Picking Daylillies

Things have changed a bit.

I am sure if you happen to have been reading for awhile, you have noticed that.

I blog less. Scratch that, I blog when I want to. I took my ads down (more on that later). My days are fuller. I am on Twitter less.

And the long and the short of it is that I am busier. And I just am. Here. Now. In the moment.

I am fuller.

I had a great email exchange with a dear friend the other day. I had noticed that she, too, had been blogging less and wrote to her to make sure she was okay.

The long and the short of her answer was that for a variety of reasons not at all related to blogging, she had found herself taking a break.

And that while she did, she realized just how much she had missed actually living. I got it immediately. I love this place. This community. This voice.

But it's amazing how quickly it became an obligation. A "I have to go write a post." A thing. An obsession. Okay, that is too strong a word. But an obligation, yes.

For me, a change in career forced me to step back. To slow down. To focus on what needed to be focused on.

It all kind of hit me this weekend. As I snapped pictures of the kids running through the sprinkler, Caleb pointed to a flower.

Mom! You should take a picture of that flower. Look how the water is just sitting on it. Like it's waiting for something to happen.

And he was so very right.

Sometimes, I think in the land of social media, we find ourselves looking for that moment. That time to observe. That irony. That humor. That event. I shouldn't say "we," because some might beg to differ.

But I know I did.

Sometimes it was great. Sometimes looking for the moments in life allowed me to see moments I might have otherwise missed. And sometimes it was just the opposite. Sometimes I was so busy looking for the proverbial trees that I was missing the forest.

So, this summer I am enjoying the forest and the trees.

Along the way, I have begun picking daylillies.

I come home from work an pick one. The fullest, richest, prettiest one.

I know it will wilt by the next morning.

And that's just fine.

Because there will be another one there to fill its place.

Some are better than the others. Some just sit there and are gone the next day. And some do nothing for me at all.

Kind of like life. But I am going to take each one as it is, as it comes. And sometimes, I won't. Sometimes I'll miss one. That's okay, too. Because that is what it was meant to be. Nothing more, nothing less.

Kids are like the weather

I talked to an old college friend last night. She was lamenting the attitude of her three-year-old and asked me, "Molly, please tell me that three gets better?"

And my response was what I often say.  Kids are just like the weather.

Just when you think you know what's coming. They change it up.

Just when you think you can't stand another minute of it, it changes. Conversely, just when you think you have it made, when life can't get any better, it turns on a dime and falls apart.

Like much of the country, we've been in the midst of an incredible heat wave over the past couple of weeks. Minneapolis (so I heard) actually had the highest heat index of anywhere in the world at some given moment last week.

It's hot. And complaint worthy.

And then suddenly, it wasn't. It was warm and lovely and pleasant.

Again, kind of like raising kids.

Because right before these classic, Americana, lovely, blissful pictures were taken?

Pretty much have to admit that...

All of these kids were sitting in time out. And then were told to put their swimsuits on, get outside and blow off some steam.

Now if I could just figure out something like this for the winter.

Boy Versus Meatball

Wouldn't it be great?

I mean really. If you came home and someone said to you, "How was your day?" And you said, "Good!"

And they said, "Really, because it doesn't look like it. It looks like you cleaned the floors with your clothes. What happened to your shirt?"

And you said, "Well I got into a fight with some meatballs and gravy and the meatballs won." Of course, everyone would take it at face value. Because you're cute. And, on any given day, who doesn't find themselves fighting with some meatballs and gravy?

Seize the Day

I am all for finding balance in raising kids. The kids don't watch a lot of television. The don't eat a lot of junk. Their clothes generally match (although Noah has been known to enjoy dressing himself as something closely resembling the UPS man).

But I try to avoid being overly regimented at the same time. I wasn't a perfect kid. I ate the occasional obnoxiously sugary treat. Played in the occasional questionable puddle. Enjoyed the occasional delightful fast food meal.

Moderation. Moderation.

And yes, I enjoyed the occasional soda. Or pop. You know. Whether you are a northerner or southerner. Easterner or westerner. Bubbly junky drink. All the same.

Just like my kids. Right now, they have been told they can have one soda a month (so there you go, either I am the worst mom ever or, well the worst mom ever, whichever side you land on...I have learned there isn't a middle ground in the world of soda pop).

Regardless, they can have one a month.

Last week was that one for Noah.







Every. Last. Drop.

Debate aside. If you asked him? Best Mom Ever.

Even if I did make him brush his teeth twice.

The tent, the Minnesota state government shutdown and the dress

It all started with a tent.

A handful of years ago there was this tent. And it was 75 percent off.

Never mind the fact that I am about as girly a girl as they come. Heels and makeup and dresses and all. And that I had never before been in a tent. In my life.

But I also can't resist a good deal. And that includes a six-person tent that is 75 percent off.

I also recognized that, as a MOB (Mom of Boys) I needed to find a way to embrace what they embrace. And that started in the aisle of the store when I bought the six-person sleeping tent. Well, I bought it at the check out lane, but all the same.

Since then, it has been collecting dust in the garage. But then I had one of those strange, divine intervention moments. Okay, that might be a bit strong, but still. Two things happened.

First, I got an email from PBS Kids and second, the Minnesota state government shut down. (And for the record, I am quite sure those two things were completely unrelated).

But back to PBS, they were encouraging people to take a peek at their new episode of "Sid the Science Kid" and to give a thought to getting out and camping as a family. Even in your own back yard. The story is about Sid and his did taking some time to get out and enjoy the outdoors and camping, even if it is in the comforts of their own backyard.

So we (and by "we" I mean Brian) busted the dusty tent out of its package and decided...state shutdown=camping grounds are closed... whatever...we'll camp here at home.

The kids dove right in to helping.

And yes, by helping, I do mean attacking each other with light sabers.

And I? Well, I took pictures.

(Can you tell Brian was issuing a final warning here?)

Eventually, we got the tent up (and yes, it ended up better looking than this. But it got dark and I stopped taking pictures.)

We made Smore Pops (inspired by Sid), watched movies, and hung out together. As simply as we could.
Mere Spending time together, just a few feet away from modern plumbing. And air conditioning.

Sure, some of us wore boxer shorts. And some of us wore a dress.

Oh yes I did. 

But the point was we did it. On the micro-level, we dug the dusty tent out and were a family that did stuff. We broke out of our mold.

And on the macro-side of the things, as one of my friends commented on Facebook, "When the state shutdown gives you closed parks, you camp in the backyard."

So Sid (and PBS) thank you for the nudge. Thanks for reminding us that while we might not all view camping the same way...that's okay. Eat smores without a fire. Wear a dress camping. Camp in your back yard. Or camp out until midnight and then come inside with your cuddly three-year-old.

It's all good. Life is about compromise. Meeting in the middle. Finding a way to make it work for all of the parties involved.

Now if there was only a way that our state government could figure out the same thing.

P.S. If you want to catch the episode of Sid, The Science Kid with your kids, it re-airs on PBS on July 12, July 27 and August 19. A full schedule is also available. While PBS provided DVDs, promotional items and a pocket projector, the tent, and yes, the dress, were all mine. And speaking of promotional items, check back later this week when I'll have some to give away to one of you.

P.P.S. And yes, I clearly get that the issues facing our state are far more complex that putting up a tent in the backyard.

The Gift

There are people out there who take a tremendous amount of pride in how they present, well presents. The perfect packaging. The ideal thematic wrapping paper. The amazing bow. The hilarious or sweet or touching card. The brand new tissue paper.

I am not one of those people.

At all.

At this point, those who know me know not to expect cards. It's one of those areas that I am thrifty. And I don't have the patience for standing in the aisle flipping through them. So no, no cards.

I usually use gift bags. And I might have been known to reuse a baby shower gift bag or red or green Christmas bag as a birthday present bag. And I never have tight, crisp corners on presents.

My family also knows that I recycle tissue paper. As in reuse recycle. Not ripped? I'll fold it back up and use it again.

Good god, I sound like such an old woman. Alright, moving on.

You have the picture?

Caleb had a birthday party last week on Wednesday right after work. I ran to the store in between afternoon meetings (have I mentioned that I'm not such a good planner, either?) to find the perfect birthday present for a nine-year-old boy. That, by the way, is hard to do. They have outgrown most toys. You don't know where their sports team allegiances fall. And almost everything shoots. I picked up the most-peaceful-not-really-a-shooter-Nerf item I could find. But of course it was huge.

So then I ran to the wrapping paper aisle and picked up a roll, planning to wrap it at my desk during a conference call. (Planner I am not, master-multi-tasker I am.)

However, aforementioned conference call got cancelled and I was booked solid the rest of the day, finding myself at the end of the day, already running 15 minutes late to get the kids.

I tore off a giant piece of paper. Threw it around the toy. Slapped. No, not kidding, slapped three pieces of tape on it and ran out of the building.

Along the way, I ran into one of my coworkers, who saw the gift and burst out laughing.

"This is one of those working mom days, isn't it?"

I mean really, I haven't the slightest idea what she meant.

Okay, maybe I do.

Afterall, I did apologize to the boy's mom about the state of the gift.

I do have some standards.

After the party, Caleb said to me, "Mom, he really liked the gift and he didn't even notice the wrapping paper."

I think I will adopt this boy.

Don't look to me for photography tips

It's rare.

And it makes you wonder what our parents did without digital cameras.

But regardless. It's rare. And it takes a lot of work.

And perhaps even some momma-puppy-like grooming.

You might have to sacrifice a few grapes. You know, to prove that they float.

Or not.

But if you are careful. And if you are particularly thankful for all that is digital. And if you precariously prop your camera up in a way that no one should...You might...every once in...oh, two years or so...you might get a good family photo.

They used to do surgery with ether, too.

I remember several years ago when one of my coworkers learned that we encouraged no made no let the kids watch DVDs on car trips.

This particular person was shocked. "But the car trips are the best family time. We love the games! The talking! The singing!"

How could you dumb down a family car trip with a DVD player?!

And at that time I remember feeling quite proud of my snarky, admittedly guilt-filled comeback...


Yeah, well they used to do surgery with ether, too. It doesn't mean that was the only way to do it.

I love my kids. But I don't love five, or six, or seven hours in the car with them. I am quite sure the feeling is mutual. But I can't watch DVDs while I am driving.

So when we were driving up to Lutsen this past weekend it was a near catastrophe when we realized that one of our DVD players had died a sudden and horrific death.

After approximately 2.3 miles of Eli repeating, "I want Kung Fu Panda, I want Kung Fu Panda. Kung Fu Panda, Daddy please," I'm not going to lie. We were desperate. Crazy parent desperate.

So we did what any crazy, irrational, highly-tech-savvy parent would do and pulled of the app for the retailer where I happen to work (yes, folks, go for it, put two and two together ;) to find the nearest location.

Within 20 miles I had left the four of them in the car and was running into said retailer to drop $150 faster than I ever have in my life.

But also one of the best $150 I spent (in 90 seconds or less). Because in 90 seconds or less, this was the view in my back seat.

So do surgery with ether embrace family car trips if you like. Or not. Either way, the end result is what matters.