Category: Yearly Goals

I don’t know what to write tonight.

If I wasn’t almost 18 months along on this habit of reporting to myself each Sunday night, I’d skip it entirely.

In Church today I had a very sweet elderly lady say to me (after watching me struggle with children for over an hour) “You have such a beautiful family.”

And you know what I did when she said that?  I started crying.  Lovely response, wasn’t it?

Sometimes I hear words like that and think to myself, ” What family are you talking about?
Are you talking about the teenager who pokes his younger brothers and sisters, or the girl who rubs her hair on the bench and ends up looking like an orphan before we’re done, or the baby who always starts screaming and has to be rushed out of the room?  Are you talking about the little boy who lays on the floor and wails that he doesn’t want to go to class?  Surely you couldn’t be talking about my family.”

Then again, maybe she is.  Perhaps she sees something I don’t see.  Perhaps her perspective offers a picture that’s hard to see when your shirt has peanut butter smeared on it and someone just dumped the contents of your purse on the ground.  Perhaps there’s something there, something I don’t perceive when every conversation I have is interrupted half a dozen times and the carpet is buried under six inches of clothing.  Perhaps she sees us differently because she’s walked this road herself and looks back on the twists and turns and mud puddles with wisdom I have yet to gain.

Still, I cried.  I thanked her for her comment and said it was very kind of her to say it.  She followed by saying my children are so good.    Are they?  I wondered.  Will they end up as good as they need to be?  My response:  “Thank you again.  I believe they’re trying.”  Then I spent the rest of the day wiping away random tears that suddenly sprang from my heart to my cheeks before I could check them.

What, really, does it mean to be a good Mom?  It probably means different things to all of us, or perhaps we all have the same pile of answers but we tend to sort them in different ratios in our homes.  I’ll be honest.  Right now I have a whole lot more questions than I have answers.  I’m trying to learn.  Occasionally I’ll feel like I made good progress in one area only to turn around and realize I’ve regressed in another.  I find myself in an unfamiliar place right now, a place I’m struggling to master.

I almost want to laugh at the grand goals I set in January.  They also make me want to cry.  I see so little change from week to week, it seems a joke to try to quantify the progress.  Habits?  I can list the bad ones, but good habits?  Do I have any of those?  I hang on, however, to the thought that if I don’t give up I might look back at the close of the year and see something worth mentioning.

So here I am.

We finished our soccer season yesterday.  Still to come:  lacrosse playoffs and soccer tryouts for next year.

The house looks a little better.

I spent more time reading, both individually as well as reading aloud to my children.

I learned some new things this week, like how to piece curves and how best to prepare a hole for a peony root.  And how to make running to your car in a massive downpour with three young children in your Costco shopping cart an adventure.  (You take a deep breath, look around at the 50 people huddled near the doors watching for their husbands to drive up so they can jump in, then say out loud, “Ready, set, GOOO!” to your kids while you dash out in the rain and run through an inch of standing water in the parking lot that was dry ten minutes earlier while your five year old son yells “YES!” and your three year old daughter starts to cry, “Mommy, I’m wet.  Please, Mommy, please!” and your baby looks at you like “How could you do this to me?”  Then you drive home with your sopping wet clothes stuck to your back.)

Mostly I’m learning how unqualified I really am for my responsibilities as a mother, which makes me grateful for things like prayer and repentance.  And I’m trying to see that beautiful family that people mention occasionally, even when our messes obscure the view.

Two more weeks of school.

I think I can, I think I can, I think I can….

xo, Jennifer

May is an interesting month.

There’s a reason why I dread it.  We’re too busy.  We’re tired.  We’re never home.  End of year assignments inevitably come, bringing various family members to the brink of tears.  Soccer games.  Recitals.  Soccer tryouts.  Registration for school the next year.  Scheduling for the summer.

It doesn’t matter how hard I try to prevent it.  It doesn’t matter that I know it’s coming.  The stress still builds and I still feel like our lives begin to unravel; first slowly and then rapidly until at last I wonder which will come to an end first, the school year or the string, or perhaps my sanity.   I’m afraid my sanity is running low.

Here I sit, midway through the month.  We’re in the thick of it.  Once again, I wonder if we’ll make it.  Sometimes I hate this month.  I hate it because it spotlights all my failings.  I hate it because I always forget this or miss that.  I hate it because the house is a mess.  I hate the late night trips to the store for this or that project.  I hate the last minute rush to provide yet another plate of cookies for whatever.  I hate it because I’m behind on laundry.  I hate it because we’re too busy to tackle the yard.  I hate the way we live exhausted.  I hate it because it makes me feel like a failure.  I always wonder what’s become of me and if I have any potential after all.

I just used the word “hate” a lot of times.  I know it’s just a month, and a lot of great things happen in May.   Every year I promise myself it will be different and I’m so disappointed when it isn’t.

Ok, enough ranting.

It was another rugged week.   If I didn’t gain ground,  I suppose I gave up a minimal amount.

We had a party of sorts on Friday night.  We let our oldest two invite a bunch of friends over to grill hot dogs, roast marshmallows, and play night games.  Our numbers 2 and 3 also invited a friend.  It went well and everyone had a great time.  We had around 30 kids running around for several hours.  It took both of us to manage it, but my husband and I pulled it off and had fun doing it.

We also had our busiest weekend as far as travel for soccer.  It worked out.

I’m reading Team of Rivals in every spare minute.  I love this book.  I have only 2 1/2 chapters left and am feeling sad about finishing.  I don’t want Lincoln to die.   More on this topic soon.  I mention it only because reading is a habit I’m re-enthroning this year.

It’s 5:30 p.m. as I type this, but I’m falling asleep as I do.  I’d best get dinner finished and on the table so we can get a decent night’s sleep.  I hope your month is going well, and that your week is great!

Jennifer

Happy Mothers Day to all.  I hope your day has been one that reminded you why you’re doing what you’re doing, that it matters, and that while none of us will ever be a perfect woman you can simply do your best.  It seems to me that’s the real purpose of Mother’s Day.    The rest of it is either fluff or guilt-inducing.

I’m not sure what to write about my week.  The general substance of life in the past 7 days has been covered here and here .   I harvested what I sowed:  not much.

Yesterday I drove six children to Logan Utah to visit my adorable sister and her husband.  He was graduating from Utah State University and it was fun to celebrate with them for a few hours.

In spite of my instructions to my husband that Mother’s Day was canceled this year, he’s worked hard and made it a nice day.  He cooked me a nice breakfast and took care of dinner.  I really didn’t feel like there was anything to celebrate today; my list of things I’ve messed up is significantly longer than the list of things I’m doing right.    As we tried to leave for Church this morning my three year old daughter got on the rocking chair to sing this song:  “I hate Mommy.  I hate Mommy.”  It’s really just a day.  The baby still cries, the boys still poke each other, the house still gets messed up.  It is nice, however, to receive a sincere note from your daughter and to hear your 13 year old son act like he might actually like you someday.

So here we are, ready to start what will likely turn out to be the busiest, most stressful week of the year.  I am confident none of us will get the stomach flu; we covered that last week.  I’m not so confident about most other things.

For the record:

Housekeeping :  still behind, but trying to gain ground.  Spent some time trying to organize the basement storage room, selecting things to get rid of as well.

Planning:
working on a system that will work for me on a weekly and daily basis.  I hope to master this soon.

Reading:
plowing through Team of Rivals.  Still.  When I have time to pick it up, I’m loving it.  I am more amazed by Abraham Lincoln all the time.

Finisher:
finished a small project.  Mostly disgusted with myself, though.

Record Keeping:
spent time writing in my journal today, working through a concern I have.

Creativity:
had big plans for Mother’s Day, but all were postponed due to illness.

A Soft Reply:
I’m a lecturer by nature, but am trying to reform myself.  I bit my tongue at least once each day when talking to my oldest son and refrained from lecturing.

And there you have it.

Wishing you a great week, Jennifer