For Now…

In the future, my boys might roll their eyes in embarrassment if I try to kiss them goodbye. For now, Owen clings to me, begging me not to leave and Aiden hugs my neck and whispers in my ear, “When you come back, I want to hold you. And you’re the best Mama in the world.” I will not let the rush of life in the morning rob me of these treasures.

10476063_10154517600145015_5097624618393217751_o

In the future, I may be able to say goodnight from across the room – may even be lucky enough to get a hug or a kiss, before my boys retire to their rooms to do whatever teenage boys do before finally going to sleep. For now, I will not begrudge the long, loud bubble baths, the need to clip 40 nails that are not my own while making a game of counting the clips, the endless re-readings of the same favorite stories, the stalling for water or covers or deep meaningful questions at the door because they just don’t want me to leave, or the sweet nothings they call out before I go, “I love you! I’ll miss you while I sleep! When I wake up, I wanna hold you! I love you more!”

1780700_10153902983170015_104766073_n

In the future, when everyone has their own schedules and responsibilities and friends, I may have a quiet dinner alone. For now, I will happily cook as many meals as possible for us to eat as a family even if it means the cycle of dishes is unending, the process of getting every bite into my two-year-old’s mouth is a battle of wits and wills, the milk is always spilled, my food is always cold and up for grabs, the floor is always sticky, and chaos envelops us. I will long for the chaos later, so I will not wish it away today.

1623563_10153881078960015_610147435_n

In the future, my boys may fall down and get right back up because they’re too big to cry over scraped needs or hurt feelings. For now, I will gladly provide the kiss that makes it all better, the snuggle that makes the hurt go away, the reassurance that time heals all wounds. Because when the wounds are far more complicated, I want them to know that I am a safe place to come for comfort.

1538876_10154037938365015_4956990202289344729_n

In the future, going out with my husband alone, rather than taking an act of congress and a financial benefactor to accomplish, might be as easy as walking out the door. For now, I will cherish the few-and-far-between dates because their scarcity makes them more special and the thought and planning that went into making them happen will be missed when replaced with the casual, “You wanna go out somewhere tonight?”

10257627_10154638072305015_2298453261912513914_o

In the future, I may have all the time I want or need to write that article that will finally get me noticed or publish that book that’s on my bucket list. For now, the lives I am helping to build that demand so much of my time, are molding me into a person with a perspective worth noticing. I will not resent the delay because, “Time you enjoy wasting is not wasted time.” – John Lennon

A New Year . . . A New Look!

It has been 1 year today since I bought the domain for “Nostalgia In The Making” and began the journey that many of you have borne witness to and seen develop over time. One year of growth and change, good posts full of great ideas and other not so inspiring posts that were just part of the process. I am amazed that it has been a year and humbled by the audience that I have been privileged to build.

And on such an important anniversary, I wanted to give the blog a new look that seemed more fitting to what it has become. There are many aspects of the design that I find symbolic and intriguing, but I will let each of you see what you like in it without telling you what to think. I am so excited to share this design with you and hear what everyone’s thoughts!

Thoughts Of A Working Mom On Bed Rest

It’s every working mom’s dream, right? To have plenty of time to lay around on the couch and have everyone else take care of all your responsibilities while you just . . . rest. Hmmm. You might think so until you have a doctor tell you that you have to do just that. For a month. This forced hiatus from life, otherwise known as bed rest, is anything but a fantasy, as reality sets in and you realize that you no longer have any control over your life, your home, or your children. Everything must be done for you and your bank account slowly reminds you why it is that you and your husband both work. In the mean time, your hubby takes over all the details of your finances, family, work, and home while trying desperately to hang on to the last threads of sanity. You can forget romance or sweet nothings – you just hope this whole episode doesn’t crush him. Although your job has been expecting to lose you to maternity leave in a month, they find themselves spontaneously in a lurch and end up hiring a temp to replace you. You hope and pray he’s not as good as you are and everyone is glad for you to come back when you’re ready, but will they be? And your little boy, whom you adore cries in your arms every night because he misses you and there is almost nothing you can do with or for him anymore. All the people you love and care about do everything they can for you and, although you are extremely grateful, you can’t help but feel like you’ve just become a giant millstone around everyone’s neck. And there’s nothing you can do about it. You have to protect your unborn baby and bring him safely into the world when he’s ready. So you while away the hours with books and the internet and TV while your life marches on around you but without you.

Still sound like a dream? Well, it’s not exactly peachy, but there are a few things that I have learned from this whole process so far:

  • People who really care are willing to do SO much. It is more than words of sympathy, it’s service that stuns you. And although you may feel guilty for asking so much of people, you know that no one who has given anything resents what they’ve given. And it is beautiful.
  • My hubby would do anything for his family. Even when it feels like he can’t, he does. He is a man worth having and holding and I am lucky.
  • Once again, as I have said so many times before, I am reminded that we have to hold tightly to the little things. The beautiful things. And not become bogged down in difficulty. Rather than sink in the face of all that I cannot do, I need to cherish the time that I do have to read my son countless stories; do silly projects on the couch like paper plate superhero masks for his birthday; write notes of gratitude to the many people who are helping us (something I am normally so bad at accomplishing); and catch up on some blogging that pain and stress have kept me from staying on top of.
  • People so often surprise you, and most of the time in a good way. You never know who will stand up and do something extraordinary that you never expected or something small that is touching in its intimacy.
  • It is never shameful to ask for help. Those who want to give will do so gladly and those who judge you for asking can either get over it or get lost!
  • Rest is overrated! So in the future when I complain about being too busy or stressed, I need to remember that it is those very things that fill my plate and make me so busy that I miss when they are taken away. They are the building blocks of my life and add purpose and fulfillment to it. As Jonathan always says, “To be a happy man, I have to be a tired man!”
  • In the end, a month or two of hardship is tiny compared to the new life we are bringing into the world. One that will, as his brother did, completely change our lives and enrich them in ways we never even thought possible. Owen, I know you are worth it and I can’t wait meet you!

♥ For any who are interested . . . A Small Way to be a Big Help

A Willing Recipient of Kindness

I am an extrovert.  Anyone who knows me would never dispute this fact. My husband is an introvert. He recharges his emotional and psychological batteries with time to himself whereas I need the ears and voices of those who will listen and contribute while I process things I don’t even know I’m thinking till they’re outside my head. Most of the time we are able to find the delicate balance between our two personalities and manage to support one another according to the other’s needs even if they don’t always coincide with our own. Sometimes, however, I have to step outside of the realm of familiar faces and voices before the monotony of daily, normal interaction threatens to drive me deep into myself and I begin to shut down without even know what’s really wrong. This unhealthy threat seems to be ever-present on the edge of my emotions while I am pregnant and hopped up on hormones, tempting me to draw into myself rather than interact and release whatever is pent-up.

Today was one of those days. But rather than give in and lay on my bed, lost in a book all day pretending I wasn’t down, I got up, got out, and got better. I told Jonathan I just needed to get out of the house and I got in the car with no specific agenda or real goal other than to shake myself free of the fog I was settling into. And I realized something very crucial as I headed home a couple of hours later. I love people. Sometimes I let cynicism or impatience get the better of me and I jump too quickly to see flaws and negativity. But, in general, I am inspired even by simple interactions, unexpected displays of kindness, and windows of vulnerability that give me glimpses into someone else’s soul. I realized that, when I am sinking, I don’t always need a long drawn out conversation over coffee with a girlfriend where I try to analyze all the ins and outs of why I may be feeling the way I am. Sometimes I just need to witness humanity in its simple beauty and walk away changed by it. The smiles of the lady in the bakery who, despite the exhaustion written all over her face, has nothing by kind and helpful things to say and who wishes me luck with the baby as I buy my bread and head out the door. The ladies in the thrift store who don’t know that I’m listening from the dressing room while they recount to each other with a mixture of pride, anxiety, and deep affection stories about their teenagers on valentine’s day. Or the man at Lowe’s who, although he was about to leave early before I arrived needing help, seemed to be a bottomless pit of helpful tips and happy energy and a willingness to be of any kind of assistance – crossing the store multiple times to get something I forgot so that I wouldn’t need to leave the register and then loading my car for me in the rain – both of us laughing the whole time despite the relative unpleasantness of our days prior to this interaction. I came home smiling and cooked spaghetti for supper at my son’s request, the entire evening transformed from what the morning projected it to be. Today served as a reminder to keep my eyes open and allow myself to see, all around, the beauty that lives in people and is eagerly waiting to come out and be bestowed on willing recipients. Let me always be willing!

A Mini-Vacation In A Day

There are some days that you feel like you’ll never recover from. And then there are days that epitomize the recovery that weeks of stress require. Perhaps the later is more rare, but it also leaves a more lasting impression on your psyche. Friday was just such a day for me. It was a mini-vacation in a day without ever leaving town – or even a 5 mile radius of where I work – and it has invigorated my spirit and refreshed my mind and body in a way that I haven’t experienced in some time. I confessed to my husband when I returned home, that despite a few instances of describing my wonderful family to those who inquired, I didn’t really think of them, or anyone else, at all. It was a day just for me and I reveled in it.

It began with an early departure from work to attend a “team-building” event that had the potential to be either amazing or awkward. Thankfully it turned out to be delightful. The company took our whole department to the local Viking cooking school and had us divide into groups to take a cooking class, at the end of which we got to enjoy the fruit of our labor. The menu we were preparing was entitled “Chicago Steakhouse” and was comprised of grilled rib-eye steaks over a bed of sautéed spinach and mushrooms with a side of bacon wrapped scallops atop homemade hash-browns and spicy apricot glaze, a delicious salad with fresh vinaigrette, and a heavenly apple tart for desert. There was wine and appetizers, lots of laughter and camaraderie, and, in the end, the utter enjoyment of a job very well done.

After stuffing myself to my heart’s content and taking a few extra minutes to browse the Viking gift shop, it was on to the next event of the day – my one hour prenatal massage at Aqua Day Spa, courtesy of my husband for our anniversary. Anyone whose ever been pregnant, and even most of you who haven’t, know that there’s not much better than calming your aching and disproportionate body with this kind of relaxation. The physical and emotional therapy of this section of my day needs little explanation or embellishment, so I’ll just say that it was lovely!

I went straight from my massage appointment to their salon next door and got my first haircut in over six months. And this wasn’t just any haircut. It was a masterpiece by a hairdresser who took an hour and a half with me, carefully and meticulously getting everything just the way he, and I, wanted it to be to make sure that I “wowed” my hubby when I got home. I love my hair long, but too often I feel that I sacrifice style for length and it just hangs loosely around my face with very little in the way of interest or fashion. This time, however, he managed to leave my length and still create a style that had movement and life and intrigue. I was SO pleased. He actually apologized to me for taking so long, and I assured him that anyone who was willing to take a such time to pamper or beautify me, was more than welcome to do so and I was quite grateful!

After all of this, I returned home to find that my boys had had a fantastic day together and had made lasagna and salad for supper which I didn’t have to lift a finger to prepare or clean up. As I shared with them the details of my day, I am sure that every feature of my face and the deepest parts of my eyes confessed more adequately than my lips ever could that… I was myself again. I was happy. And I was reminded, once again that life does not consist wholly of the tasks and stresses that claim so much of our time.