Oh my. I know I have that resolutions list from last January hidden around here somewhere...
Ah. Here it is.
Now it's time to see how I did... (oh, boy.)
Resolution #1: Listen to my children more – I try to appreciate how wonderful my children are, but I always feel like I could be doing more to really listen to them and know the marvelous individuals they are becoming. This is an ongoing resolution, but one that I’m looking forward to.
Grade: B
There's always room for improvement on this one, but I think I remembered this resolution at least monthly. Having listening as a goal helped me to be more open and accepting. More joy seeped in when I wasn't paying attention. (A nice side-benefit.)
Resolution #2: Make some Dough -- By the end of the year, I would really like to be able to bake bread consistently and well (with no bread machine.) I know it’s something that takes practice – I just haven’t been willing to endure the failure it will take to finally get it right. This is the year I will do it.
Grade: D+
I didn't make bread more than twice this year... and my in-laws got me a garage sale bread machine to use. Needless to say, I have taken the 'busy housewife' route of using frozen bread dough or take-n-bake bread. So, Julia Child I am not. I accept it and wipe this resolution from my list with a clear conscience.
Resolution #3: Get Moving – Everyone always starts their resolutions with diet and exercise. I am afraid I have been falling down on the job, or more accurately sitting down at the computer screen. The problem is, I really truly enjoy getting daily exercise. It makes me feel better about myself in too many ways to count. I just haven’t been real good at fitting it into my routine. I have to find a way to change that reality.
Grade: B+
This year, I made a point of staying active during the winter, and all summer long we swam at the pool. (Obviously, I felt good enough about my figure to spend that amount of time in a bathing suit, so that in itself is a mark of success -- or loss of shame?) Still, I asked for my gym membership back as a Christmas present, and Santa lovingly obliged. So, we'll kick it up a notch.
Resolution #4: Go West – We have a family goal of getting out West this year. We love camping and the mountains, but we haven’t taken our children very far west of the “Mighty Mississip”. This is the year we will change that.
Grade:C+ [Due to assignment change -- extension given until 2011]
We traveled so much this year, including a 20-day grand tour of the Eastern-Seaboard in late summer and another 10-day trip at Thanksgiving. Needless to say, we get an "A for effort", even if our year was more Amber Waves of Grain than Purple Mountain Majesty. (Plus, there's always next year.)
Resolution #5: Work on my Sisterhood – On Midwest Moms, I have talked about the amazing support network I feel whenever I turn to other Moms for help or advice. “The Sisterhood of Moms” has been such a blessing to me. But one thing I have to work on is regularly including my own sisters in my friend network. We live in different parts of the country, and it can be difficult to keep in touch. This year I don’t want distance to be an excuse.
Grade: A+
I'm happy about renewing my friendship with both of my sisters, including *actually* seeing them and visiting their homes with my family. It may not seem like a big deal to some, but sharing the same space with my sisters for a while sure was an important part of my year.
Overall: B- (On the Michigan scale -- not too shabby.)
And now I can start to think about 2010. (oh, boy.)
- Midwest Mom
Showing posts with label sisters. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sisters. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Thursday, May 7, 2009
The Deep Well of Motherhood
What is the source of a Mother's courage? Of her strength? They come from somewhere deep inside all of us. They come from the care and support we give to each other. They exist without intention or recognition; we do what we do simply because we are Mothers.
When a new Mother is expecting, she waits and dreams about the future. She wonders and worries if her baby will be healthy and whether she will be any good at the monumental task of mothering. Facing feelings of fear and choosing to educate oneself in response are acts of courage, the first signs of what is to come. We watch every bite of food and drink that passes our lips, forgoing medicine because of its effect on the baby, shifting our focus from our self as one person to two as we metamorphose into Mothers. We are tested to relinquish control and to trust in new ways as our bodies grow and change.
Once our children are born, we grow with them, teaching and tending. Their victories make our hearts leap and their challenges gnaw at the pit of our stomachs. We carefully foster our child's sense of self, allowing her to experience the world in its variety. We learn to step aside, to allow our child to bask in success without having to share the spotlight. We learn to let go, to let our child fail or succeed all by himself, so that he can own his achievement. We pick up our little girl and dust her off and set her on her way again, knowing that in doing so we empower her to do the same for herself down the road. We listen, we advise, we enrich. It is the mission of Motherhood, our calling, our vocation.
At the beginning of the journey, the first test of our Mother's courage, we face the unknowns of labor and care for our newborn child. Sometimes, we face much more. My husband's cousin was diagnosed with breast cancer while her youngest son was in the womb. She delayed treatment until she could be assured her baby would be safe from its effects. Her son never knew his mother without cancer, and although her battle ended when he was only five years old, she would not have changed her decision to bring her vibrant, healthy boy into this world whole. That is bravery, sacrifice, strength.
Many Mothers dream of adopting and patiently wait, enduring the scrutiny of strangers and repeated disappointments so they can give a child a loving home. They nurture their adopted children in a way the circumstance of birth would have made otherwise impossible. Often, they rescue and give children who have been abused, mistreated, or neglected the gifts of acceptance and love. Adoptive mothers are courageous volunteers, displaying a brand of dedication all their own.
The courage of a mother can reveal itself in the face of loss, when we lose a child whom we have not even been blessed to know. Mothers don't like to talk about the pain of miscarriage, but it remains even years later. I can testify to the truth of that. But we do not let it beat us; we face that pain and move forward. After my own miscarriage, my spirit was crushed under the weight of a sadness so profound it is difficult to describe. In time, I became pregnant again and gave birth to my second son. I was so grateful for another chance, another child to love. He was my miracle. Only later did my husband admit that he considered the way I carried him and loved him and was renewed by him an act of courage. I never thought of it that way. I was just his Mother.
Mothers often have to hear life's most difficult truths from the mouth of a doctor. Our child may have Downs Syndrome or Autism; she has suffered a stroke; he has a seizure disorder. A doctor informs us that our daughter or son will not walk or talk or eat or learn the same way as other children. And though the truth of that shatters a part of every mother's dreams for her child, we gather ourselves up and move forward. We patiently teach, we become unpaid speech therapists and pediatric nurses. My sister spent seven years of her son's life sleeping on a chair in his hospital room and could put in an IV when no nurse on the floor could. Mothers can be the best, most courageous advocates and the foremost experts on their child's condition. Mothers of the sick are, to my mind, some of the most self-sacrificing courageous creatures ever created on this Earth. Yet, if you admire their endurance and strength, often they will shrug it off as nothing special. It is special.
Mothers give and derive strength from our networks of support. We help guide each other, we listen to each other, we appreciate each other. What is it about Mothers that makes it possible -- despite the chaotic nature of our own lives -- when another mom is in trouble, to respond without question? When my young nephew passed away, my girlfriends set aside their own schedules to cook for my husband and the boys, to babysit when needed, so I could fly across the country with my infant daughter for his funeral. Those girls, my fellow moms, were a part and source of my strength. They eased my burden and made it possible for me to comfort my sister, a mom facing what no mother should ever have to.
But even when the situation is not difficult, but everyday, Mothers are courageous. Single mothers bravely balance work and their child's care, never letting hard work or a hard life make them hard individuals. We need to recognize the difficulty of what single moms do, with little or no backup. It is, in my mind, superhuman.
Elderly mothers, our grandmothers, can face pain, illness, and loneliness while their children live their busy lives. We should honor them and support them. We should visit them and send them cards that say, THANK YOU for being the amazing woman you are. My own grandmother has a brilliant sense of humor and a full, throaty laugh. She is an artist and taught me how to cook. She is a vibrant woman who has lived a full, courageous life, surviving the Depression and war, loss of siblings, children, husband. She deserves honor and love and care.
And my own mother, who has so often faced trouble with a quiet, prayerful faith that leaves me in awe of her stillness, has a reserve that I will never possess -- a grace that should be cherished. Her three daughters are all mothers now, and she helps us and listens to us and guides us to make our best decisions. She takes care of her health meticulously, which takes some measure of inner strength. For a year, she has endured Graves Disease without allowing it to shatter her sense of purpose or self. She is my unwavering friend. She does not just have strength, she embodies it.
There is no Mom I know, no family I know, who has had an entirely easy life. That's not what life or Motherhood is or is meant to be. Instead, Motherhood contains unspeakable joys and the deepest sorrows. It tests the core of who we are. It defines us in many ways. It changes us.
When I am honest about my own mothering, I must admit that I fail as often as I succeed. I am not as patient as I should be. I am temperamental. Sometimes the effort to deal with a situation creatively proves too much for me. But no Mother is the perfect Mother. I believe learning from my failures is a part of the journey. Facing my weaknesses and trying to do better next time is a part of the process. Continually learning what I can to be a better parent, accepting that I sometimes need help, taking time to reset and recharge, all help me to be a better Mother -- not perfect, but better.
Sometimes, I have to dig down for the strength to begin again.
Fortunately for me, the well of Motherhood is deep. From it, I can draw strength and endurance and courage. From the example of the women around me, the other mothers who are a part of my life, I can find renewal.
Maybe that's why I am taking the time to appreciate the power and wonder and courage of Mothers and of Motherhood itself today. With Mother's Day on the horizon, it seems like the perfect time.
To my fellow Moms, I wish you warmth and joy and continued strength in the coming year. Thank you for all you do, and Happy Mother's Day.
- Midwest Mom
When a new Mother is expecting, she waits and dreams about the future. She wonders and worries if her baby will be healthy and whether she will be any good at the monumental task of mothering. Facing feelings of fear and choosing to educate oneself in response are acts of courage, the first signs of what is to come. We watch every bite of food and drink that passes our lips, forgoing medicine because of its effect on the baby, shifting our focus from our self as one person to two as we metamorphose into Mothers. We are tested to relinquish control and to trust in new ways as our bodies grow and change.
Once our children are born, we grow with them, teaching and tending. Their victories make our hearts leap and their challenges gnaw at the pit of our stomachs. We carefully foster our child's sense of self, allowing her to experience the world in its variety. We learn to step aside, to allow our child to bask in success without having to share the spotlight. We learn to let go, to let our child fail or succeed all by himself, so that he can own his achievement. We pick up our little girl and dust her off and set her on her way again, knowing that in doing so we empower her to do the same for herself down the road. We listen, we advise, we enrich. It is the mission of Motherhood, our calling, our vocation.
At the beginning of the journey, the first test of our Mother's courage, we face the unknowns of labor and care for our newborn child. Sometimes, we face much more. My husband's cousin was diagnosed with breast cancer while her youngest son was in the womb. She delayed treatment until she could be assured her baby would be safe from its effects. Her son never knew his mother without cancer, and although her battle ended when he was only five years old, she would not have changed her decision to bring her vibrant, healthy boy into this world whole. That is bravery, sacrifice, strength.
Many Mothers dream of adopting and patiently wait, enduring the scrutiny of strangers and repeated disappointments so they can give a child a loving home. They nurture their adopted children in a way the circumstance of birth would have made otherwise impossible. Often, they rescue and give children who have been abused, mistreated, or neglected the gifts of acceptance and love. Adoptive mothers are courageous volunteers, displaying a brand of dedication all their own.
The courage of a mother can reveal itself in the face of loss, when we lose a child whom we have not even been blessed to know. Mothers don't like to talk about the pain of miscarriage, but it remains even years later. I can testify to the truth of that. But we do not let it beat us; we face that pain and move forward. After my own miscarriage, my spirit was crushed under the weight of a sadness so profound it is difficult to describe. In time, I became pregnant again and gave birth to my second son. I was so grateful for another chance, another child to love. He was my miracle. Only later did my husband admit that he considered the way I carried him and loved him and was renewed by him an act of courage. I never thought of it that way. I was just his Mother.
Mothers often have to hear life's most difficult truths from the mouth of a doctor. Our child may have Downs Syndrome or Autism; she has suffered a stroke; he has a seizure disorder. A doctor informs us that our daughter or son will not walk or talk or eat or learn the same way as other children. And though the truth of that shatters a part of every mother's dreams for her child, we gather ourselves up and move forward. We patiently teach, we become unpaid speech therapists and pediatric nurses. My sister spent seven years of her son's life sleeping on a chair in his hospital room and could put in an IV when no nurse on the floor could. Mothers can be the best, most courageous advocates and the foremost experts on their child's condition. Mothers of the sick are, to my mind, some of the most self-sacrificing courageous creatures ever created on this Earth. Yet, if you admire their endurance and strength, often they will shrug it off as nothing special. It is special.
Mothers give and derive strength from our networks of support. We help guide each other, we listen to each other, we appreciate each other. What is it about Mothers that makes it possible -- despite the chaotic nature of our own lives -- when another mom is in trouble, to respond without question? When my young nephew passed away, my girlfriends set aside their own schedules to cook for my husband and the boys, to babysit when needed, so I could fly across the country with my infant daughter for his funeral. Those girls, my fellow moms, were a part and source of my strength. They eased my burden and made it possible for me to comfort my sister, a mom facing what no mother should ever have to.
But even when the situation is not difficult, but everyday, Mothers are courageous. Single mothers bravely balance work and their child's care, never letting hard work or a hard life make them hard individuals. We need to recognize the difficulty of what single moms do, with little or no backup. It is, in my mind, superhuman.
Elderly mothers, our grandmothers, can face pain, illness, and loneliness while their children live their busy lives. We should honor them and support them. We should visit them and send them cards that say, THANK YOU for being the amazing woman you are. My own grandmother has a brilliant sense of humor and a full, throaty laugh. She is an artist and taught me how to cook. She is a vibrant woman who has lived a full, courageous life, surviving the Depression and war, loss of siblings, children, husband. She deserves honor and love and care.
And my own mother, who has so often faced trouble with a quiet, prayerful faith that leaves me in awe of her stillness, has a reserve that I will never possess -- a grace that should be cherished. Her three daughters are all mothers now, and she helps us and listens to us and guides us to make our best decisions. She takes care of her health meticulously, which takes some measure of inner strength. For a year, she has endured Graves Disease without allowing it to shatter her sense of purpose or self. She is my unwavering friend. She does not just have strength, she embodies it.
There is no Mom I know, no family I know, who has had an entirely easy life. That's not what life or Motherhood is or is meant to be. Instead, Motherhood contains unspeakable joys and the deepest sorrows. It tests the core of who we are. It defines us in many ways. It changes us.
When I am honest about my own mothering, I must admit that I fail as often as I succeed. I am not as patient as I should be. I am temperamental. Sometimes the effort to deal with a situation creatively proves too much for me. But no Mother is the perfect Mother. I believe learning from my failures is a part of the journey. Facing my weaknesses and trying to do better next time is a part of the process. Continually learning what I can to be a better parent, accepting that I sometimes need help, taking time to reset and recharge, all help me to be a better Mother -- not perfect, but better.
Sometimes, I have to dig down for the strength to begin again.
Fortunately for me, the well of Motherhood is deep. From it, I can draw strength and endurance and courage. From the example of the women around me, the other mothers who are a part of my life, I can find renewal.
Maybe that's why I am taking the time to appreciate the power and wonder and courage of Mothers and of Motherhood itself today. With Mother's Day on the horizon, it seems like the perfect time.
To my fellow Moms, I wish you warmth and joy and continued strength in the coming year. Thank you for all you do, and Happy Mother's Day.
- Midwest Mom
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Here comes 2009! Resolutions checklist
As we welcome 2009, I have a few goals for the new year.
Listen to my children more – I try to appreciate how wonderful my children are, but I always feel like I could be doing more to really listen to them and know the marvelous individuals they are becoming. This is an ongoing resolution, but one that I’m looking forward to.
Make some Dough -- By the end of the year, I would really like to be able to bake bread consistently and well (with no bread machine.) I know it’s something that takes practice – I just haven’t been willing to endure the failure it will take to finally get it right. This is the year I will do it.
Get Moving – Everyone always starts their resolutions with diet and exercise. I am afraid I have been falling down on the job, or more accurately sitting down at the computer screen. The problem is, I really truly enjoy getting daily exercise. It makes me feel better about myself in too many ways to count. I just haven’t been real good at fitting it into my routine. I have to find a way to change that reality.
Go West – We have a family goal of getting out West this year. We love camping and the mountains, but we haven’t taken our children very far west of the “Mighty Mississip”. This is the year we will change that.
Work on my Sisterhood – On Midwest Moms, I have talked about the amazing support network I feel whenever I turn to other Moms for help or advice. “The Sisterhood of Moms” has been such a blessing to me. But one thing I have to work on is regularly including my own sisters in my friend network. We live in different parts of the country, and it can be difficult to keep in touch. This year I don’t want distance to be an excuse.
That’s it for this year. I hope by next December, I will be able to say that I listened to my beautiful children while baking perfect rolls for Christmas after taking a three-mile walk in Utah with my sisters. (You never know… It could happen.)
I hope you and yours have a very Happy New Year!
- Midwest Mom
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Getting in the Christmas Spirit... Finally!
Have yourself a merry little Christmas, let your heart be light.
From now on, our troubles will be out of sight.
- Hugh Martin
Last year, I had such a tough time getting in the holiday spirit. There were dozens of things tugging at me constantly, keeping me so busy that I felt like I was playing catch-up throughout the month of December.
I called my sister in New Hampshire. (She is my lifeguard whenever I get swamped by motherhood.)
I confessed that I was having trouble really "feeling" the Christmas spirit for the first time I could remember. She understood, to say the least.
My sister's son, my beautiful nephew, passed away almost three years ago. So, for her, the holidays have become a time for reflection and tenderness and quiet with her family rather than a blaring extravaganza of Christmas trappings.
With characteristic selflessness and practicality, she gave me some insight.
"What is getting in the way for you?"
Feeling ashamed at burdening her with my problem, I talked about how stressed I felt and started to list all the things I needed to do -- the baking, the cards, the events, the obligations. She gently informed me that those things had nothing to do with Christmas.
"Don't do them," I heard her say. "What?" I replied.
Don't do them.
Sometimes as a mom, I feel like I'm at my most successful when I'm busy. I justify staying home by having that conversation with my husband that starts with him asking, "so what did you do today?" I always want to have something big to say in response. It's usually a litany.
But, last year, in that small conversation, my sister pointed out so clearly that the business of the season, the thousands of tiny things I felt I needed to do to make my family's Christmas happen, were actually taking me farther and farther away from understanding what Christmas itself is all about.
I have tried to take her words to heart. I have simplified this year. It hasn't been easy.
But is has made a difference.
This year, my husband and I have done more together, with less rush than before. We are doing less shopping for gifts but more giving -- especially to those who really need it. We are spending more time talking about the true meaning of Christmas. We are laughing more, playing more with the children, singing more, saying more thank-yous, praying more. We are able to be more gentle to each other and more flexible with the schedule.
I am so grateful for the change.
So, this year, Christmas has become more than the decorations and goodies and wrapped boxes. Something has opened my eyes and heart to the joy of the season in a different way.
And so I need to say 'Thank you' to my beautiful, thoughtful sister who was kind enough to share her hard-fought wisdom with me when I really needed it.
I don't know how to show you how grateful I am, or how much I love you.
So, maybe I'll just say that I am so glad that God gave you to me to be my sister. It was undoubtedly one of the best presents I've ever been given.
- Midwest Mom
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