A Mom's Vacation

I am on a kid-free vacation.
I am alone in the warm Southern Arizona desert with my husband.  No children around me. No diapers to change. No house to clean. No whining to listen to.
Just an occasional phone call from a kid to complain that the babysitter asked them to practice or from a kid telling me how fun that the babysitter made playdoh.

For weeks, I have anticipated this trip.  I have been thrilled to have some alone time with my husband, excited to have some alone time with me!  I've even gone so far as to say, "I think I even deserve a few days to myself."  We haven't taken a trip alone since we had only three children.  But this trip is ever reminding me that there is no denying, who I am.  I am a mom.  I have been reminded of it constantly. 

Even, on a kid-free vacation...
.
When I sat down on the plane, I was excited to sit and read and enjoy some peace and quiet, but I kept watching the family in front of me...

The poor mother, who was trying to read her book, kept getting interrupted.  First it was to find the cereal, then pour some milk from her Starbucks cup, then look for a spoon in her expansive carry-on.  Then bless her heart, all of those things were returned to her, empty and used.  I know the drill, being a garbage can is part of being a mother.  I couldn't help but smile.   Though I allowed her mothering to interrupt my non-mothering vacation.  I am a mom.  I wanted her to be able to read her book uninterrupted.  It didn't happen.  She is a mom.

As the plane ride was approaching landing, the young boy in front of me, was speaking loudly.  He had ipod headphones on, and so of course, was compensating with a loud voice...  The dad kept 'shushing' him, obviously, so he wouldn't annoy the people around them.    If my kids had been with me.  I would have been doing the same thing.   That is one of the jobs of a parent,  'shushing kids' so they do not annoy others.  It wasn't annoying me.  It made me smile.  I understood.  I am a mom.

As I sat at on the hotel patio, during 'cocktail hour', sipping my Sprite, while my husband mingled with sprinkler associates, I couldn't help but notice the family that was passing by on their way to the pool.  The young children wanted to stop and watch the goings-on.  The parents trying unnoticabley to hurry their children on.  Even a simple walk to the pool isn't always straightforward.  Even though I was enjoying my quiet solitude, I am a mom.  I understood.

When I approached my room, yesterday afternoon, I saw a galloping tween in front of me stop at the room next to mine.  With gusto and energy, he unlocked his door.  I smiled that a child was in the room next to me.  I have been concious of checking my family of seven into a hotel room before, hoping the occupants of nearby rooms, don't see us enter.  I am always relieved when other children are nearby.   I hope the energetic tweens parents, don't shush him too much in their room.  I am a mom.  I understand noise.

Sitting at the hotel grill, eating my sandwich, I smiled as a young family approached.  Thankful, that today I was eating my sandwich without breaking off bite-size pieces, and drinking from a straw that wasn't being shared with anyone else.  There was no back-wash in my water. 

When I want to go and sit by the pool, I am aware that I only have one swimsuit to put on and I only have one thing to carry, my book.  I notice I have no floaties, no swimming diapers, no snacks.  It is just me.  I read when I want, I people watch when I want.  Yesterday, I watched another mom, and I sighed a smile.  It didn't feel quite right.  I am a mom, yet for now, no one is sitting on me wet, and no one has said to me, "Watch me Mommy."  It was odd when I stood up to leave the pool and heard no one whine when I was ready to leave. 

I am a mom.
I can't escape it.  Once a mom, always a mom.
Even on a kid-free vacation.

Peace and Quiet

Love when I look out my kitchen window and see this.
Four siblings playing nicely and one baby asleep in his crib.

Sometimes,
Motherhood is not so bad.

Time Out for Mom

Sunday I came home from church hungry and tired.

I decided to cook a  'Sunday dinner.' (A few months ago, for various reasons, I switched 'Sunday dinners' to 'Monday dinners'.)

But, Sunday I was hungry for a good meal.  I reneged on my switch.

While cooking Sunday's meal:
I listened to complaints about the meal choice.
I received negative replies when suggesting the table be set.
I heard moaning about another task asked to be completed.
I could hear mean words exchanged between sisters.
I heard the tears after a shin was kicked by a sibling.
I was still hungry and tired.

I exchanged cross words with my husband, while I verbally spewed my regrets of fixing a dinner and not keeping with my original four month ago plan to not have Sunday dinners

I turned off all the stove burners.  I pushed the stop button on the dinging microwave.  I went to my bedroom and cried.

When I returned, my solitary place setting was still at the table.
It stayed there all day.
It was still there when I went to bed Sunday night.  
It was untouched.
I cleared it Monday morning.

Motherhood is not always bliss.
Thank goodness for tomorrows.

A Mother's Contribution

About ten years ago, when I was only a year or so into being a mother, I was visited by two women within a multi-level sales company.  I had bought some product at a recent party, and they called a few days later to come and visit with me.  I was informed the visit would give one of the ladies some points towards a vacation.  Politely, I agreed. I was not against giving anyone a favor.

The visit turned out to be more than a favor.  It was their intent to try and get me to join their sales team.  I politely told them I had no interest.  In an attempt to sway me, they resorted to comments and questions, that though I am sure were not intended to demean-they did.  "You'll have the opportunity to make a lot of money, wouldn't you want your husband to be really proud of you for something?"  "Wouldn't you like to feel as though you are contributing to society?"

I sat there flabbergasted, that two women, one of which I knew was a mother, could ask me the questions they did.  And as tends to be the case in most uncomfortable conversations, I thought of good responses too late.   I wrote a letter not only to those two ladies, but to the corporate office.

In my letter ten years ago, my response to each question was such,

"My husband is proud of me.  When he asks our daughter where her nose is, she points to it.  I taught her that.  Both my husband and I feel a sense of pride and accomplishment in our day-to-day accomplishments with a one year old."

"When I am teaching my daughter the meaning of 'no,' I am contributing to society as I begin to teach her the basics of right and wrong."

I received apologies from all involved, and I recognize their questions were attempts to recruit me rather than to demean me.

But, I have never forgotten those questions they asked.  Now, ten years and four more kids later, my answers to their questions are generally the same as they were ten years ago, albeit, more experienced now.

Since I became a mother eleven plus years ago, I have had little desire to step into the corporate world.  Sure, there are days I fantasize about dressing up in a dry-clean only business suit and going to a restaurant without a play toy for lunch.  I even imagine how I would spend a paycheck written out in my name, for the hours and efforts I worked.

But for now, my 'business attire' consists of jeans and a t-shirt (on a good day it's even clean, with no kid residue visible).  My 'business meetings' are nothing fancier than a PTA board meeting in an available classroom.  And my 'paychecks' right now are nothing more than slobbery kisses and an occasional thank you.

But I have no doubt, I am contributing to society as I raise my family, in my small corner of the world.

Zoom Carnefel

Years ago, Megan used to watch the PBS show, Zoom.  Megan LOVED it.  In fact, in our 'Family Council' Book, our records show frequently in 2003-2004, when it came time to Megan's 'Matters of Importance', week after week she would request, "I really need help sending something to Zoom."

Well, Zoom was taken off the air, and unless looking at past Family Council entries and laughing, we thought Zoom was forgotten.  Until recently, when Megan discovered you can watch it on pbskids.org!  Megan saw a fun game on there, and wanted to play it as a family.

Combine all that with (mine and) Mike's frugality plus a one year old baby, plus a boy we thought had a sore wrist, plus our satisfaction in staying home and making our own fun...
This is a peek at our Saturday Night 'Zoom Carnefel.'

Each person was in charge of their own activity.
Megan's (courtesy of Zoom) was 'Balloon Train.'  We divided into two teams and paraded around the house with balloons between us.  Joshua insisted on using his hands (not allowed) and Drew had his own version of the game.

Luke's game was (in his words); "It's like, 'Pin The Tail On The Donkey', but it is 'Put the drawing of the person closest to the side of Tatch (name of the horse) like when I fell off of it.'  So with us each blindfolded with a Cub Scout kerchief, and a little twirl, we attempted our placements.  Daddy won.

Ellie's game, was the most difficult.  We had to pass pasta tubes from one straw to another.  Megan and Daddy were the only ones that didn't use their hands... (The rest of us were finished and bored, by the time Daddy and Megan finished!)

Mom and Joshua's activity was ice cream tacos.

BUT,
Daddy's activity was by far my favorite.  (Sunday was Daylight Savings, and the clocks needed to go forward.)  So...while Daddy played, "Name That Tune" on the piano with all of the children, I ran around to every clock in the house and put it forward one hour, to 8:33pm!
Perfect!
The Carnefel was SO FUN. Time just FLEW by!
When it was over,
It was bedtime.
Now that, is SMART parenting!

Tenderheart

Many years ago, I was babysitting a four year old girl, whose parents were going through a divorce/break-up (actually I'm not sure if they were even married now that I think about it).
The little girl, with baby dolls and strollers, was playing house.  As she played, I could hear her say things in a mad voice such as, "I don't want to have her tonight. It's your turn." or  "I have things to do, I'm not watching her."
Of course I was shocked.  But I realized, that our children 'play house,' very similarly to their real life 'house.'

And though I have heard my fair share of my own children playing 'real' house.  I was thrilled when Drew found this baby doll on the floor yesterday.  He picked it up, held it close to him, and "ahhh"-ed the doll as he rocked his little body side to side.

This time, I am proud to say, he learned it from ...

ME!

A Cowboy's Service

"The key to being a real cowboy, is to get back up on a horse when your
broken arm has healed properly."

The Cowboy's Mom

Friday afternoon, I watched as Luke held on for dear-life as the horse he was riding galloped towards home at full-speed.  All I could do was scream, "Hold on Luke, hold on." And bless his heart he did, and then Luke could hold no more, and I watched my little cowboy, Luke, fall flat on the asphalt.  He suffered scrapes and sores all over his little body... A three inch bruise/goose ache on his knee... A bruise/scrape/goose ache on his right elbow. And, a sore wrist.  Or so we thought.

Mike and I spent most of Saturday in heated discussion regarding Luke's 'sore wrist.'

Luke spent nearly all of Saturday laying on the couch.  His activities consisted of, Tylenol swallows, ice pack wraps, band-aid replacements and an occasional complaint.

Sunday morning, Mike took Luke to the church at 8:30am to set up chairs.  Upon completion of that task, Mike (finally) took Luke to Primary Childrens Medical Center where a broken arm was diagnosed.

Ellie's response to all this?
"It's a good thing Grandpa didn't see it, because Luke wasn't wearing a helmet."

Joshua's response to all this?
"I don't want ride a horse and fall on the road."

Megan's response to all this?
Luke asks.  Megan does.


Mike's response to all this?
"At least now Luke has a good story to tell.  Not only does he have a broken arm from falling from a high speed galloping horse, he set up chairs before he was taken to the doctor!"

My response to all this?
"Told you so..."