1. I missed yesterday’s daily posting. Rats.

2. My article on De-cluttering the home is up over at the Catholic Digest website. Wanna Clear Out Clutter? Go read!

3. My beloved, my RHL, got me some amazing sunglasses for Mother’s Day. I love them! The only problem is they are slightly too big. Ever so slightly. I took them to the eyeglass place in the mall and they adjusted the ear pieces but I still want them to feel a tad more snug. Any suggestions? I might try warming up the nose piece with my hairdryer? Maybe that will do the trick.

4. But still, Loving them! Isa loves hers as well.

5. This week has included but not limited to the following: Fifth Grade play (super cute and fun!); getting ready for Spring Dance tomorrow night (including pants shopping, twice); all the details that go along with planning the pre-dance dinner, etc (kinda tiring); swim lessons (hooray, Henry! Ready for swim team!); driver’s license (hooray!); Augie’s “crossing over” ceremony from being a Webelo to being a bona fide Boy Scout (oh my, the emotions!); etc. etc. etc.

6. Someone mentioned in a previous post that blogging might be a young mom’s game. It’s possible, and I think about it a great deal after posts that include No. 5 above. Once you get to this stage of the game, your thoughts on the day tend to focus on the million places you’ve gone and done and all there is left to do. Oh it’s such a wonderful season! Just so different from life ten years ago.

7. Parting thought shot: Paul and I went to a wedding Saturday night that was so much fun. Both the wedding and the reception were downtown and in between the two, we decided to grab a drink. It was one of those perfect 45 minutes — we were all gussied up and we popped in to our favorite watering hole. The music was perfect, the Stella was divine. I never get dressed up like that just for date night (I’m usually so thrilled just to have extricated myself that I don’t worry too much about heels and dress). But this was fun and I was on a happy cloud for days after. It’s the little things, isn’t it?

Thanks Jen! 

Thought A: My brother just texted to say: he and his wife (my beautiful, amazing sister-in-law) just had a baby girl! That pretty much trumps every other thought swirling in my brain. I’m so excited! Oh, nieces and nephews are the best. God is so good!

Thought B: I texted that bit of news to…my son. Who took two of his brothers to get half-price shakes at Sonic. There’s a limit to how many kin are allowed in the vehicle, which is fine because Elliott wouldn’t go. I can’t tell if he was too nervous or if he wants Ethan to prove himself first or if he was still so AMPED about dunking on our driveway basketball hoop. Um, yes, dunking. Seriously. Too many milestones in one day.

Thought C: Now I’m waiting for my phone to download the pic of my new NIECE. Technology is so awesome, y’all.

Thought D: Last night I was chatting with a few friends and my friend Suse told me about a perfect conversation she had with our friend Co.

“Isn’t the point of all this,” asked my dear, frazzled Suse, “to get these children into heaven?”

To which Co responded, “In May, all we focus on is getting through May.”

Granted, both these girls have daughters about to graduate from high school — next week. May, the last month of school, is notorious for being a butt kicker. I’m sad to report that I’m not allowed too much complaining this year because several of my BFF’s have children graduating, which makes regular end-of-school living look like a cake walk. Seriously.

Thought E: I won’t lie. I’m glad I don’t have a Senior.

Thought F: For Final thought…I’ve managed to only text Ethan four times while he was out. Victory.

Do you remember the day you got your driver’s license? I do. It’s still so clear to me. I got my license in a borrowed car. At the time, my dad was the headmaster of the school we all attended (and that my kids now attend) and our family car was one of the school’s 15-passenger vans. I didn’t want to take the exam in that (parallel parking would be a drag), so I borrowed a car from a neighbor — the parents of a boy in the grade above me. That boy, John Forde (all my life-long friends will know him!), came with me to the exam!! (yes, I just used double exclamation points, totally valid use I might add). And he stood outside the gate with my dad watching me as I took the test. Ahh, memories.

I got home from getting my license and promptly borrowed the car of another neighbor, the one next door. Obviously, I had the best, most generous neighbors. My friend Suse (see above) rode with me and we went to get our paychecks from Eckerds, where she worked in the pharmacy and I was a Front-end Associate. I almost killed us when the clutch died as we were waiting to turn left at a light and oh how we screamed. It was all so hilarious in my memory, until today, when I now have a son out driving in our van with two of his brothers.

Thought Really This is The Last Thought: the patron saint of Iron Clad Vehicles and Mad Driving Skillz would be…

My brother Gabe defended his dissertation last Friday and is now officially a PhD! Hooray!

I was asking him this weekend how he felt, getting to this point he’s been working toward for lo these many years. He said it wasn’t nearly the cathartic release he was expecting. Four years, at least, of moving in this direction — writing, studying, researching, commuting, being away from family, more research, working his job as a college professor — all of these things, all of this work, coming together in one grand moment of defense in front of your committee and you feel….hmmmm.

I totally get it.

I haven’t defended a dissertation mind you (so I try really hard not to say “I KNOW what you mean!!!!”). But I kind of do. When he was explaining his feelings of hmmmm.… I stood there nodding my head. I get it. I do.

There are times in life when you are moving toward something, when hours and hours of your time and energy and emotional everything are focused on a point in time somewhere in the future. And then you arrive at that moment and, well, your system can’t quite handle it. Your brain doesn’t believe your heart — you’ve done it! You really have! — and there is a bit more of a slow release than the INSTA-BOOM!!! you were expecting.

When I wrote the last few pages of my book, I shed a few tears, only because I was feeling dramatic. Deep down, it felt like a check to mark off the list. On to the next thing (granted I had recently found out I was pregnant, in the book writing process, so new baby kind of trumped book). I felt the same way after I defended my thesis (way lower on the scale than dissertation but a similar processes). I walked out of the room after my defense and didn’t do the happy dance I was expecting. It was actually about 45 minutes into the ride home (I commuted to grad school when I was working on my thesis) that it slowly hit me, just a little.

Life is funny that way.

Today I took Ethan to take his drivers test and it wasn’t until he was walking back from the car with the instructor that I was like “ohmygosh my son has a license.” The thing that’s keeping me from full-on freak-out mode is that he doesn’t technically have the license in his hot little hand; we have to go tomorrow to get the actual card.

But here it is, this huge event, this Rite of Passage and there you go. Marked off the list.

First steps. Check.

Potty trained. Check.

Tying shoes. Check.

Drivers license. Check.

It just goes too fast, y’all. It doesn’t feel that way; it sort of sneaks up on you.

You watch and wait and think, on those days when you open the front door and a wall of bricks stares back at you — you begin to think that you will always be trapped in this home with these small children. Trapped in a good way? I guess…

And just like that, this point on the horizon — big kids! Independent children! — you watch and wait and think you will never be one of those women out with children who don’t require a leash and a constant threat.

And just like that, there you go. Yesterday is gone. Tomorrow has arrived. And there you are, just watching the adventure unfold before you.

God bless Isabel. She gets toted so many places that (I’m guessing) your average three-year-old doesn’t go. Well baby check-up for your 16-year-old brother. Swim lessons for your five-year-old brother. Your mama subs in the kindergarten for an hour and you get to go! You family heads out for a Mother’s Day hike and there you are as well.

So when Monday rolls around, Isa is usually ready for a nice long nap. Isn’t it wonderful?

Yes it is.

Happy Mother’s Day! How is your day going? Was it perfect? Did it live up to the high ideals that you set before dawn?

My friend Kajse called me this morning and we were laughing at all the crazy that seems to transpire on Mother’s Day. Because when you have a day that is all about Mother — the person who, let’s face it, has learned to put herself last because that how things work — well you just might be setting yourself up for disappointment. Not in a martyr kind of way (though that certain surfaces from time to time) but just, mothers are the ones who step back and assess the situation and see what needs to happen. Thus, when we’re giving out instructions and directing traffic, we are usually putting others in front of us to get them where they need to go. We are not in the habit of going first, and no one else is necessarily in that habit either. God bless husbands, this day is so much work for them, reminding the kids over and over again: It’s Mother’s Day! It’s about MOM!

Even on MOTHER’S DAY, there will be squabbles. Even on Mother’s Day someone will prefer not to go on that hike (the one that ends up being so much fun for everyone, see I told you so!). Even on Mother’s Day, daddy might have to pin someone down to show him who is boss.

Not really. Yes really. But in a lighthearted, fun, still getting the point across kind of way.

Today has been a good day because I am learning to recognize that. I had a few moments of hormone-induced crazy (yay 40! You’re so much fun not always!) but in the midst of that I still had such a healthy grip on the reality of life: life is not perfect. No matter what someone’s Instagram feed might be preaching, life is not perfect.

But it is certainly beautiful.

1. Yesterday on the way to bringing Isa to preschool, I was waiting at an intersection when a sedan pulled up next to me. The driver rolled his window ever so slightly and tossed out a bag of fast food trash. Just like that. I was so mad, I couldn’t help my reaction. As the car drove off I hollered after it.

“NICE!!!” I yelled at the top of my lungs, “REAL NIIIICCCEEEE.”

I was telling Paul all about it a little while later and he was incredulous.

“You should have layed on the horn,” he said, “and then followed them, right on their tail so…you could get shot…”

Right. The last part sort of occurred to him as he was speaking, as it had occurred to me in the midst of my yelling. I wanted so badly to chase down this arrogant [insert beeping sound here], but wanted even more to not get shot.

As my friend Mollie pointed out (after I texted her because I HAD to share this with someone immediately), it’s such a disconnect that someone would want his car clean at the sake of the world around him. You like things clean, just not, like, your city or whatever.

2. For as much as I make fun of myself with my “thorough” efforts before we have guests, I learned an important lesson the other night: OCD is a worthwhile effort.

We had dinner guests and for reasons that are still unclear, one of the boys decided after dinner to go into our main bathroom for a 30-minute post-meal poo. With the ipad. (Because the upstairs bathroom, the one that’s not right off the kitchen area? That would be too lonely?).

So our guest, after standing in the kitchen for about fifteen minutes making small talk (waiting for the door to open) finally asked if there was another restroom he could use? I directed him to our bathroom, the one I almost didn’t wipe down because I didn’t want to be so over-the-top. I’m trying to learn to calm my bad self down.

But see, maybe I shouldn’t. Because I was able to lead him to this particular restroom without too much embarrassment. Hooray!

3. To offset that small victory, once our boy finally emerged from the restroom, the children of our guests needed to use the restroom. Three sweet little girls and I was trying to discretely direct my son to grab some matches.

“You were in there for half-an-hour, better get two or three.”

The whole thing turned out to be a non-issue because the boy finally admitted he wasn’t really “using” the bathroom for anything more than a quiet place to hide out and have the ipad for a few minutes without having to share.

4. Life in a big family can be really complicated. You have to be provident and resourceful.

5. I buy special drinks for the boys lunches (in lieu of desserts) and I recently noticed we were getting low. So did Augie. This morning, despite there being no drinks left, he procured one from the drink cabinet.

“Yesterday, I hid this one in those sheets in there,” he said, referring to my tablecloth collection in the same cabinet. “So I’m good.”

He was quite pleased with himself. As well he should be.

6. We’re off to swimming lessons so that’s all for now folks.

7. Hi, Jen! Hope ya’ll survived the Great Dorito Famine of 2013.

Every Day in May. Captains Log, Day Nine

Today I promise to be less thinky. I was going to say less introspective, but maybe that’s too much. I sure didn’t mean to sound like I was having another “I’m outta here, it’s been real” moment. I wasn’t on a blogging ledge, more like just wanting to think about things.

Having said that, thanks for your kinds words. Very sweet and encouraging. It’s nice to know I am loved! Let’s hope yesterdays ramblings were just my monthly urge to ponder and muse and can we get back to stories of life in a household of boys and/or whatever else strikes my fancy?

Let’s see!

Today on Instagram I noticed that someone I follow (but do not know in real life and actually am not even sure how I started following them!) is celebrating her 40th birthday by doing random acts of kindness for other people. How wonderful! I read about someone else doing this not too long ago and I was so inspired. What a way to spend the day!

I was also reflecting on my day today. It was a really good day, beautiful weather, fun times with my children but also good quality time alone. I have made peace with this reality: I need time to myself, it feeds my ability to be a good wife and mother. Today is my day where I get a full 9 a.m.-2:30 p.m. for work, errands, housework and household management. It’s so wonderful!

Anyway, mixed in with that I had a very nice quick visit with a friend who texted me later and thanked me for “being there” for her. Something so simple like standing in a doorway of a friend’s house and listening and hugging and trying to offer words of encouragement. I love when we’re able to be the hands and feet of Jesus in such a simple way.

I ended the afternoon by loading up Henry and Isabel in the wagon to return a few loads of laundry I had washed for a friend. Now I’m not tooting my own horn here, but it’s such a beautiful small thing that I wanted to share.

A friend of mine was going out of town for the week and her washing machine has been broken. She was leaving for her trip late evening and that afternoon there was a fierce thunderstorm followed by amazing mud puddles that her children discovered and enjoyed immensely. So there she was, going out of town for a week with a laundry basket filled with wet, muddy clothes.

She called me a few hours before she was leaving and asked if I’d wash the clothes while she was gone. No rush, don’t even worry about folding them, she said. She just didn’t want to come home to a house full of dank, week old laundry.

I was so happy to help. And strangely, honored. It’s so hard to ask people for help isn’t it? It takes something — desperation of course — but something else too. Even with my dearest friends I am so reluctant to ask for help. What if it’s an imposition? What if they think I’m neeeeedy?

But here I am on the giving side and I thought none of those things. I was just so honored to be in a position to take a load (or two!) off of my friends oh-so-long To Do list. You better believe I folded those clothes and I almost took a pic to put on Instagram but I didn’t want to draw attention.

[Now I'm going to resist the urge to delete this whole thing. I'm going to leave it here because my new mantra (I've decided, thanks to yesterdays deep, deep examination of my belly button) is that I'm going to trust my gut and be a quieter critic. I am a TERRIBLE critic of myself and I talk myself out of so much. I think it's good to use the brain God gave you, but not so much that fear dictates where we go, instead of trust in the Holy Spirit.]

Found this at Ann’s Instagram.

The moral of my story: don’t be afraid to ask for help! It really blesses the person you’re asking! Oh I know we can’t always say yes. Because as I’m writing this whole grand story something comes to mind how I was recently asked to do something else and I said yes and then, a few days later, I realized that I couldn’t really do what I’d committed to do. I had to tell the person I would do it, but couldn’t in the time frame requested.

So live and learn! And life is messy. But it’s also quite beautiful too!

I always love getting feedback from readers, and I especially love hearing from people who read my column in The Southern Cross. A few years ago I got a handwritten note from a woman who now had grandchildren of her own and told me my stories reminded her of her years as a young mom.

Yesterday I got this email and it made me smile. So simple and so sweet. An 86-year-old man likes my column? I am humbled and honored.

Miss Rachel: I am compelled to tell you how much I enjoy reading your columns in the Southern Cross. I like the way you write. Your stories have sincerity and warmth. I like the stories of your boys and family. I am a 86 year old male parent of two adopted children. Your “Growing Times” article hit a home run in bringing back memories.

My Every Day in May project has given me plenty to think about. The last few days I’ve been worn out from our busy weekend and realize that these would absolutely be days when I’d skip blogging, for sure. What’s the balance, I’ve been thinking, between setting a goal for yourself, versus producing less “inspired” work. Writing for the sake of writing versus writing because you have something to say.

And then I find myself back, once again, to pondering me and my space on the Information Superhighway. I fall into that trap of considering where I fit in blogging wise, when I need to remember — we all need to remember — that the best we have to offer is just us, being us. Maybe it sounds hokey, but that’s the truth.

Having said that, for me personally and my space right here, I do think about what I write about, the things I’m willing to share. When I started this blog, I had four little boys. Little boys who were wild and crazy and I turned to writing to keep me sane.

These days I have teenagers — I’m about to have three of them! Three teenage sons? That’s a big deal. There are so many fun and interesting things going on around here, but sharing all that with my keyboard isn’t always the best idea. My kids are big now, most of them, and sharing our private life is a breach. So, over time, you watch your kids grow and you slowly begin to ponder these things in your heart, instead of dishing it all to the free world.

Is that less authentic? Not really, but it certainly can change the tone of a place. Where the stories once flowed freely, now it’s not quite fair. And on top of all that, there are real issues we are dealing with that, while wonderful blog fodder, are just not the stuff you write about. Slowly, you watch your desire to be transparent sort of drift away. Every single thing going on in my home is no longer fair game. Not that any of it’s horrible or sad; it’s just real life, with real people (not little baby people). Big difference.

So many of the blogs I read way back when, years ago as I was starting my own blog, those blogs are now so different than they used to be. People change. Kids grow up. Maybe you get burned a few times and you learn the hard way that anything you write about might possibly get you a random comment, maybe nice maybe mean. But you start to feel a little skittish, trying to decide just what it is you want to say.

And so it is with me, as I considered today what I would write. I realized I had this little goal I had set for myself — writing every day this month — and that meant that I had to come up with a topic. I mentally flipped through all the thoughts I had swirling in my mind and realized oh-so-many of them are nothing I wanted to publicly share. Maybe because I can’t formulate the words; maybe because I don’t want to try. How “out there” do you want to be? That’s another big question.

A few of the blogs I read are just so raw and honest, I feel almost uncomfortable. I’m all for honesty but I know there are certain lines I’m just not willing (or able) to cross. And then I have some friends who have basically stepped away from their blogs, either choosing the silence or filling the space with other opportunities.

And finally there is that strange dynamic of beginning to wonder just how much of yourself — all the stuff deep down inside — you are really willing to expose anyway? Isn’t there a natural limit to how much gaze we share? Yes, there should be.

All these thoughts, back to the tone and style of a blog, come together to leave a person (a writer) wondering what it all means. Can you start in once place and end up somewhere else? If I were to start a blog today, instead of having started back when the boys were little, I don’t even know what it would look like! But I guess it would look just like this, random thoughts, a few stories, a whole lot of everything and a whole lot of nothing.

“Honey, no,” I say to the boy settling into the couch for some before-school cartoon viewing. “What kind of mother would I be if I let you watch Spongebob while eating your breakfast?”

“An awesome one.”