What would you trade your life for?

Sometimes I think we lose focus on what really matters. I do it all the time. We complain about sleepless nights. We complain about throw up bowls, and better yet, throw up in the carpet and seams of the chair. We complain about kids not doing their chores, having to drive kids around and having to remind them to say thank you before they trot off with their friends to have fun without us. We complain about stretch marks, fat thighs, saggy tops, and wrinkles caused by those sleepless nights...

but if we allow ourselves to sit back in the exhaustion and stop and look, it all becomes very clear. Would we change a thing? Would we give up these precious people for a good night's sleep, white carpet, or a full tank of gas? I wouldn't. When it all comes down to it, when the day is over, when we are sitting in a quiet house with no sticky fingerprints on the glass door, we will remember that this is why we do and did everything. For the relationships we have and will have until we are laying on our death bed and breathe our last breath. This is all that matters.

I was remembering the other day what 20 years can look like and how fast it can go. I would never trade sitting with my little one on my lap, smelling the top of their chubby, hot little head, having those big eyes look at me as if I am not flawed, but beautiful. To have them know the moment they are born that I am their mommy. No one else will do. I have such mixed emotions these days. Being the mother of a 20 year old and a 4 year old and all those inbetween. I am exhausted most days, but I go to bed realizing that there are children that are mine out in this big world, and I am not there to tuck them into their beds, or kiss their owies, or wipe their tears from their faces. I can't protect them like I use to. I feel sad and partially empty. And then, someone calls me from the next room because they need a drink before they can close their little eyes and sleep, and I feel frustrated rather than grateful that I have another day to do this, another day to have someone need me in these ways.

The thing I hate the most about my parenting is when I hear myself saying, "in a minute." The truth is is that those minutes go by so fast, and soon they won't want or need me to play with them. They will be looking for other things in life, like some of my precious girls are already doing. I can't make time stop. I don't want it to stop because each new phase is so amazing in itself. But I don't want to forget either. I don't want to forget how fast it goes, how gloriously exhausting it can be to sit by a little one's bed all night and when they wake up to see they are relieved I am still there, how soft their pudgy little fingers are or use to be. I can't forget that I am blessed. That God chose ME to be their mommy because He knew, that in Him, I was up for the task. I don't want to forget I can hold on and let go at the same time. I don't want to forget that my failures and accomplishments are all mixed together to make me the mother I am. These are the people and the things that made me who I am. This is my life. I wouldn't trade it for anything.

Otter Pop and Toy Stands

Oh the precious memories of summer. Today Amanda was having a lemonade stand on the corner with all kinds of stuff. Ian really wanted to be with her, but she was with her friend. They wanted time to do their own thing. They are 12. Ian was up early trying to find treasures to sell. So, I let him have an otter pop/toy sale. Here they are. They made $1.00, which they spent at the competition down the sidewalk.

If you need them to stop eating so much sugar, do this...

"You should have said, "No more for Evan!"

I go to OHSU twice a week. They know us there. My boys are so adorable that even the head of the dermatology department thinks they are cute. He is the guy with the gray hair, big degree, big office, lots of money, no worries about gas prices. Ya, him. His big office has candy, so the nurse took them to "raid" it today. He loved it. I felt important because I was the mother of the 2 little boys roaming the sacred, private halls of one of the largest university hospitals in the country. I wasn't invited mind you. I had to sit on the crinkly safety paper waiting to have my hands lasered. No chocolate for mommy.

We got in the car. I had said yes to the sucker even though they had one piece of licorice. I was feeling generous. But, half way home, Evan says the above to me. Wow. I almost hit a passing car trying to reach in the backseat to save my son from pancreatic failure. He has never even said that to me the day after Halloween. So, I asked him why. Ian says, "He had 2 pieces of licorice, chocolate, and a sucker." And then Evan adds, "And chocolate milk." Then I am sure Ian said, "Maybe you should spank him when we get home," because that is what he says whenever Evan does anything. The only variation of his attitude is when he thinks Evan should get two spankings instead of one. Actually by the time we got home today, Ian had decided Evan needed four swats. I thought he only deserved three, but that is another story.

Once again, being the good mother that I am, I have taught my children well. Too much candy will give you a tummy ache, even if it is from a rich doctor's office.