It’s happening again.  Although this time I didn’t misplace something, unless you can misplace your thoughts.  I’d like to think these are random events; the effects of being a busy mommy, rushing through the day, but I’m afraid it’s a little more than that.  It’s mindlessness again.  When will I learn to be conscious of each sweet moment? 

You think I’m exaggerating?  Fine, I’ll confess my mindlessness.  First instance that comes to mind was my shower the other day.  I was almost finished washing up when I thought to myself, ‘gee, I don’t remember my soap smelling this way.’  I sniffed it again.  It sure smelled familiar.  Right.  That would be because it was my shampoo.  Yep, I washed my body with my shampoo.  Well, maybe it was just a moment. 

Fast forward a few hours.  I was in the kitchen searching for the one cup measuring cup.  It was getting a little frustrating.  I knew Joseph and I had just used it very recently and I’m pretty sure I washed it.  Where could it be?  Maybe I put it away?  Nope, there’s an empty box in its place in the cupboard.  Strange.  Oh my.  I threw the cup away and put the trash in the cupboard.  Is that normal? 

Tonight I was making pasta, multi-tasking as women are so wont to do.  I was stirring spaghetti sauce, talking on the phone, playing Bert to Joseph’s Mary Poppins, trying to console a fussy toddler.  Did I put salt in the pasta?  I’m pretty sure I did.  I’m racking my brain, frantically trying to replay my actions.  I just can’t remember. 

It’s not forgetfulness.  I promise.  I have an excellent memory (believe me, it’s excellent…I can recite every single line of Mary Poppins…after all, sometimes I’m called upon to play Bert, sometimes I’m Mary, sometimes I’m Jane or Michael…I have to know my lines or it really slows down my little mimic).  So what is this syndrome I have?  It’s mindlessness.  Pure and simple.  Somehow I manage to get things done, but half the time I can’t remember what all I’ve done.  Again, just like before, I’m looking at my children but not really seeing them.  I’m hearing my husband but not really listening.  How can I possibly pass so mindlessly through my days?  We’re only given so much time here on Earth.  Only so much time to soak in all the details.  Only so much time to notice each passing moment.  Our children grow so fast.  Our lives move so quickly.  I hope you’ll take a moment today to really stop and savor the moment.  And don’t choose an extraordinary moment.  Choose one of the ordinary moments…the moment when your toddler puts his hands up and says, “Mommy Time”; the moment when your preschooler says, “Watch this Mommy”; the moment when your husband kisses you as he walks in the door…because that’s what makes our lives so incredibly rich and these moments won’t last forever.

Today Joseph was supposed to be napping, but he wasn’t.  Instead he was just resting, listening to a Jim Weiss CD and reading some books.  After a bit of time, I went in to check on him.  He was on his little knees, staring up at the crucifix that hangs over the bed, praying to Jesus.  It was such a sweet, spontaneous prayer.  When he finished, he looked at me and said, “Now Jesus is happy.”  I replied, “Yes, He is.  Jesus is always so happy when His little Joseph talks to Him.”  Joseph nodded.  Encouraged, I went on.  “Jesus is the Good Shepherd and you are one of His sheep.  He knows His sheep and cares for them always.”  Joseph interrupted and asked, “Mommy, what are you talking about?”  Guess I’ll save that lesson for another day.

Music is a salve for our souls.  It comforts us, refreshes us, motivates us, cheers us.  It has the power to bring back a memory, to heal a wound, to soothe a soul.  Here’s a song that never fails to soothe my soul…

Me: Hi Joseph!  What are you doing?

Joseph:  Doing.

Me: I see that you’re doing something, but what are you doing?

Joseph: (very matter-of-factly)  Doing.

Me: Yes, but what are you doing?

Joseph: (getting a little impatient with me)  Doing.

Me:  I guess I don’t understand.  What do you mean “doing?”

Joseph:  I mean it.

Me:  (a little exasperated) What do you mean?

Joseph:  I mean it.

I read somewhere that boys need 6 hours of outdoor time a day.  I don’t remember where I read that, in fact, I’m not even sure what age that was referring to, but it’s stuck in my mind.  My boys don’t get quite that much time outside a day outside, but they do get outdoor time everyday.  After all, they’re boys…that’s what boys need.  They need wide open places to get all of their energy out. 

Now we live in the south.  The deep, deep south.  And it’s hot.  So very hot and humid.  And so I don’t always jump with joy when it’s time to take my boys outside.  Sometimes I actually dread it.  But still I put on their little tennis shoes, grab some water, and follow along behind two very excited, very energetic little boys.  I grab a chair or lay a quilt out on the ground for myself and I watch as they bounce along, eager to resume their play from the day before…sometimes it’s sidewalk art, sometimes it’s sand and water play, sometimes it’s sports, sometimes it’s playing on the swingset, sometimes it’s good old fashioned imagination fueled fun.  I can physically see the effect playing outside has on my boys.  I see it in their eyes, in their flushed little cheeks, in their exuberance.  It’s their opportunity to escape.  To be free.  To be hindered by nothing but their imagination.  It’s not to say that they don’t use their imaginations inside, but being outside is just different.  It just sets the imagination on fire.  I can see their little minds working differently when we’re outside.  Maybe it’s because there are so few toys outside that they’re forced to rely on their imaginations…and they do it beautifully. 

But here’s the funny thing.  It might not be as physical, but playing outside has a huge effect on me.  Yep, I said me.  See, I used to always take something productive outside with me.  I’d take a nonfiction book or the phone or some other little task that needed to be accomplished.  I’d use the outdoor time productively…because, well, because that’s what adults do…we use our time productively.  

Then one day I didn’t take anything.  I’m not sure what came over me.  I just wandered outside empty handed.  And I didn’t find a task to busy myself with.  Instead, I just sat on the quilt and watched the boys play.  Then when I realized they were happily playing, I laid down and watched the clouds for awhile.  Soon Joseph joined me and asked what I was doing.  He, too, stayed to watch the clouds for awhile.  Then William toddled over and joined us.  And in that moment I realized that being outdoors is my chance for escape, too.  When we’re outdoors I am free…free from ringing phones and incoming emails.  Free from all the millions of distractions that I find inside my home…free from the neverending list of things to do.  We live in a very fast paced environment, rushing all the time.  It feels good to have a moment to breathe.  To just be. 

So I know it’s hot…it’s the middle of the summer.  But the best advice I can offer (and the reason you might not be seeing many blogs this summer!) is to take your kids and go outside.  Pull out the baby pool, turn on the sprinkler, do whatever you have to do to make it bearable, but then just sit back and enjoy it.  If you’ve forgotten how, just watch your kids and follow their lead.  There’s a reason kids need lots of outdoor time…I think maybe we never outgrow that…we just sometimes need to be reminded of how relaxing it is to just be.

Sometimes it’s hard to really see our kids.  Sure we look at them each and every day, but that’s what makes it so hard to really see them.  We never notice the subtle changes.  We just keep trudging along, knowing in our heart that they’re growing and getting older, but not really seeing those little changes.  And then every so often, we’re offered a moment of clarity.  A moment when we suddenly look at them and notice, I mean really notice, how much they’ve grown, be it physically or mentally.

I had one of those moments the other day.  I looked at Joseph and suddenly realized how much he’s grown.  What happened to the pudgy little legs that he toddled around on for so long or the bald little head that I swore was never going to grow hair.  He’s growing so fast.  I’ve known that.  It just took me awhile to really see it.

Taken from Meg Meeker’s Boys Should Be Boys…

“She knows from the moment her son belts out his first wail that she exists to love him.  She is needed because he needs her.  He needs the nourishment, the security, and the love that she provides, which will not only keep him alive but also keep her knowing that she is needed.  So she will protect, adore, and nurture this tiny boy until he becomes a man, and then the ache will feel overwhelming.  As a man he will leave, and life as a mother will never be the same for her.  She will continue to love her son, but the connection will be reworked.  Not because she has changed but because one day, he will belong to another.

This knowledge did not exist before his birth.  But it presents itself the moment his mother sees him and as her maternal instinct draws her very close to her son.  That is the way mother-son relationships are meant to be.  From the moment she clings, she prepares herself ever so slowly for the eventual release.

This tension doesn’t exist with the birth of a daughter.  A daughter can stay connected with her mother forever; mothers and daughters have genetic, hormonal, and psychological bonds that cannot be broken.  She can become another’s, but her mother can still keep her.  They are female together in that bond, and they can stay connected even when life changes the circumstances around them.  But the tie a mother feels with her son is more fragile, more tenuous; he is different because he’s a man.  But for as long as he is a child, he is ours and we feel we must protect him.” 

With two little ones around our house, clinginess is no stranger.  There are days when these two little boys seem to want nothing more than to be held.  Breakfast is fast and easy; lunch is something I can make one-armed; dinner is nothing fancy.  I try to remember that the things on my to-do list are not urgent.  Yes, they feel urgent to me, but the world will not stop if I fail to check off each item.  I try to my best to keep it in perspective and to embrace each moment as it comes, but sometimes its hard. 

Today was the perfect example.  I have been trying to reorganize the kids’ room.  Not just reorganize.  No…the project has become much bigger.  I am trying to downsize.  Out with the old and unused in an effort to make room for the new.  There are bags and bags (and bags) of baby clothes and blankets and hats and booties.  Piles of toddler clothing and jackets and sweaters.  Some of it passed down to us, some of it gifts, some of it worn and broken in, some of it never touched.  I’ve been trying to be practical.  If it’s never been worn then it went into the “give it to someone who might actually use it” pile.  Surprisingly, I came up with quite a load to give away.  Accomplishment.  A little extra space.  Ah, some breathing room.  So today’s task seemed simple enough.  Sort the remaining clothes according to size, put them in vacuum seal bags, vacuum them shut, store them.  That’s it.  A 30 minute project.  Yet it literally took me all day to accomplish those few steps.  Nothing else on my list got checked off.  Why?  I had two little children who both refused a nap and instead spent the afternoon clinging. 

So when I sat down at the computer tonight and read Elizabeth’s blog, I felt her advice could not possibly have come at a better time.  As she tells a story of her clingy toddler, she passes on some advice she read.  Here’s her advice…

Embrace him. He is empty and unsure of your permanence, for whatever reason, and the more you resist, the more unsure he gets. The more unsure he gets, the more he will cling. Embrace him every time he wants you to, for as long as he wants you to. Don’t let go until he does. Eventually he will.

It’s true.  Everything with children is just a phase.  They will outgrow their clinginess.  They will outgrow their neediness.  And I will miss it.  Oh yes, someday I know I will miss the little arms wrapped tightly around my neck.  I’ll miss the little sticky hands reaching for me.  I’ll miss the cries that are only satisfied with a mommy hug.  So for now, I am going to do the only thing I can.  I’m going to set aside that to-do list and I’m going to embrace my children…clinginess and all.