In a Nutshell...

Rather than try to stumble along in my own words, I want to quote a favourite book of mine on motherhood - the book is By the Secret Ladder- A Mother's Initiation and the author is Frances Greenslade.

"The enormous physical changes that mothers' bodies undergo in preparation for giving birth should be the outward signal of inward change to come. Your rib cage enlarges to accommodate your double-duty lungs. Your heart, too, is displaced, literally expanding with the new effort it requires to pump blood not only through your body, but also your growing fetus and the placenta. As your heart grows, it twists, trying to settle into a spot where it will fit.

Her body is altered in ways that cannot be undone. Her feet may be bigger, her rings may not fit anymore, her ribcage will be permanently expanded. And as everyone knows, once your heart's been twisted out of place, it never goes back to normal."

"When you become a mother, you undergo a psychic reordering even more monumental and profound than the physical. Until now you have been autonomous, the centre of your own universe, but from the moment you give birth, everything changes. It's like a crack has opened up in your world and on one side is your old life, on the other, the adventure of the new. "

"Becoming a mother brings you close to the bone, to blood and shit, to mortality and your absolute worst fears. It may be sweet, but it can also be dark and dangerous. It is, more accurately, one of the great adventures of many women's lives. It is a quest, with the mother as the hero-adventurer, encountering the pitfalls of all adventures: monsters, despair, and an overarching wonder. A mother, helplessly in love with and bound to her child by the minutiae of daily caring, comes face to face with her own soul."

Motherhood in a nutshell.

Folded Linens

It was time to decorate the Christmas tree and set out the family nativity set. I was hurrying through the house - from the basement where the ornament boxes were stored to the upstairs linen closet to grab a nice Christmas cloth for the little table I wanted to put the Nativity on.

And suddenly; most unexpectedly, time seemed to stop and my mother was with me. As I was digging through the linen closet I came across a little square Christmas tablecloth that had not been used in the 8 years since my mother died. It was folded neatly; every crease ironed. It had that feel to it that only linens my mother washed and ironed could. As I unfolded the table cloth I felt like I was touching part of her, since her hands were the last hands to iron this little piece of cloth and fold it neatly, preparing it for the next Christmas that never came for her.

It was an incredibly special moment; to feel my mother's long gone physical presence so close again. And though this cloth will never have that closeness again - since once I wash it and iron it and tuck it away for next Christmas, it won't be the same- something special will remain with me. Amidst all the old and treasured memories I have of her from years long past, I have been given an unexpected and lovely Christmas gift - my Mother has just given me a new memory; a gift that I will treasure every year as that little table cloth comes out in its place of honour on the Nativity table.

Rainy day ramblings

It's a rainy August afternoon. Cold and damp and grey. The wash I hung on the line to dry yesterday is soaked. Again. A friend is visiting and his dog is barking steadily, almost like he's trying to lend a beat to the patter of the rain on the window. The Avett Brothers are crooning softly in the background. The kids, surprisingly, haven't attempted to kill each other and are actually all working on one big lego project together in harmony. Shhh.... I don't want to jinx it.

Confession time: I let them play wii for an hour and we had hotdogs and KD for supper. All because I'm engrossed in a book and since my husband is going out with his friend tonight I didn't feel like cooking. And its raining. And I cleaned out two closets this morning, which sounds like no big deal, but you haven't seen how much stuff I can cram into a closet! My father was a boy scout leader and taught me how to maximize space when packing the trunk of a car for a trip, which translates nicely to cramming junk into a closet, under a bed, or in any other conveniently empty space just crying to be filled.

I'm trying to come up with a theme, or point to this blog entry. Nothing clear is coming to me. Except that I sat and watched my daughter arrange her green beans around the perimeter of her plate before proudly announcing "A circle!!" like it was a fascinating work of art. And I watched my son concentrate with furrowed brow on his star wars character in the wii game, staring with such intensity at the tv screen trying to keep his guy in the game. And I watched my youngest son's eyes well up with tears when he fell off the couch and bumped his knee. Well, he didn't actually fall of the couch, he took a flying leap off the couch and didn't take into account the physics of his momentum when he went in for his landing.

It amazes me how many emotions my kids make me feel - pride, anger, frustration, sympathy, empathy, rage, anxiety, happiness, mirth, all wrapped up in a big bundle of love. Like all parents I know my kids can send me off the deep end one second and just as quickly send me soaring on cloud nine. They do a number on this mama heart of mine.

I've been trying to enjoy the ordinary moments. Soak up those silly little facial expressions, funny comments, boring story recaps recounted in painful blow by blow detail. Watch their faces, which are still mirrors to their hearts and thoughts. The tired old cliche is true. This childhood of theirs is so fleeting, in a blink it'll be over. I hope I remember the magnificence of these ordinary rainy Saturday afternoons because like my husband's 97 year old grandfather always says: "These are the best days of your lives." And you know, I think he may just know what he's talking about.

Got Music?

I think I was 11 when I got my first very own music tape. It was ABBA's SuperTrouper. I was visiting friends of my parents for a week and their older daughter made me a tape of her album. She played the record and ran her taperecorder beside the record so that tape captured the ambient noise around us - someone coughing, her mother calling to her dad, a plane going by... but it was my very own tape and it was magical to me. I listened to that tape over and over again on an old tapedeck my Dad gave me.

Then came the days of taping songs off of the radio. Listening with finger poised over the record and play buttons, just waiting for the song we wanted to come on the radio and trying not to miss the first few notes. Inevitably there'd be some dj chatter at the beginning and end of the song. I taped songs like Mona with the children, Footloose, St. Elmo's Fire, and Sunglasses at Night this way and my girlfriends and I would dance and sing along to these 'absolutely awesome' songs.

I can also thank my brother for exposing me to real 80s music. He was very particular about his music and would buy his favourite record, carefully take the record out of its plastic wrapping and tenderly place it on the turntable. The record would be played once as he recorded it onto a tape and then carefully put away, not to be played again until he wanted to make another tape of the album or make a mix tape. I was given strict instructions not to touch his records - he would notice my fingerprints so "don't even try it." But he was good about making me mix tapes so I couldn't complain too much. He brought music like David Bowie's Major Tom, ELO's Time, Pink Floyd's the Wall, REM, U2, the Cure, etc etc. into my life. Even as I got older and got into buying my own stuff he was always a great source for music and his mix tapes were welcome gifts -its amazing how those old Maxell XLIIs still sound pretty good all these years later and they sure are great for a trip down memory lane.

I've been surrounded by music from birth. I remember waking up to a sister practicing piano and going to bed to a sister practicing piano. My oldest sister would get up at 5 am to have the piano to herself and my mom had to carve out my practice time (8:00-8:30 and 4:00-4:30) or my sisters would gobble up that time too. Now that's dedication. They've both made music their careers so it was definitely time well spent for them.

My parents sang in choirs, my brother and sister played in orchestra, my oldest sister went to Canterbury; but by the time I came along I think my mom was pretty tired and was just glad to get some piano lessons in to me. I dabbled with the cello for the last couple years of high school but never really had the chance to play in an orchestra.

When no-one was practicing CBC was on. My mom loved Jurgen Goth. That man's voice will always take me back to my childhood - to coming home from school and having a quick snack before it was my time to practice and Jurgen was shut down till supper time. I was sad to see him go when they revamped CBC a few years ago, but I must say I am loving the new lineup they have on during the day and things have come full circle - my kids come home to CBC on though its Rich Terfry's voice they hear and its Rich Terfry who gets shut down when its time for them to practice.

From taping songs off the radio to downloading music off of itunes, my access to music has certainly changed over the years, but the emotional response evoked by a favourite song is still the same. Songs have travelled with me all along my journey so far, and certain songs will always stand out as symbolizing turning points or forks in the road along the way (though not necessarily Green Day ;-) ). I can't imagine my life without music and it makes me so happy to see my kids get an emotional response from music as well. It warms my heart to see my 3 year old suddenly get up off her chair because she just HAS to move to the rhythm of a song on the radio, or to hear my ten year old singing along to some of my favourite stuff or to hear my 5 year old ask me to turn up a song because its his "favouritist ever song in the universe". Though a time will come when they scoff at what I listen to and find their own musical personalities, I'm glad to know that they get alot out of music too. Fingers crossed it'll still be something I consider to be "music" and not some noise I can't stand listening to...

Change

Here we go again.

Time for me to brace myself for change. It's a tough thing for me, seeing things change, I'd like nothing more than to hang on to the way things are, exactly right now. Can we just freeze time at this moment?

The only catch to this is that I've been saying this for most of my life. Can we just freeze time now... when I'm in grade 2, playing in the school yard with my friends, before my Dad has to move us all to a new city for a job. Can we just freeze time now... when I'm in grade 9, celebrating a successful year with my cross country running team, before being uprooted to a new city again. Can we just freeze time now, when I'm enjoying the June of highschool graduation year - the parties, the yearbook signing, the ceremonies, the parties. Can we just freeze time now, when I'm in undergrad, having just met the love of my life, doing well at school, living with an awesome roommate and enjoying a fun social scene.

How about now, when I'm settled in Edmonton, at Grad School, surrounded by a supportive and fun group of friends.... how about now, when I'm in my Honeymoon year in our brandnew apartment... or now.. holding my first child in my arms... or now... holding my fourth child in my arms... or now... as my eldest "graduates" kindergarten... or now... as my youngest "graduates" preschool.

Almost every time I have to deal with change its been met with a combination of heartache, nostalgia and fear of the unknown. There were a few major exceptions - like marrying my husband and having my kids... oddly enough those monumental life changes were met only with excitement and anticipation, no mourning for the past.

Being a mom and not being good with change is a really tough combination. Every milestone my kids take I meet with a mixture of sorrow at the child I'm "losing" and pride at that child's achievement. I've had to watch one or another or all of my kids go through leaving a beloved daycare facility, "graduating" preschool and kindergarten, outgrowing playgroups, changing teachers, etc. etc. These are all normal and expected rites of passage in childhood and yet they are so very bittersweet to watch as a mother. And the big ones haven't even started yet - things like first romance, highschool graduation, moving out of the house...

Some changes are expected and anticipated events - like the little ceremony with the paper hats and cake with too much frosting on it as we say good bye to the cherished preschool. And some changes just kind of creep up on me... like suddenly realizing I'm only allowed to give my son a goodbye hug if he's inside the door on his way to school.

Change is growth, and life, and not letting things get stale. Change is inevitable and expected. And without change we would miss out on so many experiences worth mourning when they're gone. Change brings us new friends, new experiences, new memories to look back on fondly. Change is often an emotional rollercoaster, but an oh so necessary part of Life.

So, as I watch and publicly celebrate while privately mourning all this change happening about me I'm sure of one thing. The Kleenex company is not going to go out of business any time soon!

Snapshot

The other day my daughter and I took the dog for a walk around the block. The sun was shining, the air was warm, the birds were singing. The dog was trotting peacefully at my side as my daughter slipped her sweet little hand in mine. As we walked along I thought to myself - "I have to remember this moment, this is perfection." There was no where else I wanted to be; it was a magical moment of connection with this little girl at my side. She pranced along beside me sharing her stream of consciousness with me. She had me jumping over every crack with her and would giggle joyfully after each successful leap. This was a snapshot to savour, and as we meandered around the block I kept thinking how I would need to bottle up this memory to bring out when I was feeling the stresses of being a parent.

Of course, the inevitable happened and by the time we were halfway around the block my daughter was getting bored. She wanted to jump off the neighbour's culverts, she stalled to investigate every little pebble and leaf; she whined about being tired and wanting to be carried. The dog pulled on the leash as my daughter put on the brakes and I found myself literally being pulled in two directions.

This is the reality of life as a parent. Most of the time parenting is physical and mental work - a true labour of love. We develop skills to rival the best referees, judges and hostage negotiators. The task of keeping expectations consistent and keeping the kids heading in the right direction can get very frustrating and exhausting.

But its those glowing little moments that make it all worthwhile. My sister once told me that parenting is 90% work and 10% joy but the 10% joy makes up for everything else. As I think back to that moment with a happy little hand in mine I realize my sister is pretty wise.

Oops, gotta go, time to go negotiate an arms treaty...

A decade of diapers...

My oldest son just turned ten, and along with all the other things a parent contemplates as their first born hits that milestone, it hit me that I've been changing diapers for a decade straight! Ever since that first diaper I changed ten years ago we've had a kid or two in diapers right up until now as our youngest is just finishing up the whole potty training extravaganza.

It seems to be human nature to package time into chapters - and this past decade has certainly been one very interesting chapter in my life. I've experienced my lowest lows and highest highs (so far) over this past decade. I learned alot about parenting and about myself (and how to change a diaper one handed and blindfolded). Its been amazing watching how the same genetic material can create such very different little people. I've learned alot about my husband and our relationship has not only withstood, but blossomed under, the extreme challenges of sleep deprivation, toddler temper tantrums and a multitude of parenting firsts.

I'm really comfortable with the whole baby -toddler - young child phase. It's kind of become part of my identity to have little people around me. I'm less sure about this next decade - as the teen hormones start to bubble up and we face a whole new chapter of triumphs and stresses. I'm sure I'll figure it out as I go, but it seems pretty intimidating to contemplate right now.

My diaper changing days may not be quite over though... my three year old daughter was given one of those baby dolls that drinks and pees this past Christmas and so I find myself diapering this dolly so that I don't have to keep stepping in puddles of (thankfully) water on the floor after feeding time. ;-)