Life isn't what it looks like on Facebook.
I was talking to someone yesterday and she made a statement that made me think. "You, Adam and your family sure seem happy. Are you?"
Now of course she isn't just basing that on pictures she sees on Facebook. She does see us some in person too. But probably more so, she is basing her question on all the pictures she sees online - date nights, selfies in the car, my girls posing perfectly and looking adorable. The smiles. The numerous pictures of us looking like the picture-perfect family. I mean, that's what Facebook basically does - it gives people an impression of your family and allows them to believe they know you and what your life looks like. But what Facebook doesn't show are those moments that aren't worth taking a picture of.
Today I'm not having the best day. It's not a bad day. I don't really have a reason to be grumpy. But I just am. This is the third morning in a row I feel this way. I'm tired. My husband and I consistently say we're going to go to bed early and before we know it, 11:00 rolls around and we are still watching some TV show in bed. With all the hours in the day my brain has to be "on", I need that downtime to turn my brain off and just "be." But sleep! Sleep would probably be better for me. For us. Are we the only crazy people who fight going to sleep and then suffer for it day after day? Adam has always teased me that he hasn't slept in 3 years...since the day he met me.
Besides being tired, my kids can sometimes drive me crazy in the mornings. Despite being very emotional, I am just as logical too. Things need to make sense for me to agree with it or accept it. So in my mind, by the age of 6 and coming up on 7, kids should be able to use their own common sense... right? They should know what needs to be done in the mornings like drink all your water with vitamins in it, eat all your breakfast, change your underwear... you know, the basics. I shouldn't have to remind them of every little thing, right? But yet, that is what I find myself doing. And it drives me nuts! So the mornings are spent reminding them in that "I'm totally irritated with you right now" mom tone, nagging, disciplining, saying "hurry up!" for the 100th time, only to truly feel a sense of relief as they walk out the door at 7:30 for school. Isn't that terrible? I actually feel relieved when they leave for school! That makes me feel like an awful mother but it's simply the truth.
Now granted, even though I'm relieved they leave in the mornings, that doesn't mean I don't miss them. When I have to run errands and I drive past their school, I find myself eagerly looking at the playground to see if just maybe, I will catch a glimpse of my girls out there. I pray for their safety and their day every time I drive by. When I stand outside and wait for them to be released from school, I am truly happy to see their little smiling faces. But let's get back to admitting the "bad mommy" stuff.
You know when else I feel relief? When my kids go to bed. The minute 7:30 rolls around and my girls are tucked in bed, I let out the longest sigh of relief in my day. The day is done! By the time bedtime rolls around, I'm done having to be a drill sergeant, boss, piano teacher, cook, maid, playmate, homework guru, and referee! It's like the best part of my day...some days. Did I really just say that?! I really do love my kids. I do. I love being a mom. Well, most of the time I really love being a mom. But is it that wrong if there are rare moments where I just want to be selfish? Self-centered? Where I want someone to make me dinner, clean my house, make all the hard decisions, give me a massage and feed me ice cream that somehow won't make me fat? Because that is what I long for certain moments of certain days. Am I alone?
I've also decided over the past 3 years that I am probably a better mom to one child at a time. When it's just my two year old and I, I feel like I'm a pretty great mom! When I spend alone time with one of my older girls, it's really fun. During those moments, I give myself a big fat star for a job well done. But you get them all together, I'm not always winning mother-of-the-year awards. I don't handle chaos well. I don't love a lot of loud noise. Repetitive sounds like humming or tongue clicking make me crazy. So does high pitched little girl screaming. And the funny part is, I say all of this and my kids are very well behaved! God sure knew what kind of kids I needed. And I really see that now.
He gave me one child that encourages my ability to make out-of-the-box health choices. She pushes me to be an advocate for our own health and be more diligent then perhaps I would have been, with healthier eating and diet restrictions. She also fills me with affirmation, love and sweetness that I long for. I worry about her probably more then any of my kids, but I believe that makes us better parents. More invested. I try harder because I'm on top of any and all concerns. She keeps me active physically. She shares my love of music. She understands me and has a maturity about her right at the times I need it as a mother.
God also gave me a daughter that stretches me as a mother. I don't always understand her or relate to her. God knows how much I need to work on patience and what better way then giving me a daughter who will test it. She reminds me that although it's good to be a strong mom and tough on rules, I can also bring grace and a gentleness to the family. God knew I needed a daughter that I can really talk to about the hard issues. I see her being the child I sit and talk with for hours about a tough situation or life issue. It's during those times she has a maturity I really need. She is the child that pushes me to be a mature parent in thinking outside the box for discipline ideas, ways to motivate, or ideas to push her outside her comfort zone. She reminds me how giving my child more one-on-one attention helps them in countless ways. She thinks with a depth and wisdom at times that fill me with pride to be her mother. She may be a challenge for me at times, but the reward of being her mother is just that much greater.
Then God gave me a baby. Ha! Being a mom to a toddler at 36 is very different then being a mom at 30! This has also been a very different experience for me because the last time I had an infant or toddler, I was a single mom. I did everything on my own. This time, not only do I have a partner in my husband, but I also have two other children to be responsible for. To say it's been a huge adjustment is an understatement. But I believe that God knew the desires of my heart and that was to have another baby. To be able to share the experience of raising a child together with my husband from the time she was born. I really needed that. I do foresee this toddler of ours being more of a handful then I am used to. She is feisty and stubborn and full of self-expression. But God knows I need that challenge as well. She is a joy I can't even put into words. And maybe from seeing her various moods and emotions, I can learn how important it is to control my own.
Life isn't what it looks like on Facebook. We do have many picture-worthy moments and they are all genuine. There are moments in my every-day life where I can't believe I was blessed with being a mom to these three girls and am married to the wonderful man I'm married to. But let's be real. There are also those moments where my kids are driving me so crazy it takes every ounce of effort not to lose my mind. My temper is lost on a regular basis. There are moments where my husband and I argue. We've even argued in front of the kids, which makes me feel like the world's worst mother alive. But failure is a part of reality. That's just life. I think of a quote often that someone told me once a long time ago: "Life doesn't have to be perfect to be wonderful." Boy, was she right.
And you know, after sharing all of this, it does remind me of the perspective I need to have more often. I need to think of those reasons I believe God gave me the kids He did when I'm in a frustrating situation. I need to remember the qualities I adore in my children when I'm having a day where I don't feel like being a mom. And I probably need to give myself a break. I've realized that it is just as important to hold myself accountable as it is to give myself a break. I want to push myself to be a better mother, have more patience, be more present, have more fun. . . and then also remember to not beat myself up when I fail.
Life is messy and complicated. Being a parent is hard. We are all works in progress. But you know, in the meantime while we live this crazy life...why not post our cute pictures of Facebook? I love my kids and love sharing them with my friends. I love their smiles and funny poses and memories made through those pictures. Those moments are the ones I want to remember most. Those are the moments I want to share with the world because they make me smile and make me proud. Maybe here and there we add a little dose of reality too so we can be there to support each other and relate to each other as mothers, wives and women. Let's try and be as real as we can with those we trust. And on that note, I better wrap this up so I can pay attention to my youngest and turn off the Dora episode she is watching for the second time this morning!
~KDM
1/28/15
Wednesday, January 28, 2015
Friday, January 16, 2015
Let Me Tell You About My Mom...
"Every day I become a little bit more like my mother...And I couldn't be prouder."
Anyone that has known me for long, knows that my mom is my best friend. And in the wake of her friends' recent passing, it has made me stop and think even more about how short life is. Today is the funeral and I imagine all the wonderful, touching remarks her daughters will say about their mom. As nice as that is, it's made me realize that I don't want to wait until my mom is gone to say the things I want to say about her.
My mom, Shirley, was raised by her wonderful mother, my Grandma Ag. I remember the stories my mom has told me about how Grandma would take multiple buses, no matter the weather, just to take my mom and her brother to church every Sunday. She was a great woman and a great Mother all my moms' life. As I got older, it was pretty amazing to watch how my mom always took care of my Grandma in various ways. She would perm and fix her hair, she would help her with groceries or take her to appointments. She helped her make decisions. She spent so much time with her and they shared so many wonderful memories. Until the end of Grandma Ag's life, my mom was right by her side, taking care of her.
As opposed to her loving mother, my mom didn't have a terrific father. I won't go into all those details, but the example I learned from my mom is that despite her childhood trials, she never used that as an excuse. She never made poor choices in her life and then blamed the hardships of her childhood. Her strength of character, her self-discipline, her wisdom and her faith lead her to find the life she was meant to live and nothing from her childhood held her back. In today's day and age, where everyone seems to blame their parents for why their life turned out the way it did, I think she is a pretty awesome example of how you can dictate how your life turns out.
All my life, my mom has been a stay-at-home mom and she took that job very seriously. She has always been so great at keeping her house spotless, cooking amazing meals, working in the yard, helping my Dad with his business, and still having plenty of time to give me all her attention. Every day after school, I would come home and my mom and I would talk about my day. That is something I will never forget. Sure, as I got older, I may have left out a detail or two about my boy drama. Ha! But, for the most part, I've always considered her my greatest confidant.
As I became an adult and started my life on my own, our friendship remained strong. I have always taken advantage of being able to pick up the phone and talk my moms' ear off. She is the one I go to when I'm having a bad day, when I'm unsure of what decision to make, or when I just need a friend to listen. And it's been so nice to be there for her in those same ways. It's special to me that she feels she can always share with me and considers me as much of a friend as I do, her.
What is hard for me to think about is that despite how wonderful both my parents have always been to me, I have screwed up in my life more then a few times. I have made really poor choices. I have been impulsive, emotionally driven, and irresponsible at times. I haven't been as wise as my mother. I haven't had the self-discipline she has always shown. I haven't always had her strength of character. It kills me to think that I ever gave her moments, days, months or years of worrying about me.
Despite my various ups and downs in life, my mom has been my constant. Both my parents have been. I'm not going to claim that either of us are perfect or that our relationship has never weakened from time to time. She is human and so am I. Everyone argues and disappoints each other. But I sure won't remember those rare times. What i will always remember are the times she's sat and cried with me. The times she's seen my heart and known how I feel without me having to say a word. The moments she had the answer I needed to hear. The times she has supported me, even through the hard choices. The moments she could have chosen to turn her back on me and let me fend for myself...but instead, she was right by my side. The moments where both of us crack up uncontrollably and have fun together. Those moments....those moments are too great to even count.
My mom is the best homemaker. I've always teased that she is your everyday Martha Stewart! This lady can cook like no one else I know. She is an amazing entertainer and loves to have company to her home. Her set table in the dining room looks like it's straight out of a magazine. Her home is always clean and well organized. She takes care of her body, dresses well, and always has perfect hair! She is well put together, to say the least. And I don't mean to make her sound like one of those creepy way-too-perfect Stepford Wives. She is still very real and personable, which is what makes her so great.
Shirley is also the greatest friend to the women in her life. Since my parents moved to a golf course community, I have been amazed by the amount of friends they have! They are the most social people I know. Yes, she has her dinner parties and is a wonderful hostess. She volunteers on various committees where she lives and enjoys playing golf. Most people know who Shirley is. But deeper then that...that is what I am referring to. She is so thoughtful. She brings people meals when they may need it. She takes the time to think of what would be helpful for a friend or make them smile during a hard time, and she does whatever it is. She listens. She loves friendships where they both share and open up and can be real and genuine with each other. She goes out of her way for her friends.
Recently my mom reminded me that no matter what happens, our memories can never be taken from us. We will always have our memories. Of course my response was that even though I know that, what I really just want is more time. I want as many phone calls and long conversations with my mom that I can fit into a lifetime. I want my kids to have as many moments as they can share with their wonderful Nana. I want to rely on and give to the friendship I have with my mom for as long as humanly possible.
As I grow closer to my late thirties, I find myself more and more like my mother. My sister even teased me about that a while back. "You sound just like Mom!" What is pretty special, is that when someone says that, they mean it and I take it, as a compliment. I want to be the entertainer in my home that my mom is. I want to be as thoughtful and generous as my mom is. I want to be as good of a friend as Shirley is. I want to be the faithful, dedicated and supportive wife that my mom has always been to my Dad. I want the wisdom she has, the faith she has kept, and the self-discipline she displays. And I can only pray that one day, my daughters will say they have the same friendship with me that I have had with my own mother. What a privilege that would be.
My mom's life hasn't always been easy. The stories she can tell me of what she has gone through in her 70+ years are simply unbelievable. She has experienced more then one might assume. Even now she goes through more then most people probably realize due to health issues and chronic pain. But she always has a smile on her face. She will always say hello when she sees you and ask how you're doing. Her red hair will be what she is recognized by. Her kindness and warmth is what will draw you to her. She will always be a mother that supports, encourages and has faith in her children.
What a blessed life I have had to say that my mom has been and always will be, my best of friends. I couldn't be more proud to be her daughter. My hope is to make her that much more proud, to make her smile and laugh as much as I can, and to be here for her however she may need me. Always.
I love you, Mom.
~KM
1/16/2015
Thursday, January 8, 2015
My Greatest of Fears
Death really scares me.
Before you read on, I should give you fair warning that this post isn't filled with all the fluffy, feel-good thoughts and ideas about death that I should be saying as a Jesus follower. I'm not going to say things like "God always has a plan" and "I look forward to Eternity." Of course I believe all of that. I really do. I would be lost without my Faith and my Foundation. I believe everything God explains Heaven to be and the idea of Eternity and where I want my soul to end up when I leave this earth.
Today I want to talk about the ugly, cruel, scary reality of death. The thoughts that swim in my mind at times and consume my fear-driven thoughts.
There are so many different ways that death frightens me to my core. The fear of losing my own life, my husband passing before me, my parents growing older and the years going faster. Then there is the idea of anything happening to my children and that is more then I can bear. Death scares me.
My parents are older then most of my friends' parents and although that has had many benefits, there are some downsides to it too. My husbands' parents are in their 50's and yet my parents are in their 70's. Adam and I are only six months apart but this is something I have grown pretty used to...having older parents. My parents have never acted, looked or seemed older so that has been a huge blessing. They are the most active people I know. But lately, it feels like the signs they are growing "older" are becoming more obvious. Health issues are one way but the bigger issue that is making me think about it more is how their friends, their age, are either becoming ill or passing away. Just yesterday a friend of my parents' died of a heart attack almost instantly. Out of the blue. Sitting in the car waiting for her husband to come out of Fred Meyers. She was around my parents' age. She has a husband, children, grandchildren and friends who thought she was just fine one minute. And the next, her life was over. She is just...gone. It completely consumes me with fear. We talk about them with sympathy and sadness. And I think to myself...will this be me some day? Will people be talking about our family like this one day when one of my parents' passes away suddenly? God help me, I hope not. But, it could happen.
My dear friend lost her daughter at the age of 4 completely unexpectedly and in a wickedly, cruel way. That truly shook me to my core. It shook my faith, what I believed to be true all my life. For the first time, life made absolutely no sense to me whatsoever and neither did God and His plans. Why? Why do these horrific tragedies have to happen to our children? Vienne was beautiful inside and out and her parents adored her. Adored. There are so many children in the world who aren't loved...who are beaten and abused. Who are born into a life that doesn't give them a chance in this world. Not to say they should be chosen to die young...of course not. But if a child HAS to die, couldn't it be a child who would see death as a prize versus the life they live? Even as I type that though...what I have been taught creeps into my mind and I hear that small voice saying..."But isn't death a prize for any of us?" Yes. I know.
Ever since Vienne passed away, the understanding that something could, in fact, happen to my children has become very real. I could go to wake them up in the morning and find them no longer breathing. They could be in a car accident. I could be driving and survive and they couldn't. They could be shot while in their 1st grade classroom at school. Any number of things could happen. I don't know how I got through the first year of Sophie's (my youngest) life, to be honest. I think I checked the video monitor every other minute and slept with one eye open. Children should never die before their parents. Period.
But aren't we all children to someone? What about the children who pass before their parents but are in their 20's? 30's? 40's? What about those grieving parents? When I think about what my husband has gone through, losing his first wife to brain cancer, I also think about what her parents have gone through. Her family. Her friends. Her daughter...who is now my daughter as well. How did these people survive that? Yes, they knew it was coming and it wasn't as shocking perhaps as someone who loses a loved one out of the blue. But still, I'm confident to say the grief is just as strong. The pain is just as horrific. Where is the logic in who dies young and who lives to be 100? There could be a man who lives until his 99th birthday, who drank and smoke and ate fattening foods all his life. And then there can be a woman who gets brain cancer for no reason, out of the blue, while in college and struggles with it for the next many years. Who had a strong faith in God the Healer, who used her talents for His glory, who was loved and adored by many. Who had a husband and a daughter. And yet, she is taken. Truly, I can make no sense of that. I feel myself longing for a list of criteria for those that will live a long life and those that will die young. If only we knew.
I look at my husband, Adam, and in our 30's we feel fairly young and healthy. Sure, we need to lose weight and change our diet some. But generally we aren't at the age where we think about something happening to one of us. Except that I do. I think about something happening to him driving to work one day. I think about something happening to him when he boards a plane alone for a work trip. What would I do without him? What would my kids do? How would they survive that?
And finally, I worry about my own mortality. And that makes me instantly teary. Not because I value my life higher then the others I've mentioned. Oh no. The thought of something happening to me makes me cry because of what it would do to my family. How my husband would manage. How my kids would be affected. How heartbroken my parents would be. I can't stand the thought of it. I would never want to cause that kind of pain on anyone I love.
Death scares me. It seems unfair and cruel...random yet planned. The wake of death lingers forever in the lives of those who are left behind. I want my parents to live until forever. I want my kids to live full lives and die as old women in their sleep. I want Adam and I to die together, at the same time, once we have lived to 100. Ha. I want to avoid death at all costs, to every person I love. But we can't stop it, can we? We can't control it or dictate to it or convince it not to come.
So what do I do with all this fear? And how does my Faith play a part? Well...I don't really know to tell you the truth. I'm thankful I have the ability to not let the fear consume me. I may be protective of my kids, but I'm not unhealthy about it. They lead full lives and I don't wrap them in bubble wrap, so that is a start. I let my husband leave the house without me. I don't text or call my mom 47 times if a few hours go by and I don't hear from her. I attempt not to be a freak and pull it off most of the time.
What I do...is pray. I pray more. I pray for protection over my children and I pray for another day to be their mother here on this earth. I beg God, some days. But I also realize that as hard as I pray and as strong as my faith can be, that doesn't mean that my kids will outlive me like I want them to. I'm just not in control of that and I continue to try and accept that. I also pray for my parents' lives and health, my husbands' and anyone I care about. I talk to God about my fears and my desires for these precious people I hold dear.
You would think that with all this fear and thinking about death that I would be one of those people living each day to the fullest and singing Tim McGraw's "Live Like You Were Dying" song as if it were my anthem. "Live today as if it were your last day on earth." Right? Isn't that what people say? But do we really live like that? Or does every day, normal routine life get in the way of that? Before you know it, my thoughts and fears of death fade out by my dog annoyingly barking in the back yard at the neighbors and my almost 2 year old reaching her hand into the toilet. I'm distracted by my two older daughters arguing or singing at the top of their lungs, running around like maniacs and yelling at them to settle down. I'm sighing at my husband for not remembering to take out the garbage when it's overflowing or lecturing everyone to stop playing video games for so long. Or, I'm busy loving life and being happy. I'm singing with my kids and chasing my toddler around the house as she fills our home with the cutest giggles I have ever heard. I'm cracking up with my husband in bed watching some dumb tv show but really just watching him as he cries tears of laughter and falling in love with him even more. I'm texting with or talking to my mom and sharing those thoughts and feelings I can share with no one else and treasuring her friendship. I'm having coffee with a girlfriend and catching up on how she's really doing versus how everything appears on Facebook. I'm busy living life, right? That's what we do.
Death does scare me. When I think of anything happening to my parents, I will always start crying. I always have since I was young. When I think of anything happening to my husband, my heart will ache. When I think of something happening to my children, I will catch my breath and feel a surge of panic for a moment. But hopefully...after I do all those things and feel all those feelings...I will stop. I will pray for peace and acceptance of what I cannot change or control. And I will get back to living life. I may not be perfect at all my roles in this crazy life and I may not remember to always appreciate every moment of every day as if it were my last. But I'm living, I'm laughing, I'm loving others and I'm focusing on those I treasure. And all I can do is hope that when or if the day comes I am faced with my greatest of fears...that I will handle it with Hope, with Faith, and with Love. And in the meantime, I will keep on soaking in this life I have one precious moment at a time.
~KM
1/8/2015
Before you read on, I should give you fair warning that this post isn't filled with all the fluffy, feel-good thoughts and ideas about death that I should be saying as a Jesus follower. I'm not going to say things like "God always has a plan" and "I look forward to Eternity." Of course I believe all of that. I really do. I would be lost without my Faith and my Foundation. I believe everything God explains Heaven to be and the idea of Eternity and where I want my soul to end up when I leave this earth.
Today I want to talk about the ugly, cruel, scary reality of death. The thoughts that swim in my mind at times and consume my fear-driven thoughts.
There are so many different ways that death frightens me to my core. The fear of losing my own life, my husband passing before me, my parents growing older and the years going faster. Then there is the idea of anything happening to my children and that is more then I can bear. Death scares me.
My parents are older then most of my friends' parents and although that has had many benefits, there are some downsides to it too. My husbands' parents are in their 50's and yet my parents are in their 70's. Adam and I are only six months apart but this is something I have grown pretty used to...having older parents. My parents have never acted, looked or seemed older so that has been a huge blessing. They are the most active people I know. But lately, it feels like the signs they are growing "older" are becoming more obvious. Health issues are one way but the bigger issue that is making me think about it more is how their friends, their age, are either becoming ill or passing away. Just yesterday a friend of my parents' died of a heart attack almost instantly. Out of the blue. Sitting in the car waiting for her husband to come out of Fred Meyers. She was around my parents' age. She has a husband, children, grandchildren and friends who thought she was just fine one minute. And the next, her life was over. She is just...gone. It completely consumes me with fear. We talk about them with sympathy and sadness. And I think to myself...will this be me some day? Will people be talking about our family like this one day when one of my parents' passes away suddenly? God help me, I hope not. But, it could happen.
My dear friend lost her daughter at the age of 4 completely unexpectedly and in a wickedly, cruel way. That truly shook me to my core. It shook my faith, what I believed to be true all my life. For the first time, life made absolutely no sense to me whatsoever and neither did God and His plans. Why? Why do these horrific tragedies have to happen to our children? Vienne was beautiful inside and out and her parents adored her. Adored. There are so many children in the world who aren't loved...who are beaten and abused. Who are born into a life that doesn't give them a chance in this world. Not to say they should be chosen to die young...of course not. But if a child HAS to die, couldn't it be a child who would see death as a prize versus the life they live? Even as I type that though...what I have been taught creeps into my mind and I hear that small voice saying..."But isn't death a prize for any of us?" Yes. I know.
Ever since Vienne passed away, the understanding that something could, in fact, happen to my children has become very real. I could go to wake them up in the morning and find them no longer breathing. They could be in a car accident. I could be driving and survive and they couldn't. They could be shot while in their 1st grade classroom at school. Any number of things could happen. I don't know how I got through the first year of Sophie's (my youngest) life, to be honest. I think I checked the video monitor every other minute and slept with one eye open. Children should never die before their parents. Period.
But aren't we all children to someone? What about the children who pass before their parents but are in their 20's? 30's? 40's? What about those grieving parents? When I think about what my husband has gone through, losing his first wife to brain cancer, I also think about what her parents have gone through. Her family. Her friends. Her daughter...who is now my daughter as well. How did these people survive that? Yes, they knew it was coming and it wasn't as shocking perhaps as someone who loses a loved one out of the blue. But still, I'm confident to say the grief is just as strong. The pain is just as horrific. Where is the logic in who dies young and who lives to be 100? There could be a man who lives until his 99th birthday, who drank and smoke and ate fattening foods all his life. And then there can be a woman who gets brain cancer for no reason, out of the blue, while in college and struggles with it for the next many years. Who had a strong faith in God the Healer, who used her talents for His glory, who was loved and adored by many. Who had a husband and a daughter. And yet, she is taken. Truly, I can make no sense of that. I feel myself longing for a list of criteria for those that will live a long life and those that will die young. If only we knew.
I look at my husband, Adam, and in our 30's we feel fairly young and healthy. Sure, we need to lose weight and change our diet some. But generally we aren't at the age where we think about something happening to one of us. Except that I do. I think about something happening to him driving to work one day. I think about something happening to him when he boards a plane alone for a work trip. What would I do without him? What would my kids do? How would they survive that?
And finally, I worry about my own mortality. And that makes me instantly teary. Not because I value my life higher then the others I've mentioned. Oh no. The thought of something happening to me makes me cry because of what it would do to my family. How my husband would manage. How my kids would be affected. How heartbroken my parents would be. I can't stand the thought of it. I would never want to cause that kind of pain on anyone I love.
Death scares me. It seems unfair and cruel...random yet planned. The wake of death lingers forever in the lives of those who are left behind. I want my parents to live until forever. I want my kids to live full lives and die as old women in their sleep. I want Adam and I to die together, at the same time, once we have lived to 100. Ha. I want to avoid death at all costs, to every person I love. But we can't stop it, can we? We can't control it or dictate to it or convince it not to come.
So what do I do with all this fear? And how does my Faith play a part? Well...I don't really know to tell you the truth. I'm thankful I have the ability to not let the fear consume me. I may be protective of my kids, but I'm not unhealthy about it. They lead full lives and I don't wrap them in bubble wrap, so that is a start. I let my husband leave the house without me. I don't text or call my mom 47 times if a few hours go by and I don't hear from her. I attempt not to be a freak and pull it off most of the time.
What I do...is pray. I pray more. I pray for protection over my children and I pray for another day to be their mother here on this earth. I beg God, some days. But I also realize that as hard as I pray and as strong as my faith can be, that doesn't mean that my kids will outlive me like I want them to. I'm just not in control of that and I continue to try and accept that. I also pray for my parents' lives and health, my husbands' and anyone I care about. I talk to God about my fears and my desires for these precious people I hold dear.
You would think that with all this fear and thinking about death that I would be one of those people living each day to the fullest and singing Tim McGraw's "Live Like You Were Dying" song as if it were my anthem. "Live today as if it were your last day on earth." Right? Isn't that what people say? But do we really live like that? Or does every day, normal routine life get in the way of that? Before you know it, my thoughts and fears of death fade out by my dog annoyingly barking in the back yard at the neighbors and my almost 2 year old reaching her hand into the toilet. I'm distracted by my two older daughters arguing or singing at the top of their lungs, running around like maniacs and yelling at them to settle down. I'm sighing at my husband for not remembering to take out the garbage when it's overflowing or lecturing everyone to stop playing video games for so long. Or, I'm busy loving life and being happy. I'm singing with my kids and chasing my toddler around the house as she fills our home with the cutest giggles I have ever heard. I'm cracking up with my husband in bed watching some dumb tv show but really just watching him as he cries tears of laughter and falling in love with him even more. I'm texting with or talking to my mom and sharing those thoughts and feelings I can share with no one else and treasuring her friendship. I'm having coffee with a girlfriend and catching up on how she's really doing versus how everything appears on Facebook. I'm busy living life, right? That's what we do.
Death does scare me. When I think of anything happening to my parents, I will always start crying. I always have since I was young. When I think of anything happening to my husband, my heart will ache. When I think of something happening to my children, I will catch my breath and feel a surge of panic for a moment. But hopefully...after I do all those things and feel all those feelings...I will stop. I will pray for peace and acceptance of what I cannot change or control. And I will get back to living life. I may not be perfect at all my roles in this crazy life and I may not remember to always appreciate every moment of every day as if it were my last. But I'm living, I'm laughing, I'm loving others and I'm focusing on those I treasure. And all I can do is hope that when or if the day comes I am faced with my greatest of fears...that I will handle it with Hope, with Faith, and with Love. And in the meantime, I will keep on soaking in this life I have one precious moment at a time.
~KM
1/8/2015
Monday, January 5, 2015
The Start of a New Year
We all know that New Years' Day is the start of the New Year. But for me, it doesn't quite feel like a new year until I take my Christmas decorations down. This year, that day came this past weekend.
It always amazes me how quickly the decorations come down when it seemed to take so much longer to put them all up. Christmastime is my favorite time of the year, so I love keeping the decorations up until after January 1st. But when it comes time to take them down, I always feel ready.
As I was taking down our tree ornaments and packing boxes back up, I found myself reflecting on the year behind me and the year in front of me. It's a nice cleansing process of sorts, to clean up the mess and come back to our "normalcy". And when I'm finished and the house looks all put back together, it feels like a fresh start. Doesn't it? I love that feeling. A new year can now begin.
I don't know about you, but my past year has been filled with many blessings and a few trials. There have been people who have disappointed and hurt me. Financial struggles at times. Adam had his car broken into and then totaled in an accident all in one month! Parenting isn't always easy. Trees fell in our yard during various wind storms and caused damage. Family members have struggled with health issues. I've struggled with my weight. Relationships have been broken that may never heal again.
In comparison to others I know, these issues are minimal. Any struggle we have experienced, in the grand scheme of things, has been or could be fairly easily fixed. But still, the opportunity to start a new year... have the blessing of another fresh start...feels like such a treat. I can wipe the slate clean, in a sense, and make a choice of how I want this next year to start. What kind of attitude do I want to carry around with me in this new year? What kind of view do I want to approach situations with? What can I work on to improve myself this year? What kind of expectations do I want to put on others in my life?
I have learned that I tend to have high standards...both for myself and for others. If I'm thoughtful, I expect others to be thoughtful. If I'm generous or inviting, I expect the same in return. If I listen to others, genuinely care about them and try to show my love for them in various ways, I expect to be treated similarly. Now, I don't mean to say I do things or treat people in a way just to have it all given to me back in return. I do what I do and treat people how I do because I love them. Because I want to. But of course that human nature inside of us can tend to put hopes and expectations of others in our minds. Do you every find yourself filled with expectations of others that they never seem to meet? And when they let you down, as they are bound to do, how do you deal with the disappointment?
I admit, I haven't always dealt with disappointment very well. Growing up as a Christian, I have always been taught the lesson that all people will disappoint us. As humans, none of us can fill up another with the love they are seeking. That whatever I expect of my husband or family or friends, will not always be met. We all fail and we all fall short. I know I do. And although it's easier to see the ways that others could improve or change, it's necessary to focus more on how I can improve and change.
So with the start of this new year, here is our chance. Here's our chance to try harder. To set goals and make a plan on how to reach those goals. To become more of the person we are meant to be. To look inward more and judge others less. And yes, when people fail us and don't meet our hopes and expectations, figure out how to deal with it better and choose where to place our focus.
In any year, we can look back and focus on the struggles or we can lift up the ways we have grown. Last year I discovered my love of cooking and baking new things. I grew in my ability to host parties and dinners and truly enjoy it. I love having friends and family in my home and making them feel comfortable and welcome. I took over as Piano Teacher to my two older girls and they are thriving in their talent. I left my youngest for the first time. I weaned her. We got a dog. My husband took a leap of faith and started a new job after 12 years at his old one. We survived another year on a single income, which allows me the huge blessing of staying at home with my kids. My kids are healthy. My parents are well and incredibly involved in our lives. I've grown closer to certain family members. I've tried new things. My marriage grew stronger and deeper. I've prayed more. I realize that when I start listing my blessings and focusing on the positive, I could keep going and going. This list is much longer then my list of struggles.
So with this New Year, I am so excited to get started. Get started on my goals and start looking forward. I can't wait to grow as a mother, wife, daughter, sister and friend. It's scary sometimes to ask God to help us grow for fear of how far He will choose to stretch us. But this year, I'm asking. I want more patience. I want more joy in my day-to-day life. I want to turn off my mind and focus on the moment more. I want to surround myself with people that don't make me question their love. I want to grow in my Faith. I want to read the Bible more. I want to treasure my girls more. I want to find the courage to steal a night away with my husband and leave my precious baby girl. I want to be healthier. I want to be there for my family and friends. I want to be a better wife. I want to shine the light in me brighter that seems to have dimmed through life's challenges.
Most of all, I want to be able to end 2015 and look back on a year to be proud of. It probably won't be easy. There are bound to be challenges our way this year and situations we can't foresee. Does that scare me? Of course it does. It scares me more then I can even express. But I choose to trust. I choose to have faith. I choose to change my view and focus on the potential. On the positives. On the possibilities.
Happy New Year!
~KM
1/5/2015
It always amazes me how quickly the decorations come down when it seemed to take so much longer to put them all up. Christmastime is my favorite time of the year, so I love keeping the decorations up until after January 1st. But when it comes time to take them down, I always feel ready.
As I was taking down our tree ornaments and packing boxes back up, I found myself reflecting on the year behind me and the year in front of me. It's a nice cleansing process of sorts, to clean up the mess and come back to our "normalcy". And when I'm finished and the house looks all put back together, it feels like a fresh start. Doesn't it? I love that feeling. A new year can now begin.
I don't know about you, but my past year has been filled with many blessings and a few trials. There have been people who have disappointed and hurt me. Financial struggles at times. Adam had his car broken into and then totaled in an accident all in one month! Parenting isn't always easy. Trees fell in our yard during various wind storms and caused damage. Family members have struggled with health issues. I've struggled with my weight. Relationships have been broken that may never heal again.
In comparison to others I know, these issues are minimal. Any struggle we have experienced, in the grand scheme of things, has been or could be fairly easily fixed. But still, the opportunity to start a new year... have the blessing of another fresh start...feels like such a treat. I can wipe the slate clean, in a sense, and make a choice of how I want this next year to start. What kind of attitude do I want to carry around with me in this new year? What kind of view do I want to approach situations with? What can I work on to improve myself this year? What kind of expectations do I want to put on others in my life?
I have learned that I tend to have high standards...both for myself and for others. If I'm thoughtful, I expect others to be thoughtful. If I'm generous or inviting, I expect the same in return. If I listen to others, genuinely care about them and try to show my love for them in various ways, I expect to be treated similarly. Now, I don't mean to say I do things or treat people in a way just to have it all given to me back in return. I do what I do and treat people how I do because I love them. Because I want to. But of course that human nature inside of us can tend to put hopes and expectations of others in our minds. Do you every find yourself filled with expectations of others that they never seem to meet? And when they let you down, as they are bound to do, how do you deal with the disappointment?
I admit, I haven't always dealt with disappointment very well. Growing up as a Christian, I have always been taught the lesson that all people will disappoint us. As humans, none of us can fill up another with the love they are seeking. That whatever I expect of my husband or family or friends, will not always be met. We all fail and we all fall short. I know I do. And although it's easier to see the ways that others could improve or change, it's necessary to focus more on how I can improve and change.
So with the start of this new year, here is our chance. Here's our chance to try harder. To set goals and make a plan on how to reach those goals. To become more of the person we are meant to be. To look inward more and judge others less. And yes, when people fail us and don't meet our hopes and expectations, figure out how to deal with it better and choose where to place our focus.
In any year, we can look back and focus on the struggles or we can lift up the ways we have grown. Last year I discovered my love of cooking and baking new things. I grew in my ability to host parties and dinners and truly enjoy it. I love having friends and family in my home and making them feel comfortable and welcome. I took over as Piano Teacher to my two older girls and they are thriving in their talent. I left my youngest for the first time. I weaned her. We got a dog. My husband took a leap of faith and started a new job after 12 years at his old one. We survived another year on a single income, which allows me the huge blessing of staying at home with my kids. My kids are healthy. My parents are well and incredibly involved in our lives. I've grown closer to certain family members. I've tried new things. My marriage grew stronger and deeper. I've prayed more. I realize that when I start listing my blessings and focusing on the positive, I could keep going and going. This list is much longer then my list of struggles.
So with this New Year, I am so excited to get started. Get started on my goals and start looking forward. I can't wait to grow as a mother, wife, daughter, sister and friend. It's scary sometimes to ask God to help us grow for fear of how far He will choose to stretch us. But this year, I'm asking. I want more patience. I want more joy in my day-to-day life. I want to turn off my mind and focus on the moment more. I want to surround myself with people that don't make me question their love. I want to grow in my Faith. I want to read the Bible more. I want to treasure my girls more. I want to find the courage to steal a night away with my husband and leave my precious baby girl. I want to be healthier. I want to be there for my family and friends. I want to be a better wife. I want to shine the light in me brighter that seems to have dimmed through life's challenges.
Most of all, I want to be able to end 2015 and look back on a year to be proud of. It probably won't be easy. There are bound to be challenges our way this year and situations we can't foresee. Does that scare me? Of course it does. It scares me more then I can even express. But I choose to trust. I choose to have faith. I choose to change my view and focus on the potential. On the positives. On the possibilities.
Happy New Year!
~KM
1/5/2015
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