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Few things in life surpass the delight of being mostly asleep and feeling someone lay a blanket over you to keep you warm. It is a magically cozy feeling, a coziness that starts way inside the heart and through dreams. It is one of those simple gestures of love that one person makes to another.  A way to say: I am loving and thinking about you and your comfort; I am protecting you while you sleep. To cover someone with warmth and love is to give a true gift. So simple, and it costs nothing: the glow of coziness.

The kiddos and I had a busy morning: we took a long walk and played at a nearby park. When we got home, Eric was sleepy. Katie went to get one of their blankets, and she gently covered him after he had already fallen asleep.

Big Sister tucks in her little brother for a small nap.

 

She tucked him in, saying, “Swaddle him, swaddle him.” Such sweetness…

While he napped, we made lemon bars from some lemons my mom and dad brought back from my grandpa’s land. We talked about how the scent of the lemon zest reminds us of his land and of him.

Using the pastry cutter, Katie helps to make the shortbread crust for the bars.

We also worked on today’s craft/lesson: wax paper “stained glass” hearts. We shaved crayons onto wax paper, folded over the paper, ironed, and then cut out heart shapes. Pictures of the final product still need to be taken, as we have yet to hang them up. That will be tomorrow…

Katie said this project was “the best one we’ve ever done!” (And that’s really saying something, because we have done many, many art projects together. She loved choosing the crayons and color blends. I also let her help with the ironing (carefully).

Katie works on making crayon shavings.

I love my two little people so much. My wish for them is that they will always be the kind of brother and sister to cover one another with a blanket when the air is cold, that their bond will triumph over any test life brings. I see in Katie the loyalty of a big sister and in Eric his totally adoring and trusting eyes. Because one is three and one is 5.5 months, I am often bouncing from one’s needs to the next—and it can get hectic to have them so close in age and still so young. Yet then there are a great many magical moments like today, when I am beyond thankful that they are so close in age and will travel through many of the same life phases together.

And there is so much joy for me, as a mother, to watch my daughter gently tuck in her brother the way I have done for her so many times. It means that she knows, at some deep level that she cannot verbally express, just how much I love her.

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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…

 

My two little birds have been patient all day, as today we have spent most of our time on chores…you know, those little things that just need to be done. Some of it was fun: Katie helped me to change entirely the bedding in the master bedroom, and we had fun cooking together. Some of it was not fun: while Eric napped, Katie had to play patiently on her own while I collected laundry and finished assorted tasks.

Although we began the day with some reading and playtime, when it came time to do work, parts of it were difficult for my children. Their little mouths were open—not for food, but hungry for play and attention.

I’ve had to make choices about my time tonight. Instead of blogging and working on my photograph projects as much as I normally do, I am choosing to spend the balance of time reading to Katie and filling up her little heart. All day she has wanted to read, and we’ve hardly had a moment. It is time to put her first today.

Sometimes we need to gather joy in making choices that fill up someone else, and that can be the best kind of joy there is.

Okay, I am keeping it short for today. ūüôā 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!

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. ¬†‚ÄĚChalk full,‚ÄĚ 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‚Äôre 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.