The Space Between

“The Space Between
The tears we cry
Is the laughter keeps us coming back for more”

-Dave Matthews Band

We met our friends at the boardwalk on Saturday where there were a ton of kiddie rides.  It was crowded and I think my kids were a tad bit over stimulated.  If you were looking at a slideshow, you would see some happy moments and smiles but some extreme moments as well.  You would see the moment on the motorcycle ride when my 4 year old cried hysterically because she was scared.  They had to stop the ride right smack in the middle of it.  You would see me chasing my 2 year old down the boardwalk, making deals for her to come back and join the group.  You would see all those moments as a parent where we have to keep our eye on our children, how we cannot have a normal conversation because we are always making sure, checking out the scene, holding hands, helping on and off rides, being a parent.  You would see my husband having a long talk with my 4 year old trying to convince her to have fun.  You know what, sometimes the big bright lights and fancy rides aren’t what they want or need.  I’m realizing this.

We went to the beach afterward and sat down while our kids played in the sand and ran from the waves.  They were quiet and peaceful and in turn, so were we.  They shoveled the sand with their little shovel and pail.  They collected sea shells.  They didn’t need anything elaborate; the extravagant rides or the fast-paced movement.  But, they wouldn’t be happy sitting home either.  They needed somewhere in the space between.  They needed nice, slow-moving, outdoor moments in the sun and with their family and friends.  I feel like I have to remind myself of this.  Sometimes they don’t need anything amazing or out of control, they just need amazing moments of peace and family.  They just want me to sit and dig a hole with them.  Or stand and hold their hands while we put our feet in the water.   They don’t need much.  What they need is somewhere in the space between the elaborate and the basic. 

Do we put pressure on ourselves to make things amazing for them?  Absolutely.  We think we need to go above and beyond to make them happy.  But, we don’t.  We don’t need to bring the bright lights and fancy plans.  We just need to bring ourselves.  We are creating memories.  I feel like I know what they will remember.  They won’t remember the big things, those big moments that we think.  They will remember the everyday ones in the space between holidays and big parties, boardwalk rides and sitting on the couch.  They won’t remember the grand old things; they will remember the everyday things and people who put stamps on their lives and hearts.  As parents, I think we have to remember this.  I know I do.ill remember the everyday things.  As parents, I think we have to remember this.  Set up

Life is crazy.  Social media is crazy too.  It makes us think we have to do more for our kids than the next person.  It makes us think that we aren’t bringing them to the biggest/best place on earth, than we aren’t doing enough.  But, we are.  We know our children.  We know what they need.  And we know that they don’t need all the big plans.  They need us.  They need simplicity.  This summer, I want to remember to give this to them. 

After the beach, we had a nice dinner outside with our family and the girls swung a golf club around in the backyard and threw grass at each other.  They picked flowers and collected rocks and gave them to the people they love so much.  We pretended the rocks were diamonds and wrapped up the flowers in leaves to make mini bouquets.  Oh my goodness, they loved it.  This is what I am talking about.  This is what they need; this is what we need as parents.  Simple moments wrapped in big love.

There are so many extremes in our life.  Highs and lows; hard times, difficult months, illnesses, etc., but I hope where you find yourself is somewhere in between; in the middle, in the simple, in the uncomplicated, in the honest, in the hopeful, in the happy…

In the space between …

 “The Space Between
Your heart and mine
Is the space we'll fill with time”

-Dave Matthews Band

Lifelines

“You cannot swim for new horizons until you have courage to lose sight of the shore.”
― William Faulkner

We have a swing set in our backyard with a pretty fast slide.  Every single time my 2 year old gets to the top, she calls for me to catch her and I get up from what I’m doing to catch her.  I get it, it’s fast and she is a bit scared.  About a week ago, I said to her, “You know, you are a big girl now and I think you can go down the slide yourself.”  She said, “No, mama catch me.”  So, I said, “I’m going to help you do it by yourself.”  Each time she went down the slide, I stood a little further from her.  Finally, I said, “You are ready.  I’ll be right here.”  I stood away from the slide and with a hesitant but determined look, she went down.  She landed on her feet.  I clapped and cheered and my other daughter clapped and cheered for her as well.  I have never seen such a look a pride on her face.  She knew she did something special.  In her little world, she took a momentous step.  She went down the slide for an hour after that (about 50 times) and for that hour, we clapped for her every single time.  We clapped and clapped and clapped.  We clapped until our hands hurt.   

And now, she is sliding with one hand and with a huge independent heart.  She took a risk.  Isn’t that what life is about; because without even the smallest risk, we can’t see the reward.

My 4 year old daughter was having nightmares.  I sat in bed with her, knowing that she wanted to sleep in bed with us.  I said to her, “there is nothing to be afraid of except being afraid.”  I said, “Nothing has changed here, this is your safe and cozy house.  We are right downstairs if you need us.  Be brave.”  Of course she could have come in my bed, but I didn’t want her to have that fear of her own safe haven.  I wanted her to risk it; be in her bed, show herself that she should not be afraid; that there is no reason to be afraid.  But, at the same time, know we are here.  She slept all night.  She has been sleeping soundly ever since.

In both these instances, both of my daughters knew that they had a lifeline.  They could risk it, because if they got hurt or were afraid, I would be there.  This comfort is why they both did it.  They were swimming for new horizons with a raft in their peripheral vision.  Me.  I’m their raft.  This allowed them to lose sight of the shore and swim.

When I thought about them today, I thought about myself.  If they can do it, so can I.

I take risks every week by writing with an open heart.  My Mom tells me that she cannot believe that I put myself out there every single week without a filter.  I could sugarcoat, but I don’t.  I believe that it is a part of writing; in order to truly connect, you have to bleed.  So I bleed good and bad days.  I bleed amazing and not so amazing moments.  I bleed real life as a Mom.  I risk it.  I risk judgment and I risk ridicule.  I risk people telling me that I’m not good enough.  But I know what I am.  I know who I am.  You see because I know that I’m not alone.  I have some lifelines.  I have people who support me no matter what I say or do.  They laugh with me and cry with me.  They know who I am.  They keep me from fear.

You know who my lifelines are; other moms who get it and my friends and family who support me.

Friendships change over time.  They change us.  They change the way we think about ourselves.  True friendships and love don’t point figures or laugh at mistakes or scold bad moments.  They simply trust in the person they believe we are; the real person; not the mad person or the angry person or the person who has a bad moment.  They see the real us, always.  They allow us to take risks.  They allow us to lose sight of the shore.  They allow us to be who we are.  I know that as we get older, friendships may evolve into something big and bright and beautiful.  Or, they can simply turn into an old flickering light.  Our circles get smaller.  Who we can trust to stay with us on our journeys gets smaller as well.  But, the strong, bright lights will survive.

I am grateful for my lifelines, my bright lights, my rafts.  They keep me swimming fast and strong.  And if I start to drown, I know they will throw me my raft.  I’ll hold on tight.  Take a breath.  Give them a thumbs up.  And swim again.   

I am grateful that my children, at such a young age, seem to be able to internally grasp this concept as well.  They know they have us.  We have to make sure our children understand that sometimes sliding down the slide is more than sliding down a slide or sleeping in their bed is more than that.  Sometimes it is everything.  Sometimes it is a tool to be used throughout life.  Close your eyes, gain some strength, and take the risk.  If you get hurt or scared, dust yourself off, lean on me and try again.  Eventually, you will land on your feet or wake up with a new found trust.  And if you don’t, I will be here to help you find your courage.  And when you finally swim, I will be in the distance waving with one hand and holding a raft in the other.

Forever Treasure

You know what I love (insert sarcastic voice) when older women tell me that “it goes by fast,” and to “enjoy it.”  I love that.  I think it is exactly what I want to hear, especially when I am…say…at church with my 2 year old pulling up my dress and crying loudly in the echoing silence, disruptive.  It is the perfect moment to whisper in my ear and tell me to enjoy it.  “Oh yes, I will try,” I respond with a half smile as my arm pits sweat with perspiration and I am at my wits end. 

Here’s the thing.  I think I know what moments that I will want treasure and what moments that I will want to forget.  I’m quite certain that I will not want to remember that moment in church.  You know why, because when I am counting down the slow-ticking minutes, I know it is not somewhere I want to be and something I want to be doing.  I know for a fact that I will not want to “enjoy it while I can,” during that moment.  Trying to get through 50 minutes of church with a very feisty 2 year old isn’t really that fun or memorable.  It isn’t something to “enjoy,” thank you very much.  But, thank you for trying to remind me. I do understand what you are trying to accomplish.  I’m just not with you.  We aren’t on the same page.  Right now, we are writing completely different stories so I cannot relate to you.  I know you can relate to me.  I will not take anything away from that.  BUT, what I’m trying to say is, thanks but no thanks.  I can determine the moments to treasure and which to hide in the past, under the rug, in a box, for no one to see or find.  Ok?

My 4 ½ year old daughter had her first dance recital.  She stood in front of a large audience and did her dance the best she could.  I was soo proud of her.  I seriously was laughing hysterically and crying while watching her.  It was one of my very first moments as a Mom where I felt like I could feel as nervous as anything and then as proud as humanly possible.  THAT is a moment that I will always treasure. 

The other day my 2 ½ year old pooped in her crib and spread it all over the sheets during nap time.  Then, my 4 ½ year old had to be picked up from school early because she was crying hysterically because her eyes hurt.  Then, it took me 30 minutes to get 2 drops in her eyes.  Then, my 2 ½ year old took off all her clothes and cried for 45 minutes.  Then nobody wanted to get in the bath or go to bed.  THIS is not something that I want to “enjoy while I can.”  If someone said that to me on that day, I would want to poke their little eyeballs out.  This is something I know I will want to forget forever and ever!

Yesterday, my 2 ½ year old couldn’t wait to give me a picture she drew for me.  She ran to me and handed me a scribbled picture with a black pen which she said was “me and you.”  THIS is what I will want to remember when I’m older.  THIS is a moment I wish could stretch and last forever and always.  This, I know, is something to treasure and enjoy.

When my girls are smiling and playing together outside on a sunny day.  Treasure.

When they are crying in unison at the grocery store because I won’t get them a balloon.  Forget.

When they smile as big as they can when I pick them up from school.  Treasure.

When they won’t listen, respond, look at me, or follow any type of parental direction.  Forget.

As parents, we don’t need to remember it all.  We don’t need to ENJOY IT ALL!!!  We will know which moments to burn in our brains and our hearts and which we can let go.  We know to enjoy it when we see our little babies dancing and drawing, running towards us and laughing big belly laughs but not when they are spreading poop around their crib.  We understand ourselves enough to know what to hold dear in our hearts.  We don’t need the reminders.  Please stop reminding us.  Just say, “I miss when my kids were this age.”  THIS, I can relate to.  THIS does not make me want to roll my eyes for 100^th time.  Because, the real reminders won’t come from people, they are there for us to grab hold of when they present themselves.  We know.  Right?  We know they are there.   We see them.  We feel them.  We treasure them now.  We treasure them always.  That is our job as parents. 

 So, to the old lady at church: (I mean, she really was sweet.  But, I really was in a bad mood). To you old lady:  thanks for trying but, don’t tell me to “enjoy it.”  Just don’t.  Because I am the type of person that won’t enjoy it just to spite you.  Find something else to say to us because we are enjoying the moments we want to enjoy.  And to be honest, we are despising the moments we feel like despising.  You can’t change that.  And you aren’t teaching us some life-long lesson.  We aren’t going home talking about the old lady who changed our lives.  So just smile and move on.  We got this.   

 And when we are older and we see a young mom with her young babies, we will say to her, “I miss the babies, but I remembered to treasure it while it was happening.  And I have no regrets.  I hope you won’t either” 

Hope everyone had a very Happy Mother’s Day!!!  I hope that day was a moment you will forever treasure.  xoxo

The White Flag

Last night my 4 year old woke us up at 4 am for the 3^rd night.  She is having nightmares about the bad Muppet Kermit look-alike she saw in the Disney store from that new Muppet movie.  His name is Constantine and he is ruining my comfy sleeps.  Now, she is petrified at night.  Awesome.  And, to be honest, I am not the best 4am Mom.  I’m horrible actually.  Then, I woke my 2 ½ year old up for school early the next morning.  Remember I am already cranky.

“I don’t want to wear pants.”  -2 year old.

“Ok, I’ll hold the pants for now, but you have to put them on when we go outside.  It’s chilly.” –me

“I don’t want to wear PANTS!!!!!!!!” – 2 year old

“Ok, I’ll hold them until it’s time to go.” – me

“No pants.  Or socks!” – 2 year old.

And she says “pants” like she has British accent.  Replace the ‘a’ with an ‘o.’ Ponts.  “I don’t want to wear ponts.”   I am not sure if it makes it funnier or more tragic. 

So we go downstairs for breakfast and I try to turn the conversation more positive.  She is eating her yogurt, spoonful by spoonful and I am smiling and chatting; trying.  “I can’t believe you are going to be 3 years old in 3 months.  What a big girl?!”  She responds, “Be quiet Mom.  No talking.”  Fabulous.

Every day, everything is a struggle.  “OFF SOCKS!”  “NO PONTS!”  “I DON’T WANT DINNER!  I WANT AN ICE POP.  No talking.  No singing.  No laughing.  I don’t want milk.  I don’t want to go in the car.  I don’t want to LEAVE!” -her

“Ummm, can we just be happy…EVER?” – me

Can we please just agree with something I ask or say?  Can we make it a little easier so I don’t want to RUN FOR THE HILLS most days?!  I always say that to my husband, “I’m going to run for the hills.”  Did my Mom say that growing up?  Where did I get that?  Did I make it up or is it a saying?  Like the chick in the Sound of Music.  I cannot even remember her name right now and I honestly don’t care.  I’m too busy trying to come down from my pants drama.  Like her; singing among the rolling hills.  Wouldn’t that be amazing right now?  I want to be her in that moment.  FREEDOM!

I saw a quote this morning on Facebook.  “Keep your head up.  God gives his hardest battles to his strongest soldiers.”  Why can I relate to that?  I think it is actually bad that I am nodding my head in agreement and saying “YES!  I GET IT!”  Sometimes the battles with my 2 year old make me feel like I’m in the trenches; one explosion after another.  BOOM!  “Don’t look at me Mommy!”  BOOM!  “PICK ME UP NOW” I’m exhausted from it…mentally.  And then other times, I am laughing hysterically like a crazy person with her hair sticking up in every direction.  NO PONTS. HAHAHAHAHA!!  And other days, I find it sanely amusing.  I see the humor in it and I don’t take it too seriously.  But, to be honest, it is a crap shoot.  The days that I do in fact laugh and see the humor are the ones that she screams, “NO LAUGHING!”  And then she walks away mumbling something and I catch a word here and there. “…..ponts….poopie….mommy….”  Eyes crinkled, hands on her hips.  You know the drill.  You’ve seen it.

These kids are on a mission.  What mission exactly, I’m not sure.  I guess disagreeing with everything we say.  That’s a start.  Giving us a hard time.  Exerting their independence by arguing with everything we are and everything we stand for and everything we are trying to accomplish.  They will not be happy until we are on the ground, face down, waving our white flag.  “I give up.  No ponts or socks today.  Go freeze.”  Today, I started waving the white flag, giving up.  But, just as I started waving the flag, I sat down with my 2 ½ year old on the floor in the dining room as we waited for my friend to pick her up for school.  I started singing the first song that came to my head.  “Suddenly I see,” by KT Tunstall.  It is one of my go-to songs.   If you have been following me from “Growing Ladies,” you know that I love this song.  I’ve written about it before.  It is one of those all-encompassing songs and at that moment, it was absolutely the only song in my head.
“Her face is a map of the world, is a map of the world.  You can see she’s a beautiful girl, she’s a beautiful girl.  And everything around her is a silver pool of light…people who surround her feel the benefit of it, it makes you calm.  She holds you captivated in her palm” 

She sat quietly and listened and at times, hummed along.  It calmed her.  When I finished, I looked at her and tears were streaming down her face.  STREAMING!  She wiped them away.  “Are you crying,” I asked?  “Yes,” she responded.  “Why,” I asked.  “Because I want you,” she said.  “I want you too,” I said back because it is all I could say.  It is all I wanted to say.  The fact that I could invoke such emotion in her from a song I sang completely and absolutely amazed me.  It amazed me.  I mean, she is 2.  I’m telling you, it felt like my love and the words to that song brought her to tears.  It erased everything bad or cranky, mean or grouchy.  It erased everything and in its place painted new light and a day with possibilities.

“Suddenly I see.  This is what I want to be.”

She put her pants on and then she realized she was leaving me and said, “I need a fruit snack,” in a classic case of erasing her pain with food. 

Good parenting would not be feeding into it.

“Ok,” I said as I waved my white flag in a symbol of solidarity, “you can have your fruit snack.  Enjoy my love.”

 

Mind, Body, Soul

How do you connect with yourself?  As parents and people, we need these three words to be balanced: mind, body, and soul.  These three words, when connected, make up your entire being.  They need to be nurtured. 

Mind

I felt bad yesterday.  I kept telling my 2 ½ year old, “No,” to almost everything she did.  Even I got annoyed with my own voice.  At the end of the day I said to her, “the reason why I say no so much is because I want to keep you safe.”  Her response, “you have poopie feet.   I have poopie feet too.  Look” (showing her feet to me).  Riveting!  I mean…

Sometimes this is the extent of my conversations.  They are one-sided.  My brain is about to turn into a poopie mess of mush.  Last night my mom said, “Boy she is smart.  She gets it.”  This morning my daughter asked me, “Did you sleep with your nails on?”  “Yes, sweetie.  I slept with my nails on.  They are actually attached to me.”  Oh yea, she gets it.  We have deep, deep conversations.

The other day, my friend was cleaning the house, feeling wonderful that all the kids were playing nice and they were having an easy morning.  On the ball.  Just as she is swifting the kitchen floor with a little hop in her step, she gets a text from her friend.  “Are you ok?”  “Of course,” she responds, “did you mean to send this to someone else?”  “No,” her friend said, “Today is the first day of T-ball.  Where are you?”  “SH#T,” she texted back.  Here she thought she was ahead of the game.  I laughed so hard I almost cried when she told me this story.  I LOVE IT!  I eat it up.  We are all mushy-brained messes!!! 

Moms, we need to keep our brain muscles working.  What do you do to air out the poopie mush?  I read and write.  I will read book after book.  It allows me to escape, exercise the brain function (which at times is near death) and keep my mind growing and developing.  Otherwise I will literally be talking in circles about fruit snacks, poopie feet, and the fact that my daughters need to be called Elsa and Anna, indefinitely.  Just because we aren’t in school, does not mean we stop learning.  I learn when I am inspired by books, and people, and words.  What keeps your mind fresh?  What inspires you to learn?

Body

I still find it amazing that I was cut open in the stomach and a human was pulled from my loins.  AND, I lived to tell about it.  I mean, doesn’t that seem crazy?!  And this situation happens on a daily basis??!!  Insane!  No wonder our bodies are not the same as they were when we were 20.  THIS is the reason why movement is important.  Movement is everything.  We need to find a place where nobody is pulling on us; a place where we can feel like our bodies are OURS again.    

I go to the gym, I spin, I run outside, and I take weight classes.  All great.  I still do the Bar Method, which I love.  It is my Zen hour.  I keep going back there for those “long and lean” legs they promised.  My pointer finger is tapping the face of my watch and my toe is tapping the floor.  Any minute now.  But anyway, I found something that I love more than anything.  Dance!  And, I am not and was NOT a dancer.  Cheerleading doesn’t count.  (Don’t judge me). 

There is this teacher, Chris SantaMaria who is absolutely amazing.  If you are in the area, you need to give it a try.  He oozes genuine spirit and soul; an uplifting presence.  He inspires with his movement and the incredible choreography.  When you take his class, it makes you happy.   It is fun.  It is a release.  It makes me feel like there aren’t 2 kids rolling around the floor at home.  For once, I am in the moment.  My body is mine.  Imagine doing something you love while doing something good for your body?  What do you love to do?  How do you move your body?  Is it yoga?  Marathons?  Swimming?  Biking? Crossfit?  Or, like me, do you happen to pick up a little of Chris SantaMaria’s swag when you dance?!  And trust me; I know I’m not even the type of person that can say the word “swag” out loud.  It would just look inappropriate.   “How dare her say the word “swag” as she has crusty eggs hanging from her shirt and a sippy cup in her back pocket?”  Hmmph.  But believe me; I can appreciate it when I see it.

Follow Chris SantaMaria on facebook to get updates on his schedule.  Like him.  Love him.  Become obsessed.  Get the t-shirt.  It’s all ok.  I get it. https://www.facebook.com/#!/chris.santamaria?fref=ts

Soul

What feeds your soul?  Dinner with friends?  Yes.  Phone calls from old friends?  Absolutely.  Happy Hour?  Backyard Parties?  Music?  Yes, yes, yes.  All those normal, adult things fill us up.  They make us happy.  But, what truly feeds it?  What I need to sometimes get away from with my mind and body, I absolutely run toward for my soul.  My children.   When I get to tell my 4 year old how beautiful and special she is before bed and she gets it?!  That feeds my soul.  When my 2 ½ year old turns my face toward hers and kisses me smack on the lips.  That feeds my soul. I would let that go on for ages and ages if I could; endless kisses from my babies.

Maybe my days are not perfect.  I don’t have the perfect body.  I have tough days.  I get annoyed.  My girls whine and cry.  My brain is a little mushy.  My shoulders are sore from carrying.  I need escapes and I dance it away…

But my soul…

My soul is full and bursting at the seams.  My girls fill me up from top to bottom, head to toe, inside and out.  But remember, we have to try and balance all aspects of ourselves.  So let’s try our best to understand ourselves and what we need for our mushy minds, wounded bodies, and loving souls. 

I hope you all can keep your minds strong, your bodies moving, and your soul complete. 

I think that balance can be called, HAPPINESS!