertible carseat. Has it been 6 years since I counted his fingers and toes in the delivery room? How did the minutes turn into weeks and years without my noticing? How will I make it through the next 12 years before he goes to college? Am I the only one who feels like the next decade is a runaway train and I'm barely hanging on? Does anyone else burst into tears while viewing phone commercials involving college students leaving home?

So between 8:30am and 3:00pm between Monday to Friday I will be a mother of one again...wondering if he's ok; are the other kids being nice to him? Is he eating his lunch? Is he having fun? Does he miss staying home with Mommy? Has he learned any bad words today? Is the teacher compassionate, does she understand his quirky nature? Will he learn to love reading? Have we done a good job preparing him for this time in his life? What have we forgotten to teach him? Will he be forever damaged because he can read a book but can't really tell time proficiently?

I realize that I am over-reacting, and surely I'm not the first mother to see grade one as the beginning of the end. My rational side says there are a million more milestones on the horizon that will be equally exciting and emotional for us both. The school age years will blend into the teeny-bopper phase and then the tumultuous teens, which I'm told is more painful and rewarding than any valley I have passed through thus far.

And so I reach up and pluck a Batman lunch box off the shelf and put it into a Spiderman backpack and head to the grocery section for a box of fruit-by-the-foot, because after all...he's only six and it's only grade one.

Mother's Day

This past Mother’s Day, after the day at an amusement park, my husband and two small children took me out for dinner to celebrate. Despite my exhausted and longing for home, we went to a nearby restaurant to have a “real family meal”, as I try to never discourage thoughtful gestures.

After asking for a booth as far away from the other diners as possible “just in case” the children were loud, as children aged 2 and 5 tend to be, we settled in and began to examine the menu. Normally we try to pick food that can be eaten quickly and will taste good when re-heated in the event that we need to cut the evening short and get the children home. This time, we thought the children would be calm and accommodating since we had just spent a fortune on season’s passes and I had sacrificed my Mother’s Day to do something geared to the children. As is common with children, the depth of my “sacrifice” went unnoticed and the children did what children do and I quickly remembered why we usually go to a restaurant with a playground. Simply stated, chaos ensued.

Somewhere between picking my daughters socks up off the floor and reminding my son for the 10th time that he can’t eat his dinner underneath the table, I noticed an older couple at the table beside us. Normally I try to avoid eye contact when my children are being difficult because you never know if people are looking at you with pity or understanding because they empathize with the plight of a mother with small children in public. In any case this time I looked and what I saw surprised me greatly, the older gentleman had a huge smile on his face and the lady holding his hand across the table had tears in her eyes as she too smiled at the scene unfolding at our table.

Now it is not uncommon for tears to be present in this situation, but they are usually mine, so it was very interesting to me that a total stranger was staring, as my children took turns throwing forks at each other and touching the head of the man seated in the adjoining booth. I smiled and shrugged at the woman hoping that she would not judge me based on the behaviour of two children hopped up on sugar awake past their bedtime. She leaned over to me then and said the most surprising thing, she said “this is the best time of your life as a mother; enjoy them now while you can, even when they frustrate you, I wish I could go back!”

To be fair I have heard many a mother of grown children tell me that they wish they had enjoyed their kids more when they were small, but something in the face of this older mother struck me and inspired me to listen further to her sage advice. Maybe it was the tears, maybe it was the way her husband lovingly clutched her hand in a sort of honouring way, I’m not sure but I knew she was worth listening to and so I did.

She went on to say that her children were all grown up and they had children of their own now, and she advised them the same, to enjoy the craziness and the difficult behaviour of their young treasures. This woman had received that advice a long time ago and had tried her best to do so the entire time they were raising their children, holding tightly to those cherished memories now that the nest was empty and memories are vital.
As our meal arrived, I thanked the woman for her encouraging words, pulled my two year old down from the windowsill, reminded my son that feet do not go on the table and quietly contemplated my outlook on being a Mom. Was I really enjoying my children? Did I spend too much energy stressing about the little things and nagging them about age-appropriate childish behaviour? When I am older and my children have families of their own, will I have memories that bring me to tears of joy or tears of regret at wasted moments and opportunities lost?

Since that day I have come to understand that the couple looked on my family with longing and tears born of happy memories. They could see us struggling and imparted to us the most wonderfully encouraging reminder, life is short and our children are ours only for a brief time period and then they will move on as is the normal way of life. This is the time that we need to cherish and make an effort to enjoy whether things are going as we had planned or not.

So I will cheerfully clean the sidewalk chalk off the television, wash the peanut butter out of the cat’s fur and rescue family photos from the guinea pigs cage, because I know that one day when my husband and I are sitting alone on Mother’s Day, those memories will be the most important part of our meal.