THAT Mom

 

For nearly six years I lived in the land of tending to a single child. As with most things in life, caring for an only child has lots of upsides. It also holds a handful of unique challenges that I’ll save for another day. 

To be honest, I found the lack of chaos that just one child brought to suit my Type A tendencies quite well. I would hear friends lament about mounds of laundry and driving off to preschool with their reheated coffee on the top of the car and frankly, I would stand there in both wonderment and relief that my life had not come to that.

It wasn’t judgement as much as it was proverbial head-scratching, really. It seemed to me at the time that if my harried friends would just take the twenty minutes on Sunday evening after their kids were in bed to schedule out their weeks with a bit more discipline, they too could have fresh vegetarian fare on the table at six and laundry folded and put away by Tuesday evening.

Hmmm…

On June 18th, 2009 that all changed in the Stone household. I’ve eaten a very large portion of crow which has felt especially disgusting to the girl who loathes ingesting any form of bird. Thankfully as an introvert I only thought all those things…although I know that’s a lousy excuse when it comes right down to it. How a six pound being can catapult you into a state of chaos which somehow feels sweet and horribly irritating all at the same time is still beyond me, but here I stand.

I am now that mom! 

 Since Hailey arrived, I’ve been known to…

Remember that there were darks in the washer four days later (and three days too late to avoid a second wash due to their now musty condition)

Graft hair drying into the rhythm of my Sunday morning routine as something special and set apart from the rest of my week

Leave my inbox smeared across the loft for a week at a time believing that tomorrow I will get to the bottom of it

Pay my older and no longer only child ten cents to clean our toilet bowls that go surprisingly downhill in a relatively short amount of time

Drive around town in a minivan littered with relatively small yet still annoyingly present levels of pistachio shells, random Tupperware lids, sand, weathered canvass shopping bags, leaves, one baby sock and day-old coffee in a travel mug (that I might even take a drink of if push comes to shove)

Go to a well baby check up only to find out that my not-so-well baby is sporting a double ear infection unbeknownst to me

Rationalize that hula-hooping really is a good form of excercise and that it might even be able to take the place of that swim I missed the day before

Unexpectedly find big H to have superb climbing skills by way of a kind and concerned gentleman approaching me with the simple question of whether I was actually okay with her present perch

While you might not believe me at this point, on most days I still find more order than not (I can’t help myself). I’d like to think that Hailey’s arrival on the scene has broadened me a bit. I get it – I get that mom. And her life is surprisingly rich. 

 

 

Good Enough

“…in order to flourish, children don’t need the best of everything. Instead they simply need what is good enough. This may include good enough (but dull) homework assignments, good enough (but a little crabby or uninspired) teachers, good enough (although insect-infested and humid) summer camps, and good enough (although bossy and shallow) friends. Consider that good enough can often be best for your child, because when life is mostly ordinary and just occasionally extraordinary, your child won’t end up with expectations of herself and those around her that can’t  be met on this worldly plane.”

 Wendy Mogel, Ph.D. in The Blessing of a Skinned Knee

Thoughts anyone? I’d love to hear from friends and lurkers alike

 

 

A Jones Family Visit

 Our New Year began with a long-awaited Jones family visit. We had a great time together and I realized more than ever how thankful I am for lasting friendship. Since we live in different states (I won’t get into whose state is better…except I will say that mine does have an ocean and stays a lot warmer this time of year) we get the opportunity to live in each other’s quarters from time to time. 

We’ve now known each other for eighteen years. That’s a fair amount of life, really. This season, it seems from self-observation, involves less showering (on the part of the adults), much more meal preparation, fragmented conversations that somehow still involve depth, head colds, band aids, gaining a deep appreciation for minivans and their capacity for multiple car seats, bulb syringes, Two Buck Chuck, diapers and large amounts of enthusiasm over a hostess gift of a sound machine (for Hailey’s room). 

Here’s a few pictures highlighting the ventures that our now sand-filled minivan took us on.

We took the kids to the Carp bluffs where they waved at the Surfliner train, wandered the trails, trekked down to the beach and watched the seals and their pups play on the shoreline.

Hannah was given the film Walking on Water for Christmas this year from her good buddy, Austin. She is now completely convinced that she’ll be surfing by next year. Aspen Jones concurs.

Little Hailey Elizabeth got a good dose of the beach this week. She also cut her first tooth and continued weathering her first cold (enter bulb syringe comment above). Still, she seemed to have lots of fun being held by Janna, riding around in the Ergo Baby and watching the big kids do their big kid things. 

 

O Holy Night

HIGHLIGHTS FROM THE SEASON

Attending an event for Hands and Feet Project where our family along with thirty others had the chance to connect with Haitian orphans by way of penning letters and praying in hopes of encouraging them at Christmastime

Receiving a grown up nativity scene from my mom

Watching Hannah take her role in her Christmas program (all four words) VERY seriously … and the angels sang!

Listening to Christmas music

Pivoting my way to a team victory (yes, beating Phil’s team) in our annual oatmeal bagging race for Project Understanding. My days as a point guard were worthwhile afterall.

Receiving Christmas cards and letters from all over the world

Witnessing Hannah leap down the stairs both thrilled and taken aback with a racecar tangled in her hair (Christmas gift for…oh I mean from Papa)

Phil’s blessing before our Christmas meal

Vietnamese food and fellowship with good friends on Christmas Eve while the babes slept

Ultimately relaxing in the fact that creating meaningful traditions take time. Relaxing in the knowledge that we serve a God who requires much of us and extends extraordinary grace through the process.  Desiring to leave behind the unnecessary chaos and excesses surrounding this season and adding meaningful experiences in their place. Understanding more than ever the basic needs that so many go without each day. Wanting to make a difference. Hoping that our family can.  

 

 

Fall

YOU KNOW IT IS DECEMBER IN CALIFORNIA WHEN…

Three-fourths of your family members have head colds

It is seventy degrees outside

Your daughter sees the fall leaves floating to the ground and decides that it’s a great idea to go rake them up… with our brooms

And so you do

 

Flexibility

Flexibility: Willing or disposed to yield; pliable

 While I feel little need to literally suck on my toes, it does seem as though added pliability would serve my soul well during this chapter of my life.

 

A New Tradition

Halloween is never going to go down as this family’s favorite holiday. I’d say that Hannah remains marginally excited about it. When you live in a house that doesn’t allow much candy consumption and you’re a kid whose allergic to dairy (which means you can’t have two-thirds of the Halloween candy anyway) then it’s just not that big of a deal. Still, the fact remains that every year Hannah, dressed up as something other than herself, gathers a fair amount of candy come October 31st. We’re then left wondering what to do with it.

Last year, she decided all on her own to package wads of candy up in individually decorated brown bags and give miniature Snickers, Dots and the likes as Christmas presents to all of the adults who attended our festivities. They were each kind enough to accept her gift and in so doing helped lower our odds of tooth decay.

Well, this year Nana delivered a great conduit  for October’s stash. She purchased a gingerbread house kit and came over this week to construct it. Collectively, we decided that trick-or-treat candy would work perfectly for decorating this hypothetically edible abode. 

These two worked for two and a half hours on this project. It turns out that this dwelling actually has residents! Over twenty gummy bears are now calling this place home.

Boo was on hand too … between napping and milk-drinking, that is. We all laughed thinking about next year and that we’ll have a little toddler to contend with during construction.   

Nana, a perfectionist by nature, was incredibly gracious in encouraging Hannah to be completely…well…Hannah throughout the entire construction process. When I took the kindergartener to school, Nana stayed on and put some final touches on the house…including a chimney constructed out of Frosted Mini Wheats.

Here’s the finished product! Nana and I carefully transferred the completed house upstairs and onto Hannah’s dresser for the holiday season. A very fun day and likely a tradition for years to come.

 

 

Two Front Teeth

In my last post I noted how thankful I was that my big girl was feeling better after a nasty flu bug. She was well enough to take a walk on the bluffs Thanksgiving Day. While I sprayed Oust and washed hands like the best of moms, I did make one classic blunder.

As we headed out to hike I realized that I hadn’t packed her Klean Kanteen. Knowing hydration was never more important to keep this girl moving, I handed mine over (those who know me well know that this is no small thing). I will save the intricacies of my relationship with my water bottle for another day.  

Come Friday we were all in the kitchen chatting when I reached for my water bottle and took a big drink. The strange thing was that it had a really sweet taste on the spout…like tangerine…like the tangerine that Hannah had devoured on her hike while drinking my water bottle the day before! Somehow the kanteen made it into the house but did not take a ride through the dishwasher. Exactly two days later my throat started to feel a bit funny. I clocked out for three solid days as I contended with flu symptoms strikingly similar to Hannah’s.

So while not much has changed here this past week, I did want to update with a couple of fun pictures of the girls.

Hannah spent part of her flu downtime wiggling, then twisting and finally yanking her second top tooth out. She’s now sporting the perfect look for the season and has been caught singing the fitting holiday tune a time or two.

 

While we’re giving the food thing a bit of a break, Hailey has been enjoying sitting in her high chair with toys these days. She seemed glad to have Mommy back in the swing today and not just acting as her drop-in feeding station every three hours.

 

 

Thanksgiving

This Thanksgiving, we opted to keep things simple. That decision was only further confirmed by way of a virus (we will never know which one) that left Hannah in bed for the better part of her fall break this past week. We’re certainly thankful that she’s now on the mend. What follows are a few of the other things that we find ourselves thankful for this day.

Since Hailey is of age I decided that Thanksgiving Day would be a fun day to get things started in the food category. Following her first nap, we placed Hailey in the high chair while Hannah eagerly strapped a bib on her little sister. There, the three of us presented her with a delicious bowl of rice cereal. Based on how things went (puzzled looks followed by lots of gagging) I’m guessing that Hailey is most thankful that Mommy came to her senses fairly quickly, cleared the rehydrated flakes from her tray and gave her a big drink of milk. I suppose we’ll try that one again later.

 

 I’m thankful for Phil. Today he played with both girls bright and early so that I could sleep in. He initiated a U-2 dance party in our living room following lunch which always lifts spirits in our house. He carried little Hailey on the hike we took at the bluffs. And he gladly grilled salmon for tonight’s dinner…never once lamenting the absence of a turkey on our table this evening.

 

 I’m thankful that my big girl is feeling better. It’s always so sad when your kids are sick. For some reason Hannah gets especially polite when she’s most ill, which somehow makes the whole situation feel that much more pathetic. While we certainly had some sweet moments between my perpetual hand washing and Ousting spray downs, I’m so glad to be through that illness. While today I could tell that she’s still not quite herself, I was so thankful that she had enough energy to walk the bluffs and explore the beach on this incredibly beautiful day.

When I asked Hannah what she was most thankful for today, she told me that she was most thankful for her sister.

 I’m thankful for my mom. There are so many reasons why I’m thankful for her. But here’s the deal…if I actually write any of them here I will embarrass her to no end – thus defeating the purpose of trying to honor her. So, I will just simply say that I couldn’t have asked for a better mom. She’s truly amazing.

At one point on our walk, Hannah stopped me and pointed out the sparkling pathway that had formed on the water. She supposed that it would be an appropriate pathway for a chrysalis to travel on a stick – and that when it reached the end it would turn into a butterfly. As we continued walking, we then went on to talk about heaven and what an incredible journey it will be to travel there someday…and that maybe our journey will look something like that image we’d seen on the water. 

Holidays in our house inevitably remind us of the painful absence of those we loved and lost too soon. And yet, it would be difficult at this point to miss the hope that new life has brought to us…both now and forever. 

 

Grace Hannah

Two weeks ago today, Grace Hannah the hamster died. She’d just celebrated her 2nd birthday where she enjoyed munching on cabbage while watching a lively game of pin the tail on the hamster. While I’m not one to liken animal deaths to those of humans, I will say that the whole experience caused me to consider things much more deeply than I expected.

We realized death was imminent on Saturday morning when we went to get Grace and her cage out of the bathtub to begin her day in Hannah’s room. In case you’re wondering why the hamster was housed in the bathtub, allow me a moment to explain. Grace was the kind of girl who really enjoyed gathering up all of her belongings and storing them in her wheel each night. That was her preference. She’d then run incessantly while her food kibbles flew all over the place. It created quite a mess and a raucous, neither of which proved terribly conducive to a six year-old sleeping. Thus the tub.

When we placed her cage in Hannah’s room, her protected demeanor said it all. She was leaving soon. When we reached in to check things out, her little body was much cooler than usual. Her breathing was slow and her little blue eyes were closed. We explained to Hannah that Grace’s life was coming to an end. We told her we weren’t sure how much longer she had, but that most likely this would be Grace’s last day with us.

There were lots of tears in the hours that ensued. Sweet Hannah offered little Grace one last grape thinking that it would provide her with food and water all in one. From time to time, Grace would lift her weakened head and try to take a nibble, but ultimately just curled back up.

At one point Hannah asked if she’d ever get to see Grace’s eyes opened again. I explained that most likely she’d keep them shut. That news felt especially devastating. In that moment I realized the intimacy of the relationship these two had shared. Countless times, the bouncing child and the frisky rodent had settled in just long enough to look into each other’s eyes. And when they did, something very special happened. Naturally, in Grace’s most vulnerable moment nothing felt more important to Hannah than to be able to look into her pet’s little eyes and tell her that she’d be okay. But Grace was fading away.

I assured her that although her eyes were shut, Grace could certainly hear Hannah’s voice. Through streams of tears, Hannah talked in the quietest of voices to her fragile friend. She told her that she loved her and that she was going to be okay.

That night, Grace was still breathing. We decided that she’d sleep in Hannah’s room, as we knew that on this night she would be quiet. At 5:30 the following morning, Hannah came into our room and told us that Grace was dead. She had gotten her out that morning and held her one last time. She prepared a little box for her … one that had housed her birthday cabbage from the prior week. Hannah lined the bottom of the box with cotton balls and wrote I love you Grace in green crayon on the inside of the lid. She painted a rock and collected some treasures from her treasure chest. We then took her to GJ’s rose garden to bury her.

As Phil and I reflected on this experience, I was immediately reminded of a technique he uses when he paints. Prior to creating any real form to a picture, he takes a broad brush stroke over the entire canvas. It’s a thin layer and seemingly inconsequential. Yet ultimately it sets the foundation for the painting.

I suppose that’s what took place in our home two weekends ago. Losing Grace was Hannah’s first real taste of death. It was her broad brush-stroked foundation, have you. And there, Phil and I were given the opportunity to walk our child graciously through life’s most difficult reality – death. 

With loss comes tears, recollection of the good times (we spent some time writing down all of our fun memories with Grace), denial (at one point she was quite positive that Grace’s body was getting warmer and that she’d be alright afterall), more tears, a longing for the suffering to end (many moments Hannah stood by Grace’s cage saying over and over again, poor poor Grace) and a very literal ache in your heart (she told me that her heart felt like it broke in half).  

I created a Shutterfly picture book for Hannah. In it I wrote a little story about her and Grace and their many adventures together. When it arrived I placed it on Hannah’s bed for her to discover. I sat with her as she read it. At moments she laughed and in the end, she fought back her tears.

This past week I was cutting up an apple and Hannah ran over. She swooped up the core and headed towards her room. But then she caught herself. She was going to give it to Grace … but Grace was no longer there.

She’s talked about wanting to get a new hamster. We’re giving it a little time. Her kindergarten teacher told me that Hannah shared with her that she’s dreaming of a new little friend … maybe for her half-birthday. She told her that she’s planning on naming the hamster Chocolate Chip. 

What’s remarkable about little ones is that their hope seems to stay in tact. Hannah felt Grace’s loss deeply. Yet she’s also able to see what lies beyond this place of pain. Apparently, we have much to learn from each other.

Grace was a very special friend. We’re so thankful for the many memories of this apricot-colored, fast-running, frequent bathing, cheek-stuffing, U-2 loving, pocket-riding, apple dancing girl.

…excerpt from Hannah’s memory book of Grace