Just a Glimpse

Our girl, Lux, has always marched to the beat of her own drum. She is an incredibly creative girl, and she is always looking for the next project, or developing with her next big idea. This can be exhausting for Nate and I as parents.  There are always paper clippings, markers, and q-tips with glue, and cut up straws and cereal boxes to be found on her floor.  She usually has glue or glitter in her hair and pen markings all over her hands and clothes.  This is a girl who is always in need of "just one more minute!" or "a piece of string about *this* long..." or " a door cut into this piece cardboard" and Nate and I are typically the wingmen to her zaney ideas.  We are the ones who can actually cut through cardboard.  We are the ones who know where to find the string.  We are the ones who can help solve the mystery of how to hang the towel from the door as to make a tent for the pretend world she has created.

There are times when this constant desire of hers to fulfill creative ideas overwhelms me.  Sometimes Nate and I have to "talk her down from the ledge", so to speak, and remind her of what is realistically possible.  But we love this girl, and are completely inspired and amazed by her fascinating mind.  It is that part of us that leaves the creative leash loose so far as no one is getting hurt, and allows her to experiment and develop and accomplish her goals.

As I stood in her room the other day I felt the need to document this little world of hers.  I know someday her interests will change, and the childlike dreamland she has made for herself will be torn down and replaces with new teenage fascinations.  And I dont want to forget this spot in time.  This time when she needed us so often to help in the process. When she was still innocent, and the creations were inspired by toys and treats and fun.  A time when she was not intimidated by what seems impossible or by what the world may think of her work.  A time of endless possibilities for a girl age 9.

A favorite painting of mine, made by Lux.

Her art entries for school along with various other drawings and art work.

little creations

Typically when she learns something new at school that inspires her she creates a piece of artwork to commemorate it. This one is in honor of Roy G. Biv and the song they learned about the color spectrum.

And this was during her class study of the Revolutionary War.

Some hanging objects inspired by a study of the solar system. And a chain link made in class.

A bag made of Dum-Dum wrappers.

And one made of duct tape.

A display inspired by her favorite iphone game, Stick Man Epic.

And one for her favorite tv show at the time, Blue Water High.

Another favorite tv show, H2O.

Fortune tellers in a variety of colors.

Doodles

Tons of books written and illustrated by Lux.

Just a few more books.

Clothing designs for dolls of all kinds.

The sign upon entering her room..

The "arcade" games inside...

The actual game she created with inspiration from a project at school.

The claw machine created for a class project.

And her New Year's Resolution written in a new font she is learning, "New Years Resolution: Fill up my whole bedroom with my drawings. Yea, I can draw that much."

Thoughts and Reflections on Being Midlife...

Tomorrow I turn 40.

It is here. No turning back.  I am literally hours from my 40th birthday. And I dont know what to do.  I am cleaning the house per usual.  I am washing dishes and paying bills and all the while in the back of my mind I am thinking:

Tomorrow I turn 40.

I am also having PMS, which is so unfortunate for everyone involved.  When my dear husband realized these two events were culminating on the same weekend he deemed them "the perfect storm." He then asked, quietly, with both love and fear in his eyes..."What should I do?"

Tomorrow I turn 40.

40. The same age my mom was when I was 19. But she was so...old. Is this how she felt? She felt like she was young and hip and full of life and surely only 29, or 33 tops? Because I am still young! I am not a "ma'am!" I am not "Mrs. Corrona!" (well, I am, but you know what I mean..) This is all so weird. I was just 30. I blinked my eyes, (or is it 'blunk' my eyes? or 'blanked' my eyes? It's already happening, improper grammar usage... another casualty of age) and had gray hairs and wrinkles and "mom arms" and, well, other stuff.

I am sitting at my computer dressed, with a towel on my head, having just showered; having just contemplated the meaning of this monumental day that is so quickly approaching.  Every minute another piece of my youthful self disappearing in the sands of time. (It seems I am becoming more dramatic by the minute, too...)

Tomorrow I turn 40.

I already know it will be just another day.  Really, nothing will change.  I will (God willing) awaken as usual, get kids off to school, do some dishes, and live another day.  But I will be 40.  F-O-R-T-Y. for-tay. fordee. no longer 39,

Tomorrow I turn 40.

Typically when summer ends and the school year begins I am excited. I am so looking forward to the time alone; time spent accomplishing tasks I have put off the last three months because they are just too difficult to tackle with the kids under foot.  And because the summer offers me such little independence, and those dog days seem to last forever, about a month in I will often resort to hiding in the bathroom to finish a good book, or pulling weeds and mowing the lawn for some "peace and quiet." I begin to wonder how I will possibly make it through the summer? How can I make it through the day?

But something happened this year during that last week before school.  I began to realize how much I would miss them.  As difficult as those summer days could be, on the night before school I found myself teary-eyed and sad to see them go.  And after they boarded the bus that next morning I found the house terribly quiet, and I was felt very alone.  It was such wonderful wake up call to the fact that one day my girls would be moving on and the days of them running through the house making a racket would soon come to an end.  And I would not be seeing them for days or weeks at a time and that would be good because they will have gone forth on their own as every child should, but it would also be terribly difficult to see them go.  And it reminded me of these words I had once read by Dr. James Dobson that meant so much before, but have suddenly left a profound impact on my life.  

Dr James Dobson, "Night Light for Parents"

(please excuse the funny way this transfered over to my blog:)

1st World Problems.

I have found that one of the most difficult things about being a mother is the lack of time alone.  And the second most difficult thing about it is getting your husband to understand that.  I know I don't do a lot of "work," and that most husbands spend hours a day fighting the good fight to bring home a paycheck to feed their families.  I know that it is a privilege to even have a partner to share parenting duties with, and a blessing to be able to stay home with my kids.  I love my kids.  I would give my life for my kids.  But I still need time alone.  Time that does not involve meeting any other person's needs.

Recently (5 minutes ago) Nate and I became frustrated with each other over this "need for time alone."  The conversation went something like this.

Me: "Sometime in the next few days can I just have some time alone? Time to go do whatever?"
Nate: "Yeah...sure.  How about tomorrow (Saturday) morning before swim lessons."
Me: "Swim lessons start at 11:30.  I'd rather take some time when there isnt a deadline on when I have to be home."
Nate: "I always have to come home too.  I dont think it is possible to not have a time to be home."
Me: "What I mean is, that feels rushed.  I'd rather do it some other time."
Nate: "You are getting ready to have 5 days a week of free time with school starting soon."
Me: "I know, but it has been a long summer without any free time.  I just want to be alone to do my own thing. Why are you getting frustrated?"
Nate: "Because I just had a hard week of work and I am frustrated that you..."


At that point I said something about it not being a good time to talk about this, and he agreed.  But Im thinking we are not alone in these conversations.  I am thinking there are a lot of husbands and wives having this conversations.  I dont have a concrete reason for my request, I just know that it is something I need. It has nothing to do with shirking my responsibilities or thinking my work is somehow more difficult or tiresome than his.  It has to do with taking care of myself so that I can continue to meet all of the other needs that are before me each day. And now I have had some time alone writing this post. And now I feel refreshed enough to go tackle the BBQ chicken dinner my family is waiting on.  And now I will be a much more pleasant wife and mother to be around. Because I had some time alone.

Something to Smile About

There has been so much sadness in the world lately I wanted to post something that might, for just a moment, offer a bit of relief from the madness.  I have always been a fan of Jerry Seinfeld's work, and Nate recently came across this new venture of his "Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee." We found it thoroughly enjoyable and are looking forward to his next installment.  Let me know what you think! (ps if you cant view it here go to this link.)

a list

 

My lovely sister in law Andrea recently posted a list at her blog titled "things I miss." I love her list and hope you will read all of it's goodness over at hulaseventy.  Here are a few things I miss:


~ having family all together, often
~ the fresh air of my hometown
~ learning new things regularly
~ dance classes
~ the Walla Walla Balloon Stampede

Life Goes On

Me at 23, in Alaska

I am still on the path to 40.  Yep.  No looking back now, it is really happening.  And real soon.  Before I know it I will be, officially, 40.  And there's an awful lot I have experienced over the past 40 years.  I vaguely remember choking on a lifesaver about the age of 5.  I mean really choking--to the point of almost passing out.  And being turned upside down by someone and whacked on the back until that tiny (ironically called) "lifesaver" flew out of my mouth and onto the floor.  And I remember 1st grade at Edison Elementary, with Mrs. Drumheller as my teacher.  Mrs. Drumheller who sent a note home to my parents saying I was bossy and talked too much.  I also ripped the shirt off of a little boy that year while playing chase on the playground, and I split my chin open in P.E.  I guess '79 wasn't a great year for me.

I also remember that in 2nd grade Mrs. Kerr would occasionally show up to class with a wig on and say she was Mrs. something-or-other. And I just knew it was Mrs. Kerr, but she would never admit it.  And the following year I had the frightening Mr. Marshall with white junk forever stuck to the sides of his mouth. I heard he was later fired for some sort of losing his temper on a kid. Fourth and fifth grade were spent at Blue Ridge, a brand new, state of the art school that was half underground.  Michael Jackson's "Billie Jean" and The Go-Go's "Beauty and the Beat" were the soundtracks to that season of life.  And while the cool kids were breakdancing at recess I was awkward and backwards, big teeth and glasses. Not a great look for me. Not cool at all.

By sixth grade I had upgraded to glasses that tinted to sunglasses when outside.  This is clearly evident in the beginning of the year picture my teacher took of each of us on the jungle gym. Only 2 pairs of glasses were tinted in the photos--the teacher's and mine. Im pretty sure this was not the message I wanted to send to my new class at Prospect Point. The glasses were gone by Christmas.

I recall a lot of neon on clothes and shoes and socks that year, and paint splatters were in.  And I had my first boyfriends. There was a lot of bike riding and kick the can til dark.  And Wham! and Bananarama. And Little League.  Both playing and watching the boys play. And then more bike riding.

Big sweaters and jean jackets seem to define Garrison Jr. High for me.  Hair was getting big then, too--literally and figuratively. I hated dressing down for PE. And somehow I found myself locked into the position of french braiding the "bully girl's" hair before class every day.  Not sure how I got myself into that pickle, but I think it actually got me out of a few jams that year.  She was one tough cookie! The school dance once a month was the best time ever, and then after we would walk over to Abby's Pizza and hang out til our parents picked us up. I remember that sense of freedom, and also the naivete, of being young and out at night and with your favorite people in the world--or as jr. high goes--your favorite people in the world for that moment.

High school came and went in the blink of an eye.  I spent way too much time concentrating on friends and boys than on my school work.  I remember barely passing my driver's test by 2 points, and graduating with a C in Pottery and an A in Advanced English.  I still can't believe I was worse at Pottery than English! I made an ocean of bad decisions in high school, and very few good ones. Thinking back on those years I am filled with regret.  It should have been an amazing time in my life, and I wish I had spent more time treasuring it and the people around me.

Five years of college, work and marriage defined my 20's.  My 30's have been all about raising a family. And now, my 40's...

Recently Nate and I were talking about the John Mellencamp song "Jack and Diane" and how we totally get now what he sings about in the chorus: "Oh yeah, life goes on...long after the thrill of living is gone." And sometimes that is how it feels.  Like the good ole days have long since passed and the thrill of living is gone.  The drudgery of adulthood sets in and I wonder, ""What happened to those glory days of my youth?"  They disappeared so quickly and I never fully appreciated them while experiencing them.

I have nothing at all to complain about. My life truly has become all I ever wanted it to be.  I am astonished by what God has done.  But I do sometimes wonder what happens next.  I used to dread growing older, but Im kind of getting excited about it now. I think it could be a bit of a new adventure. And that means something to look forward to. So Im looking forward. Just a little.