Climbing

To start the week out, Sunday Mark and I got our first, bona fide, official, complete with hourly rate, babysitter. Not to go to a wedding or attend a funeral or see a movie or do anything that was obligatory or scheduled. We went climbing. This is the activity that first brought Mark and me together, and how we fell in love. There is something metaphorical about climbing and building a relationship—the trust that the climber and belayer have to have, their reliance on each other, their physical connection by way of the rope, the natural inclination to shout words of encouragement. Climbing always brings us back to the roots of our relationship where we are our truest, most playful selves. We return to our life of house and marriage and children renewed and reconnected to each other. It’s that shot of energy to our relationship that helps to sustain us through trying times. Did I mention it was a record-breaking, gorgeous, sunny day with cloudless skies? Just icing on the cake.

This too shall pass

Right now my life feels so very full that it’s beginning to stretch at the seams, the individual threads that hold it together are visible and strained. Those little threads that contain the weight of my days and nights are vulnerable to the slightest abrasion that could slice through the fibers, and it all could come tumbling down.

I am trying just to maintain right now, not take on too much or go too fast. Be gentle with myself and try to do the same for others. The Jewish phrase, “This too shall pass,” rings true with me right now, regarding both the lovely and the irksome. I feel surrounded by this dichotomy right now, cherishing the quiet moments with Cameron and his baby smell, and breathing through the long days of working and mothering and “wifing” with little time for myself.

“This too shall pass” has become my mantra recently, to remind myself to enjoy the little moments in life because they will soon be gone, and to let go of many of my worries, because they are only temporal. Do not rush through these days; there will be time for other aspirations and desires. What I have now is worth embracing with every atom of my being.

A new dance

I'm taking a deep breath right now. And a second. Not something that happens very often around here these days. Life is full with two kids. Sometimes it feels so chaotic that I wish I could snap my fingers and escape to five years ago, but those moments are few and far between. Mostly, I love the feeling of completeness I have when I am caring for my family.

Mark and I are gingerly feeling out the dance steps needed to follow the music of two children. Sometimes I have to stand in place rocking a baby in my arms while Mark twirls around me to entertain Carter. Other times, Mark has to bow off the dance floor to take a few minutes' rest and nurse a beer before re-entering, ready to go again. We definitely step on each other's toes at times, but we try to be understanding and recognize that neither of us is familiar with this new music, that we both need time to find the rhythm and get in the groove.

Below are some recent pictures of some of our more peaceful moments. I try to make an effort to cherish those times when we are just living in the moment without worries of finances and daycare and parenting disagreements.

Mark and the boys on the couch (credit: Noelani for the cute clothes!) As you can see, Cameron is having no problem putting on weight. After his most recent doctor's appointment, the doctor said I seem to be equipped to feed triplets, at least. Cameron had gained 4 pounds in two weeks, half his body weight.

This is Cameron's first camping trip at six weeks old. People thought we were crazy for doing it, but I think we needed to prove to ourselves that we could still get out in the the woods, even with two kids. It went pretty smoothly. Not quite as relaxing as camping without kids, but still better than not going. I think we're going to attempt it again this weekend, with some climbing mixed in, too.

Me and the boys. Cameron's getting some naked time to heal his diaper rash, and Carter's hammin' it up for the camera. Lately, when Carter sits next to Cameron or asks to hold him, he then says, "Camera?" as if to imply, "Don't we look cute enough to take a picture of?" And he's usually right.

I

Odds and Ends

Every time I actually get a chance to sit down and post, I feel so fulfilled. And I check my friends’ blogs daily for updates. Yet, for some reason, I have a hard time just taking the simple step of logging in and beginning. Much like a child and a bath; don’t want to get in, don’t want to get out. So I am going to make more of an effort to just simply sit down and type, remembering that I don’t have to have a specific topic in mind, and that I don’t have to write volumes.

Today I am thankful for my sweet husband. As it gets harder and harder for me to do every day tasks as my belly grows daily, I appreciate simple little things even more. Today, Mark sent me an email asking what I wanted for dinner, and that he’d have it ready for when I get home since he’s leaving soon after to go skiing with some friends. The end of the day is hard for me, especially on Friday, especially after a week of Carter not sleeping well. Dinner’s the last thing I want to tackle. Somehow, though, Mark has the energy to work a full week, pick up and entertain Carter, make dinner, and then go skiing under the full moon.

This is why we complement each other well. We each seem to reach our limit at different times and are able to be the support and strength for the other. This past Monday, as I was feeling overwhelmed by bills and being pregnant and taxes and all the other minutiae of adulthood, Mark took the initiative to clean up the house. I hope that Mark is able to feel like I step up and support him on occasion as well.

Although somewhat of a mixed blessing, Mark and I have had one thing taken off our very full plate. After having a realtor do a market analysis of our house, we’ve decided not to move this spring. We would lose too much money and would not be able to afford a house we want in the mountains. Although both of us were looking forward to living in a place that suits us better and were very disappointed about how little our house is worth right now, it does mean that we won’t be in the process of moving with a newborn. We can focus on the other changes going on in our lives, not a short list right now.

A time to...

Warning: The following is highly philosophical and full of relationship-speak. Do not read if in search of light-hearted humor.

On our "hot date" at the Breckenridge Brewery last night, Mark and I had quite a deep conversation, during which we began discussing the dynamics of relationships and how people's personalities can be influenced by them. Being the teachers we are, Mark came up with the graphic organizer of a Venn Diagram, and I jumped right on board. Basically, we concluded that people have many characteristics that show themselves at one time or another, and we highlight those based on our current circumstances. For example, when we are dating, we highlight the ones we have in common with the other person, the overlapping part of our circles in our Venn Diagram. We feel so in sync and like-minded with the other person. It's not faking who we are; it truly is a matter of emphasizing certain traits.

However, we can't ignore all those other traits that make us up. Stress, life changes, or a new environment might coax out those other characteristics. Let me tell you, an addition to the family certainly does. Necessity of domesticity when having a baby forces my organized, on-task, schedule-loving self out of hiding and to the forefront of my personality. My free-spirited, LNT, let's-be-spontaneous self gets shoved to the bottom of the bag. That self hasn't left completely, but it's definitely not in the spotlight.

So, after all that philosophizing, venn diagram drawing, and analyzing, what's the point? The point is, how do we maintain relationships based on common traits when the common traits aren't highlighted by our current situation? As Mark and I have talked about, it's not the things we do that we have in common; those are just our avenues to whatever makes us click. So how do we find new avenues to those same ends? That's the question, I guess. Not just for us, but for everyone in a relationship, whether it be friendly, familial, or romantic. When life changes, how do we change to maintain what we have, but in a new way?

Let me know if you've found the magical solution.

This song kept running through my head as I was writing. Maybe the answer's in there somewhere.

To every thing, turn, turn, turn
There is a season, turn, turn, turn
And a time to every purpose under heaven
A time to be born, a time to die
A time to plant, a time to reap
A time to kill, a time to heal
A time to laugh, a time to weep

To everything, turn, turn, turn
There is a season, turn, turn, turn
And a time to every purpose under heaven
A time to build up, a time to break down
A time to dance, a time to mourn
A time to cast away stones
A time to gather stones together

To everything, turn, turn, turn
There is a season, turn, turn, turn
And a time to every purpose under heaven
A time of love, a time of hate
A time of war, a time of peace
A time you may embrace
A time to refrain from embracing

To everything, turn, turn, turn
There is a season, turn, turn, turn
And a time to every purpose under heaven
A time to gain, a time to lose
A time to rend, a time to sew
A time to love, a time to hate
A time for peace, I swear it's not too late

Dust dust, sweep sweep

Today is a pensive day. I spend much of Friday at work getting lessons ready for the next week. I have lots of time at my desk to be productive, but the most productive thing I seem to do is think. After the tornado of a week I've had, I tend to drift into reflection. I open my computer to write a lesson and find myself posting here. It's becoming my therapy, my confessional. It feels like house-cleaning for my spirit. Recording my soul's struggles feels like dropping off a big load of stuff to Goodwill. It leaves me with more space and a twinge of virtuosity.

One of my favorite authors of the moment is Anne LaMott. She has written a variety of books, but my favorite work of hers is autobiographical. She is so honest and true to herself. She speaks of the dark parts of herself that I would be afraid to let anyone see. I saw her speak at a local bookstore recently, and I wondered how she doesn't just blush with the knowledge that everyone in the room knows about her (not-so-)secrets. It gives me courage to at least want to do the same. I'm not ready yet, but maybe one day. I try to justify it by thinking that it would be easier in a book when it's all lumped together, not strung out paragraph by paragraph in multiple entries.

Thoughts on marriage is one of those things I need to clean out of my soul closet. I think there is still this antiquated mentality that what goes on in your marriage should stay between the two of you. Admitting it's hard or that you have to work at it or that it not all daisies and roses is a sign of failure. Any sort of complaint is registered with the gossip police as "they're having problems," not, "they're totally normal and there's no news to report." Mark and I are fine. Fine as any other normal couple out there, but that doesn't mean there aren't hard parts.

For instance, I thought it was hard trying to share responsibilities with my sister when we were growing up. We'd fight over who had to clean the bathroom and whose turn it was to feed the dog. That was nothing. We had the higher powers of mom and dad to step in and mediate. They told us who had to do what and what would happen if we didn't. We'd fight about it and then it'd be over. Now there's none of that. Couples have to act all grown up and civilized. There's no one around telling us we'll lose TV for the week if we don't do our chores. We have no other motivator but ourselves to share the load and get things done. Because Mark and I don't see eye to eye on what chores are important to do when, we are constantly compromising and trying to accommodate the other person. Sometimes I just want to be four again and stomp my foot and throw a temper tantrum. Maybe we need to just call each other "poopy faces" and be done with it.

Another ponderance deep down is parenting. Of course you hear a million times that being a mom is the hardest thing you'll ever do. And yes, that's true, but not one bit in the way I thought it would be. I really don't mind the diaper changing and financial burden. I've felt pretty confident with decisions I've made that will affect Carter long-term like discipine and day care. The hard part is to not forget that part of myself that existed before Carter and before marriage. The responsibilities of home and husband and kid seem to push away that carefree part of me. I have always been great at making lists, being organized, getting things done. Being spontaneous and impulsive fit in the spaces between. But with more "grown-uppy" stuff in my life, that little kid's voice inside me gets harder to hear. I notice I have to make more of an effort to listen to that quiet, innocent voice. What came so naturally before requires more mindful attention and effort. It's finding that balance between enjoying the moment and and not feeling like my life is out of control (a messy house can do that to me.)

I think that might be enough mental house-cleaning for now. It wasn't anything major, certainly not a metaphorical couch or desk, just a few knick-knacks here and there that needed to be taken to Goodwill. Maybe it's one step farther in being true to myself and getting to know who I am as I evolve with life. I think I feel a little better now.