Beware the ...birthday of March!

I've been lazy lately.  Perhaps it's the ides of March... or maybe I'm just lazy. 

I had a birthday.  Actually, I've had many birthdays.  31 to be exact, or is it 32?  I did have a birth day on the day I was born, right?  Anyway, I'm 31 years old now.  I have to say that turning 31 wasn't nearly so traumatic as turning 30.  I guess I've come to terms with my gray hairs. 

I made the mistake of being honest when my kids asked how old I am now.  In their eyes, it's cool to be so old and they have been telling anyone that will listen just how old I am.  Thanks kids.

My sister was thoughtful enough to make me a nice chocolate cake, and I think she kind of hinted that it would be nice to not have to make her own cake when her day rolls around again.  Remind me in September, would you? 

I think it kind of bothered my kids that I wasn't planning a birthday bash.  My kindergarten son has now been introduced to the theme birthdays, complete with games and party favors, and he thinks I should be doing the same.  He even offered to invite some of his buddies over for my party.  Just what I want for my birthday, a bunch of sugar jazzed six year old boys tearing my house apart.  No thank you.  I would like a half hour to myself to just sit in my room and do whatever.  Read a magazine... doodle garden plans... stare out the window...

Instead, my son gave me ten pennies, my daughter gave me a hug and kiss (several times over) and they both wrote me letters and cards, with my help of course.  The husband, he brought me flowers... tulips, which I love.  He also gave me a giant container of nutella, which I also love.  On top of that, he gave me two, that's right, two cards.  That's how much he loves me.  I was wondering what took him so long at the store.  Now I know, he was reading cards and I have to say, the gushy one he picked was perfect.  I hope he actually read it.  I know guys that just grab the flowery-est card they see and slap their name on it.  I do know that he read the humorous one. 

All things considered, it was a good birthday.

Another failure and a lesson learned

After several rather rough days, I'm happy to say that today was a good day.  And I think I know why.  As I stood in the kitchen at 3:00 this morning, warming up a bottle, I had a thought.  First thought was, "why is my baby awake right now?", but my other thought was much more profound.  Because of a deadline, I was working on my projects like a mad woman.  When I'm so focused like that, I can't focus on anything else.  It does no good to have a plan, or lists, or anything else because I won't look at it.  The house was a mess, we didn't have good filling dinners, we ate fast food a few times... my entire household organization went to pot.  I became frazzled from the pressure of the deadline, but especially from the feelings of failing in everything else.  As I stood here early this morning, I realized that my priorities had gotten all out of whack.  I was allowing a project, which is important, and it will get done, take precedence over everything else. 

Have you ever seen the little object lesson where you try to fit rocks, sand and water into one jar?  The lesson being that if you put things in the jar in the right order, everything will fit, but if you start with the small things, it just won't work.

So, first things first.  Feed my spirit, feed my marriage, feed my family (physically and spiritually).  I read a post today at Give a Girl a Fig about being spiritually thirsty, and I realized that I am too.  First on my list... study scriptures and pray with more meaning.

Feeding my marriage is second on the list.  Someone gave me great advice before I married my husband.  He said to make sure my relationship with my husband is a priority, right after my relationship with God.  It is easy to allow children to take over everything and monopolize your energy and time, but if the marriage relationship is kept strong and sound, so much the better for those children. 

Third comes the children and house.  I let it fall apart and the kids were crazy as a result.  Which then made me more crazy, and the cycle continues.

Then, comes the extras, the projects for Christmas, the activities, etc.  And, as a side note, I did make the deadline for my book project (the buy one get one free sale was ending that night) BUT, as I was drifting off to sleep, I was brought straight out of bed by suddenly remembering that I had been messing with the page order and hadn't fixed it before I submitted it!  Too late to cancel the order, too late for the sale.  So much for that great idea, huh?  We'll just add that to that "failure" list.  I'm okay about it though.  I needed more time to work on it anyway and I should have been smart enough to just let it go, but I didn't because that would have been too easy and I like to do things as difficult as possible.  Or so it seems.  I am excited about that book though.  I'll post more about that soon.

There's no place like home.

I drove to my childhood home yesterday.  My home is a constant in my life.  It's always there, mostly the same.  Something I can always fall back to and count on.

I love this time of year on the ranch.  The air is so crisp and cool, but the sun is still warm.  The leaves are mostly gone, and the grass is yellow.  The willows along the ditches have dropped their leaves and the branches have turned bright red and orange.  The animals have become fluffy looking with their winter coats growing in.  The birds are gone and it's so quiet, like nature is coasting along before dropping off to sleep.  As I drove closer to home, I knew just what I would find when I got there.

My dad would be off doing some job with cattle in preparation for winter.  My mom would be at her desk, catching up on bills and letters.  There would be a fire burning in the fireplace to "take the chill off the house" as she says, and there would be a pot of soup on the stove, ready for whenever dad finishes his project and comes in. 

The same; comfortable, safe, welcoming, constant.

Bye mom! I love you!

I didn't cry when my oldest started kindergarten. Honestly, he didn't give me a chance. He was through the door, backpack hung up and finding his seat before I could even sniffle. I had to chase him down to get a goodbye kiss. But he did make me tear up last week as I saw him to the door. He was running up the sidewalk, when he suddenly stopped, whipped around and yelled, "Bye mom, I love you!"
What a sweetie. He knows how to melt my heart.
I'm storing this memory for later when it will not only be un-cool to say such things in front of classmates, but it will also be mortifying to even be seen with mom.

Comforting

I knew the minute we bought our mini van that someone would get something slammed in one of those sliding doors. I assumed it would be one child slamming another child's fingers. I was wrong.
My four year old daughter slammed her very own arm in the door. -she has a special talent for hurting herself in new and interesting ways- I didn't see exactly how it happened, I was gathering my bags, but I heard the thud and knew from the long moment of silence (as she sucked in breath to scream) that it hurt pretty bad.
I helped the sobbing little girl to the house and into the kitchen where we found the freezer door wide open with her five year old brother standing on a chair, pulling out the ice cube tray to make an ice pack for her arm. As I took over the ice pack job, he ran to the bedroom to get her favorite fuzzy blanket and asked her what movie would make her feel better so he could get it started.
I guess he was listening as we explained his vocabulary words...

Comforting: something comforting makes you feel better when you are hurt of afraid.