What’s In The Box?

Last night after the girls were in bed Uno crept to the stairs and stage whispered:

“Mommy?  I had a bad dream, a really bad dream!, and I can’t go to sleep.”

With a sigh I hauled myself off of the sofa and tromped downstairs.  It had been a long day and I wasn’t too keen on the kid who couldn’t stay in bed, whatever the reason.

“Will you snuggle me, Mommy?”

“Yes.”  I crawled onto the bed and pulled her body close to mine to nestle up.  “You need to go back to sleep, okay?”

“Okay.”  {silence}

“Mommy?”

“Yes.” {Short and a little frustrated.  The kid needed to shut up and sleep already.}

“Mommy, I know I wasn’t alive when you were born but I loved you even then and I knew I would be yours and you would be a nice Mommy… I love you and I’m lucky you’re my Mama.”

There it was, right there in the midst of the ordinary and exasperating.  My Why.

A motivational speaker said everyone has a small box in their lives to put their number one Why for doing things.  He would say, “Find your Why and put it in your box.  Then, every time you question what you’re doing and need a kick-start to put forth one more burst of energy ask yourself, ‘What’s in the box?'”

There are a lot of motivations for why I live my life.

I work sometimes just for money.  Sometimes I stay up too late because I haven’t learned the discipline to stop writing or playing Words with Friends or whatever else I do with my time in the evenings.

I encourage others because it changes life to have someone believe in you.

I am a relatively kind driver because I recognize that the world is full of people who need to have just one thing go their way today.

I am a Believer because I know it is true.

But my big Why, what’s in my box?  My family.

Period.

What’s in my box?  My husband, a man who is a blessing from God I don’t deserve in any way, a living reminder of grace.  A man I love and can’t imagine not having to squabble at and walk through each day with.

What’s in my box?  Three little girls who challenge me to the nth degree and make my heart ache when I watch them grow and learn and love.  Mothering is the hardest, most exhausting thing I’ve ever, ever done and the most worthwhile.

There I am, tired and exasperated and sick of change.  On the precipice of “This is SOOOO not worth it!” and a little five-year-old girl boosts my heart and makes me realize every sacrifice, every hug, every aching muscle from holding a child too big for holding, every moment where I blearily look around and think, “I’m really not going to make it out alive this time!”…

… I realize it’s not only worth it, it’s what makes life worth breathing through.

Thank you, Uno, my child who can’t read this blog to know how I express my love through recording the details of conversations, life and observations about you and your sisters… thank you for reminding me of What’s In My Box.

It’s you.  Nestled right there alongside your sisters in my heart.

What’s in your box?

 

Invisible Mothers

I almost feeling guilty posting this since it’s an email forward that has circulated around the internet for several years.  BUT… no matter how many times I read it I find myself misty-eyed and I think the author nailed it right on the head.

As one author wrote about this piece of wisdom: “On a day when I was wondering why no one had nominated me for a major award because I was able to get three beds stripped and cleaned and remade, a colorful and balanced supper on the table, a toddler entertained on my own from 7:30 a.m. to 5 p.m., an entertaining column written and submitted, and a first grader taken to school with everything he needed and brought home with nothing that he didn’t, I received this in my inbox.”

So tonight, because I’m still absolutely exhausted, I’m going to post one of the pieces of writing that has given me comfort over the years.  Enjoy!

It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I’m on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I’m thinking, ‘Can’t you see I’m on the phone?’

Obviously not; no one can see if I’m on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I’m invisible. The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more! Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this??

Some days I’m not a pair of hands; I’m not even a human being. I’m a clock to ask, ‘What time is it?’ I’m a satellite guide to answer, ‘What number is the Disney Channel?’ I’m a car to order, ‘Right around 5:30, please.’

Some days I’m a crystal ball; ‘Where’s my other sock?, Where’s my phone?, What’s for dinner?’

I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history, music and literature -but now, they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She’s going, she’s going, she’s gone!?

One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. She had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself.

I was feeling pretty pathetic when she turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, ‘I brought you this.’ It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn’t exactly sure why she’d given it to me until I read her inscription: ‘With admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.’

In the days ahead I would read – no, devour – the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work:

1) No one can say who built the great cathedrals – we have no record of their names.
2) These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished.
3) They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.
4) The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.

A story of legend in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, ‘Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof, No one will ever see it.’ And the workman replied, ‘Because God sees.’

I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, ‘I see you. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does.’

No act of kindness you’ve done, no sequin you’ve sewn, no cupcake you’ve baked, no Cub Scout meeting, no last minute errand is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can’t see right now what it will become.

I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.

When I really think about it, I don’t want my son to tell the friend he’s bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, ‘My Mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for 3 hours and presses all the linens for the table.’ That would mean I’d built a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, he’d say, ‘You’re gonna love it there…’

As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we’re doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible mothers.

From a sketch performed by Nicole Johnson at a Women of Faith conference.  This book is available on Amazon: The Invisible Woman, When Only God Sees: A Special Story for Mothers.  The book referenced here is Cathedrals of Europe.

 

A Give Away! This Is Not How I Thought It Would Be!

“I read a book that I think you would love,” said a facebook message I got a bit ago. “I felt like I was having a conversation with you while I was reading it. Go check it out!”

The book my friend was talking about was This is Not How I Thought It Would Be: Remodeling Motherhood to Get the Lives We Want Today by Kristin Maschka.

On my facebook friend’s recommendation I purchased the electronic version of the book and started reading away on my iTouch. There were moments I teared up, moments I got mad and – the beautiful thing – moments I said, ah-ha!

Kristin’s book helped me identify and articulate some of the emotions I’ve experienced since becoming a mother. I felt a sense of kinship in realizing there were many other women around me who felt the same sense of conflict I felt trying to reconcile their professional persona with their maternal persona.

Some items caught my attention?

“No matter what baggage we carry, mothers today often feel we have to decide between our families and our ambitions. We sense that we can’t have both because our subconscious tells us that mothers are completely fulfilled by caring for family and mothers who are employed or pursue personal fulfillment are selfish. That doesn’t leave a lot of room for ambition. Should a ‘good’ mother be able to let go of ambition?”

“Mothers I talked to shared… a sense of loss… “I’ve somehow lost my ‘more.’ It got relegated to the back burner some time ago, and got replaced by the things my kids and husband are passionate about.’ As another mother described so well: ‘I felt my identity shrivel up and wither.'”

“A woman shared she had recently attended a career seminar in her field. She asked the people in attendance how to explain in an interview the fact that for three years she had been caring for her family and not employed. A colleague told her, “Tell them you’ve been in a coma. That way you’ll have better luck explaining why you haven’t been doing anything for the past three years.” Haven’t. Been. Doing. Anything?… I need to update my resume and I have two options:

Coma Patient (1999-2002) Responsible for lying in a hospital bed as machines breath for me, tubes feed me, and nurses bathe me.

-OR-

Family Care Provider (1999-2002) Responsible for… everything!

You’re telling me I’m better off with the title Coma Patient? How is it possible that people can calmly assert that being in a coma – a coma! – is more productive, more contributing, more work than caring for a family?”

I ended up writing Kristin a note thanking her for putting her own struggles down on paper for other people to enjoy and take wisdom from. The book is an excellent tool to start examining my own feelings and perspectives – and then filter them through my own core beliefs in my responsibility and ability to do the job(s) that God has called me to do.

Kristin was so friendly and responded personally. She even offered me a book to give away to you, the Stealing Faith reader, for free!

It’s my first giveaway and I’m pretty excited about it!

So, here’s your job. You have one week to contribute a comment on this post. Next Sunday, Easter 2011, I’ll put the names of everyone who comments in a hat and have the ruffians draw the winner.

And that lucky winner will get a book from Kristen!

Isn’t that lovely?!

Tell me in the comments what parts of motherhood surprised you the most? Have you had conversations that parenting isn’t what you thought it would be with the significant women in your life?

 

Super-Charged Cheese Sticks

Earlier this week I discovered a study that caused the sun to break through the clouds and the appearance of celestial angels toting gold-gilded harps.

Caffeine consumption has been positively associated with weight loss.

As much as I wish it were not the case, I have a complete addiction to Coca-Cola. There have been seasons of my life when I have quit but the majority of my time has been spent in an intimate relationship with the “real thing.”

I can prove it’s been a lifelong love affair.

When I was three we went on a family vacation; my parents bought a 2-liter of Coke and gave it to me for the first time. After my first hit of its sugary fizziness they told me I couldn’t have anymore until the next day.

In the morning they found me sleeping on the kitchen floor, curled around the 2-liter bottle.

As a college student and writer for the newspaper I worked the morning shift. Every day at 8 am I would belly up to the garish red counter of the student union bagel shop and order a garlic bagel, toasted, with jalapeño cream cheese and 32 ounces of Coke.

I still don’t know how I survived those days without producing a bleeding stomach ulcer.

Every time I get pregnant I make a wholehearted effort to stop with the caffeine consumption. Usually I succeed in quitting -or at least moderating my volume!- but as soon as the baby pops out of my midriff it’s back to the bubbly.

So, learning there’s a positive side to a habit that will likely lead to diabetes and insulin shots later in life makes my day!

Knowing that I can combine one of my greatest vices with one of my number-one wish list items (to return my stomach to it’s pre-babies trimness) is like a dream come true and totally worthy of gold-gilted harp music!

My creative side needs to combine this newfound information with previously released studies identifying calcium and dairy products as useful for weight loss. So here it is, folks, my million-dollar idea:

Super-Charged Cheese Sticks.

Add a shot of Five Hour Energy to the concoction of the concealed milk product used to form string cheese and create a delightful treat designed to help you live your super-sized life with the vim and vigor of a crack-shooting chipmunk.

Just think of the possibilities!

* Moms wanting to lose weight yet feel zestfully energized? Super-Charged Cheese Sticks.
* Kids need a quick, healthy snack before soccer practice that provides the energy needed to make them ultra competitive? Super-Charged Cheese Sticks.
* Grannies hoping to counteract their dietary supplement of prunes while helping them kick booty playing bridge? Super-Charged Cheese Sticks.

It’s admittedly not world peace but I think I’m on to something here!

What practical application of science have you invented?

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