31 Days of "Things I have Learned from my Children..." I am Loved

Today is my birthday

I got to spend the day drinking coffee, reading, shopping and getting my hair cut.

After a greeting of cards...

and I am LOVED by the loves of  my life!

31 Days of "Things I have Learned from my Children..." True Beauty

This post is a rewrite from one I wrote a year and a half ago. (here)

Running in the way only a three year old can, catapulting himself through the air, he landed on the lap of his dear great-grandmother. We were up visiting for just a short trip.

It is always dear to me to see him with my grandma. He is named after my grandpa, who passed away just a month before my first little girl was born. And he is another David that has a strong affection for my grandma. One time, he forgot to say goodnight to her, so he ran downstairs and quickly hugged and kissed her goodnight. Another time, he realized she did not have a drink, so he ran to the cooler and found her a Mountain Dew. She had not asked for a drink, but he had just noticed she did not have one and decided to get the Mountain Dew for her.

He is always so happy to see her, and shows it in the way a three year old boy does - which usually involves a lot of activity. So this run with a leap through the air made me nervous, but he settled himself on her lap. He started to examine her  hands, tracing the lines and turning them over.

"They are old hands," she said, sounding a bit embarrassed.

He kept looking at them tracing and turning for another minute or two, and then he looked at me with big eyes and said, "MOM! Did you see them? They are BEAUTIFUL!"

They are beautiful, beautiful because she had lived, raising six children, two of whom were adopted, caring for grandchildren and loving great grandchildren. She has a Master's degree in education and was a school teacher for years. Those beautiful hands used for years to hold little children, comb little hair, and make meals for all those she cared for. Those hands were used to knit sweaters and hats. Hands used to hold littler hands while praying. And hands used to hold books and read to children. I have memories of sitting on the porch of her house picking green beans and popping the beans out. And memories of picking apples in their small apple orchard that then turned into applesauce and apple pie. And hands, her beautiful hands, now held this little three year old

She has lived a LIFE and her hands showed that, and that is what makes True Beauty.

This post is linked up to Titus 2 Tuesdays...

31 Days of "Things I have Learned from my Children.." I will never love you too much

The chubby arms of my two year old are wrapped tight around my neck, little gasps of air, hot tears on her cheeks, and she whispers, "I just want you mommy; I love you."


"I love you too, baby, and I want you too." I whisper it back in her little ear.

Swaying gently, prayers are prayed, another song sung. Her little body gets heavier as she settles into my arms. The gasps for air become a little less frequent. Knowing she is loved so much, she can rest. For now, she sleeps.


And just for a moment, nothing else matters but this little girl. And words spoken at some place and time come again into my mind: "They will never say you loved them too much."

I could never love them too much.

In their grown up conversations about all the things their mom did wrong - yelled too much, did not listen enough or was too busy - the one thing they could not say, was that their mom loved them too much. Because it is not possible to love a child too much. Not in the spoiled, give-them-everything-they-want way, because that is not love, but in the I-know-my-mom-will-ALWAYS-be-there-when-I-need-her way.

And I pray that she will know I always love her...

Even when we fight over bed time;

When she scratches her brother, fighting for her words to be heard over all the noise of her siblings;

And she sits in time out, screaming.

I LOVE HER.

I will always love her...

When she wakes up with a crazy head of hair and her first thought is to hide and ask, "Who can find me?!";

When she laughs so hard, covers her mouth, and falls down;

When she finishes our game, and I ask, "Whatcha doin'?"
She answers, "Eatin' chocolate."
"Where'd you get it?"
"From dad." She says.
"Where's dad?"
She laughs, "Eatin' chocolate."
And we laugh 'til our sides hurt because when you are two and loved, there is not much else better.

I love her when she pretends to be hurt and then, when we all go to take care of her, she yells, "GOTCHA!" at the top of her lungs and again falls over laughing.

I love her when she kisses her siblings over and over with messy two year old kisses, "I WUV YOU SO MUCH!"

And I won't mess this up because I can't be wrong if I love her too much.

31 Days of "Things I Learned from my Children" They will do as they see Done

I have been writing about 31 Days of "Things I Have Learned from my Children" and I recently wrote a post here about how running makes me a better mom.  Today the word for Five Minute Fridays over at Lisa Jo Baker's is "Race" This brings up an entirely different reason I run. So for five minutes here are my thoughts on "race."

Start

I started late at the whole racing thing, I was thirty when I ran my first race. It was a 25k, just over 15 miles of running. I had not been a runner my whole life, in fact I could hardly able to make it half of a mile without falling over gasping for air. But as an adult, I decided to start running, to try. I ran a block. I would get up every morning and run one block, then two then three, finally up to three miles. I got stuck there, at three miles. I ran three miles every day for years. UNTIL one day I met someone who said she would train with me for a race. And so we ran together. And I learned the benefit of friends and running. I learned how misery DOES sometimes love company and the joy of setting a goal and reaching it. When race day came, I was all nerves and excitement. We ran the entire race together, and at the end I was exhausted and thankful to be finished.There was nothing remarkable about the way I raced, it was very average. But then I found my family. And my three beautiful children and husband were PROUD of me. I had finished a race.

Days later the girls were playing a game of pretend. One would cheer as the other came around the corner RUNNING her own race. And I realized how significantly even these things I do, for myself are impacting the little minds of my children. That every day I have an opportunity to set an example, to build in them something good. And, they will do as they see done.

STOP

31 Days of "Things I have Learned from my Children..." What a Mother Needs to Know.

Some people are born to be moms, like my 7 year old, who, when she was just 9 months old crawled to a wash cloth and then her baby doll and started gently wiping her face. Some are more like my boy who, when giving his baby doll a bath, decided to use the spit and shine method.  However much we love and want these blessings, we are completely unprepared for all that lies ahead. They do not teach this stuff in school, and I have yet to see a Little House on the Prairie episode that shows baby Carrie screaming for an hour about not going "sleepy"

We read books about sleep habits and foods to feed our children. We do research for how to deal with a "strong willed" child and get them on a schedule. And we learn some, bits and pieces that work with some children and not with others.

But somewhere along the way, we learn all the things that make a mom a mom. And these are the little things, not the cooking, cleaning, changing of diapers, which are so important, but also the little things that make a child know they are loved by their MOM.

Moms know...

That kisses can heal just about any booboo.

When a child falls off a bike based on the scream to follow, and from that whether it is a serious injury or not.

How to respond when awoken by a child with a cup of ice stuck on her face, to not panic or laugh at the moment; laughter may come later, but this is a time to just fix.

When tears are flowing over heartache, of friends missed and fear of not having new friends, to put down her own lifelong fears of rejection and make new friends.

That there are fights worth fighting and some to let go. And the ones worth fighting, she fights for and hard because they are fights for this child's heart.

Dreaming with children and encouraging them in who God has made them is one of the greatest gifts she can give.

That they will always fall short and make mistakes, but...

They are who God chose to raise these children, so they will face each day with courage (and coffee) and do their best.

31 Days of "Things I have Learned from my Children..." I will never be ALL that they need, but I am enough.

I will never be ALL that they need, but I am enough.

I can try to fix it all, to make it better, to protect them from every heartache and suffering in life. And I very well might try, but I will fail, because I am not ALL.

I have written earlier here about my little girl coming to me in tears about not knowing what to say to make friends. I was overwhelmed with her honesty and heart. And I was angry at the world for not just wanting to be her friend. I did not have all the words, I had my words which I could not speak because they were not helpful or uplifting, but I held my tongue, and I held my girl and we talked a little about what would be good to say, it was far from all she needed to hear, but it was enough.

Cries in the dark, a nightmare that disturbs the precious sleep, and all I can do is hold him, rock him and pray for peace. I can not fix it ALL, but I can hold tight until it is over, enough.

"I met a girl today who has a friend whose parents are not Christians." "I think that would be really hard, to be a Christian and not have parents who are Christians."

Words spoken in passing, as I am tucking in blankets and children ready for bed. This moment seems profound. A moment where she may have realized the blessing of parents who love the Lord, and compassion, a heart that aches for a girl who does not. But what do I say, nothing. I am inadequate to explain it to her. How very right she is that must be hard, and how blessed she is to have parents who do BELIEVE. Instead, I hug her and tell her I love her. The words I have are not all she needs, but they are enough.

Tears flow for things missed, for people missed, for life missed, grieving a life that has changed. I understand the grief, I have it too. And maybe that is why I do not have all the words they need to hear to make it all okay. I only have some words. Words of understanding and encouragement, but words that are not ALL they need, just words that are enough. Enough to know that they are heard and loved, but that I can not make it all right.

And I think it is good, I think the enough is ENOUGH. Because if I was all, they would not have need for a Father in Heaven who is ALL they need. A Father who loves them and loves a heart that is thankful. A Father in Heaven who grieves with a child whom He loves, and heals a heart that is broken because HE is ALL they need. My enough is so inadequate, but it leaves room for  the Lord's complete, the Lord's ALL.

Psalm `16:5 "Lord, you alone are my portion and my cup; you make my lot secure.

This post is submitted to Walk with Him Wednesdays at A Holy Experience

31 Days of "Things I have Learned from my children." Running makes me a better mom

My ears sting from the cold and my hands are a bit numb. My feet in rhythm, striking the ground as the world is flying by and I am doing something, moving forward.  So far from the normal rest of my day which involves cleaning, cooking, changing diapers, REPEAT and no forward motion ever seems to be made, just a circle that I get back to, to start again. Most of the world is asleep, but I am awake, alive, my mind clearing for all the to do's that lie ahead. But for now, I am free. I am running.

And running, I have learned makes me better. I am a better mom (and wife) because I run. It may be that I could be better with some other sport or activity. In fact, I am pretty sure it would. But for now, for this time in my life, running works. I can run whenever there is a spare moment or before the moments of the day have even started.

My mornings work better. My time is more organized. Some days I run with friends. Words exchanged with the only grown up I see all day. And sometimes I run by myself and I can plan for all that needs to bed done, OR I can just dream about life, OR I can just think of nothing for miles. And I get to make that decision myself.

Those days, the ones I run, are usually the days my patience stretches a little longer. Those are the days, my "to dos" get checked off a little quicker. And I feel strong, ready to take on whatever the day holds. Some days, when I have not slept at all, and morning has come too quickly, I still get up and run. Because I know, the day will be better if I do.

Just recently my four year old took off on his two wheel bike, and this new found freedom has allowed for me to do something I have not done since my oldest was a baby, nine years ago. I have started running with them. They hop on their bikes, the two year old in a jogging stroller and we go, running faster than I would by myself to keep up with the energy of children ready to go! And I get to share part of my world with them, my running world. And they get to see me in part of my world that was always a secret, the one that happens before their sleepy eyes are even awake. They stumble out of bed curl up in my lap and ask, "How was your run mom!" I love that they know I run. And I love that they get to be part of that  world sometimes now, when life is maybe a little extra hard, and a second run is necessary, or the morning got a way from me and I missed the run. They join with me.

But sometimes it has to be just mine. Still my time, to restore in the wee hours of the day.

And so I run, knowing I am a better mom because I do.