A bit of perspective, for sure.

A little perspective can go a long way.

Feeling frustrated that my children are so loud and noisy outside may be annoying to me personally; it may be annoying to the neighbors who get to witness my constant shouts to "PLAY NICELY! For the love of GOD, listen when someone says something!" But feeling frustrated isn't a national tragedy. It's a minor inconvenience that I am blessed to be able to feel.

My children aren't witness to gang shootings. My children don't really even know what a "gang shooting" is.

My children have green space and a safe neighborhood to race around within. There is no need for "safe passage" because, in comparison to many parts of America (specifically, inner-city Chicago, just a short drive away), their entire environment IS a safe passage. Warm weather for them equals happy times and independent play; not an increase in the violent crimes that neighbors bring upon each other.

My children are blessed to be allowed outside of my sight. They are blessed to have the freedom to grow up in the relative safety and security that their parents' financial status allows them. I wish I was able to bring this blessing to more children in the world.

~~

I started this a week ago. I had to stop for some reason. Some small reason that obviously needed to be taken care of, but was most definitely not life-threatening. In light of today's recent events, I am so grateful for each day I GET TO be annoyed by my children. Knowing that not all parents receive this luxury and privilege, and knowing that we are all only one storm or accident or illness away from BEING that family won't stop me from being annoyed by them. It will keep it all in perspective, though.

I am sending all of my love to Oklahoma and the surrounding areas that are being affected by today's tornado devastations. I hope with all my heart that any children they pull from the rubble of the schools are still alive and able to be helped at local hospitals...

Supernanny can kiss my crochet hook

This morning, while watching Supernanny (nothing else was on. I SWEAR TO GOD), my kids' mouths were hanging open as the little girl flung herself about in a most impressive and incredibly piercing tantrum.

I paused in my crocheting (My rows are finally even!) and gave them the evil eye.

"Why is this shocking to you guys? That is EXACTLY what you sound like! Last night, even! This is why I sent you to your rooms!!"

Shaking my head and smugly smiling to myself because I, obviously, had a better handle on this parenting gig than those parents, I began to crochet once more. And then Corinne turned from the screen where the mother was literally tearing her hair out while shrieking at her children at the top of her lungs:

"But Mommy! THAT is exactly what YOU sound like!"

Another Post About Corn Fields...

there's something about the green,
the depth and darkness within the acres of leaves
sharp enough to wound like a paper cut
and strong enough to sustain a nation.

there's something about the massive abundance of an Illinois cornfield
that simply astounds me.
the silence that is so deceptively keen...
the silence that is anything but.

have you ever been so distracted by the beauty of the brightest white moon
that your eyes couldn't remain on the road?
it reflected so brilliantly last night,
illuminating the clouds and streaking the corn stalks
with shadows of silver and hues of blue,
causing my mind to wander and heart to stray...

...to visions of generations of moon-worshippers
dancing beneath and within the moonlight and fertile ground.
it stirred my heart
and the energy of Life and Earth and The Universe
lifted my soul.

I truly yearn to dance in the cornfield in the moonlight...

My Mother's Day Wishes

To all the women who are pregnant or adopting soon and are worried about whether or not they'll know what to do and how to care for your child: don't fret, you'll know. When they arrive, you just figure it out, day by day, making mistakes, just like the rest of us. Take care of yourself and enjoy each moment as it comes (the good and the ugly) for they won't last more than a flick of your hair...

To all the women who are raising babies or toddlers and can barely find a moment to read a blog, let alone compose a meaningful sentence: babies grow up quite quickly. Take heart. You'll regain your brain and life again. I promise.

To all the women who are stuck in the middle years of back-talking, patience-testing children: I FEEL YOUR PAIN. Call me and we can commiserate. We can both rest assured that this too, shall pass.

To all the women whose children have moved on and out into the big, bad world of Adulthood: They still need you! As an Adult Child myself, I cannot fathom a moment in my life where I won't require the love and support of my own mother.

To all of the women whose children have passed away from this life before their time: my heart goes out to you. No words can ease your pain, but please know that you are not forgotten. Your children are not forgotten. Whether as infants, children, or adults, know that this blogger, this mother, this woman, is thinking of you and sending you all my hopes for a peaceful Mother's Day.

To all of the women suffering through the agony of infertility: I wish that I could envelope you with love and support. I pray that next Mother's Day finds you holding the child you've always dreamed of. Your pain is not unnoticed. You are not forgotten.

To everyone, everywhere who has never known the love of a mother: I send you my small words of love. Please know that Life can be beautiful, even if nothing seems beautiful today. Life is SO worth living even if no one is loving you right now. You are not forgotten.

Happy Mother's Day to you all. May it be filled with dandelion bouquets, loving arms and sweet memories.

Rose-colored glasses would be lovely, thanks.

I know one day, I'll look back on these times, this year, this season, with fondness and longing. I'll yearn to hold them in my arms at ages 12, 9 and 5 for just a moment longer. I'll wonder how I ever hoped to speed through these times. My older self will want to slap my current aged face and shout "Pay Attention! This? This daily life of yours? The driving to lessons and practicing multiplication tables and speculating about tedium? This is what matters!! This is what will shape their hearts and lives and personalities. FOCUS, Tracey."

And still I find myself issuing commands instead of repeating nicely. I find myself at the end of my rope with especially one child. The one who loves and plays so exuberantly is equally outrageous in their ability to infuriate me with a disrespectful attitude and responses...

But I am the adult.

Driving home from the zoo yesterday, my knuckles were absolutely white. I continued to bark at them to "Be quiet! Be QUIET!"

"We're just playing! Why does it make you so mad?!?"

One day I'll miss this. One day I'll miss this.

The volume increases. The screaming, laughter, arguments, and, finally, object thrown through the van in gridlock traffic.

I snap like unbaked pasta, scattering my jagged pieces across the family.

"Can't you see me?!? Can't you see how distracting you are?!? Can't you understand that I am AT MY END OF PATIENCE?!?"

Silence.

A shuffle. A giggle. A build-up of noise and, once again, their voices encapsulate me without any escape in sight. No concern for their mother who is attempting to navigate them safely home.

Breathe and relax, Tracey. BREATHE.

Is this how I want them to remember me? The shrieking banshee? The impatient one? Would they ever raise their hands to the camera and shout "I'm here because of my Mom! I love you, Mom!" ? Will they blame me?

Late that night, I wake up to find that I cannot move. What started out as just Pat and I has morphed into a family bed of midnight stragglers. I am literally bound in my place in my bed between the same ones who declare that I am mean and unfair; arms and legs and hands confine me and forgive me.

Why, in this setting, is it so simple to love each other? Why can't I retain the patience during the daylight? Why do they seek me out in the nighttime when I fail so miserably during the day?

Every day, I promise to have more patience. To explain, without yelling, what needs to be accomplished. Every day, I swear to myself that this day WILL BE BETTER. We will communicate and understand each other. The family will reach the nightfall withOUT punishments, threats or tears.

So far, today? I'm not doing so great. But this moment of silence and reflection causes me to want to try again. I can't give up on this. There's no limit to the number of attempts we'll make.

Because my Family? It's all that matters.

Had to vs. Get to

This morning I "had to":

bake and frost cupcakes

review the area of a circle with a reluctant 12 year old

assist my daughter in the construction of a get well card for my dad (minor surgery today)

wash 1001 dishes

and figure out how to pay a bill that we had put off.

A phone call can alter everything....

This afternoon, I am remembering how lucky I am to be ABLE TO

be with my kids all day long

breathe in and out without any pain

live for the moment right here, right now.


My dad is recovering and everything is looking good but someone very special to us is having tests and procedures. I am pausing in everything I've considered important lately...