Don't Carpe Diem (plagarized)

I read this article and had to post it in it's entirety. It's that good and expresses almost perfectly how I feel about being a mom.

Don't Carpe Diem
By: Glennon Melton
Originally posted on 1/14/2012 on the Huff Post

Every time I'm out with my kids -- this seems to happen:

An older woman stops us, puts her hand over her heart and says something like, "Oh, Enjoy every moment. This time goes by so fast."

Everywhere I go, someone is telling me to seize the moment, raise my awareness, be happy, enjoy every second, etc, etc, etc.

I know that this message is right and good. But, I have finally allowed myself to admit that it just doesn't work for me. It bugs me. This CARPE DIEM message makes me paranoid and panicky. Especially during this phase of my life - while I'm raising young kids. Being told, in a million different ways to CARPE DIEM makes me worry that if I'm not in a constant state of intense gratitude and ecstasy, I'm doing something wrong.

I think parenting young children (and old ones, I've heard) is a little like climbing Mount Everest. Brave, adventurous souls try it because they've heard there's magic in the climb. They try because they believe that finishing, or even attempting the climb are impressive accomplishments. They try because during the climb, if they allow themselves to pause and lift their eyes and minds from the pain and drudgery, the views are breathtaking. They try because even though it hurts and it's hard, there are moments that make it worth the hard. These moments are so intense and unique that many people who reach the top start planning, almost immediately, to climb again. Even though any climber will tell you that most of the climb is treacherous, exhausting, killer. That they literally cried most of the way up.

And so I think that if there were people stationed, say, every thirty feet along Mount Everest yelling to the climbers -- "ARE YOU ENJOYING YOURSELF!? IF NOT, YOU SHOULD BE! ONE DAY YOU'LL BE SORRY YOU DIDN'T!" TRUST US!! IT'LL BE OVER TOO SOON! CARPE DIEM!" -- those well-meaning, nostalgic cheerleaders might be physically thrown from the mountain.

Now. I'm not suggesting that the sweet old ladies who tell me to ENJOY MYSELF be thrown from a mountain. These are wonderful ladies. Monkees, probably. But last week, a woman approached me in the Target line and said the following: "Sugar, I hope you are enjoying this. I loved every single second of parenting my two girls. Every single moment. These days go by so fast."

At that particular moment, Amma had arranged one of the new bras I was buying on top of her sweater and was sucking a lollipop that she must have found on the ground. She also had three shop-lifted clip-on neon feathers stuck in her hair. She looked exactly like a contestant from Toddlers and Tiaras. I couldn't find Chase anywhere, and Tish was grabbing the pen on the credit card swiper thing WHILE the woman in front of me was trying to use it. And so I just looked at the woman, smiled and said, "Thank you. Yes. Me too. I am enjoying every single moment. Especially this one. Yes. Thank you."

That's not exactly what I wanted to say, though.

There was a famous writer who, when asked if he loved writing, replied, "No. but I love having written." What I wanted to say to this sweet woman was, "Are you sure? Are you sure you don't mean you love having parented?"

I love having written. And I love having parented. My favorite part of each day is when the kids are put to sleep (to bed) and Craig and I sink into the couch to watch some quality TV, like Celebrity Wife Swap, and congratulate each other on a job well done. Or a job done, at least.

Every time I write a post like this, I get emails suggesting that I'm being negative. I have received this particular message four or five times -- G, if you can't handle the three you have, why do you want a fourth?

That one always stings, and I don't think it's quite fair. Parenting is hard. Just like lots of important jobs are hard. Why is it that the second a mother admits that it's hard, people feel the need to suggest that maybe she's not doing it right? Or that she certainly shouldn't add more to her load. Maybe the fact that it's so hard means she IS doing it right...in her own way...and she happens to be honest.

Craig is a software salesman. It's a hard job in this economy. And he comes home each day and talks a little bit about how hard it is. And I don't ever feel the need to suggest that he's not doing it right, or that he's negative for noticing that it's hard, or that maybe he shouldn't even consider taking on more responsibility. And I doubt anybody comes by his office to make sure he's ENJOYING HIMSELF. I doubt his boss peeks in his office and says: "This career stuff...it goes by so fast...ARE YOU ENJOYING EVERY MOMENT IN THERE, CRAIG???? CARPE DIEM, CRAIG!"

My point is this. I used to worry that not only was I failing to do a good enough job at parenting, but that I wasn't enjoying it enough. Double failure. I felt guilty because I wasn't in parental ecstasy every hour of every day and I wasn't MAKING THE MOST OF EVERY MOMENT like the mamas in the parenting magazines seemed to be doing. I felt guilty because honestly, I was tired and cranky and ready for the day to be over quite often. And because I knew that one day, I'd wake up and the kids would be gone, and I'd be the old lady in the grocery store with my hand over my heart. Would I be able to say I enjoyed every moment? No.

But the fact remains that I will be that nostalgic lady. I just hope to be one with a clear memory. And here's what I hope to say to the younger mama gritting her teeth in line:

"It's helluva hard, isn't it? You're a good mom, I can tell. And I like your kids, especially that one peeing in the corner. She's my favorite. Carry on, warrior. Six hours till bedtime." And hopefully, every once in a while, I'll add -- "Let me pick up that grocery bill for ya, sister. Go put those kids in the van and pull on up -- I'll have them bring your groceries out."

Anyway. Clearly, Carpe Diem doesn't work for me. I can't even carpe fifteen minutes in a row, so a whole diem is out of the question.

Here's what does work for me:

There are two different types of time. Chronos time is what we live in. It's regular time, it's one minute at a time, it's staring down the clock till bedtime time, it's ten excruciating minutes in the Target line time, it's four screaming minutes in time out time, it's two hours till daddy gets home time. Chronos is the hard, slow passing time we parents often live in.

Then there's Kairos time. Kairos is God's time. It's time outside of time. It's metaphysical time. It's those magical moments in which time stands still. I have a few of those moments each day. And I cherish them.

Like when I actually stop what I'm doing and really look at Tish. I notice how perfectly smooth and brownish her skin is. I notice the perfect curves of her teeny elf mouth and her asianish brown eyes, and I breathe in her soft Tishy smell. In these moments, I see that her mouth is moving but I can't hear her because all I can think is -- This is the first time I've really seen Tish all day, and my God -- she is so beautiful. Kairos.

Like when I'm stuck in chronos time in the grocery line and I'm haggard and annoyed and angry at the slow check-out clerk. And then I look at my cart and I'm transported out of chronos. And suddenly I notice the piles and piles of healthy food I'll feed my children to grow their bodies and minds and I remember that most of the world's mamas would kill for this opportunity. This chance to stand in a grocery line with enough money to pay. And I just stare at my cart. At the abundance. The bounty. Thank you, God. Kairos.

Or when I curl up in my cozy bed with Theo asleep at my feet and Craig asleep by my side and I listen to them both breathing. And for a moment, I think- how did a girl like me get so lucky? To go to bed each night surrounded by this breath, this love, this peace, this warmth? Kairos.

These kairos moments leave as fast as they come- but I mark them. I say the word kairos in my head each time I leave chronos. And at the end of the day, I don't remember exactly what my kairos moments were, but I remember I had them. And that makes the pain of the daily parenting climb worth it.

If I had a couple Kairos moments during the day, I call it a success.

Carpe a couple of Kairoses a day.

Good enough for me.

SO... I'm curious to hear what the rest of you moms out there think! Carpe Diem? Or Don't Carpe Diem? Chronos or Kairos time?

Hat

If you hear Cole saying something like "Haa haa" it could mean one of two things.

It's hot. (Or cold... the kid can't figure out the difference unless he's pointing at the oven or my flat iron in which case he does know they're hot).

Or he wants a hat.
It's confusing. We're hoping his speech improves before he's 16.

Today though, "haa haa" meant hat. And if the hat you happen to find is your dad's that makes it even better.

Houston we have a problem

We have a serious problem around here.

He's best described as a defiant, toe-head with a dimply grin, and contagious laugh. He's also obsessed with shoes (like his father) and prefers to run around the house stark-naked, destroying everything in his path. Then sucking up to his mother by looking at her with those bright, blue eyes, saying "Mammma" and snuggling in for kisses.

Suck up.

Back to my point though. The problem. Sleeping is a nightmare. Cole used to be great at bedtime. We'd lay him down, tell him "night-night," and close the door. He'd fall asleep without any squeals or fuss. But that was before we moved him and Pearl into one room.

Now it's at least an hour-long process to get him to sleep. We haven't changed our bedtime routine at all and yet, Cole screams the second we put him in his crib. On a positive note, Pearl has gone from trying to avoid bed at all costs to cooperative angel now that she doesn't have to be alone. One night, after two hours of listening to him scream, "Mammmma!!!" Jeff looked over at me and I simply said, "I really don't know what to do." We've resorted to having Jeff lay on the floor next to his crib, holding his hand or foot until one or both of them fall asleep. If you try to sneak out before he's asleep, the screaming starts all over again. And that's just when you put him to sleep! He started waking up in the middle of the night and with the potential to wake up Pearl if we let him cry it out, I end up putting him in bed with us.

We had no idea the transition to a new room would be so hard for him. I'm not sure if it's because the room isn't quite as dark as his old room, having to share with his sister, new noises, the cold (our poor kids, they are in the coldest room of the house), or the fact that his new bedroom was once the off-limits playroom to destroy. After three weeks, I thought we'd be past this hurdle and back to our pleasant bedtime routine. Or maybe it's a developmental stage thing or not being tough enough as parents. What I do know is, we need help. Any suggestions on getting Cole back to his old bedtime pleasantries?

And once you figure the whole sleeping thing out for me, can you tell me how to convince my kids that the couch is NOT a trampoline?Ok, fine. I give in to their pleadings to play on the cushions. Sometimes it's not worth the battle of finding something "fun" to do. Plus, they seem to have so much fun.

UPDATE: As of a couple days ago, Cole is sleeping through the night. Apparently Jeff had a stern talking to with Fern and laid down the law. Some threats were issued, tears were shed, and bottom lips quivered. But it worked! Now both kids go to bed at the same time and everyone wakes up much happier.

I'm at it again

If you hadn't noticed yet, I'm at it again. Four years running with a daily photo blog. It's my way of keeping a journal... a way to remember all the things that someday I'll be too old to remember. Let's face, I forget them now. Life's daily happenings. The little details that seem so un-meaningful in the moment of chaos, messes, and noisy children. The little moments that make up an entire life. It's not as glorious or impressive as it sounds. I take a bazillion pictures anyway, so this gives me an excuse to do something with them, it's way easier than making a photo book at the end of the year, and it forces me to remember that there really are more ups than downs in life.

So if you need a daily dose of reality in someone else's life, take a look.

Lights at Temple Square

We went to see the lights at Temple Square last week. I'm always amazed at the beauty of a million, make that a gazillion, lights on every nook and cranny of every single tree. It really is breathtaking. And completely mind-boggling as to how they actually string all those strands onto every single branch.There is this huge pine tree on the East corner of the temple that is always covered in lights! I wish I would have been able to capture the essence of looking up into thousands and thousands of lights covering it.
Pearl took this picture. She was asking all kinds of questions, like do all the prophets work in this building? Even Joseph Smith? What do they do in the temple? Why wouldn't Jesus answer the door? I'm still not sure how to answer her last question. Maybe I should write to Pres. Monson and ask.Cole was happy with his crackers. I was afraid we might get kicked out of the Visitor's Center with cracker crumbs leading right up to the stroller. Luckily, the sister missionaries had more important things to worry about. And thank heavens Cole knew who Jesus was. Maybe our attempt at scripture study and F.H.E. is paying off. Random, but as we were listening to the little program next to the Christus statue, this little boy came over to Cole and helped himself to a cracker or two. I laughed!I brought along my tripod to try and get some good shots of the lights, but with two bored and starving children and a husband on the verge of a hunger-educed coma, I didn't get it adjusted right. so you get a crooked picture of the temple. Oh well. Next time, I'll order a pizza and leave the kids at home while I go myself.Despite how it might appear, we did have a good time. Typical family picture though.
After walking around - the weather was perfect - we grabbed a bite to eat at the V.I. Jeff was so hungry that nothing tasted good and Pearl was so tired and grouchy that she just didn't want to eat anything. Oh well, Cole and I enjoyed our dinners. It was a nice way to end the year and enjoy the last of the Christmas season.