This is a good reminder to myself. While I still consider Rafa and Claire my babies, I am acutely aware that they are fast growing up. I have to admit there are days (or should I say many days! Hehe) where I wished that they would grow up sooner. But I know like all parents, when that time comes (yes, sooner than we think), I would long for them to be tiny and needy again.
'5 Ways To Let Them Be Little'
by: Simple As That Blog
The days of diaper changes and cradle cap have passed for us. No longer do I search in the dark of night for a pacifier, or gather Gerber puffs from the floor of my car. I’m sleeping more these days, and that’s a plus. There is something about the longing to hold my babies again that still gets me at times. I want so much to let them be little, while still enjoying them as they grow.
Our home is full of noise and of hustle. Their chatter, the sound of legos, of deep belly laughter, the sweet way my daughter sings to her baby dolls – these are the soundtracks I play. They’re beautiful, and though these sounds are a far cry from the noises of their toddler-hood, I cherish the melodies all the same.
THE SPACE TO BE LITTLE
As I watch my young children grow into bigger and wiser versions of the babies they once were, I am inspired to allow them the space to be little. I have long since put off the notion the house should look this way or that. I’ve decidedly accepted the loss of one too many broken dishes and learned to find acceptance that the carpet used to look a whole lot brighter.
I’ve chosen a better attitude about mistakes. Middle of the night accidents, picky eaters, and kids with emotions they are unable to control, these are things I’m okay with now. I’ve taken long, deep breaths when I wanted to yell. I have done the hard work of choosing a smile over a frown when the stairs become muddy (for the hundredth time this year). I have decided to gift them with childhood, with these precious years that go by all too quickly.
Because before I know it, they’ll be grown and gone, and that melody I love so much? It will be replaced with the absolute quiet of their absence.
Monday, March 13, 2017
Tuesday, March 7, 2017
Family 1st
My husband would always tease me that I am anti social. I would always choose to stay home instead of going out. Friends would know that I am an early bird - I'd like to start and end early. I don't like staying out late because I would get less sleep, which would mean having less energy to take on the kids the next day.
I would like to think that while I am an introvert, I am pretty friendly and sociable. As much as I want to go out and relax, I can't. The logistics of leaving the kids behind is something I don't want to think about. I feel uncomfortable leaving the kids with their yayas for too long. They're probably sick of me giving so many reminders before I leave. Hehe And while my mom or sisters will gladly stay with the kids for awhile, somehow I feel guilty to ask them for their time. And when I'm out, I constantly worry and think about them. I guess it's the wired in us mothers to feel that way. I don't regret anything though. I will cherish these moments, no matter how hard at times, because it will only be awhile that they need me.
'Yes, I Miss My Friends, But I Just Can't Do The 'Bar Scene' These Days'
by: Clint Edwards
I was texting a childhood friend. We were catching up, as we do every couple years. She’s a single mother living in a big city. She has a good job and one daughter. I live in a small rural town. I’m married with three children. Obviously, we’ve ended up in very different places. Somehow we got onto the topic of how often we socialize without our children.
I told her that I really didn’t. I work two jobs and any free time I have I spend with my kids. She mentioned to me that she tries to go out with friends (to bars or a concert) as much as possible. “I have a good life,” she said. “I make good money, and I have a good sitter. I try to make sure I have a balance, so that I can keep sane.”
I read that text and felt like such a loser. I hadn’t gone out with friends in, well, months? A year? Both of us were in our mid 30s, and it’s not that I don’t have friends. I do. They just seemed really far down on my priority list, and I wondered if they should be a bit higher. Should I be spending more time with my friends? (And less time with my family?)
This isn’t to say that either of us were doing anything wrong. From everything I can tell, my friend is a great parent. But at the same time, I couldn’t understand how she did it. How she found the time to juggle her daughter’s extracurricular activities, run a household, work a high-stakes job, and still manage to have an active social life.
But the more I thought about how I could manage to find time for my friends, and what that would look like for my family, the more I felt like I wasn’t really missing out. It was around this time that an article by Joelle Wisler came across my newsfeed, titled "I Cherish My Friendships, But I’d Rather Spend Time With My Family Than Anyone Else" where she discussed this very subject, listing out all the times that she will choose her family over brunch with friends or a girls’ vacation because she only has a short window of time when they will choose her first.
And I think to anyone who really values socializing, this all sounds very suffocating. But for me, as a father working 50-plus hours a week, it makes perfect sense. It isn’t uncommon for me to leave before the kids are up, and get home once they are in bed. It isn’t uncommon for me to be sent to some conference, or meeting, or whatever in another city, far from the people I love the most, where the only interactions I have with my family for four or five days are choppy phone conversations and grainy images through Skype.
Every time I travel for work, I sleep through the night which, I admit, is awesome. I make a couple new friends from different places whom I will probably never see again. I learn a few things, but most of all, I miss my family. I miss their snuggles. I miss holding their small hands. I miss kisses from my wife.
And I miss being there for her. I hate hearing about how overwhelmed she is caring for three small kids, not because I think she can’t handle it, but because I know how demanding our children can be, and I like being her partner. I like being able to help. I like being a father and husband, and I enjoy everything that goes with it, even the frustrating parts.
So much of this comes down to the fact that, as a working parent, I spend a lot of time away from my family trying to support them, and so when I get home, I want to feel like I’m doing more than simply bringing in a paycheck.
This isn’t to say that my kids don’t frustrate me. This isn’t to say that I don’t sometimes come home to half-naked kids and a frustrated wife and think about how peaceful it was at work. But when I’m at work, I think about my kids and smile. I long for them in my arms. I look forward to watching them play soccer or practice gymnastics. I think about how amazing it feels to help my daughter figure out a math problem.
I have this deep longing to help them become something special. And I feel a deep connection to my wife that has evolved over the years from one of romance to one of partnership. It’s not that we don’t still have romance — we do. But we have grown to work well as a team. I get her, and she gets me, and together we are ready to take on any stain, sticky face, or poopy butt. I love her company more than I love the company of anyone else. And I feel very at peace when we are together.
Just last week, we watched Trolls as a family, and with each song, everyone but my too-cool-tween son had a dance party in the living room. My youngest shook her pigtails and stomped her feet, while my middle daughter pulled some seriously impressive ballerina moves. My wife and I bumped hips, and my son looked at it all with a red-faced, dimpled grin. It was better than any other dance party or concert I’ve ever been to.
Honestly, it’s hard to give that up.
Furthermore, it’s hard to spend so much time away, and then spend more time socializing with others, when all you really want to do is spend time with your wife and kids. I don’t think that makes me boring or uncool at all. I think it means I’m really digging this stage of my children’s lives, and I know that it will end sooner than I’d like.
Like Joelle said in her article, “So I’m sorry to anyone out there if I miss some stuff. I will probably miss a lot of stuff. You see, I only have this short amount of time to choose these little people because soon they aren’t going to choose me. I’m really going to try not to miss a single moment of it.”
I feel exactly the same.
I would like to think that while I am an introvert, I am pretty friendly and sociable. As much as I want to go out and relax, I can't. The logistics of leaving the kids behind is something I don't want to think about. I feel uncomfortable leaving the kids with their yayas for too long. They're probably sick of me giving so many reminders before I leave. Hehe And while my mom or sisters will gladly stay with the kids for awhile, somehow I feel guilty to ask them for their time. And when I'm out, I constantly worry and think about them. I guess it's the wired in us mothers to feel that way. I don't regret anything though. I will cherish these moments, no matter how hard at times, because it will only be awhile that they need me.
'Yes, I Miss My Friends, But I Just Can't Do The 'Bar Scene' These Days'
by: Clint Edwards
I was texting a childhood friend. We were catching up, as we do every couple years. She’s a single mother living in a big city. She has a good job and one daughter. I live in a small rural town. I’m married with three children. Obviously, we’ve ended up in very different places. Somehow we got onto the topic of how often we socialize without our children.
I told her that I really didn’t. I work two jobs and any free time I have I spend with my kids. She mentioned to me that she tries to go out with friends (to bars or a concert) as much as possible. “I have a good life,” she said. “I make good money, and I have a good sitter. I try to make sure I have a balance, so that I can keep sane.”
I read that text and felt like such a loser. I hadn’t gone out with friends in, well, months? A year? Both of us were in our mid 30s, and it’s not that I don’t have friends. I do. They just seemed really far down on my priority list, and I wondered if they should be a bit higher. Should I be spending more time with my friends? (And less time with my family?)
This isn’t to say that either of us were doing anything wrong. From everything I can tell, my friend is a great parent. But at the same time, I couldn’t understand how she did it. How she found the time to juggle her daughter’s extracurricular activities, run a household, work a high-stakes job, and still manage to have an active social life.
But the more I thought about how I could manage to find time for my friends, and what that would look like for my family, the more I felt like I wasn’t really missing out. It was around this time that an article by Joelle Wisler came across my newsfeed, titled "I Cherish My Friendships, But I’d Rather Spend Time With My Family Than Anyone Else" where she discussed this very subject, listing out all the times that she will choose her family over brunch with friends or a girls’ vacation because she only has a short window of time when they will choose her first.
And I think to anyone who really values socializing, this all sounds very suffocating. But for me, as a father working 50-plus hours a week, it makes perfect sense. It isn’t uncommon for me to leave before the kids are up, and get home once they are in bed. It isn’t uncommon for me to be sent to some conference, or meeting, or whatever in another city, far from the people I love the most, where the only interactions I have with my family for four or five days are choppy phone conversations and grainy images through Skype.
Every time I travel for work, I sleep through the night which, I admit, is awesome. I make a couple new friends from different places whom I will probably never see again. I learn a few things, but most of all, I miss my family. I miss their snuggles. I miss holding their small hands. I miss kisses from my wife.
And I miss being there for her. I hate hearing about how overwhelmed she is caring for three small kids, not because I think she can’t handle it, but because I know how demanding our children can be, and I like being her partner. I like being able to help. I like being a father and husband, and I enjoy everything that goes with it, even the frustrating parts.
So much of this comes down to the fact that, as a working parent, I spend a lot of time away from my family trying to support them, and so when I get home, I want to feel like I’m doing more than simply bringing in a paycheck.
This isn’t to say that my kids don’t frustrate me. This isn’t to say that I don’t sometimes come home to half-naked kids and a frustrated wife and think about how peaceful it was at work. But when I’m at work, I think about my kids and smile. I long for them in my arms. I look forward to watching them play soccer or practice gymnastics. I think about how amazing it feels to help my daughter figure out a math problem.
I have this deep longing to help them become something special. And I feel a deep connection to my wife that has evolved over the years from one of romance to one of partnership. It’s not that we don’t still have romance — we do. But we have grown to work well as a team. I get her, and she gets me, and together we are ready to take on any stain, sticky face, or poopy butt. I love her company more than I love the company of anyone else. And I feel very at peace when we are together.
Just last week, we watched Trolls as a family, and with each song, everyone but my too-cool-tween son had a dance party in the living room. My youngest shook her pigtails and stomped her feet, while my middle daughter pulled some seriously impressive ballerina moves. My wife and I bumped hips, and my son looked at it all with a red-faced, dimpled grin. It was better than any other dance party or concert I’ve ever been to.
Honestly, it’s hard to give that up.
Furthermore, it’s hard to spend so much time away, and then spend more time socializing with others, when all you really want to do is spend time with your wife and kids. I don’t think that makes me boring or uncool at all. I think it means I’m really digging this stage of my children’s lives, and I know that it will end sooner than I’d like.
Like Joelle said in her article, “So I’m sorry to anyone out there if I miss some stuff. I will probably miss a lot of stuff. You see, I only have this short amount of time to choose these little people because soon they aren’t going to choose me. I’m really going to try not to miss a single moment of it.”
I feel exactly the same.
Friday, March 3, 2017
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