Mommy Magic

I love having a baby in the house. I love snuggling up with a warm little bundle. I love how they look at me like I am the most important, beautiful person in the world. And I love how I can fix any problem, a bump on the knee, a sleepy head, or even frustration over a not being able to eat electrical plugs. A cuddle and a nurse usually puts everything right.

I just wish that lasted forever. I wish that I could fix every things for all my kids for ever. But I can’t. For my big kids, I can no longer make everything right with a hug. I wish that I could reach in and take out the fear and anxiety in the heart of one of my beautiful babies. I wish I could help another see himself as I see him, an intelligent, fabulous, and interesting person. I wish I could help my little boy not take everything so deeply to heart. But I can’t.

As much as it hurts my heart, I know that taking the hurt and difficulties away from my kids would not serve them well. When I step back a little I see that it is the hard things that will make my children into strong adults. I know that if they never have to struggle, they will not know how strong they are. Or if they never hurt they will never see how beautiful forgiveness is. But it still hurt me to see them sad, frustrated or scared. Sometimes I think it hurts me more. They bounce back and move on but I am still grieving for them and their tender hearts. I want to fix it and make all the bad stuff disappear.

But my four-year-old said it best. After some now long forgotten sadness she was very distraught. I was trying to fix it, to explain why it was not that bad, why she should cheer up. She looked up at me with those big blue eyes and said “Mom, I don’t want you to make it better. I just want you to know that I am sad.”

Oh right. I am not the magician who can fix every things, but I still have a little magic left. I am that place that is safe even if the world gets to big. I am the listening ear that can just hear what they are feeling when their emotions getting more complex than ever before. And I can still have a hug, even though it will not fix everything. It still helps.

It goes so fast

When I had my first child I was so excited by every new milestone he reached. I wrote everything down in his baby book. I even had to add in new sections to the book so I could include everything I wanted to record. I was very proud that he was "advanced" as he smile a week before the books said he should. I was so anxious for him to role over, sit up, crawl. I was always ready for the next step.

Us with our first born

But now, as I hold my youngest boy all I can think is that he is growing too fast. Over this first five months of his life I have held him every chance I could get. I held him even when "the books" said I should put him down. But with 12 years of parenting under my belt I know that the days that I can hold him will be over very soon.

Don't get me wrong, I was very happy to see his smiles come "early" and I will be excited when he starts to crawl and at his first steps. But they will also be a little bitter sweet because I know that those first unsteady steps will be the first of many that will take him on his journey.

I already miss his newborness. I love that he is so alert, that he laughs and interacts with his siblings. It was pretty fun the first time he rolled over. But I miss his little rolled up fists, his sleepy grey newborn eyes and that he was small enough to hold all the time. Now he is too big. My back gets sore, plus he wants to wiggle and move.

As I was doing laundry, I found a sleeper that he has outgrown. I held it for awhile before I put it away in my "too small" box. This sleeper was one that I passed down to all my kids. I know that twelve years ago, when my first wore that sleeper, some nice lady told me to treasure every moment because they go so fast. It was not that I did not believe her, but it felt like he would be this small forever. Every day (and night) felt like a year. But now, I get it. It goes so fast.

I know that I can not stop time. Nor do I want to hold my kids back. I want them to grow up and become they great people they are meant to be. But I want hold then now, as they are today. Not push them too fast forward either. Because they are only going to be this size once. And if I forget to pay attention I might miss it.

Shrove Tuesday Cake

After a fun morning of visiting cousins and swimming, our 9 year old daughter was bored. I suggested that seeing as it was that last day to eat sweets before lent we could bake a cake. But I was nursing the baby. She thought she could do it herself.

To be honest, I was not sure she was up for it but I try to not underestimate my kids so I let her lose in the kitchen. Look what happened!

She did great! 

It is amazing what happens when we let our kids free a little at a time. Yes, I was scared that the kitchen would be a mess (it was), and that she would burn herself (she did not) but I kept my mouth shut and let her go. I want our home to be a safe place to learn and grow and make mistakes. Kids need that space. If we protect them too much they never see what they are capable of. If we throw them to the wolves without first trying things out in our home they could get really hurt. But at home, I am here to support (or get the burn cream). The hardest part is keeping myself from taking over. But I think it is paying off.

Who knew a cake could do so much?

Happy Lent everyone.

Christmas is coming

I am trying to take my friend and fellow blogger Anna's advice. (check out her blog at www.eastofcrazyland.wordpress.com). Keep Christmas simple. It is true that my kids would rather have a happy mom and some simple cookies than a grumpy mom and a amazing looking cake that took me five hours to make. So here I am on a cold (but not as cold) winters day making cookies and letting my helper get right into it. Then end result was yummy cookies, great Christmas memories and a really big mess! But hey she even "helps" with the clean up.