The first, held my hand, gifting the confidence I needed for the adventure. The second, was the adventure that taught me how to embrace the ride. The third, was the laughter that became the soundtrack that reminds me of why I stepped onto the roller coaster to begin with, and makes me laugh at the comedy of my novice belief that confidence had anything at all to do with the adventure of parenting. Because the more I let go, throw my hands up, and yes, sometimes even scream, the more my eyes are opened to see that what a parent really needs can never be found in the false confidence of perceived control, but in the courage that comes from trusting your tiny passengers.  So at one of those turbulent parenting peaks or valleys, I came to the realization that we are all on the ride and never really the ones at the control panel and stopped being scared.  I found my courage, threw my hands up, and joined in the laugh track of my tiny co-riders I stood in line so long for, and finally started enjoying the greatest adventure of my life. Because, after all, the whole point of the ride is…well, the ride!

Being that our tinies are tortured with the truth of having two teachers attempting to raise them, we are admittedly known to try to disguise irrelevant lessons as table talk or even “fun”, making their sad, sad world look like an unintentional game of Junior Jeopardy because…well, because we are equal parts evil and nerdy I suppose. (I know. I need to find my off switch and quit my fact-pushing habit, or risk complete social isolation of both myself and my poor little scholastic victims.) So the other day the hubs (teaching torturer extraordinaire) was talking to our itty-bitty academics about the prefix “tri” and extended the discussion to examples. The kiddos were feeling accomplished as they presented us with the obligatory, “tri-angle”, “tri-cycle”, and so on, when the winning player chimed in with “try-ing”. With a chuckle of all-knowing wisdom I explained her inaccuracy, as “tri” is defined as “three” and this would become meaningless when paired with “ing”. Not surprisingly, deserving of the nickname “the-one-who-refuses-to-be-wrong”, justified her choice by stating, “Well, Mama is always TRYING to do too much by pretending she has THREE arms. So TRYING means use-ING THREE.” BAM! I quickly realized I’d lost this scholarly battle to the illogically logical streaming thoughts of my 6 year old and quickly changed the topic to princesses and superheroes. I learned my lesson.

My Outlook calendar is like a thousand piece puzzle carefully kept complete at all costs. I have, however, created my own challenge level for my puzzle of responsibilities by convincing myself of the mirage of an occasional opening (that doesn’t really exist) just to fill it once again with that 1,001st piece that really has nowhere to go. I really wish this was an effort at hyperbole. It is not. This is a literal piece. I can remember my starter puzzle, the one with little knobs to help you handle the pieces in this new game of mommyhood. No doubt, that life with my first little one was a balancing act, that required some adjustment. But when my second piece arrived, and I was faced with a puzzle not so easily solved, my life became far more of a juggling act. However, none of these starter sets quite prepared me for Level 3. Continue reading →

So I’ve noticed my mouth isn’t the only thing growing big with age. And while I could easily qualify as a personal trainer in how to justify this growing trend, my tiny Type-A (the eldest in my variety pack) finally decided to put my excuses on the bench and start running me in the right direction again, when she sweetly (note my virtual sarcasm) announced, “I’ll be your personal trainer Mama.” So I ignorantly agreed to the playful proposal of my compact coach, with visions of leisurely walks with Hallmark breaks for desperado dandelions. Thus, I was grossly unprepared for my bite-sized boot camp.

5:30 AM: Mere minutes past bedtime. The morning still dressed in the black of night.

Wait! Let’s replay the start of the training session that led up to this starting gate.

12:30 AM: “Bedtime” (note the quotes) Continue reading →