Two For One . . . 1. Busy Busy Busy and 2. Welcome to Motherhood

I haven’t written in a minute because, as much as I sound like a broken record, we’ve been crazy busy . . . mostly with basketball, but also, just with life. I think I’ve accepted, with two kids, it’s the season we’re in. We’re going to have periods of time when it seems like we meet ourselves coming and going. But it also means there has to be intentionality on our part. Intentionally creating time and space to just be home . . . intentionally making sure Patrick and I are communicating beyond schedules and house remodeling fiascos adventures and work stuff and so on . . . and by default, that means intentionally saying “no” even though it probably upsets some people. Such is life. There is just no way, we’re going to please everyone. So, we do our best and create space and margin where we can and just keep truckin’.

But . . . that’s not even what I want to talk about today. I’ve written about slowing down, being busy, and saying “no” to the point of redundancy, and a quick search through past posts should help you locate those writings if you’re so inclined.

So, without further ado or any semblance off segue, I’m going to just abruptly change course here . . . much like when my fifteen-year-old takes a corner too fast while driving . . . buckle up everybody.

If you know me, you know I love a good, overused cliché expression. I always have and always, unapologetically, will. When I was in high school and wrote for academic competitions that was, without fail, one of the biggest criticisms I received from the judges. But alas, no one is judging my work now, or if they are, I don’t care. So I’ll just get to the point and with absolutely nothing in the way of a real introduction, I give you . . .

Motherhood in Clichés . . . Lessons Learned in Almost 16 Years of Mommin’

“Don’t sweat the small stuff”. . . alternately, “Don’t major in the minors” . . . and just in case you’re not catching on, “Don’t make mountains out of molehills” . . . I struggle with this one so much. I have a Ph.D. in creating issues where they just don’t exist. I don’t know if it’s my control freak nature or what, but I’m, albeit ever so slowly, learning to let the little things go, starting with Andrew’s version of a “clean” bedroom and Anna’s tendency to ask endless questions of anyone she meets . . . bless it . . . and I’m sorry but that’s all I’ve got. Some battles just aren’t worth fighting.

“The days are long, but the years are short” . . . let me tell y’all a little secret, I wasn’t a fan of the newborn days and weeks. Nor was I a fan of those early weeks and months after bringing Anna home, which felt very much like having a newborn. Everything is different, and no matter how much you try to prepare, whether it be by birth or adoption, having a new child totally upends your life. I really don’t like having my life upended (see the point above). But there is so much truth to this statement. The hours can seem to drag by when you have a little one, but the years absolutely fly by. I look at my kiddos now, at almost ten and fifteen years of age, and have trouble recalling those baby and toddler days. So cherish those moments mamas of littles, but also hold them loosely because . . .

“Don’t discount the value and beauty of your children growing up” . . . I’m not sure where this one came from or how overused it really is, but I refuse to live in the past. I’ve loved watching my kids grow into the people they were created to be, and while I most certainly won’t be wishing the days (or hours) away, I also won’t be dwelling on the past. Another little secret, I know I’ll miss these people when they fly the nest (however that looks). I mean Andrew is my Jeopardy/Trivial Pursuit buddy, and we share a love of basketball . . . but also, I have started to look forward to the empty-ish nest in the not so distant future. Invest in your marriage (if you’re married . . . if not then invest in a solid circle of friends and family) so that one day, when you’re kiddos grow up, you aren’t left trying to figure out who you are without them.

I’ll leave you with one of my favorite quotes, from the opening lines of one of my favorite books, which I believe, while it was never meant to, sums up motherhood quite perfectly . . .

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.” ― Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities

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