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Yes, I know. I've been a slacker the last few weeks with my postings. Offering you no more than quick photos and videos that upload in a few seconds and pass it off as a blog. What? You're not entirely offended? You didn't plan on not reading my ramblings anymore because of it? Oh my! How I love you- my 3 readers! You make my heart smile.
But- alas. I feel a real post coming on. Grab some coffee- or tissue- this may be long!
So...whats new with you? Blogging is sometimes like catching up with an old friend. Except that the old friend is me. The me that's somewhat stifled, buried deep under layers of mommyland that I can slowly peel away as I click and clack at the keyboard. Or talk to a friend who doesn't mind leaping into the big black mass of uncertainly or uncharted territory with. Thank you. You know who you are.
So here you are blog/blog friends/ complete strangers who read this- I'm feeling...slightly unclear. I'm uncertain of things. I'm scared. I'm finding myself being reminded daily of the things I know are constant and clear to counter my unease. Those things which are strong as stone and define me. They are unchanging- a wife, a mother, a sister, a daughter, an overachiver, a slight perfectionsit, a control freak, a girl who loves God and finds it so hard to have such faith required to really follow Him hour by hour. I'm know with upmost certainity I love the color green, a warm breeze on a summer day, a riciulously oversized coffee cup filled with shamefull amounts of flaoered creamer. I'd never hesitate to declair that I love to read, love to craft, love to play legos with my boys, love that I'm overcoming my fear of spiders with my kids help. I love snuggling with Jacob, writing letters with Ethan, and watching them love on each other, all with the same vigor that I know I can't stand the smell of vinegar. Its unquestionable.
So what has me stumbling across an unclear path and makes me feel more complicated than I entirely should feel? Dunno. But there is something lurking within me that continues to bring up feelings of incompleteness and wonderment. Its not entirely bad, but the overwhelming feeling of mystery is prevalent. I'm holding fast to the knowledge that God is in control and is with me as I scramble to hold tight onto faith as if it were a tangible rope.
And deep down I know it- the black mass that threatens to swallow me- its a more two black numbers on a white calendar circled in red ink.
August 26th.
Its the first day of school. The first day of Kindergarten. Its the beginning of the end. It is- the day I longed for, the day I dreaded, the day I see my little baby turn into a boy, the day I see the end of an era of childhood, the start of a precious boy beginning to make his own way in this big huge world.
Its so far beyond his unconscious reach yet, but this day is monumental. It will be marked right under occations such as my wedding, or birth of my kids, its like....(yes- I'm being tragically dramatic here) the biggest day of MY life as well!
He'll be in full day Kindergarten. His teacher will spend more hours of the day with him awake and vibrant than I will. 13 Other children will share his laugh and smile and possibly his complaining on a daily basis. They'll get to revel in his curiosity, his generosity and his love. They'll also have to deal with his unwillingness to go pee by himself too- which I am not jealous of in the least! But all joking aside, its the day my baby grows up a little. And while you might think- geeze lady- you've had 5 years to prepare for this day, and while I know that's entirely fair and true. I did not realize the full beauty of what I had when I had it all the time.
I became a mother much sooner than I ever expected. It was not a decision, it was not planned, and at the young and naive age of 21 I was thrust into motherhood and the lonely world of stay-at-home mommy much too soon. Listen....hear the violins playing for me?? No- of course I always have cheered to the fact I was able to stay home. To raise my son(s) without the burden of a job or other caregiver taking my place. Its a luxury that's rare to find in this day and age, and I thank my husband for it, less than I should, but we both realize how special it has been to have had the opportunity of domesticated goodness for our children.
Yet at the same time- I was very lonely the first few years, I was struggling, and I spent many many days wondering- when will real life start? This is not what I signed up for- this is not how I pictured my life. I was selfish. I was naive. I was sleepless and I was lost.
Fast forward 2 years into my adventures in motherhood and the pending birth of our second and much more planned for child, and things changed. Darkness turned to light, and I found my way in on the path of motherhood. I no longer panicked at the thought of being left at home for 8-9 hours straight. I felt accomplished that I could do it! I made dinosaur shaped sandwiches and celery logs with raisin ants on top of peanut butter for lunches. We leaned how to ride bikes on the cul-de-sac and played red light green light nearly every afternoon. We explored nature and museums, we finger painted, and read books like Go Dog Go and The Hungry Caterpillar. Morning filled with the musical likeness of The Wiggles and cheesy little noises made my the Telebtubbies. First words were spoken, first steps taken, first tastes discovered. First friends made.
He's been called a pirate, a dinosaur, a Jedi Knight, a piggy (in reference to his uncanny obsession with Charlotte's Web), a wonderful brother, a world traveler, and more times than not- a strong willed child. Arent all first born's?
In his first 5 years of childhood he's experienced more than I could have ever hoped for, and a few things I wished he'd never had to. He's been to more than 25 countries,13 cruises, crossed 5 different bodies of water, by sea, by air. He's ridden in planes, boats, cruise ships, trains, trolleys, buses, cars, trucks, and mini vans. He's got a lick of Spanish in his vocabulary. He's lost a tooth, had 8 stitches, a terrible case of asthma, and a pestering toenail that never seems to fully heal.
More importantly, Ethan has one of the biggest hearts I ever seen. Most might not see it like Jeff and I do. Its easy to mistake it beneath the occasional yelling, the talking back, and childish tantrums. But below his tough exterior there is a heart who knows how to share, has an imagination to challenge the most creative artists. He knows how to love unconditionally, to unselfishly go without so others may have. He has a natural ability to teach. He has a way of playing with my hair and touching my face when he talks to me about love. It melts my heart. He prays. He loves God. He tells me daily. He sincerely has the faith I strive for. He chooses to make good choices. He is...priceless and beautiful.
I'm saddened to see this season come to an end, and yet, it truly is a new beginning- for both of us. He'll grow in knowledge and friendship, and I'll grow to understanding how to manage my time on a more strict schedule. I'll learn to balance to life of having a son in grade school and one nearing preschool. He'll learn to make friends and hang upside down on the monkey bars. I'll learn to shuffle nap times around pick up schedules and how to pack lunches in Spiderman lunchboxes. He'll learn about adding and subtracting and how it applies to more than just blocks or fingers. I'll take on the role of Room mom and plan party for his class. I'll learn the rules of the pick up line and proper teacher/parent relationships. He'll learn to eat lunch in a timely manner so he has time to actaully play at recess. I'm bound to learn new things in math, reading, writing, Bible, and art along side him. I'll hug him and praise him at his success on spelling tests, and cry with him when he gets into his first fight on the playground.
Ethan and I have a partnership and unlike anything I imagined parenting to be like, yet it is a pleasure to grow with him, along side him. His maturity and milestones marked my own. I'm so proud to be his mother. I love you so much my little Eth.
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