Update

One funny side effect of going to school while my children do is the shared experience itself.  I no longer casually say, "I know you don't want to roll out of bed, get your rear in gear anyway!"  I now grumble along side them while we elbow each other in our fight for bathroom mirror prep time.  We're all in this together.

  Funny how diving into a shared experience can give a more insight into moments I used to pass judgment on.  Of course it makes sense- I'm living through similar experiences they face day in and day out.  I no longer chide about the dragging feet and forlorn faces on Monday mornings- I sympathize.  Yet, I am not as understanding about bad grades as I once was- I've been reminded of the need for hard work and I want to help my kids create great habits involving preparation and accomplishment.  If I can do it- they certainly can too.  My mantra of, "Turn OFF that stinkin' TV!," is heard more regularly now that I know what they are putting off in stall tactics.

  Over time, I will be curious to see what their memories of the time "Mom went back to school" bring about.  And there are days that I wonder if I will remember much of what currently feels like a foggy blur as I try to fit it all in and get it done.  My husband's parents have had recent serious health issues.  This has been effective in reminding me to: breathe, slow down, and remember what's important.  In the midst of the schedules, homework, and chaos I'm forced to face my own limitations and concede that when giving it your all- let my best be good enough.  If I am to succeed at this thing called school- then I must remember that the best education is within the school of LIFE.  At this stage in my life, the process of receiving a formal education must somehow blend with my, my husbands, and my children's lives- and not take center stage.  It is very sweet to witness how they do champion my efforts and pull together to allow me time to work.  It makes our play time that much more cherished.

So far, so good...albeit hectic and without much down time.  I know this too shall pass and soon it will be time to graduate- for my children and for me.  I've never been one to wish time or seasons of life away or to cling to certain ages.  I've sincerely tried to embrace each moment as it's lived, knowing it will only come my way once.  I think this is true for this unique time in my (though it's actually "our," since lives are entwined) life as well.

  Even with the end of the term nearing and finals breathing down my neck, I was blessed this afternoon to be able to visit my mother-in-law in the hospital, visit my oldest at his work, take a quick snuggly nap with my youngest, attend a son's lacrosse game, take two other sons shopping, treat one daughter to a big bag of m&m's for cleaning the house, and look through my jewelry with my oldest daughter for her formal dance tomorrow night.  I did get to give my husband a hug and kiss on the sideline at the game and I look forward to catching up on his day when he comes home from caring for his father.

  Life continues on while increasing in speed.  I find it a comfort to see my University's motto etched into the face of many a cornerstone around campus, reminding me: Carpe Diem!

Creative Spaces

  Up here in my little wooden room I have a view on the "goings on" in my yard.  It might not be the hustle and bustle of a New York City street that parades under my window but I'm very much at peace with that.

  This was a hard earned view.  When we first moved in to our house eight years ago, this room was "my space."  I was thrilled to be able to set up a creative haven in the very room I used to sleep in while visiting my grandparents as a young girl.  The whole full-circle thing added a cool vibe to the room that was already unique in design.  And better yet...it was to be mine...all mine.  This lasted until sibling rivalry, cramped quarters, and a son's desires for a space to be "his...all his" moved me to the open landing at the top of the stairs.  Beautiful white vases chock full of paint brushes, artist pads, and sharpie markers that once were confined behind a coded lock now beckoned the creativity of all who passed by...probably even the visiting neighborhood kids.  It appeared no-one could resist the call.  It was only a matter of time until a play room was needed for the kids and I headed for the first floor to share an office space with my husband, which was wonderful in theory not so much in reality.  That freshly painted, eclectically decorated space was to exist as an artists den for a nano-second anyway.  The son who needed his own space apparently needed more than a hallway to separate him from the clattering of youngsters and headed to the first floor to kick off his teenage independence from early bedtimes, night-time stories, and little kid stuff.  So, I was back to the second floor and life in full swing.  I don't even think I unpacked fully, just kind of kept dumping more on the surfaces until the coolest thing upstairs was the obstacle course comprised of Mom's junk, bins of Lego's, flowy dress-up costumes, Nerf swords, and boxes of papers that found a home there each time company was coming.

  When we decided it was time to actually finish the drywall upstairs I was like a restless nomad, wandering until, against better judgement, I moved my beloved articles to the laundry room in the basement.  Yes, these inspirational novels, paints, sketchpads, journals, and pictures which once whispered creative sweet-nothings to me now rebelled in silence covered in one layer of dust, a hint of cobwebs and a fine sheen of dryer lint.

  Funny how life brings out a simple truth that less is best.  I learned to create at the kitchen table and journal in bed before falling asleep, or scrawl in whichever half-used spiral notebook was closest at hand .  My Grandmother, who lived in this very house had a saying that brings it all home, "It is what it is."  True that.  I learned this truth in time to witness my oldest son grow up and follow his heart to yet another space that would be his...all his; an apartment in a neighboring town.  I'm glad we could give him the space he needed while it was needed.  My love of stringing words together doesn't need it's own space -- though it's GREATLY appreciated.  And truth be told, I can doodle on a t.v. tray if need be. 

  The night our eldest moved out, his first-floor room was occupied by the second eldest who had been rooming in this wooden space I am writing from.  Though I had to kick his roommates out to get this space I am BACK!!  I'm now allowing those roomies; two stuffed bears, a glassy eyed buck, a turkey in full flight, a fluffy fox-squirrel, and a beady-eyed black squirrel wander like nomads.  And here's some good news- I've only developed a SLIGHT eye twitch since the eldest daughter casually sized up my space and dropped several non-subtle hints about the unfairness in which her brothers had been able to have their own rooms and she was sharing with two sisters. 

twitch...twitch...twitch 

Mindful Monday

Mindfulness...the word calls to me.  The meaning sings to my soul.  I'm not even sure what it means....fully.  But, I'm on the path to discovering how it will set me free yet keep me grounded at the same time.  I picture it to mean living in the moment, breathing in the possibilities that exist if you can just SEE them right before your clouded eyes.


  Funny how in my mind I frequent the question of "What would I get if I were to ever get a tattoo?"  Interesting...yet not so funny, is that I've considered the word MINDFUL on several occasions.  I think it'd be a great reminder to not let life pass by without marinating in the moment.  To really look at the little people calling, "Mom..Mama... Mommy... Mother... Moooom..." whilst tapping me on the arm as I'm trying to get dinner ready...ok- fine, checking my phone would be more accurate.  I've had the best days when I actually get down on my knees and look in those eyes.  Sometimes it takes them so much by surprise they forget what they were tapping me for in the first place.  I think they just like to say Mommommommommommommom til it's a rhythm in their head and doesn't even sound like a name- when they add the poke or tap that is their contribution to the world of interpretive dance.  It could mean, "I want a cookie, can I color my face with a marker, will you help me with my homework, where is my squirrel trap, can I go to Emma's, why are you laughing, can Brett come over, are you crying, did you know the dog is eating my cookie...can I have another one?"

  I believe being mindful is also about staying in communication with the gentle guiding that leads us throughout our day.  If we can do this we will have accomplished a greater purpose- perhaps followed an intuition that told us to compliment the woman in the gym who wears the Wonder Woman tank and has been completing her laps in record time.  (Yes, I pay attention.) Or maybe it's listening to that soft urging to call my sister and ask how she's been.  Maybe it's to throw the concept of being Mindful out to you- so that you won't miss out on what this day has to offer with all it's surprises and wistful dreams.  We can be mindful together...as long as it's with the understanding I called the tattoo first!

  I'd love to hear what being Mindful means to you- feel free to leave a comment.  You can even picture that you're tracing a note with your finger on my wintry salt-crusted van...if it's longer than the average "wash me" you may want to pretend I've left a scroll of paper  with a pencil dangling from a twine cord for you to leave me a note...  if you have any desire to write on your face with marker- I'll even loan you the word Mindful--though just for today- however, if you should choose to do this...please post a picture as well.