You are currently browsing the category archive for the ‘Gratitude’ category.

I’ve been at odds with myself today, with Pride at the center. Pride—the chief cause of dissatisfaction. Pride—the shiny name for hubris, the cobblestones on the road of perfectionism. Pride—that which leads away from everything good.

I do not mean the type of “pride” that suggests being grateful or joyful for what life brings, or even being pleased in pleasing one’s family or friends, or the delight in a job well done for the effort we put in.

I mean the kind of pride that makes one inert and flat-feeling. It is a pride which squishes, by making us think we have the ability to do everything and perfectly and without experiencing consequences from thinking so. It is that pride which seeks constant recognition of itself.

In searching myself for my faults this past year, I find pride to be central…I have only just begun to study it and turn it around and round.

So Readers, I ask you: What is the nature of Pride? Does it have a use, and if so, what? Are there good types of pride, as distinct from bad types?

To gather true joy seems to require a state of gratitude…gratitude, for both the good and bad experiences which make us who we are, in turn requires a feeling of humility. Any room for pride, readers?

With my mom not feeling well this morning and unable to watch Katie and Eric, I had to skip our Toastmaster’s meeting to have fun at home instead. We had a leisurely morning in our pajamas, and during Eric’s morning nap, Katie and I savored some one-on-one time together that we have both been craving. We worked several puzzles (one of her favorites is our United States puzzle—she loves maps and globes), and read some of our longer books that do not quite captivate Eric yet.

When it was time to pick up some of our toys, Katie asked the question mothers long to hear, “What would you like me to pick up?” Woo hoo! This is the first time she has ever asked this, and we celebrated together. I made a big happy deal of it. Clean-up went very smoothly this morning, and I was grateful.

The rest of the day we worked on art projects and with this beautiful, glorious weather, we spent most of the afternoon outside. Oh, how I love outdoor days. We ate lunch, did some art, played in the yard, watched the sky, and visited with my dad. Soaking up that lovely sunshine…

Here are some of our joyful moments today:

Katie tried on my wedding shoes this morning. She chose her whole outfit today (clothes, accessories, hair), and it is clear that she loves, loves being a girl. She was pretending to be a fairy princess with a red flower necklace of mine that I got long ago in Little Italy in New York. When I let her borrow it, I thought about how when I bought it, I had no idea that such a beloved daughter would be in my life…amazing and beautiful how life works out. We pretended the necklace was magic, and we made up a little song to go with it: “Little flower necklace/Close to my heart/All of your goodness/Please impart.” (We learned what “impart” means). It helps to have a pretend narrative going when we’re getting dressed.

Oh my goodness, my cousin Jed gave us one of the best gifts EVER! My Giant Busy Box by Alex Toys. I would give this gift in a heartbeat. There are sixteen different crafts all prepped and ready for doing—so perfect for a busy mom with a child who loves art!!! Since all the materials are present and ready for use, I get to do the fun part of teaching (makes me miss my classroom sometimes!), and Katie gets to dive in immediately. We opened the box today and were just so thrilled… We made a dog project and a tissue paper fish, enjoying the sunshine. Easy clean-up, too—since it all fits in the box. Glue is also provided, and everything is pre-cut and ready to punch out, so no scissors are necessary. Awesome, awesome gift.

Katie explains to Eric what she is making.

Katie’s tissue paper fish. So much fun for both of us (fun for me to instruct and lead, and fun for her to do on her own).

 

Then it was time for the swings… Eric’s first official swing (I had suggested it once to him a couple of months ago, but he didn’t want to be in it back then). Today he really enjoyed himself!

Katie gently swings her brother. I love that they are so close in age…I can see the magic between them, even in how they look at each other.

The swing is yummy!! Mmmmmm!

Boppa gave Eric his first taste of apple, and Eric found the food he likes best so far. Apples….yummmmmmy! Boppa cut a big piece from his apple for Eric to suck on and gum a bit, and Eric did not want to relinquish it. I had some applesauce on hand…oh my! Eric had just finished a big bowl of oatmeal, but when he tried the applesauce, he gobbled it!

All tired out…Eric is napping at this moment. He loves his giraffe, especially today. He fell asleep while we three were sitting all in a row and reading books. Joy is often so simple…

 

Today was a beautiful day in Southern California—warm, clear, fragrant with the promise of springtime. The perfect day, in fact, to celebrate Christmas with my Nana and our family.

Originally, Bill and I thought we might surprise Nana on Christmas Eve on our way to dinner that night. There has never been a Christmas when I have not spent at least part of it with Nana. When we received the call, though, telling us that Grandpa Yoder had taken a turn for the worse, we drove immediately to the hospital and knew that Christmas with Nana would need to be shared on a different day.

She left her tree decorated, and we could see it through the slider window as we all ate lunch outside by the pool today. Aunt Jenny and Aunt Anna set up the ping pong table and found a new model of the old Toss Across game, which we set up for Violet and Katie. We all enjoyed the time outside, time with family. It was still Christmas, because we were all together. Yes, the kiddos may have been in rompers. Yes, we ate sandwiches instead of prime rib. Yes, we all broke a sweat in the hot sun playing ping pong. Yet, it was just as full of the Christmas spirit as any time we’ve been together on the holiday. What a blessing to know that Christmas can truly last all year in the heart, and in the gathering of family.

Eric was able to take his first “generations” picture. The four of us have been together before, but we had yet to all be pictured together. I remember on that last visit with Grandpa Yoder at his home in November, it crossed my mind to take a “generations” picture…but I didn’t get around to it that day, and I thought “We’ll have another chance soon.” I wish we had one of all four of us, like we do for Katie.

Eric met Great-Aunt Jenny today. If Eric had been a girl, we had decided that he was going to be named “Jennifer” after her.

Eric and his great-grandmother, June Mitchell.

Learning how to play Toss Across.

How fortunate we are to have had this day together, to make these memories. In a life where we must say goodbye to those we love all too often, happiness is taking time with one another while we have each other here.

Gather your joy in your family, and celebrate the love that spans generations and years.

I am starting to catch up on some of my recent pictures. Here is a little peek at what the kiddos have been up to!

Yesterday morning we put on a ballet, so Katie decorated her brother in a costume.

Katie puts a crown on Eric.

Oh, to be the little brother! I used to dress my little brother up, too. Privileges of being the older one!

In the past couple of weeks, Eric found his feet.

Feet are fun!

I remember when Katie discovered her feet…time goes way too fast!

Katie and I discovered a “new” park—all the play structures in our neighborhood are in the process of being replaced with newer models. We had fun!

Today we had chores and errands to do: grocery shopping, laundry, etc.

Katie likes to use the little shopping cart at the store to help me shop!

Katie ponders which beans to buy (we needed both black beans and pinto beans today).

Katie likes to look at the cards in the card aisle.

After picking out produce, we headed for check-out.

Katie was proud of herself and felt like a big girl today. Not only did she help with all the shopping and crossing out the items on our list, but she picked out her outfit all by herself today: dress, hairdo, shoes, accessories. She loves the freedom to embrace options and choices. Big girl!

Okay, I am keeping it short for today. 🙂 A combination of teething and moderate reaction to his vaccinations yesterday meant that Eric and I were up for most of the night. Katie never reacted to her immunizations, but the past two times Eric has developed a low-grade fever to accompany them. It’s not too big a deal, because I would much rather comfort him through a little warmth (which means he is developing his antibodies) than to take the risk that he might contract an illness that is many magnitudes more serious. However, it meant a wakeful night for us, because he was restless. Even though his fever was never extreme, he was much more comfortable with palliative care so I used cold washcloths to bring his temperature down for him so we could both get a couple hours sleep in between. With changing, feeding, and the cold compresses, we were awake for about an hour each of the three times he woke up… But, that’s how it is a mom. It’s just that he has spoiled me, because he sleeps like a champ—I am not used to waking up so, so, so much anymore!

I am sleepy today.

Yet this morning when I finally had to peel my eyeballs open, when both kiddos were as awake as could be, I really had to have a talk with myself for one minute…and I made the decision to CHOOSE thankfulness. Thank you, for my children. Thank you for letting them be safe and healthy with me. A night of wakefulness? That’s part of my job. I really can’t complain, except that at 6:00 this morning, I really felt for a split second like grumbling…a lot.

Then the Matics and Yoder farm values kicked in. Get up. Do the actions. The heart will follow. Make the oatmeal. Cut up grapefruit. Dress the children. Dress yourself. Pull yourself up by the bootstraps…and get going. Do I really think my ancestors had time to complain? And look how much easier I really have it. A microwave. Gas burning stove to make tea. A heater to keep the house warm.

Yes, readers, it was that basic this morning. Get back to the fundamentals of gratitude. Be glad I don’t have to walk ten miles in the snow. I had to remind myself of my basic thanks. That’s how tired I was. Tired, but not too tired to forget that I have so much to celebrate everyday. I am lucky.

So we ate, dressed, and went for a walk. It is almost counter-intuitive, but when I am most tired, I try to exercise. Exercise gives me energy when I feel I have none. We went to a park and played. I pretended that my eyes and head and back did not hurt, chose not to dwell, and eventually I tricked myself into feeling more awake.

The morning got better. Dad and I went to our Toastmasters meeting. I was a little tired there, but managed to win Best Table Topics (despite truly believing that it should have been someone else). When I am tired, I guess I worry less about what I will say and so I am not as nervous as I normally am.

The best part? I got to watch my dad win Most Valuable Member of 2010 for our club. I thought that honor was well-deserved. I know it might seem biased, but my main criteria for the Most Valuable Member includes attendance (as there would be no club if people didn’t attend regularly). Record showed that my dad had the best attendance of the year. He also completed his CC, to help the club meet one of its goals. Too, he has been serving  as an officer and has done some extra little things, like make new name cards, purchase materials to share without reimbursement, etc. He really loves being a part of Toast of the Valley.

Also, I know he would never vote for himself or even think he would ever be considered—that kind of humility is also appealing to me when it comes to awards like this.

So the tiredness is catching up with me this afternoon, but I am truly thankful for the joys I got to witness today, even with only one eye open. My children laughed and played and learned, and I got to watch my dad win an award that is meaningful to him, one that he did not expect.

Gather your joy by celebrating the triumphs of your family, of those you love. When we are really glad for others, and to have them in our lives, then we have all the heart-energy in the world, even if our bodies are begging for our beds.

Bill gave me a beautiful gift: The Complete Lyrics of Oscar Hammerstein II (published 2008). Many of you probably know that I am an absolute nut over musicals, especially those from Rodgers and Hammerstein (although several others, as well). Just today we filled the house with the score from Oklahoma! (“Oh what a beautiful morning/Oh what a beautiful day…”). In fact, my life is often a musical. I am happier when I sing, the children too, so I tend to sing all the time. I don’t claim to be a really great singer or anything like that, but I can hold a tune—and I sure love it. In my fantasy life, I am always a singer, sometimes on Broadway or sometimes I imagine being Stevie Nicks.

It is difficult not to sing. I find myself singing before I even realize that I ought probably to be talking. I sing to Eric about the snaps on his onesies; I sing to Katie about putting on her shoes. It helps to keep the mood calm if we are trying to get out of the house to go somewhere, and it is fun to sing when we cook, play, or dance. Most of the time, I fear that my children will think we live in an operetta. I am not comfortable singing around everybody, but Bill has always made me feel that he loves my singing and that he isn’t judging it. I figure Katie and Eric are too little to judge it and just soak up the mommy-love it represents. The music class that the children and I take has helped me to feel more comfortable singing (especially to or with my children) in public, but if I really could get away with it, I probably would sing everything instead of talk…at the grocery store, in the bank, at Starbucks ordering lattes. Singing feels like an absence of stress, to me.

So I love Rodgers and Hammerstein, naturally. Friends who have been reading my blogs for awhile, you know already that one of my favorite musicals ever is The Sound of Music. I have a dream someday to take the Sound of Music tour in Salzburg. The first song I ever sang to Katie the night she was born was “My Favorite Things.” We sing it daily, and her first birthday had a “My Favorite Things” theme. (For example, both of us wore “white dresses with blue satin sashes”). I love, love, love the lyrics to that song because we are reminded to look for the blessings “when the dog bites/when the bee stings,” and when we feel sad. If there is one message I hope to impart to my children in life it is to look for the good even when it is hard to find.

I pondered Eric’s special song for most of my pregnancy. What to choose? There were many options, but in the end I wanted to connect it as much as possible to Katie’s special song, and I chose “The Sound of Music.”I sing it to Eric every night as I tuck him in, just as I still sing Katie’s to her when I tuck her in.

The hills are alive/With the sound of music,/With songs they have sung/For a thousand years./The hills fill my heart/With the sound of music—/My heart wants to sing/Ev’ry song it hears/My heart wants to beat/Like the wings of the birds that rise/From the lake to the trees./My heart wants to sigh/Like a chime that flies/From the church on a breeze,/To laugh like a brook/When it trips and falls/Over stones on its way/To sing through the night/Like a lark who is learning to pray!/I go to the hills/When my heart is lonely;/I know I will hear/What I’ve heard before—/My heart will be blessed/With the sound of music,/And I’ll sing once more.

Reading my book about Hammerstein’s lyrics, though, I learned something interesting. The actual lyrics are still officially written in the published libretto as “To laugh like a brook/When it trips and falls/Over stones in its way/…”

Julie Andrews, in the movie soundtrack, was the one to sing it as “Over stones on its way.”

One slight preposition of a difference. In vs. on.

It probably doesn’t really matter too much, but I’ve given it some thought—being a total fan and absolutely gaga over word choice in any case.

I prefer Julie Andrews’ way. In her version, the brook (representing the spirit of a person) is still the primary agent; the stones merely are there, doing nothing of notice, or, if they are impeding the flow of water, it is implied that the symbolic mirth of the brook is much more powerful and superseding. Obstacles may be on our path, but they are never totally in the way.

If the stones are “in the way” it is implied that the impediments have much more power and potential to divert the happiness of the brook, of the singer, of the ability to find goodness.

At least, that is how I read it. A lyrical Rorschach.

I am reminded of how much perception influences how we view the obstacles we face. Do we acknowledge and pass by them on our own way, on our own terms? Or do they sometimes stand in our way, head on? What is the role of our joy? The sound of our music that we sing to shore up our hearts?

A little bit to ponder!

The kiddos and I had a playdate this afternoon at my friend Sana’s house. I have met few people as genuinely open and welcoming as Sana is, so full of light and so able to incorporate anyone into the natural good flow of energy through her home. It is a true spiritual gift Sana has: bringing others into her good word. The busyness of her home is a happy busyness. Children play and learn; there is a freedom to be oneself. There are many things to learn from Sana…

She is a connector. I first noticed this when I met her in Toastmasters and then from reading and editing her blog. She is the kind of person everyone loves to be around: positive, non-judging, uplifting, sincere, comforting, gracious.

Sana reminded me today of how important and beautiful it is to connect with others. Life is brighter, more creative, and honest when we do. Some of us will work on our ability to connect all of our lives; those, like Sana, who are graced with the natural gift of it, can teach us how. I think it starts with authenticity, and using one’s authenticity and warmth to bring out the best in other people.

Katie, and Eric, and I had such a fun day! I want so much to write more tonight about the way that the Universe gives bits of light to us in the forms of people, and we have only to listen to uncover great truths. Yet I am needed elsewhere at the moment by one of my children. So, until next time, thank you for connecting with me, my friends who read these words.

Let us gather our joy by connecting with others and bringing out their inner lights.

This past year, I became a believer in love at first sight. Before Eric was born, Katie had plans for him to live outside in the fort of her swing set (or glued to the ceiling of the laundry room, her words). Yet from the moment she first saw him, I witnessed a bond develop between them that I know will last their whole lives. She immediately kissed him and held him when she came to see us in the hospital, and her eyes shined with love. She has been loyal and true to him ever since, making up songs about how much she loves him and patiently sharing her mommy and waiting her turn for things that she never had to wait for when she was an only child.

Eric loves her in return. The magic between them is tangible. They both want to see each other first thing in the morning. I am so glad they are as close as they are in age, because they will have the chance to be in the same phases of life together: both teenagers, both in college, even both married and having children. Katie says she never wants to live far away from Eric. To see them together is to see sweetness embodied. He laughs and laughs at her three-year-old antics and expressions. My main goal as a parent is to foster this between them, so that they will always have each other even when I am one day gone.

Of course before Eric was born, I wondered about how Katie would feel sharing her toys. To see her willing and generous heart has been a blessing. Even baby toys that were her favorites, she shares. She includes Eric in our imagination play: he was Mr. Smee this morning. She shares her figurines and princesses and blocks.

It helps that some of Eric’s Christmas toys appeal to Katie, too. Some of those toys Santa picked very intentionally so that Eric could share them and offer reciprocity (like a set of duplo Legos—he can’t play with them now too well, but he can share them and it offers him an “in” to mix with Katie’s Legos later, if technically he owns half of our total Legos). Santa addressed some of their toys to both of them. Santa is not above a little strategic planning to foster the bond. 😉

This morning, we took out our Mega Blocks. Katie has a pink set from her first birthday, and Eric got a fire truck with primary colored Mega Blocks from his grandparents for Christmas. We played together, building a boat, and then I helped Katie to build a tower. “We have twice as many blocks when we share, don’t we?” I emphasized. “Let’s see how high we can build the tower now!”

We managed to build it a little bit taller than Katie’s height.

Eventually it toppled! Time to start anew!

Dressing for the day, Katie and Eric had another sweet moment. Katie shared her “cozy” with her little brother. The “cozy” is the blanket around here. Extremely important. I have to sneak it away sometimes just to wash it.

Eric seemed to know the significance of having “cozy” put on him, because he got a HUGE smile!

Sweet Eric face, so happy to be with his sister.

So, love at first sight does exist, it turns out. I might never have believed in it, except to see it in its pure form: between two little siblings, so pure in their childlike bond.

I gathered my joy through the love between my children today, and I am thankful.

Tonight was a three-song night for Eric, although it was a one-song night for Katie. Nightly bedtime is 8:00PM in our house, by the time we finishing reading, bundling, getting water, brushing teeth, etc. Eric is usually so pleased to be in his crib that he falls asleep by the time Katie’s teeth are brushed. He’s my sleeper. Katie is my live-life-to-the-full girl, hardly recognizing her own tiredness. Tonight, though, Eric needed a little extra rocking, song singing, and gum-rubbing. When I came in for his second cuddle, he looked at me with his big baby eyes and reached out to my face. Sure enough, after two more songs, he was peacefully sucking his thumb and both kiddos were asleep by 8:20. My husband now, too, I think. The running joke in our house is what song from The Sound of Music my husband should hear each night? (Katie’s special song is “My Favorite Things” and Eric’s is “The Sound of Music”).

It’s been a busy day, too. In between throwing a stuffed doggy birthday party, going to my annual appointment at Temecula Valley OB/GYN, dancing to Raffi, and sipping some PG Tips from my cousin Hannah, I actually had a moment to get some housework done. Whoa. I am pretty obsessive about vacuuming, and I try to keep up with the bathrooms and kitchen, but today I had a moment to start whittling away at the other little things that always need to be done, such as the dusting and polishing.

Dusting and polishing tends to be toward the bottom of my list when it comes to housework, and yet it is one of the most satisfying chores to have done. All the wood and glass has an extra sparkle, the light bouncing off in new ways. Everything feels twinkly and smells of lemon oil and Windex. Katie usually helps me with her own rag, but today I gave her a break and Eric helped instead, traveling around with me in his Baby Bjorn harness carrier.

When I began today, though, it felt like such a chore. I thought of my aunt’s remark once about why she chooses to clean her own house: “Why pay someone to do it when I can do it myself?” Spoken like a Matics. Today I could think of a million reasons why: chores can be tedious, never-ending, not-so-interesting, not fun. We tried a few cleaning services once, back when I was still working. Neither my husband or I could ever get used to strangers in our most personal of spaces, and one woman turned out toilet seat blue and we came upon another eating our Pez. Of all things. There was another woman, one we liked and kept for a long time, but she had to move. It was near then that I had decided to take a leave of absence from teaching, and I thought it made the best sense to take over the cleaning.

Thank all that is good for parents that taught me how to do chores when I was growing up. It was expected that I would help my mom clean our house, up through high school. Dusting and polishing was, in fact, my main chore, but I experienced all of them. Let me tell you, my parents have a LOT of wood. It took at least a couple of hours to do it all and do it right. I am sure that I grumbled at least a few times, but in retrospect, I am glad they made me pull my weight and valued my contribution as a family member. Moreso, I am thankful they instilled the discipline to do and finish a job right, even in moments when I didn’t want to. It taught me to pull myself up and get-er-done. How many more times I have had to “get-er-done” with respect to many parts of my adult life, I cannot even begin to say. I am grateful for the training.

It’s those old farm values again.

I am a little bit sloppier, now and then, dusting my own wooden pieces, I’ll admit it. Yet every once in awhile, I get back into my groove with my polish and my rag and let my mind wander. I dust my the big picture frame on the wall, and I let my mind wander over the images inside: the lighthouse at Point Reyes, one of my favorite places in the world; my mom and I hiking in Muir Woods; the California coast. I polish my hanging curio cabinet and dust the tiny china teacup and saucer inside: it belonged to my great-grandmother Sarah McClain (who was later Sarah Matics—like me—when she married Guy), and she earned it in 1909 for perfect Sunday school attendance. It is over 100 years old…. Eric tries to suck on my finger, woops, it is too oily…better finish up here and get him settled. Katie is ready, too, for her doggy birthday party.

My friend Sana recently wrote in her blog about this human quality of work and of caring for her home (“Feeling Human. Get to Work.”) She opens her piece with a thought that, I think, is profound:

“Some days, I feel more human than others.  Today was one of those days.  ”Chalk full,” as my Aussie-friend says, with stuff.  Started when I got up with the usual dishes, laundry, breakfast and such.  Thankful for it you know.  Means we’re living here.” (Sana Johnson-Quijada, posted 12/22/2010)

This part, here: “Thankful for it you know. Means we’re living here.” It has stayed with me. I thought of Sana’s words again today. Just at the moment when I was thinking about how there is always cleaning and tidying to be done, how it never is all perfectly returned to order, along came her words of wisdom. Means we’re living here. Yes, yes. Just at the moment when I was tempted to dust off my old nemesis perfectionism… The dishes by the sink, the dust that gathers on the sideboard while I spend days playing with my children instead of polishing, the blocks strewn on the floor, the couch pillow that toppled off: signs that we are here and are alive and rolling with the flow. The signs of my children, and my husband, and myself. Even chores that never end can be perfect in their own way.

Even mess can be beautiful, interpreted through a joyful, open lens.

Today there was a way to gather joy amidst the gathered dust.

Of all the pictures arranged on the memorial table at my Grandpa Yoder’s funeral reception last week, the picture of the old Yoder farmhouse, a red wooden structure surrounded by trees, in Indiana took up the deepest root in my mind and heart. He had kept it in his office, and I’d never seen it. Some part of me comes from there. So often I have felt a fundamental connection to my Amish Mennonite ancestry; in fact, my dad’s side of our family also hails from generations of farmers in California. Farm blood is my blood. I celebrate the attention and reverence that farm values place upon working with our hands and finding glory in a job well done, upon the simple pleasures and basics of life, upon the importance of family and working together. The down-to-earthness.

In another serendipitous common thread winding among events happening in my life, my mom gave me several cross stitch projects and supplies for Christmas. Knowing of my love for all things Amish, one of the patterns she gave me features an Amish countryside village with horses and buggies. During Christmas, I had a chance to glance at only briefly as I was helping Katie with her gifts.

Today I pulled the gift back out. In one of those amazing life coincidences that leaves one speechless, I noticed for the first time the wording on the top of the pattern. To be stitched above the scene are the words “BIRD IN HAND.” I could almost feel the breath leave my body. She bought that pattern months ago; I had been considering titling this blog “birdinyourhand” for some few days before Christmas, before ever opening the gift. What are the chances of all these elements—my ancestry, my core values, my outlet for expression (my blog), etc—coming together right at this one time? I am going to have to ponder this one…

My dad, Richard Matics, and I were speaking of  down-to-earth farm values this afternoon, in fact, as we discussed the main values of his real estate company. He owns Matics Realty Inc, and we’ve been working on writing the content for his website. My brother’s MIL (mother-in-love) Lorraine Ryba, one of the owners of PuterWerkZ, has been designing the site. Only the completion of the written content is needed for official launch, and so my dad and I sat down for a second writing session today. My dad and I work well together: he talks about what he values and the facts, and I write and edit the content into paragraphs. It gets a little hectic at moments with the two kiddos as busy as ever—I can’t exactly report that I have quiet working conditions—but there is joy even in the loud loveliness. My mom came over, too, and she and Katie both were squealing in delight while playing hide-and-go-seek.

I am a creature, by nature, of the quietest and calmest and most solitudinous times of night. Always have been. Learning to work, think, and exist amid the bustle and delightful squeals and chatter and clinkings of toys has been a great challenge for me as a mother.  As much as I have always encouraged joyful noise and singing, still I sometimes crave a moment of silence with every fiber of my body—and it might only be 10:00 in the morning. Thank goodness, again, for my previous career in teaching, which conditioned me well to have patience and postponement and to embrace different needs and different voices craving recognition all at once. Thank goodness, too, for four years of living with roommates and dormmates in college, and for learning how to create a personal space in one compartment of my mind that I can go to for a five minute breather when I need to tune back in to my inner calm.

It is the time when life seems the busiest that we must return to our fundamentals. We return to our inner farm, and plant the authentic seeds of ourselves anew. Let us gather our joy—and our wits and our written voices and our moments of personal calm—in the midst of life’s most bouncy bustle.