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Written by natalie
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Thursday, 13 May 2010 |
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Yesterday it snowed and that moisture which turned into a drizzly cold rain mid-afternoon flooded our backyard and seeped into our basement through a crack in the foundation.
Today, it is 55 degrees and sunny. The 3 inches of standing water that were in my backyard yesterday have soaked into the ground and now it is a muddy, blustery, but warm playland for my children.
They went outside this afternoon wearing three pairs of shoes. Fifteen minutes later I saw six shoes abandoned by the back door, the soles utterly covered in a clayish mud. Socks came off shortly thereafter and their tiny footprints zip back and forth across the yard now, muddy representation of the chaos that seems to always be present when little boys play.
Their socks are now being used to transport sand from the sandbox across the yard and into sand buckets they have stacked against the retaining wall. And, for the last hour, my children have taken turns coming inside with announcements of "I have to go to the bathroom" when really, and I know this, they are filling small buckets with water on every trip inside. They are mixing and pouring and splashing mud everywhere and they are silly enough to think I do now know.
I know. But I love it.
My oldest is helping the youngest. My middle son is carrying his buckets and pulling gently his brother's behind him. Big buckets full of heavy sand and water are following strong and dirty feet across a soggy yard. Strong and dirty sons are pulling one another on this magical obstacle course they have created and, as a team, they are working to keep their adventures secret. They plot together and leave me out. But I love it.
My yard is a mess of footprints and sand mixed with clay and mud and small patches of snow. My heart is full with the great joy that springs up when a mother observes her sweet sons playing in harmony. The chaos will always be there. May the harmony remain to balance it forever.
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Written by natalie
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Monday, 10 May 2010 |
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I celebrated my first Mother's Day two weeks before my firstborn made his arrival into this world. My husband, insistant that I was already a wonderful mother, having housed his unborn child for 8.5 months in my womb, took me to a romantic dinner on St. Paul's Grand Avenue. The food was amazing, ambiance perfect, and I felt like a mom, for the first time ever.
Two weeks later, of course, "mom" took on a new meaning as I began to care for and love on the child I was seeing, but not feeling, for the first time.
Since that time I have had 5 Mother's Days including the time my kids tried sushi for the first time. Every single time I have been greeted by breakfast and love. Yesterday, no different, my sons snuck downstairs to wake me up (I am ALWAYS allowed to sleep in on Mother's Day!) and showered me with love and homemade cards. My almost-six-year-old's said "I like you. You like me" which was just about the cutest thing he has ever written by himself. Because, you know, love is mandatory between mothers and their sons, but "like" is earned. I like you too, sweet boy, quite a lot.
My husband made his mom's Swedish Pancakes and we spent the-most-low-key-day-ever playing outside, going on a walk and curling up on the floor of the playroom to watch Bedtime Stories. Perfect, my day was, just perfect.
Tonight we will trek across town to my Mother's home where she and my Grandmother will prepare an amazing dinner and I will celebrate the Mom that I love dearly and most of all really like.
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Written by natalie
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Wednesday, 21 April 2010 |
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There are so many ways to express love. Books have been written and read on love languages and the ways we communicate the gift of love.
It really is simple though. For me, love looks like this.
Thank you, sweet sons, for your half hour efforts of picking Mommy flowers. They mean the world to me.
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Written by natalie
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Tuesday, 13 April 2010 |
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You can head over to www.ungrind.org to check out my latest article "The Weariness Remedy."
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