My Mom's Here

The intense sun beasts through our corner window in our main living space this morning.  It is freezing outside, but the hot sun is grabbing my attention to each outside element. Inside it reflects off the little 1/4 size viola.  We let our nanny go this morning.  Objectively, good.  For our family, good. As a mom, tricky with a side of mourning, but appropriate. I'm grateful I am able talk now after a half-silent winter and think straight about these things!  As the nanny saw me getting stronger, my role switched from a "mam" to an enabling mother of a college student home on spring break.  The college student who does not know what she does not know.  I will pray for her future that she finds places to exercise her gifts and excel, and that she makes her family proud. One month and two days of her work was a good amount of time for me to understand what she can do.  It only took my Oma an hour. What I'd give for that kind of wisdom! I h...

Thankfully we were all home today.  Kids making fun and messes, music and laughter. Mike is home from work and plenty of down time.  As he just now left to pick up our nanny for the week, I will recount the events. I am talking more these days, and able to flood into full dissertations to the children, rationalizing and explaining everything I can get my thoughts on.  Then blurting them out in some overbearing way.  Not quite the parent I had hoped to be.  I was convicted when I came across this page from a favorite parenting book, How to Talk so your Children will Listen & Listen so your Children will Talk by Adele Faber and Elaine Mazlish .  Page 12 & 13.  Basically, I was the mom on page 12 today and one day I want to be the mom on page 13. Instead of "Questions and Advice," acknowledge with a word, "Ohh, mmmmm, I see . . ." After that sad little jaunt, I decided to make stuffed cabbage today.  Clean and healthy eating, cance...

Humming a little tune is so refreshing.  For the past few months would save my voice for Mike to come home, or to explain something pertinent to the children, and well up with frustration that it fell on deaf ears, or even worse, that they could not understand me.  I have spoken over the past few months like I have a lasso around my tongue, a marshmallow stuck to the roof of my mouth, or talking through a muzzle. Such is the way the Myasthenia Gravis flareup has been, but thankfully I have a voice whether I have a voice or not. And I have been able to hum a tune and talk the past few weeks which has felt amazing. I'm slowly starting to shift my glance to dread of medicine to gratefulness for medicine.  Don't we all need to be held up by something anyway, and what's wrong with a few tools, discoveries, and tries to get a fully-lived life back?  I'm shifting my gaze from doing millions of things for others and moving to the me, myself and I. A day does not go by tha...

Truly, we are not here alone, on this earth which is fallen with much sin and sadness.  But it must cross minds across the world as the nights plays on, as trials ensue, as people march on with their own lives in sought after independence, either intentionally or unintentionally hurting people and relationships along the way.  I was always intrigued with a song from the musical, Little Women, called "Here Alone." The character is Marmee, mother of four, sitting down to write a letter back to her husband at war.   Mindi Dickstein wrote these words for Marmee to sing , she begins, "My dear husband. . .   Write a letter, be inventive Tell you everything is fine. Be attentive to the distance Send my love with every line Every word should bring you closer and Caress you with it's tone. Nothing should remind you That I am here alone I can't tell you what I'm feeling. I can't talk about the war How the peeling of the church bells Brings the battle to our...