The Name is Mom ~ I love the name

Many times over my journey as a mom I've considered, deeply, the way the first days of motherhood changed me. I didn't care about anything except: the baby. Was he awake? Was he asleep? Was he hungry? What does he look like now? Is he really mine? Should I change his outfit? Will he be cold if I take him out? Does he like the Baby Bjorn? Is he hungry? Where did he come from? How did I get to be this person?

My interior world had many rooms. Believer. Wife. Advertising Gal. Shopper. Traveler. Granddaughter. Daughter. Sister. But a week or two after the little stranger moved into my life, I figured it out. I loved this room best. The mom room. The one with the daddy, and the delicious little boy. Most of life came fairly easy. I had a good eater and sleeper. A couple of months into motherhood, I was introduced to a group of fabulous friends, seven other moms with their firstborns too. The days were mostly lovely and simple and full of magical discovery.

I struggled a bit when, after a long, long leave of absence, I went back to work. It lasted a month and I knew I had to leave. The tug on my heart was too heavy. Somehow, my boss, the owner of the firm, made a compelling argument for a three day work week. My little guy and I worked out a way. He spent those days with a mom from my group, a wonderful woman with a girl two days older than my guy. She was hoping to care for one other child.

It worked for a while. Three days of work and four days being a staying mostly at home mommie.
We wandered the neighborhoods near our apartment on the beach. Spent time at the park, the beach, and home. Contentment reigned. Time moved on and we moved into a house, had baby sister join us, changed jobs, started school, etc.

The Mom Room became bigger, not quite as simple, but remains my favorite. Here is where I learn the most, feel the most, change the most. I see parts of my own mom, my sister, my Mother's Group gals, my neighbors, grandmas and the like in the shape of my parenting. Maybe it's that motherhood demands such action and reaction that you grow here or else. And, this isn't to say my life isn't full of growing and learning and changing in all the other dimensions. My life is full. But being a mom effects everything I am and everything I do and for that I am and will be eternally grateful.

Thanks to all who participated in celebrating Mom.

A fabulous Mom moment occurred last Saturday afternoon. I looked out onto the front porch to see my girlie and her pal Sophia in their bathing suits with a big brown bucket.
They were bobbing for apples.
After a giggle, my heart was so warmed watching my sweet bird sharing one of her favorite childhood days with her friend. Bobbing for apples happened first in fall when she was very little, probably two and then became a silly and high demand summer activity a few of years ago.
How darling that some seasonal fun in our backyard became the inventing spring afternoon affair! Who knew?

Photo from a great blog, Dishin'. http://dishin.wordpress.com/2009/10/30/halloween-memories-fall-spinach-salad-friday-favs/

The Early Influencers ~ The Name is Mom

For some reason, I originally bristled at the language, "It takes a village to raise a child." I'm sure the bristling came out of my loyalty to my mom who did just fine raising us on her own, thank you very much. But that loyalty and the bristling are misplaced. I had the benefit of community. There were women and men in the neighborhood and at church who really filled in gaps with love, time and training that made my world bigger, more interesting. They contributed by enjoying my time with them and gave dimension with gifts of thought and experience. I just needed to look a bit, to see the dimension.
I remember the first time I slept overnight at a friend's house. Lonnie,  Lisa's mom, made this magical mystery, French Toast. And she sprinkled powdered sugar on it right on my plate! My Aunt Nicki kept me for two weeks when my mom had my sister. It was a favorite vacation. I lived with cats, studied my teenaged cousin girls, sat in the back seat of her Riviera and learned the value of short summer naps. Nancy Ramocco noticed that I needed braces and offered to drive me to and from appointments during my tin grin years, while Mom was at work. We had the best conversations on the way. Gwenny's mom, Cindy Pitman knew how much I liked to swim and invited us to her pool on many, many hot summer Sundays. My grandmother Edith moved in to live with us when I was a sixth grader and taught me how to keep a home; cooking, cleaning, straightening, along with sewing, singing and stories of her youth. Evelyn Christiansen noted a leadership quality in me and suggested I become youth group president at church. When I did, she continued the encouragement by making sure I was one of the church's delegates to the diocesan convention of the Episcopal Church when I was in college. Bob Attebery took me to Dodger Games. Freddie Fosco reminded me how much better the Cubs were than the Dodgers and suggested I change the oil in my first car.
I realize, this is just a smattering of the influencers. They are many. Adding their own color to my personal tapestry. When I think about them in this way, I'm filled with joy as I see their rich gifts. I also warm greatly to the thought of what the villagers here are offering my own kiddos.
Who forms your village?

Quotable Sunday ~ The Name is Mom

"The ordinary arts we practice every day at home are of more importance to the soul than their simplicity might suggest."

- Thomas More

How I love being taught by the other Mamas ~ The Name is Mom

"Thank you, Mom!"

Very simply, I love learning more about being Mom. I am in the phase with a pre and a teen where I'm doing the mom thing differently. I feel more awake and aware in it than ever. I like it. My awakening is to the changes around my folks. They are thinkers and doers and interesting people. My mothering requires wisdom and thought.
Imagine how thrilled I am to find this post from Mary at The Yellow Door Paperie on teaching gratitude. I hope you enjoy it too. What inspires you on your path?

Quotable Sunday ~ The Name is Mom

"What am I supposed to do with my life?  The question of how to live our lives especially presses on those of us who sense we are not merely humans trying to be spiritual, but are deeply spiritual beings endeavoring to live as fully human."

- Brent Bill, The Sacred Compass

Spiritual motherhood might be more interesting a consideration than I have, well, considered. It isn't the intentional teaching of the theological thought, the Bible story, the scripture. It is the glasses I loan to my boy or my girl who, standing in the yard, declares to the beauty of the night's sky -- "Wow!," when I simply say, "Yes -- He is that amazing."

A morning in the garden ~ The Name is Mom

I found myself in Mary's garden this morning for coffee. My friend, Mary is gifted with eyes to see things that aren't there - yet. So, a few weeks ago, I noticed the addition of an avocado-flesh colored market umbrella in the front yard of her house. In the days that followed, black winged rattan chairs, a square table and Sister Theresa hydrangeas came into place. Now mind you, this isn't the front yard. This is the garden space under the front window in front of the iceberg roses and behind the boxwoods. We become the flowers in this garden. My Dear and I have spent time over summer drinks, eating Swedish Meatballs and potatoes and chatting in this space with these dear, dear friends.

This morning, I went over in PJs with my coffee cup to savor the morning, the paper, the catching up and the over-cast to sunny morning. Mary's boys are old. High school and college old. She's experiencing that stage. Only one appeared. A while into our languorous and chatty, morning state, Marjorie joined. (With her orchid oolong tea and the amazing mesh infuser.)

And then, the onslaught, Bob the most elegant neighbor alive, in his pressed jeans and cane ready for his hike, Liz, on her way to doing Ann's garden, Marjorie's cat-like and beautiful eldest girl, who is younger than my youngest, and her baby who is decidedly six. Touching base, enjoying our enjoyment and liking the idea of a day beginning with time for sitting in the garden.

We didn't really talk about much Mom stuff. Mary's on a brilliant design project for friends with a rental to be dressed in Laguna. Marjorie, who's working on a Master's in design herself, is looking forward to an elegant evening tonight at a benefit and is acting as a tour docent tomorrow. I'm thinking about plantings, sprucing and reading. Our kiddos are in a musical the next two nights.

The morning reminded me of this: the other mothers, those how have been and are still going along, my path are the one's who breathe the sweetest fragrance into my days. An hour in their presence can be like a day.

Who are the other Mothers, the gals you connect to and what do they bring?

Family ~ The Name is Mom

You don't choose your family. they are God's gift to you, as you are to them. -- Desmond Tutu

After celebrating Mother's Day with a simple lunch with my mom and my family, I am quietly grateful. A card or two, a bottle of my favorite perfume and couch dwellers laughing together at a very silly movie.

I couldn't ask for more. Or less.
They are the best people I know and the ones I love the very most.
The perfume, while lovely, is superfluous when I consider the hearts beating around me. Mine, all mine.
What joy.

The Happy Mother's Day Mom ~ The Name is Mom

Here she is in the midst of an art show at my daughter's school. The one who defined the word, Mom, for me. For those of you who, like me, enjoy a list, here are her astounding accomplishments:

• Taught me, from the first skin on skin touch of my life, the meaning of faithful love
• Raised two girls, in the face of the unpredictable, inconceivable event of her husband leaving her when her second daughter was just days old
• Walked, whistling in the dark, with a desperate need for her heavenly Father, seeking and trusting Him for everything
• Made ball gowns for grown up ladies
• Made school and play clothes for not-so-grown-up young ladies
• Taught that "young and lady" were inextricably linked words which did not exclude fun, but did require discernment
• Worked, when many moms stayed at home
• Cooked endless meals when the kitchen was her least favorite room
• Responded to every little peep, tear, wail, story, action, need, desire, requirement coming from either my sister or me and often with the word, "no"
• Gave up things I can't imagine or haven't considered to provide a home and those previously mentioned "needs"
• Repaired endless tears, rips, breaks to toys, clothes and bears
• Scolded
• Cajoled
• Loved
• Encouraged
• Never (NEVER!) missed a concert from the time I picked up my violin in 7th grade until I graduated college and there were many orchestras 
• Typed term papers that were started waaay too late
• Let go when I moved for my career, but was never really too far
• Moved in for weeks when the babies came
• "Reminded" me of all the mommie techniques required for those babies
• Hosts endless overnights and after school meals for my kiddos
• Loves at every corner
• Tells good secrets 
• Shares every experience
• Houses old secrets
• Giggles in cahoots
• Listens

Mom is somewhat ageless. My cousin Pam told me yesterday about my mom's secret plan to focus on herself over summer so she can take on 4th graders three days a week after school and 6th graders every Wednesday morning. After the recent passing of our next door neighbor, Mom announced she's also decided not to make friends with anyone over 40. They can't be relied upon to be around when she wants to play.
I love her like crazy and I'm very aware, very aware of how blessed I am to have her for all that has been and all that is in front of us.

KEEP YOUR HANDS ON THE WHEEL AND MIND THE SPEED LIMIT ~ The Name is Mom

Last night as I was zipping down the street in my husband's loaner fancy, bells and whistles car, I was halted by a voice of authority.
She, who used to by my baby and is a rule follower and breaker with the best of them, was on me.
"Really Mommie, with your shoulder, I think you should be more careful. After all, this is a brand new car and not even ours. Daddy says you're supposed to have your hands and 9 and 3. I'll feel much safer too.
Can we listen to Radio Disney now?"
Yikes. When we finally got to a stop light I looked at her and began to rethink the Tuesday afternoon visits to grandma's she lives for.  I also wondered why my daughter was bossing me around. Then it occurred to me, that she sounded like a control freak of sorts. Kinda. Sorta.
Or was it concern about her mom?
I gently reminded her of my excellent driving record and mentioned I don't want her to be too concerned for me. She's free to be a happy little/big girl who can be free as a bird because her mom is really good at the mom stuff.
She laughed and relaxed her shoulders.

When we got home she donned her pjs and came into my room where I had the TV to myself (a yearly event) and was watching some grown up show. When she toodled in too say g'night she climbed in next to me for a kiss and a cuddle. Then looked at the TV and authoritatively informed me she's not supposed to watch this program. (Which I don't even need to tell you, I was never going to allow anyway!)
Oh, my.
Did I sound defensive there?
Maybe it's because it seems I'm moving to power struggle battle stations.
Time for a visit  to the bookshelf for: THE  EVERYTHING TWEEN BOOK, SHEPHERDING A CHILD'S HEART and maybe to the store for Dr. Dobson's book on raising girls.
Looks like we're coming to a crossroads.
I'll go, scratching my head. Really, already?

When they say a woman's work is never done, they are referencing moments like these.
A mom doesn't really rest too much when her kids are the subject. There's something important coming around the bend. More to be learned. More to the path.
And even with the somewhat bossy miss currently at my side, I wouldn't wish to (sleep in and then) wake up to any other occupation.
I do love the mom journey.

The Other Moms ~ Michelle ~ The Name is Mom

The mom journey for me has been lightly dusted with great girlfriends. Could we live without them? Oh no, we could not, nor would we want to.

So, let's talk about Michelle today, shall we? Michelle came with my first child. She and her darling husband were in our Lamaze class. They were expecting their numero uno and so were we. Somehow in the two classes I attended (read: bed rest) they decided my dear and I might make good friends. And she was right.

We both ended up having boys, eleven days apart. They boys consider the hospital visit to see our new baby the first real play date.

Mich and I were invited to join a mothers group when the boys were a couple of months old and the treasured friendships solidified.

Many, many years later, this gal, her husband and two boys are practically family. When my daughter celebrated her birthday a while ago, she expected to meet the G's for dinner. We did. My girlie is the only daughter in the bunch, so she's well celebrated and loves it. Michelle "passed on" beautiful 14K gold ladybug earrings. Practically family.

What's in the friendship? Well, fun frankly. And strength and courage and capacity to do things beyond anything I've ever been called to do or continue doing.

In the time we've been friends we've shared many unexpected experiences. Together we have laughed hard (at Michelle's urgings) over the ridiculous ways people complicate parenting, cried over marriage issues, lost her precious mom way, way to soon, learned to let things go, moved (us to a city 30 miles away).watched our men changing jobs, learned that her youngest had a brain tumor, walked through the what and how and surgery of it, giggled in restaurants, changed careers, played at the beach, played in parks, watched tons of movies, walked through the loss of my dad, celebrated a Bar Mitzvah, wondered how we got here and remain grateful for the grace of a friendship made of very strong fibers.

She is absolutely remarkable. When her youngest was diagnosed, I was on a business trip in Washington. She called me and I sat in the airport millions of miles away unable to do anything but listen and love. The words were incomprehensible. But Michelle knew that we'd walk through it, me praying fiercely while holding her hand and her doing what she had to do. We did just that. Her little dude is fabulous. Riding bikes, telling (bad) jokes. Seeking the start of his acting career. He celebrated his sixth surgiversary and stares doctors in the face, like obstacles in his path.

His mom has shown him how to size a situation up for what it is. To laugh at the impracticalities and complexities and to keep moving.

She's good at it. The night I had surgery for my broken shoulder, Michelle was there with my husband. She was the friend with her hand on my forehead when I came out of surgery. Gently stroking my, oh so very out of it, head.

Really, could we live without the mom's in our lives? Not this one. She's grace and humor and dignity and joy. Oh Happy Mom's Day to the friend who is Michelle.

I enjoy being a girl ~ The Name is Mom

A couple of weeks ago my girlie and I had a some time to visit a wonderful craft fair.
We spent the morning looking at beautiful paper crafts, hand thrown ceramics, beautiful baby outfits, chai tea powder, hand painted jewelry, crochet baby headbands, purses, blankets and even cute, cute aprons. We bought a couple of gifts for our new baby cousin. And the two of us went "halfsies" on a beautifully painted necklace of a monkey playing a violin (something like this).  We left around lunchtime, happy with our purchases and glad to have seen some friends we enjoy in the process.

As we drove home, we passed a little storefront I'd never seen before, but my doll was aware of - Elise's Tea Room. Apparently, she almost had tea there with a former favorite babysitter. So we stopped. It is amazing what a Tea Room can do to a 'tween. In braces, jeans and a sweatshirt, my girl was transformed into a little lady. Off came the sweatshirt and she asked to wear my scarf which she threw over her shoulder. We poured from our tea pots, ate lovely sandwiches, shared a salad and talked about tea in England. We noticed just how lovely it is to be lovely. We noticed the dress of those around us, the flavor of the blueberry in her tea and the currant in mine. We watched as the shop owner stopped at every table.
We're planning to go back. Perhaps with a couple of friends. Or maybe we'll just go back and enjoy being who we are. We've decided that we should make a point of stopping at home, sometime in the afternoon to have a cup of tea.
I know what I loved the most. Being the mom of a sweet girl who leaned into the loveliness in the air of a tea room.

Guest Blogger, New Blogger, Meghan ~ The Name is Mom

There's a new blogging gal on the block and this musing on motherhood is her inaugural post.
I hope you'll stop by and visit Meghan at The Brain Frame:

~.~.~

My little Ella is 9 months old. She's lived as long outside as she did inside. I've heard a comedic statistic: "90% of the population was unplanned." Ella is one of those 90%. My husband and I were in the crucible of life: differentiating ourselves from each other, moving through personal past pains and how they were affecting our married life. We had divorce pounding at all doors around us: my husband's brother as well as his mother were in the midst of divorce proceedings. The terror and guilt (yes, guilt) I felt at discovering I was pregnant still leaves me jealous of those moms from whom I hear jubilant and tear-filled excitement over their announcements. I look forward to the day when I am that expectant mother.

A close friend jokingly suggested that we name our daughter-to-be Phoenix, a beauty rising out of the ashes of life around us. We decided (not only do we live in Arizona, and felt that it would have just been too cliche) that it was a bit too 'out there' for our little one. While we chose a more traditional name, I still see the image of the mythical Phoenix as a picture of her. She is strong, independent, fiery, full of life and of a spirit that absolutely amazes me. As she moves into life--which is destined to be full of her own pains and struggles--she will come to a place where she will build her own pyre, step into it, and emerge reborn, stronger, more beautiful, and more determined than she ever imagined she was capable of being. She is my hero.

Although the anticipation was full of fear, stepping into the roll of mother was just perfect. Having Ella has changed me in so many ways--ways that I didn't even know I needed to change, needed to discover, or had the capacity to do. For many years I have hung onto Psalm 27:13 as a life promise: "I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living." Years ago I found this and wondered what it actually might look like for me. And with Ella, every moment of my days is that promise, fulfilled to the fullest extent that I couldn't have even imagined. She is the goodness of the Lord in this land of the living, and at times I can't even bear the joy that fills my heart. She is the beauty grown from the ashes of my life.

My Phoenix, my Goodness, My Ella.

You not gonna tell me what a do! ~ The Name is Mom

I have volumes to share about Mother Daughter Camp with my girl this weekend, and will, but I have to stop here first. When my eldest was three, and this is dipping back into history about ten years, dynamics in my mommie life had changed. Baby sister was here and I had gone from smooth as silk, easy breezy, mom to harried, HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO SERVE TWO? Mom, without even a breath. I was the definition of overwhelmed and decided I probably never was a very good mom. Just as I began to let the idea that perhaps this was just a phase and that I'd grow into this new job, my son changed too.
He went from, smooth as silk, easy breezy, two to YIKES MY WORLD HAS CHANGED AND SO HAVE I, three.
Hopelessly, I was removing him from the kitchen swing previously referred to as the refrigerator door and scolding him out of the kitchen and through the living room and down the long hallway to the bedroom when he turned on his heals and stopped and stood squarely at me saying, "You not gonna tell me what a do!"
Oh my, that was The End.
 
No more perfection.
Not in me and not in him.
(Poor Sissy-doll never had a chance.)
Today, as I think about it, I remember someone in my head loudly screaming something while I laughed at the absurdity of the transaction.
Perfect.
I took a long, deep breath.
The I'VE GOT THIS PARENTING THING DOWN mom left our house in the instant and the WELL, WHAT AM I GOING TO DO WITH THIS mom arrived.
I like the illusion of that perfect mom. She was cute and sweet and fairly easy going.
Or was she me, enjoying the ride and never really getting it all that right?
I think the latter.
And I believe that the real answer in all of this is I'm best at being a Wisdom-for-the-moment Mom. That's the mom I chose to be, The Wisdom-for-the-moment mom.
The title is the job description, and it suits me well.
Thankfully.

A rubber band or two and God ~ The Name is Mom

I'm not saying whom, but someone in my house (besides me) can spit out snappy responses with a bite. (OK, more than one someone.) I've found myself concerned, confounded, curious about the how of the necessary change. Admonishment, punishment, etc.? Not so effective when the moment strikes and the response is spat. So there we are, my Missy and I on Sunday at church and our pastor takes the stage (in my younger days it was a pulpit - now it's a stage) and begins to talk about blessing with our mouths.

Two seconds into it, I was giddy. Exuberant even. There he was, my friend, my brother, my pastor talking directly to me...I mean, my girlie and I, us, her, us! Bless. Choose to bless. Bless with your tongue. Oh the talk is much longer about how he got there and the James and Corinthians scriptures that underscore the dangers of the tongue, but all that mattered was the shift.

As a mom I know the distraction away from "don't" to "do" is powerful. And there we were. Soaking it in. Bless.
Bless.
Bless.

Then he handed out these lovely bracelets (rubber bands) to remind ourselves every time we revert to misusing our mouths. We're in. Both of us. Even as we snap away, the awareness has shifted. Oh, I love my new point of view and I love watching daughter, my friend snappin!

Once in a while God does the parenting.

Someone else's son & Cheesy Potatoes ~ The Name is Mom

Somewhere in this mass of football men is my sweet friend Rene's middle boy. His name is Tanner and he"s a fabulous kid. Smart, sweet, athletic, musical and rather random in his choice of conversational subject matter. I adore him. My kiddos look up to him. And he has two brothers, equally cool in their own styles.
This weekend Tanner really tickled me. His mom is going through a rather rough patch and it includes tending to her dad as he faces a terminal illness. Rene's a giving gal and her dad is with her at their home. Sunday she was MIA at church and just after the music started, T, as we love to call him, came and sat with us. I asked where his mom was and he let me know she was taking care of Grandpa. Somewhere in the middle of the service, I put my arm around him, rubbed his back and  asked him which night this week would be good to fix dinner for his family. (This would include his taller, younger, angel brother Kabee.) We negotiated the date and just before we headed out for the morning I began to suggest what I'd make. He cut me off swiftly and asked for Cheesy Potatoes and asparagus. I said sure and off we went. Cheesy Potatoes?  I immediately texted Rene in a slight panic. What are these potatoes and can I have the recipe? It turns out, they're a favorite from our other friend, Lori's mom. Note well all the mom connections.  These are the comfort food of comfort foods shared between families who love each other well. (I'll post the recipe below.)
Tanner went home and let his mom know I'd bring dinner over on Wednesday and that I was making Cheesy Potatoes. A very happy guy indeed. He needed a favorite food and found a mom who'd take care of it.
I'm thrilled to have the recipe - the favorite of big boys I love and I"m quite sure that when I make it for my kiddos, they'll become an adopted family tradition.
Yet another reason to love being a mom: I'm surrounded by other women whose name is Mom. 'Moms with wonderful kids, wonderful traditions and wonderful love.

Arrows ~ The Name is Mom

You are the bows from which YOUR CHILDREN as living arrows are sent forth. -- Kahlil Gibran

There is such responsibility in being that bow, being a mom. I came home yesterday, drained by my day and, would that I were childless, I'd have donned my jammies early and taken to bed with a glass of water and a book. Rather, I was greeted by my darlings and their dad, all of whom saw the pallor in my skin, who took me on as their case, to love. My youngest suggested dad grab burgers for the three of them for dinner so I wouldn't have to cook. Then they cautiously attended to me with little touches, an ice pack and stories of the day.

My bow felt a little crocked last night, but the arrows seem to be fairly true. I like it.

Quotable Sunday & The Name is Mom ~ starts tomorrow

MOTHER TO SON

 - Langston Hughes, 1922

Well, son, I’ll tell you:
Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.
It’s had tacks in it,
And splinters,
And boards torn up,
And places with no carpet on the floor—
Bare.
But all the time
I’se been a-climbin’ on,
And reachin’ landin’s,
And turnin’ corners,
And sometimes goin’ in the dark
Where there ain’t been no light.
So boy, don’t you turn back.
Don’t you set down on the steps
’Cause you finds it’s kinder hard.
Don’t you fall now—
For I’se still goin’, honey,
I’se still climbin’,
And life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.

~.~.~

I have to say I love Langston Hughes work. My friend Rachael used to quote his poetry to me when she was 11 or 12. Now she's post college and off living in Spain. Someday I'll have to tell ya'll about her. We met when she was 6 and I couldn't be clearer that she was quite a nudge to my heart to get workin' on them babies and being "Mom."

~.~.~

Leading up to Mother's Day and into May you're invited to join in:
The Name is Mom.
We'll just celebrate everything the word means.
How we are, what we do, how we learn, who inspires, what we think of...Mom.
To join in, send an email my way and I'll send a button, add your name and off we go.