Spilled Milk

My three children were gone last week at camp. Six days and five nights of a fractured family, agony (at times) for their mother.

I felt such relief, such happiness, such wholeness, when I picked them up on Friday!

My sweet, precious, loving children.

Well, at least for the moment... They've been home just three days, but already they're back to the typical bickering and vying for sibling dominance.

Case in point: Tonight, after I'd poured three glasses of milk at the counter, I told each one to take a glass and sit down at the table for dinner. The same drink was poured into three identical glasses, at what appeared {to my untrained adult eye} to be the same level. Evidently, one twin (we'll call her Twin A) had set her mind on a particular glass at the same moment that the other twin (B) laid her hand on it. Of course neither one would back down from this challenge.

And of course I could see what was coming. But I let it play out.

After some verbal sparring, they moved on to physical force. By this time, each twin had her hand on the glass and was determined to pick it up and take it to her seat. Surely it's no surprise to you, my astute reader, that the result was spilled milk!

All over the counter. All over the stool that was beneath it. All over the floor. {Why, oh why, does stuff like this happen on the day the house is cleaned?}

But I stayed planted in my seat at the kitchen table. This wasn't my fight, and it wasn't my mess to clean up. And one of the lessons I learned from having my kids away at camp all week is that they can do for themselves! They don't need mom to come clean up their messes and take care of life's difficult moments for them. We all needed reminding of that valuable lesson.

So, there they were, cleaning up that big mess while their brother and I sat at the table, ready to eat. I didn't offer to help, and they didn't ask. They knew that their fighting caused the spill. They knew it was their responsibility to clean it up.

Responsibility: it's such an important life lesson. So what's a little spilled milk?

Last On, First Off

If you have read my blog during the past year, you may recall that I've created a Top 10 -- my Bucket List -- of things I'd like to accomplish before I die. (Well, actually, I'm up to 11. I added one more in January before I'd had a chance to cross off any of the other 10.)

Of course, this list is dynamic. I'll always have roughly 10 items on my list, though those specific items will change as I accomplish some and set my sights on others. I mean, I'm only 39 and I plan to be here for many more decades. What if I finish them all by age 45, but don't add any more? Then what? Just sit and wait to die? Not likely!)

Some of the items on my list will take years to accomplish, as they require very specific training, preparation, and particular circumstances to achieve. Others are rather simple, but are important to me. For some, such as #11, it's not a matter of training or preparation. For that one, it's simply mind over matter.

What is #11, you ask? It's "wear a bikini -- in public."

It seems like a silly, frivolous goal. But mentally, it's a biggie.

Though I've worn bikinis occasionally in the past, I haven't in recent years. But it's not so much about body as it is about confidence. And my natural tendency is to be stingy about my self-confidence. I easily see all my imperfections. I've had to train myself to appreciate my own skills and accomplishments. And to allow myself to be a work in progress. I grant this courtesy to my friends and family, but I tend to withhold it from myself.

So the accomplishment of #11 really is about saying to myself and the world: "Here I am -- the pleasing, the not-so-pleasing, the whole package. I'm not hiding anything (OK, well, literally I am hiding a little with the bikini, but metaphorically I'm lettin' it all hang out!). And it's OK if I'm not perfect. I accept myself for who I am, and I'm taking a risk that you will, too."

So there you go. I did it. I'm crossing off #11. Betcha I cross off two more by September... Stay tuned!

Empty Nest

A vacancy no longer filled
With needs and wants
And right-nows.

Bickering and whining
And passionate arguments
For or against nothing, really.

No silly jokes;
No slapstick.
No arms extended for a hug.

No cuddles on the couch;
No heads tilted upward,
Lips pursed for a kiss

Like birdies in a nest
Seeking nourishment
From mama bird.

The silence I coveted is cavernous.
The time is timeless.
The relief is new anxiety.

But it's important to them, to us.
They grow, they learn,
They know not to need,

To have reliance on self,
Appreciation for others,
The joy of joy.

They learn, they struggle,
They achieve!
They gain strength.

They discover their wings,
The strength of those wings;
They rejoice in their newfound selves.


Is this what they mean by empty nest? My children, like baby birds, are gone. As they discover their inner strengths, their fortitudes, and what is meaningful to them, their mama and papa watch from afar and await their return.

We survey our empty nest. Baby-less. Unneeded. Unclaimed.

A foreign state.

A trial run, this week is. They will be back. We will be whole. We will each have experiences to take with us to someday, when the nest is empty for good, and our birdies make new nests of their own.

My children: Fly, be free. But please come back to me.

Hiatus

Since beginning this blog last summer, I've loved writing for it. For most of the months I've had this blog, I've averaged 2.5-3 entries per week. That's a pace I enjoy.

For some weeks during this time, however, I've been struck by a muteness of a sort. Life moves around me, I share experiences with others, but I can't find the means to communicate. That's when I've had "writer's block." It feels almost like torture for me, and causes much anxiety. But it passes.

For the last month or more, it may appear as though I'm once again experiencing writer's block, as I've written very little. However, that's not the case this time. I'm filled to brim with experiences and opinions to express. What's lacking is dedicated time. This mom has simply been unable to find an hour or more of quiet, uninterrupted time in which to compose her thoughts. So they remain on little scraps of paper tucked in my "writing" drawer.

But I miss writing. Not only for this blog, but for other purposes.

So this is simply a hiatus. I will return to this blog! Sooner rather than later.

I appreciate all those who check this site and follow me. I love receiving your comments and plan to provide content for them very soon.

Until then, enjoy your summer!