Things That Are Calming and Comforting and Don't Involve Wine (Though There's Still Plenty of That Going On)

Another great quote:

Author Anna Quindlen reminds us of the brevity of all of this. She reminds us to pause:

“The biggest mistake I made [as a parent] is the one that most of us make. . . . I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs. There is one picture of [my three children] sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages six, four, and one. And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night. I wish I had not been in such a hurry to get on to the next thing: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less.”
From the book, Loud and Clear (Ballantine Books, 2004)

I am really working on this right now. There is so much that is “grind-like” about being a parent, being a mother. I want to sit and play with Leo and Ellie the second we get home but there are lunch boxes to clean out and dinner to be made and baths to be given. And right now, Leo is really testing me. The potty training is hard. But of course, necessary. Do I really feel like rushing upstairs and sitting him down on the potty at the end of what’s been for all of us a long day? To listen to his whines and pleas? Of course not. It would be so much easier to give into Dora.

Sometimes it’s easy to get bogged down by the neverending tasks. I feel so proud at the end of the night when the dinner dishes are stacked neatly in the running dishwasher, the lunches and breakfasts for the next day are made, the clothes for tomorrow are layed out, the laundry is spinning gracefully in the washer. The children are asleep, snoring adorably as they do. And then my heart sinks when I realize I will have to do it all. Again. And again. I am working on being at peace with this, which I know sounds funny, because. I guess I should say I’m trying to find the “beauty” in it. Rather than looking at each task like it’s well, a task.

Also, just to add fuel to the fire that I have become a Complete Fruitball, I have wanted to share a wonderful CD called "Little Bird" that I stumbled upon (read: got free from work). It contains a song that has become my meditation of late, when I am feeling weak or like I’m about to snap (when even the merlot just won’t do the trick). It’s an old folk song or hymnal, I’m not sure which.

I’ve got peace like a river
I’ve got peace like a river in my soul,
I’ve got love like an ocean
I’ve got love like an ocean in my soul
I’ve got joy like a fountain
I’ve got joy like a fountain in my soul,

In moments of frustration, I am thinking about this. The kids really like the CD too. We’ve been listening to in the car (I’ve even been able to get Leo to listen to it over the blasted Dora CD that he usually prefers over everything else). It seems to have a (wait for it…) calming effect on both kids. Leo tries to sing along to it. And yesterday I caught Ellie doing some sort of conducting to the music. Adorable. And they don't even seem to mind if I keep hitting "repeat."