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I love my kids. With the fiercest love of a mother who has dreamt of having a big, loud, loved filled home with kids that have built in friends. And while I love these kids more than anything, yesterday and, to be honest, quite a few days over the summer, I reached a point where I was tapped out for the day. Tired of "mom watch, mom watch, mom watch" where "mom watch" = mom, watch me take one step to the right, or walk in a straight line. Tired of their imaginations that I am truly grateful they have but that spins endless stories that make so little sense. Tired of playing "restaurant" during lunch time where I am always the "cook-er" and waitress, or school where I am always the teacher to have to listen to everyone's projects. And when I am tired of all of these things, I feel a mountain sized amount of mom guilt. I really want them to be proud of new skills they learn - even walking in a straight line - and want me to see. I want them to have a huge imagination that can spin stories with developed plot and creative characters. I want them to want to include me in so much of their lives, even if I am "the cook-er". So how come watching them do these things can be so infuriating? It could be a number of things. I'm still stressed from quitting my job and dealing with all of those feelings to taking on others, even my kids', is a lot. I'm worried we are wasting our summer with so few plans that I'm desperately trying to think of something to do with the kids when they are showing me these things. Maybe they are just so much like me that having so much "me" in the room is exhausting. Or, honestly, I might just be hungry.  It would be great if the thing I learned was, don't feel mom guilt. But that is something I am still working on. Instead, the thing I did learn was that while I felt guilty about feeling this way, sometimes a few extra snuggles help remind you why you go through the hard times. Snuggles can be therapeutic and a great way to get perspective. A chance to realize all of the likely reasons for feeling tapped (too much on my mind, hungry, not feeling like I am doing enough) instead of the wrong reasons (I am a bad mom). So, take a minute. By yourself or with your baby girl in your arms, and breathe in the truth.
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Do your kids ever ask to play with something and you say no but you’re not 100% sure why? That’s me with the Instax camera. Which essentially is just an updated version of the Polaroid cameras from when we were young. I bought the camera (Facebook Marketplace FTW) for my oldest daughter's Pokémon themed 6th birthday party so we could do a little photo booth area. It worked great for the party and then we didn’t use it again because the film ain’t cheap. That was in April...of 2018. I brought the camera back up last week for a project I was working on and forgot to put it back so when my kids saw a hot pink object on my dresser, it was like a moth to a flame. They, of course, asked to use it and I said no - again, the film is on the expensive side and, to be honest, I didn’t really feel like monitoring things to make sure everyone got a chance to use it. A few hours later though I thought about it some more. What was the point of it sitting in the box in the basement going unused? If I was only going to use it one time, why did I even buy it? So I changed my mind and let them each take a couple of pictures. And wow am I glad I did. In the lot of pictures there was one of grass, a couple with people not camera ready, a “we’re not sure when we’re supposed to smile” picture and then this one.  A moment of joy captured on a Polaroid camera that was from shear luck. In a world that doesn’t print nearly as many pictures as we used to, I know this will be treasured for a long, long time.
I’m out of film for now, but the thing I've learned is that the $10 or whatever it is to refill the camera has been proven to be worth it.  Call me old fashioned but I love the idea of a recipe being passed down through generations. A card or piece of paper that in 50 years has worn edges, faded words and memories of sweet scents from years and years of baking together as a family. Something my kids and grandkids will want to hold onto for their own kids. I think this may be that recipe :) These Banana Muffins are simple, made with coconut oil instead of butter and are all devoured by my family within 24 hours of baking them. I hope your family enjoys them as much as mine does!  Banana Muffins Ingredients: 2 C. all-purpose flour 1 tsp. baking soda ¼ tsp. salt ½ tsp. cinnamon ½ C. coconut oil ¾ C. brown sugar 2 eggs, beaten 2 ⅔ C. mashed ripe bananas (4-5 ripe bananas) 1 tsp. vanilla extract Directions:
 I feel like delivering a baby is one of those, you don't know what you don't know kind of situations. Here's what I didn't know and the things I learned: 
  Kids are honest. Sometimes brutally honest. And, if I’M being honest, my body does not look like it used to. Five kids, a busy career and a love of food (I mean, have you TRIED cake??) have added a few pounds on the scale and more than a few inches in the waist. I see it every day when I look in the mirror but recently, it drew the attention of my 5 year old. Completely innocently he made a comment inquiring about my stomach and why it was so big. He knows we aren’t having anymore kids (we are CLOSED permanently!!) so why did my stomach still look like there could be a baby on the way. Out of a bit of frustration I said, “yeah, that’s not really the kind of thing to make me feel great about myself” and went upstairs to put his sisters down for bed.
I didn’t know how to handle this. I am terrified that my kids will have similar body issues that I have and I desperately do not want that. I still didn’t know what I wanted to say when I got back downstairs or even the next morning. But the following night I decided I needed to say something, anything, to show them that we can love our bodies. So before bed I asked my two oldest kids to stay up for an extra minute (they were the ones that heard my initial frustration and also, kids never say no to staying up an extra minute) so we could talk. I reminded them of the incident the day before and then told them to poke my stomach. I asked them if it was squishy, soft, jiggly. Yes, yes and yes. And then I said, “do you know why I love this body? This squishy, soft, jiggly body?” And seriously, leave it to my 7 year old to reply with, “because God made us all different and that’s the way he likes it.” ← what did I do to deserve her and her sweet, God loving heart??? I proudly responded yes, she was absolutely right and that also, I carried her, her brother and their three younger sisters in my belly and that is amazing. And sometimes our body doesn’t quite go back to how it was before. Then I pulled up my shirt a bit to reveal stretch marks. Stretch marks that they have very rarely seen. And I explained to them that they came from my body growing them inside of me and stretching to make room. I also made sure to emphasize that being able to carry all five of them myself was a huge honor and blessing. It is not lost to me the incredible gift it is to conceive and carry 5 babies to term and if stretch marks and a fat ass (said lovingly as a reference to my FAVORITE movie, Legally Blonde) is the way to pay for that, I would pay it a million times over. The kids seemed to understand and afterwards we talked about things we loved about our body and they happily went to bed. Later Andre said he was happy to hear that I loved my body since I normally say the opposite. But I do feel the opposite of what I said. I look in the mirror and see the extra weight, stretch marks, more than one chin and it makes me sad that I don’t have a body I love. But I also firmly believe that if I keep telling myself I love my body, my heart and mind will eventually come around. Last month I resigned from my teaching job of six years. I loved my job and the students I taught, but the one hour, one way commute with four kids in the car and leaving home at 5:30am not to return until 5:00pm had become too taxing physically and mentally. So, for the first time ever since the birth of my first child 7 years ago, I am going to stay home. I may pick up odd jobs here and there but I will not be reporting to work everyday where I need to dress up/wear a uniform. While the community where I taught was sad to see me go, they understood my desire to do what was best for me and my family and supported me - it is such an incredible community! However, a conversation I had with a colleague, who I would only describe as an acquaintance (I never worked with her, only saw her on rare occasions), included a phrase that really struck me. “It’s so great that you’ll get to stay home and start raising your kids.” “It’s so great that you’ll get to stay home and start raising your kids.” I’ve been RAISING MY KIDS since they were born. I am their mother when I am at work and when I am not at work. Am I excited to be able to spend more time with them during the day? Absolutely. But in no way did my time away to work mean I wasn’t raising them. I taught them to be respectful which they demonstrate when we are out in public, at church, at school or in day care. I taught them to clean up after themselves and to help others who may not be able to. I’ve taught them a love of music they demonstrate when I am, or am not, home. I HAVE been raising them and will continue to do so in this year off and in the future when I start to work again.  I truly believe I was a better mom for those 7 years because I worked. It made going home to them even more special and at the same time, I got to use my God given talents to enrich the lives of others. It didn’t come without it stresses or late nights, but it was something I knew I was good at and showed my kids that I followed my dream through a college education that led me to a fulfilling job. And that is exactly what I want for them.
This colleague then went onto say that she stayed home for 20 years and her children are good members of society that don’t live on welfare…*insert biggest eye roll ever* For me, teaching is what I had to do to make money to provide my kids with opportunities and safety, and what I had to do to feel more confident in myself. This year will bring challenges but I am excited to CONTINUE to raise my kids, not start it for the first time.  During the summer it feels like I am pretty much running a daycare. I just happen to be related to all of the kids :) And what I’ve found over the past few summers off is that while I don’t necessarily need every second of our days planned out, it helps to have a schedule to refer to on days that we have no outside plans. On our schedule I include snack times (noted with green so even my kids that can't read can get an idea as to where food falls in their day), reading time, outside/inside play, crafting and baking time, lunch, rest and even when they can expect dad home. Each time is written out with an analog image next to it so they can compare the image to the clock above where the schedule is posted.
To make this, I used Microsoft Excel and just googled "analog" + the time I needed. My 7 year old is the only one that can actually tell time on the analog clock but my 5 year old has started to be able to compare the image on the schedule to the clock so hopefully that will help him when he starts learning how to tell time!  Besides nap time (because it's when I finally get a break!!) activity book time is my favorite. Especially when they help each other :) With this schedule I've learned two things: schedules are great for days you don't have big plans and for children that like to know what to expect from their day. And at the same time, I've learned I need to be able to let go of the schedule sometimes and be okay with that. I've included the excel file below in case you are interested in making your own summer schedule :) 
 **I wrote this post a year ago, before officially starting the blog. But the feels I get while rereading it are still VERY relevant to my life right now** Today was a fail. And it started off so strong which makes the fail hurt even more. We started the day with pancakes for breakfast and quickly got out the door to meet some friends to go to a free local farm/zoo thing. It has a few cows, goats, chickens, bunnies, pigs and ducks and while it’s definitely not hours of fun, it was a gorgeous morning and we got there before a huge surge of people came later in the morning. Everyone was well behaved, listened (for the most part) and I got to have an actual conversation with one of my best mom friends and it just felt so. good. After the farm, we walked up a hill to the park. A new park for my kids that included a metal fire truck which instantly brought me back to visiting my grandma and grandpa in Chicago and the park that was just down the street from their house. When I saw R enjoying it my heart almost burst. So M is walking around, L is climbing on this rock thing, R is loving the fire truck and E…well E is on the playground but walking slowly. I ain’t stupid. I know she peed in her underwear (oh, I forgot to mention, we are knee deep in potty training with very inconsistent success) so I ask her to come over to me. I’m planning my strategy as she comes over – I have a size 5 diaper in the diaper bag and I can just slip the underwear off, put the diaper on and throw the wet underwear into the bottom of the stroller for now. When she gets closer she begins to whine a bit which leads me to feel at the back of the underwear where, yep, I discover she NOT ONLY peed but also pooped. In her underwear. While we were in public. This is the SECOND time in 3 days that she’s pooped in her underwear and I wasn’t prepared for it the first time (although I had our own bathroom to change her) and I definitely was not prepared for it when it happened at the freaking park. So M, E and I head over to the stroller and I just thank my lucky stars that I am with a rockstar mom who just knows I need help and she watches L and R. Upon getting to the stroller, E has now decided this underwear must come off. So I lay her down and try to come up with a game plan but that was pointless. She pretty much takes it off herself and I am left with dirty underwear, poop on the grass, poop on my hands, a crying 2 year old and a curious 1 year old who must see what is happening. I cannot do this. I am saying every curse word I know in my head praying none of them slip and are said out-loud (they aren’t) and I just wipe and wipe and wipe until she is clean enough to finish the playdate. And since we are at the park, I can only use wipes to clean my own hands so I basically want to vomit everywhere. After another 10 minutes or so we decided to leave, say goodbye to our friends and head home…where now I am tasked with making sure E is actually cleaned up, make lunch but first wash my hands 7 times. I was a terrible mom in the hour and a half between the time we got home and nap time. I thought nap time would help me calm down (a little snack and How I Met Your Mother season 1) but L and R came down 4, yes FOUR, times for various reasons which made it less relaxing. STILL determined to turn the day around, I decided we would go outside. If we got outside at 4, it would just be a little less than an hour and a half until Andre got home and he could take over. I got the two youngest in their swim diapers, filled the water table, set up the sprinkler and sat down, only to get about 30 minutes through our outside time before R wanted to go inside, M wanted in but also out of the Little Tikes car, L wanted to change her clothes after getting them soaked (she was told we were using the sprinkler!!!) and E screamed/cried every time a fly or something reminiscent of a fly, came near her. So with just 20 minutes until Andre would be home and save me from this chaos, we had to pack things up and go inside where I got swim diapers off and helped peel off wet clothes. Which leads me to this post. I tried to get it together to spend this time with my kids and my husband but luckily Andre knew I needed a break and told me to take one and this is what I am doing with it. Writing down the details of our, what should have been great but turned to literal crap, day so I can later remember the things I learned: some days just suck. There’s no sense in trying to enjoy it right now because besides actual adult conversation earlier in the day, it was no fun at all. Do all days suck, nope. Do some…  |
Hi, I'm RebeccaI’m a wife, mom to 5 kids, former choir teacher, Christian and advice giver? I can honestly say I never expected to be the one giving advice when I so frequently ask for it, but the advice I’ve received is so valuable and must be shared! Here are some of the things I’ve learned so far! Archives
April 2020
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