The New Year's Resolution That Came Without a Warning

The other morning was the same as every weekday morning in our house. The kids came to the dining room table to eat their breakfast, one wide awake and giddy, and the other not so much. I stared at my coffee maker as the coffee dripped at a pace that felt far too slow while my dog danced around the kitchen willing me to let him outside. The kids ate their breakfast, and I put the ice packs in their lunch boxes. I began emptying the dishwasher in my usual mechanical way, mugs and glasses first, dishes next, and finally silverware. Just as I finished, the kids both ushered in with their dirty dishes. It’s our morning dance. It’s a dance we have perfected with time.

Next I moved on to the stage where I feel like a sheep herder. I shout short commands that are either met with silence or frustration. Boys brush your teeth, make your beds, hurry up it’s time to get your shoes on. The bus is coming!!! We meander out into the cold to greet the big yellow school bus. I give them each a kiss and tell them to have a good day and just like that the day is in full go mode. Like every other parent on the planet, I never feel like there is enough time in any given day. I rush from one task to the next hoping to be able to check off most of my list before that bus pulls up to drop the boys off because once they get dropped off, it’s homework time and then we rush off to our activities. Once we arrive back home I make dinner while fantasizing about climbing into bed and falling asleep.

My girlfriends and I often joke that we feel like hamsters on a wheel. The laundry can feel all consuming. The meal prep never seems to end. We are working, all while trying to delicately balance the daily life that comes with having a family. Homework, grocery shopping, permission slips, school theme days, doctor appointments, cleaning, science projects, meetings, soccer practice, and the list goes on and on and on. Sometimes I feel like I’m a catcher and the pitcher is whipping ball after ball with no break in between. Sure it’s exhausting, but it can also feel isolating and overwhelming. Don’t get me wrong my husband does just as much around here. We are all just trying to keep our heads above water.

I have never been someone who makes New Year's resolutions. It’s not because I don’t think I have room to improve, because I do. We all do. It’s because I don’t like to set myself up for failure. I always thought New Year resolutions had to be these grandiose proclamations. I’m just not ambitious enough to decide on January 1^st that I’m going to change my entire body composition or go to bed by 9 pm every night, or write a book. Okay, so going to bed earlier probably wouldn’t be completely crazy, but somehow it would still feel like a lot of pressure to me.

The other morning though something changed all that. After the kids and I completed our regular morning dance, I went into my bedroom to make my bed. My youngest son was brushing his teeth and then he called for me. I went into the bathroom and saw his little smiling face staring back at me from the reflection in the mirror. Then I saw my reflection and I noticed how stressed I looked. Just as I was about to say; What buddy? You have to hurry up.  I stopped myself and instead I looked at him and smiled. That’s when he looked at me and said, “Mommy will you comb my hair for me?” He handed me the comb. As I started to comb his hair I had a moment of clarity. I think moments of clarity often come during the simplest times. Although they seem to come when we need them the most, if we don’t take a minute to notice them they can pass us right by without so much as a warning. As I stood there combing my 6-year-old’s hair, I realized there will come a day when I will do this for the last time. I won’t know it’s the last time though. There will come a day when I no longer have two kids chattering away at the breakfast table while I stare at the coffee brewing. There will come a day when I no longer have lunch boxes to pack, or a full dishwasher to unload. As I tried to hide the tears that were welling up in my eyes, my son looked at me and asked if I was okay. “Mommy is fine bud. Actually mommy is really good.”

I brought the boys to the school bus, and kissed them both goodbye. I waited to watch the bus actually pull away and round the corner until it was no longer in my sight. I realized that stressing over my list of things to accomplish is causing me to miss out on the two most important parts of that list. There will come a day when that school bus leaves my sight for the very last time. There will come a day when the sound of the school bus in my neighborhood will remind me of the two little boys who used to run off every afternoon, eager to tell me all about their day. As parents we take note of all the firsts, but we don’t do the same for the lasts. It’s not because the lasts aren’t important, it’s because we don’t get a warning that they have arrived.

As I walked back into my house I made my first New Year's resolution. I decided to make a valiant effort to be present instead of worrying about every little thing I should be getting done. When my son called for me I could have said I was making my bed and told him to finish up, but I would have missed out on a moment that felt so much bigger than a comb and a mirror. I saw him. I really saw him. I saw a mother and a son. I saw a little boy who still wants and needs his mommy, and for a brief moment I saw a big teenager who would no longer need me to comb his hair. Far too often I tell my kids they have to wait because I’m in the middle of vacuuming, or cooking, sending an email or making a phone call. What will happen if I skip the vacuuming, order takeout, or put off the email for an hour or so? Well, with any luck I won’t miss out on any of their lasts. We can’t control how fast time moves, but we can control how we spend that time. I tucked them both in that night and as I closed their doors I silently willed them to give me some type of warning when the last tuck in is near. I know I won’t get a warning though, so until then I’m going to make sure I don’t miss one. 

My Best Gift

Every year I tell myself that come December, I am not going to get all bananas about the holidays. I tell myself I’m not going to stress about every little thing, and that I’m going to enjoy the little moments. Yet every year when I look in the mirror on any given day in December all I see is a big old bunch of bananas.

I see someone stressed about Christmas cards, decorating the house, getting everyone on my list the perfect gift, shopping among all the other bananas during Christmas week for all the food that I just have to bake and cook, because if I don’t will Christmas even happen? Spoiler alert, yes, Christmas will in fact happen whether or not I find the time to make my peppermint bark. Yes, Christmas will happen no matter what we do or don’t accomplish, but the bigger question is, how do we find the simplicity in the season?

I’m not going to claim to know the answer, but I will say, there is something about knowing another year is coming to a close that makes us all feel nostalgic. The years seems to fly by especially fast when you become a parent. The more I thought about it the more I realized that Christmas is actually the time to celebrate all the gifts we have already received throughout the year. When we receive gifts we want to offer our gratitude.

Dear Friends, Family, and all of those who have impacted my year,

Thank you. Thank you never feels like enough, but it still feels important to say.

Thank you to my friends and family, new and old, who showed up for every small moment. Thank you for picking up the phone when I needed to cry, or I wanted to vent, or shout to you with excitement that I was able to finally figure out how to stop having all my important emails go into my spam folder. Thank you for loving my children like they are your own.

Thank you for making me laugh, and for laughing with me. Thank you for understanding when I need to cry, and for crying with me. Thank you for trusting me with things you wouldn’t share with the entire world. Thank you for allowing me to share the things you would.

Thank you for showing up for the big moments. Thank you for cheering me on when I wasn’t sure if I could do it. Thank you for routing for me during the times I doubted myself the most. Thank you not only for accepting me at my worst, but loving me anyway. Thank you for the Mexican, Chinese, Tai, Italian, and Polish food that we used as our focal point for our gatherings. 

Thank you for never allowing my wine glass to be empty or my coffee to be cold. Thank you for never allowing me to quit, even when I told you I was going to do just that. Thank you for sharing my words, not because you felt like you had to, but because you wanted to. Thank you for listening to my endless stories about my grandmother and seeming entertained throughout each and every one. 

Thank you for showing up at my front door when I said I was okay, but you knew that was a lie.

For every laugh, every tear, every accomplishment, and every moment of defeat, I needed you all. Every gathering around a table, in a kitchen, or on a porch taught me something. Every time we got to talk, really talk, was a time I appreciated. 

Every small smile. Every brief hug. Every kind word. Every ounce of love and support. It was all a gift. So this Christmas I hope you all know that my biggest gift is you. You see Christmas is one day.

 Most of the gifts we open are packed away for when we need them, but you? You are a gift that will keep giving day after day, and year after year. One day when all the boxes are put away and all I have are my memories, it won’t be the gifts I unwrapped that I will remember. It will be the people I had in my life. 

You are the gift that I am so very happy to have. The best part about this gift is that I get to enjoy it every day for the entire year. Thank you for being my best gift!

A Beautiful Mess

My youngest son is in first grade this year. The other day his teacher told me she had something she wanted to share with me. Immediately I thought, oh boy let’s hope it’s not too embarrassing. He’s a good kid, but he’s six years old so you know how that can go. She went on to tell me that they had been discussing heroes in class that morning. She decided to go around the room and ask each child who their hero is. Many of the kids named their firefighter father, police mom, nurse mom, veteran grandpa, and even some superheroes. When she got to my son she expected him to say my husband- after all, he is a firefighter. Instead he quickly replied, “My mom is my hero because she makes me feel safe and happy.” There I stood crying in front of my son’s teacher not because it made me sad, but because my son expressed what I have always hoped my children know. At the end of every day no matter how long or difficult the day was, I hope that my children feel loved. I hope they feel safe and I most certainly hope they feel happy.

After all that is what family is right? Family is both our armor and our cocoon from the rest of the world. Family is never perfect. Not ever. Family is messy, but it’s a beautiful kind of mess. Family is a big old mess of a morning. It is a one kid can’t find a shoe, dad ran over the garbage pail on his rush off to work, the dog stepped in the only mud puddle in the yard, and the other kid let him back in the house kind of morning. Family is mom getting her kids onto the school bus and coming back into the house to cry into her coffee about the morning she wishes she could do over. Family is the kids running off the bus in the afternoon with big smiles and hugs as if the morning is but only a blip in time on their memory, because it is.

Family is the ups and the downs. Family is dedicated to celebrating the ups and finding our way out from the downs. Family is full of surprises. Some are good and some are not. Family is sitting in a waiting room for six hours while your husband undergoes open heart surgery and praying to God that if this all works out you will most certainly be a better person, because you just can’t even begin to imagine your life without that man. Family is holding the hand of your dying Grandmother because she has done it for you from the time you were a little girl in pigtails until the day you had your very own child. Family is jumping for joy when your sister tells you she’s having a baby. It is crying when you hold that baby for the first time because somewhere in your memory bank you remember the day your parents brought her home as if it was yesterday. Family is looking at your children and feeling ever so grateful for your own parents because you realize that without them you wouldn’t be the mom you are today.

Family is sitting around the dinner table and listening to two little boys talk and talk and talk. It is catching a glimpse of my husband and promising him with my smile that we will catch up at some point. We will have time to talk to one another even if it’s as we start to fall asleep. It is listening to the stories that these little boys are telling us in the hopes that they will never stop talking to us. Family is a hug in the kitchen to remind us how important we are to each other and that talking isn’t always necessary, it’s the listening that counts. 

Family settles into the night with a story. It’s a tired mom trying to stay awake while her six-year-old reads the book because he’s so very proud. It might take longer but she knows it’s worth it. It’s a dad stressed about his day at work tomorrow but hiding it so that his nine-year-old can tell him all about the game he played at recess. Family is those two tired parents making time for one glass of wine and a five minute adult conversation. It’s a wife telling her husband not to stress and a husband telling her he’s sorry he has been so busy lately. 

Family is honest.Family shows up even when you tell them not to. Family drops everything. Family is all in. Always. With no questions asked. We figure it out, together. We fight loud but we love big. We get on each other’s nerves. We say sorry. We say I love you. We laugh. We cry. We celebrate. We grieve. We embrace the mess because somewhere within that mess lies the beauty of life. And at the end of the day no matter how good or bad it was we feel safe and happy because of the love of family. So jump in and embrace the beautiful mess. We will catch you if you fall. 

This piece was featured on the TODAY Parenting Team