Sometimes things go smoothly and perfectly. Sometimes life has no bumps. There's no worries and I can just focus on being a super mom and wife and it all comes so easily.
But that happened like, once. Back in maybe 2003.
Most of the times it's controlled chaos. I'm winging it and hanging on for dear life. With seven kids and two busy businesses, and autism thrown into the mix, sometimes I am hanging on with maybe one or two fingers.
Life is moving forward and seems to be moving faster than usual lately. We're working on building a bigger house to fit all of us. As one would imagine, this has all the ear marks of landing me in a mental institution. Hannah's in company dance, which means lots of practices and running around. I am possibly the world's worst dance mom. Having had five boys and 2 girls--both of whom sported bob hair styles for most of their lives, I am hairstyle deficient. Even a french braid is giving me heartache. Ella and Garrett are also dancing. There is a lot of piano and scouts and soccer and homework and reading and just...life.
Lately business has been busy. Most of the busy is good busy. But there's things like navigating Facebook's ever changing waters. There's a crazy website and wonky hosting issue that keeps popping up, which leads to us beginning work on a new website and into brainstorming new and innovative ways of meeting with our customers. Yeah...all good stuff. But busy.
I am sitting here working working working on my laptop. It's a gray, wet February afternoon. Perfect cosy weather. And yet I just can't relax. I'm one of those people that always needs to be moving forward in one way or another. It works perfectly for things like developing new products for work. I literally have 5 sets in development and most are over halfway done. I have ideas for 3 or 4 more. It's like my brain can't stop and I am compelled to comply with this need to always be switched on.
Usually, I think it is a pretty good thing.
But suddenly, two little fingers pop up over the side of my laptop and I see Henry. My sweet 9-month-old has been sleeping beside me for the last hour and he's woken up. I've been mostly oblivious to him sleeping right beside me and it makes me sad. Sad enough to want to write myself this note.
So this is my note to myself: All of those other great things--business, homework, hobbies--those all really need to come second. Yes, I obviously have to do them, but these tiny moments are the lifeblood of being human. So I am reminding myself to stop sometimes. I am reminding myself to just sit here and love on my growing-to-fast baby. I promise myself that I will be more fully-present when my excited 8-year-old comes to me and wants to tell me about the book fair at school. I will engage with my 15-year-old when he is excited to talk with me. These moments are all too fleeting.
And they are what I am doing everything else for.
Saturday, January 25, 2014
Since it's been so long, I might as well post new images.
Hannah is now 11.5. She's in 5th grade and is also in the dance company, so she is always at dance. She's a born dancer. She's also playing the piano.
Garrett will be 8 next month. He'll be getting baptized and starting scouting and he is so excited. He's doing amazingly in his 2nd grade class and is a little scientist. He takes ballroom dance and it makes my heart break with the cuteness--ahem, studliness--every time I see him dance.
Ella is almost 6 and is in Kindergarten. See those rays of energy shooting right out of her eyes? What? No? Well, they're there, I swear. She has tons of energy. She's in ballet and tumbling and loves learning pretty much everything.
Max will be 3 in a few weeks. Can you tell he wants to be just like the big kids? He is my sweet, soft-hearted cuddler.
One of Max being a big helper.
And Henry! 5 days until he's 9 months.
Ok, so I haven't posted anything in three years.
The good news is we have not died or anything. In fact, it's been a really good, really busy three years.
The big things that happened? Max was born in 2011. Henry was born in 2013. Rachel's photography business (Pure) has been going great and so has the action/preset business Pure Actions. Life is good and life is busy.
So much of the good in our lives are those little moments. Like the time that Ella told me she wanted to be a scientist. Not an evil one, she assured me. Though maybe a mad one. Or finding Doctor Who and the whole family becoming Whovians with the speed of a cold passing among a Kindergarten class. Or watching the budding friendship growing between Max and Henry. (That last one is going to be the source of many blog posts about their adventures as they grow, I expect.)
I want to chronicle it all again. Sure, I post it on Facebook and I love that I can share it with family and friends immediately, but I just feel the need to make it more complete. So, hello again blog.
There have been times during the years when it would have been a relief to write out my thoughts and sort them a bit. When Henry was born April 30th of last year, he was 5 weeks early and landed in the NICU for 3 weeks. It was a weird, crazy, scary, lonely, intense, and hopeful time. Organizing my thoughts through the situation might have been very helpful. Or probably, I would have neglected the blog completely. Right? Oh well, there would have been an epic picture round-up post at the end of it all.
Oh and the time when all my worry over Max's slow acquisition of words came to a head and I called Early Intervention? I had worked myself into an absolute frenzy over his lack of words. Having two sons with autism will do that to you. But yet, in my heart, I knew it was something else. The signs were not there for autism. It was an interesting learning experience about myself. I learned that not only do I have PTSD a little when I suspect something is not perfect, developmentally, I also am pretty good at knowing what autism IS now, which was such a hard thing back with Michael and McKay. I had so much uncertainty and didn't know what I was even looking for. Oh, how much I have learned. But once I finally looked into that corner of my brain, the one where all of the worries and fears are stored and where I try to avoid looking too much, and faced the fact I knew that Max's speech was delayed, I also found that I also had the capacity to help him. God had given me the gift of experience and while I worked so hard to learn how to coax speech from Michael and McKay, I found that now it came naturally. I want to remember these moments of triumph, because lots of times I need to look back on them to keep moving forward when new challenges come and I have to learn on the fly and grow so much it hurts. It's good to see what comes from all of that effort and discomfort.
I also want a record of the amazing moments. Like when McKay went to his first school dance and a sweet girl came up to him and asked him to dance. His absolute joy at participating so fully in his school event lightened my heart for weeks.
So, that's my goal this year. I want to remember our lives.