I write here about my girls. My journal of our journey’s. Often the good stuff gets written. The pretty pictures posted. It is true, in the midst of a day, feelings of stress and chaos may take over. I may yell in exasperation at my kids or fold the laundry in haste or slam a door in angst. Moments that come, moments that go. Taken over by giggling kids, living room dance parties, serving a healthy delicious meal and even a fart joke. When I come to my computer to tell our story, it is these moments that come out more often than not. Because these are the moments that matter. Not the dirty laundry (literally and figuratively I suppose.)
Of course, I have shared many a post on confusion, frustration and mayhem as well. Honest posts on honest mothering. My perspective true, especially in those early days, of hazy exhaustion.
The small moments, the tales of dropped yogurt, felts on the table, not cleaning up after themselves, road rage, dirty floors, bickering, bite bargaining at dinner time, not listening, grocery shopping… Well these are real. These happen. Many of them I won’t ever forget even (nor would I want to) but they are not the ones that matter. When my girls read these journals, these are not the things they need to know. Besides, who has the energy to grab the camera to take a picture of another bloody spilled yogurt?
Actually, probably somebody who sees the art in drooping dairy.
It’s all a matter of perspective you see.
Let us look at July shall we?
At the Alice in Wonderland Tea Party at the lake, I could choose to remember the fact that Kaya hated her tea (even being pink!) and that she was terrified of that Queen of Hearts there in the back (and who can blame her!)
Oh what a beautiful shot of a darling little butterfly that I took just for Kaya since she lovvvveeesss butterflies right now. Nevermind that as I took this shot, she was riding her bike down the path in defiance crying her ugly cry and pouting “I don’t even like butterflies!”
Why is it with significant others, it is sometimes so much harder to look past the annoyances? I should look at this and see a fun-filled Obstacle Course Day but all I remember is bickering with Bal about him misplacing items that were to be in the course. Perspective. I must remember that. Lost hoola hoops and misplaced balls do not warrant the squabbles and bad moods that ensued…*
You could look at this and cry “What a Mess!”
Or I can relay a favourite saying of mine
“Excuse the Mess,
The Children are Busy
Or I can reveal that the bloody thing has just about drove me over the edge with the bad songs and constant sisterly battles over whose turn it is and I resort to those awful Mom sayings such as “If you two can not play nicely, then you won’t play at all!” and it ends up out of reach.
Or you can have that moment, then take another to look over at that awful pink singing machine that lights up your kids, and laugh outright. The songs, the drama, the momism, the teasing placement of it just out of reach, well damn, it is just funny! Yah, you can choose that too.
In a fairly dismal month of July weather-wise, we jumped on the one day of sun forecasted to meet up with friends and have a fairy princess picnic at the lake. Oh, there was pink lemonade and balloons, butterfly sandwiches, fancy clothes and fairy wings. There was even an ice cream maker! What could go wrong?
Well, what didn’t is the question.
Brennyn picked up the food platter and dropped it. A cold, windy storm blew in. Kids whined, balloons flew away, pink lemonade should have been hot chocolates…
Kaya got teary for no particular reason other than that I thought she was sad that our Fairy Princess Picnic was a failure. The morning had started out so bright and she had even whispered to me “Mommy I dreamed that it would be a sunny day for our picnic, AND IT IS!” My heart was literally breaking when I saw how sad she was that the storm came and I feared she was internalizing it all.
After abandoning ship (just in time for the huge rain to fall!), we get home and Daddy takes off her waaaayyy too small headband that was squishing her head and giving her a severe headache! I stood there and visually witnessed her go from pain to relief and then, miraculously, even a slight smile.
Which turned into a full one when we left all the picnic stuff in the car, curled up on the couch in a big girlie pile and watched cartoons and the pounding rain with blankies and cuddles.
I could remember the failed picnic but I prefer to remember the almost comical series of disasters while looking at my friend Hilary and just laughing. Here is a picture of the only smiles we got that day! The only picture I took amongst the chaos. But in that one picture, oh so many memories. Memorable ones even amongst the mayhem.
Oh man, just look at this face! I will never forget this face of Brennyn’s, nor this moment, going out on her first canoe ride pleading “Mommy… Mommy!” and my instinctively wanting to lunge after her and pull her out.Only knowing, at the same time, that if I did that, she wouldn’t come back into shore smiling, like this.Ready to hop in the canoe at every chance after that!
Now, this is a very bad picture of me holding Kaya after pulling her out from sleep to see the vast starry skies and her coveted Glow-in-the-Dark chair that she had never actually seen glow. I could focus on the fact that the next day she tells me “Mom, you should have let me sleep instead because it was too cold at night!”
But then I wouldn’t also hear her commentary that, “WOW, there are A LOT of stars in the sky! How many do you think Mom? Like 4 hundred 26 3-9-6-2! Is that a lot?”
If you’re going to get cold, you might as well get there filled with wonder.
Speaking of wonder, how about the awe of catching dragonflies and caterpillars. Better to put our energy there than dwell on the incessant mosquitoes and welt-style mozzie bites happening at the same time.
Really, what I am trying to say is that it is all our choice isn’t it?
We can see only the storm,
My Perspective. My Truth.