growing & learning with him
Here are the days and titles of the posts I will be sharing:
Monday
Thanks, JDaniel4’s Mom for having me. I never pass a silicon muffin tin at Bed Bath & Beyond without thinking of you. Ever.
I’m always thinking months in advance. I have no idea why I do this, because life has taught me over and over again that my plans do not matter. Someone else is flying this plane, and He’s got a much better view of the future than I do.
This spring I was determined to find a teaching job for next year. Not just any job though, I wanted my job back. The job I left in Texas, at the school I attended as a child. The job where all my friends still worked. The job that was the last one I held that made me happy.
It was all set. There was a math opening and the principal would even interview me via Skype since I was so far away. I began decorating my classroom in my head. I started panicking about childcare, schedules, the possibility of living apart from my husband for awhile.
Everything else in my life faded to a dull roar, a blur in the background. All I could think about was getting out of this city, getting away from bad memories, getting home to my family and friends.
And then I woke up one morning and opened an email that changed it all. As I read the words, “filled in-district,” I could hear brakes screaming in my head as all my plans ground to a halt.
Oh, how I moped. I was the mopiest mope you ever saw. And in the midst of my moping marathon, as I sat on the couch in the same yoga pants and t-shirt I’d worn the day before, my son climbed up in my lap with his nursery rhyme book.
“Read,” he demanded. So read we did, about the weasel that goes pop and the Sprats with their different dietary needs and that guy who is freaking out because he can’t find the Muffin Man.
Then we had cookies and lemonade and we sat on the porch and watched cars drive by, identifying them by their color and getting way too excited when a motorcycle would roar past.
I realized that the more I tried to make things happen, the more I had missed out on what was really happening.
I’m blessed to get to be a stay-at-home mom, especially in this economy. I’m lucky to live in a city that offers so much for its residents to enjoy – one of the biggest reasons we had for moving here in the first place.
And even though I no longer have family in this area, I’ve been blessed over and over again with beautiful friendships, both online and in real life here in Kansas City.
Today I turn 33. I’m not where I thought I’d be, but thanks to one small, sticky-fingered blonde boy, I know how wonderful it is to be where I am.
I was one of the Moms who crossed off the dates in her planner for how many days were left in the school year until my kids didn’t race out of the door in the morning.
Lamented the end of Summer since my kids would once again be gone for hours and hours on end.
And the volunteering … room mom, PTA, fundraising, auctions, fashion shows, crafts, parties, even teaching Sunday school. Volunteering at their school did not bring more joy to my children, they just saw a cranky Mom who was overwhelmed with commitments.
Now, believe me, there are days, many of them, where life still is crazed. (and cocktail hour arrives sooner rather than later) For the most part, life is filled with plans and activities of our own choosing.
The girls take some classes out and about, they have social lives, and we travel as often as we can. For example; If Dad is hosting a meeting at the Newark airport, it is not on our wishlist. A beach resort in Mexico, on the other hand, has our names on it. My time is also busy with My Blog and its deadlines, guest posts, writing commitments, and conferences … but this busy is rather self-imposed. After all, the world would hardly notice if I stepped off this somewhat indulgent ‘treadmill’.
Mid March through the end of April brings an interesting scenario to our lives. Each child’s Spring Break fell in different weeks. My husband’s still buried in Tax Season, so pulling one child out to go on a family Spring Break during the other child’s break won’t work. And to top it off, because of Tax Season, we’ve planned our family trip for late April, when neither child will be off. Confused yet? Yeah, me too. And a little put-out, frankly. While my husband was chugging away at his job in a time when he’s at his busiest (read: never home), I’m going to lose a ton of productivity not one week, but two! And then after that, comes our family vacation. Another week lost.
Until I realized that I’d been given a gift. A gift of private, quality time with each child, individually, for an entire week. A week where we could either go where the wind blew us or carefully plan what THAT child wanted to do without any input (read: vocal objections) from her sister.
And a gift it’s turning out to be. In ways I didn’t really expect.
For example, both of my children picked the zoo as a special place to go on their week off. One child wanted to stay for less than one hour when we went. She just wasn’t feeling it that day. At all. And guess what? If her sister had been along, we would have never been able to leave within the hour. Because her sister? We will be there 5 hours, easily. And I’ll STILL have to cut short some of the things she wants to do.
And the movie The Lorax. We saw it as a family. Then my youngest wanted to see it again as her “movie day.” We had a great time together, just she and I. No jockeying over who’s sitting where, who had their arm on the seat, who gets what snack. And guess what? This week when my oldest is off? She wants to see The Lorax again too!
I’m tempted to say, “Good Heavens, this is ridiculous. I’m doing the same things with each child on their week off that I could be doing with both of them to save time!”
I could easily say that because it would be true.
But instead, I’m treasuring each moment, replay that it is for me, with each child. Alone. Because I don’t often get private time with just one of them. And I get to appreciate each girl in a way that SHE needs to be appreciated, not in a way that’s balancing between their two needs simultaneously.
And when we (finally!) take our family trip at the end of April, both of their emotional tanks will be full because I’ll have been able to spend not just a moment, but an entire week pausing with them. Drinking them in. Loving them for their unique qualities.
And that gift may not come again next year. So this year I’m appreciating every minute of it.
I wanted us to do something big…something that would take a lot of effort for us to make happen. I wanted something that would bring us together and keep us close…close in our hearts and close in our thoughts. I wanted it to be something that we all didn’t need but would want.
We want them to learn how to pause life for a moment when they are young so that when they are older it will become a natural thing, not something they have to put on their calendar like a dental appointment. We want them to know that with just a short amount of time in a place that is surrounded not only with beauty but created with love that there is always a safe place to land…just like this garden will be for a butterfly.
I was super fortunate to meet Andrea of Good Girl Gone Redneck at the Type A Conference last summer. She is amazing! Why? She is super friendly and warm. Andrea is the type of blogger that welcomes her blog readers to join her on her writing journey and shares openly who she is. When I met her at Type A, she was exactly that way in person. Those who read her blog and those who know her in real life are both truly blessed.
Hi, everyone! I’m Andrea – otherwise known as Good Girl Gone Redneck.
When JDaniel4’s Mom asked me if I would be interested in guest posting for her, I might have squealed a little bit! I am thrilled she invited me here to share her sacred space. And I’m so honored to be here for this week’s Pause Life for a Moment.
As a mother, there are so many moments I experience with my daughter. I honestly could never even begin to capture them all. I often write them up on my blog, but what I’ve recognized is that sometimes I focus too much on the intense moments. The stresses of motherhood. The days she drives me crazy.
Don’t get me wrong, I love my daughter more than anything. But she is strong-willed (could be called stubborn), intense (highly emotional), and FIVE (have I mentioned she is five?). Many of the moments we share together are memories I capture and eventually rehash over and over again. But they’re not always the ones I want to hold onto. Or even plan to. They’re the ones where I ask myself, what could I have done differently? How could I have made it better? Easier? Less stressful? Could I have?
Why is it so hard to remind ourselves to take a breath and hold onto the good times? The moments when her eyes crinkle at the sides and remind me of my dad. When I wake her up in the mornings and her hair is all crazy and wild, and she immediately leans over and hugs me. Stretching out across her bed she practically takes me in her arms, grabs on, and won’t let go. Eyes sleepy – but bright. Her face was clear of any stress or emotion, just pure bliss. Flawless.
And instead of being frustrated when she doesn’t want to go to bed, why don’t I snap a mental picture of the way she lines up all her stuffed animals, covers them and her babies with blankets, and even gives them toy bottles? There’s almost nothing cuter, seriously.
Instead of pulling up memories of her shrieking or crying when she’s frustrated, why don’t I allow myself to truly hold onto the lyrics of her voice when she makes up a song? Or sings along with me? Or somehow sounds like a teeny opera singer – her voice projecting in song? Shouldn’t that be what I hold closest to my heart?
I think that pausing life for a moment is something we all need to do more. And yes – we’ll surely remember the not-so-fun days. The stressful times. The number of times we’ve had to say our child’s name before they actually DO what we ask of them. But isn’t motherhood about learning? Living? Loving? So our children teach us, and we learn to listen. We live incredibly full lives with and because of them. And we love them with all of our hearts.
Let’s hold onto that good stuff. Squish it really tightly and push it to the front of our brains. Make our memories flood with happiness and joy. And when we need to pause life for that moment or two – or ten – go ahead and do it. Because we’ll have a library of great things to look through when we need them. And I’m guessing that in about 8-10 years I’m really going to need them!
She does all this while working, raising twin boys, and being a wonderful wife. Kir is quite a lady.
When my friend asked me to write for PAUSE LIFE for a MOMENT, my first thought was a favorite song of mine by country singer, Kenny Chesney.
“Don’t Blink” is a story of a man on his 102nd birthday who after being asked for advice about “what life is about?” answers with these two words.
“Don’t Blink”.
I find it inspiring and moving and encourage you to seek out the lyrics or the song online and spend a few minutes listening to its words.
Thank you so much for asking me to be here today, it is truly an HONOR to be in your space my friend.
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As a self-professed lover of TV I am quite familiar with the Pause Button. I often like to imagine that DVRs were an invention with me in mind.
The truth is I very rarely watch anything in “REAL TIME” anymore. I mean, really who has the time for it? I can sleep, or fold clothes or make dinner or watch CARS 2 for the 117th time with my twin sons and never really miss a thing. Later I find I can fold clothes or make dinner or work on a blog post and still keep up with my favorite shows, the remote never far away from my hands.
For it never fails that LIFE intervenes.
“I need more milk mommy!”
“Please come and watch me go, potty mommy!”
“Can you tell me the story about Finn McMissle one more time mommy?? “
Each time the stories I get lost in are PAUSED for a moment, while I handle the duties of being a mother. I revel in that role so much so that even if my sighs are loud and my footsteps heavy on the stairs as I go to fetch something for one of them, my heart is light and happy that I get to do it.
You see my life was paused for four years as I waited to see if I would ever become a mom. Many times you’re life moves at a lightning-fast pace and you cannot keep up, that wasn’t the case for me as I battled infertility. My days, months, and years had become one long, drawn-out moment in the dark where I truly could never see a light at the end of that tunnel. In truth I would have done anything to be able to hit the PLAY button and continue the show.
It’s funny to look back and see how slow and sad that time of my life was, especially now when I’m working full time, writing a blog, attempting a book, raising my beautiful sons, and trying my best to be a good wife.
I need that Pause button now more than ever.
I look around me these days and see life racing by, my sons growing in every moment of every day and my mind packed with little moments, little instances, little significant stages that I want to write down so I don’t forget.
Once again the ability to stop and take a breath, to stand still for a moment and take everything in for better or worse is welcome. I used to find the sound of my own heartbeat so lonely but with the addition of two more that beat in time with it, it is an echo I love to hear.
Life is never really that accommodating anymore.
It passes and takes your little moments with it. Like a stream that looks calm on the surface, it is forever flowing underneath carrying those precious seconds with it. I find that in those times, I am grateful for the sparkles on the water, those small shimmers of memories that will fill up my heart for the time when I have the rare but sweet opportunity to reach the remote and press PAUSE.
A couple of weeks ago, I woke up a half hour later than I usually do. Have you ever noticed how this can set the tone for your entire day? I work from home, so between that and juggling school schedules and events, my days rely very much on a schedule. But this particular day? That schedule was off. So, I rushed.
I rushed through our morning routine- I rushed through my morning cup of coffee. I rushed my kids through breakfast.
I rushed my son onto the bus. I rushed my daughter to preschool drop off.
I rushed through my emails and more coffee. I spent the day spinning my wheels, so to speak, trying to get things done.
I rushed to get my daughter from school on time. I rushed home and through lunch and part of the afternoon. I rushed out the door to grab my son from the bus stop.
The bus was late. On a day where I had been nothing but behind, of course the bus was late. When my son finally arrived, he came bounding off of the bus in excitement. He had gotten a prize at school and he was so excited. He chattered away with my daughter excitedly chiming in to her big brother. She grabbed his hand and they walked down the sidewalk in front of me. As I followed behind, listening to their excited conversation, I had a memory of him holding her as a newborn- now, here they were, two siblings lost in conversation.
The time goes quickly and my how things change. But that moment stunned me into realizing just how much time I spend rushing.
I walked home a little slower. I put some things away. I gathered my kids in my arms and smothered them with kisses (much to my son’s chagrin). I put laundry aside, work on hold, and everything else in the background. That afternoon, I did nothing but enjoy being with my kids. And I’m so glad I did.
Life is busy. There are things to get done, deadlines to meet, places to be, and activities to attend. But you only get to live once and every so often, you have to remember to pause life. Because it won’t pause for you.
I am so blessed to have Green Grandma here today to share this amazing post. I hope that you will pause a moment after reading it to visit her wonderful blog and read about her new book Vinegar Fridays.
She truly is a wonderful writer and storyteller.
“I’m going back to Iraq,” my brand-new son-in-law said.
I stopped breathing. Tom and our daughter, Bethany, informed us they had something they needed to tell us and as we sat around the dining room table with hopes of a grandbaby on the way or something else equally wonderful, a cloak of worry descended upon me.
“My unit’s been deployed,” the Marine sergeant continued, “and I volunteered to go with them.”
I couldn’t speak. Fear gripped me with its threat of impending doom. After all, I was widowed at just 32. Was history going to repeat itself? Would my daughter hug her husband goodbye, never to see him again?
I was scared.
For the next month, I struggled to sleep. I worried constantly. I played out scenes in my head – the knock on my daughter’s door, the primal scream, I knew too well, emerging from the depths of her soul. I rushing to get there to offer her comfort that was impossible to give. My own collapsed onto the floor as I heard the news. Would he be killed, or would he come home severely maimed, altering their lives forever?
I had this worrying thing down to an art.
One day, as I ripped the previous day’s saying from my inspirational page-a-day calendar, I read these words:
I paused and read it again. Something started to happen in me … I could feel it. I started to weep.
At that moment, my life changed. Dramatically. Hopefully, forever.
As a writer, I never take for granted the gift of imagination with which God blessed me. After all, what fiction writer can be without it? It is a necessary tool of our trade; one with which, I believe, we are born. God planted the desire to write in me from the time I was a small child. Imagination. What a blessed gift! A gift I turned into a curse.
Before my first husband was killed in a flash fire, I worried about him all the time. If he was ten minutes late, I was pacing. For fifteen minutes, I was crying. Twenty minutes, I was calling the local hospitals. What a rotten way to live … for both of us. I was just so worried that he was going to die. And he did. Worrying did not prevent his death; it simply made his life with me a bit on edge. That is something I will regret forever.
Quite honestly, however, I didn’t know I had a choice.
“I’m just a worrier,” I would say, excusing this flaw in my character as an inborn trait I had no control over. “It’s just the way I am.”
The fact is I did have control over this character flaw. We all do. We can choose not to worry. For me, it was as simple as realizing I was misusing the gift God gave me. I admit it — I have a rather vivid imagination … and I was wasting it on worrying.
That morning, over five years ago, I came up with this strategy:
When I start to feel anxious, I ask myself this question – Am I projecting into the future and imaging things that might happen, or is this a legitimate concern that requires some action on my part?
If there is no real basis for my worry, I dismiss it. If, on the other hand, I’m concerned about catching a cold or whether or not I paid a bill, I proactively take steps to alleviate the concern. I take extra vitamins or wash my hands more often or check my online bank statement to see if the payment went through. Do you see the difference? A concern often requires action.
There was nothing I could do to keep my son-in-law safe. No amount of sleepless nights would prevent my daughter from early widowhood. So I rode out Tom’s deployment in prayer for him, leaving his safety in the hands of his Heavenly Father and leaving my worry in His hands, too. After all, He’s God, and He was more than happy to take it off me.
And you know what? Tom made it home safely and is now co-parenting an active little boy who, no doubt, will challenge this ‘no worry’ approach to life his grandma has. But for now, I’m worrying less and enjoying life more … letting my imagination lead me into the wonderful world of fiction.
Hana Haatainen Caye, agency principal for
When I first started Pause Life for a Moment last spring, it was supposed to be a short series of guest post leading up to Easter. Well, it didn’t end when Easter came. It has continued to be a part of my weekly line up of posts.
During the month of December and a few other times during the year instead of having guest posts, I wrote the posts myself.
I found that I really enjoyed sharing ways to pause life along with lessons I was learning during pauses. It occurred to me that I could change the series to being my posts with a link up for others to share that Pause Life for a Moment post. After a lot of prayers and pausing about making this change, I decided that it is a great idea, but not the right time to make that change.
The reason the series started in the first place was to share with you bloggers that you may not have read before.
I don’t tend to have specific blogging niche that I follow when reading blogs. The blogs I am drawn to cover a wide spectrum. There are a few things all the blogs have in common. They are that they are written by amazing women that love their families, love writing, and are passionate about what they write about.
If you have followed the series from the beginning, you know that there have only been a few Pause Life for a Moment posts are even about the same theme. Those that have been similar are different in that the teller brings to their post their own life experiences.
Due to my indecision about the direction of this series, a line up of guest posters hasn’t been set up for the new year. I will be e-mailing several people this week to see if they are interested in sharing in the coming weeks.
I know some of you are thinking I hope she contacts me. If that is what you are thinking, I would love to hear from you. I can’t 100% promise that you will be picked. Why? When I contact someone about guest posting, I have read their blog for a while. This has given me a sense of their writing style and way of approaching writing. If you let me know you would like to guest post, I will start to follow your writing for a short time and see if we would be a good fit.
This post is not my ordinary Pause Life for a Moment post but, I did want to pause and let you know where I think this series is going.
