Belly to Belly, Heart to Heart

My baby girl is a little over 6 months old and this morning was the first time I consciously not only was mindful but remembered that feeling of mindfulness, its beauty and its peace, and most of all, its preciousness. Sure I’ve been mindful in the past 6 months, and before that since whenever my last post was (which I just realized as I post this entry was an entire YEAR ago--yikes!). But I think these mindful moments have been few and far between, and if they entered my mind, the thoughts soon drifted away like so many other things do unless I write them down. We’ve been pretty much doing the survival thing instead of focusing on the beauty of being present these past 6 months … new baby, houseguests, terrible threes tantrums, lack of sleep by everyone in the house, separation issues, househunting (and buying!!) … the list can go on and on. But today I was given such a gift, the rare opportunity for my baby girl and I to be alone together and to nap together. Matt worked in Kalev’s school and Aviella and I had an hour to lay together in bed. Sadly, I didn’t manage to sleep (too much on this always active mind), but I am glad that one of the many thoughts was the highlighting of this wonderful, special and fleeting moment. This moment of mindfulness didn’t erupt in bright shiny lights, but instead reached out and surrounded me with its soft warmth. My beautiful baby girl, the warmth of her body permeating my skin, our bellies pressed together so that each breath pushed her adorable rounded tummy closer to mine, our hearts beating next to each other, her delicious milky breath against my nose, and those beautiful, absolutely perfect fingers moving from my breast to my face, where I could softly kiss them without waking her up. I think there is almost nothing better than holding your sleeping child. And that miracle, that blessing, and that absolutely perfect beauty of this opportunity touched me in that moment. I focused on our joint breathing, the feeling of our bodies against each other, the wonderful singular smell of baby, and the craziness of the past six months melted away as I allowed myself to not only concentrate on all these feelings, but to hold them in my mind and heart long enough to write about them and to hopefully remember them in the minutes, days, hours and weeks of busy living to come. To many more beautiful moments of living in the present ...

That Magic Moment … Slowly Slipping Away

My dear friend Beth recently wrote a beautiful blog post on the magical moment she has during bathtime with her kids—the meditative feeling of repeatedly rinsing her daughter’s hair, the special sweet smell of clean child that is so unique and precious, and that stoppage of time where all you do is just bath—and the fact that with her last child growing up, these magical moments of bathtime are sliding away. I loved the post and nodded to myself and said yeah, I love bathtime too—Kalev’s special smile of delight, his bath dance, the way he lines up his ducks and boats afterwards—a special time where you can totally glimpse his joy in the moment and therefore it transfers to your joy as well. So I agreed and was sad, sad for Beth and sad for one day no longer getting to enjoy bathtime with Kalev. Then I went about the rest of my day.

Except that those words of Beth’s crept into me, into my heart and my mind, stewing there and churning churning churning until it hit me—Oh my God! My magic moment is holding Kalev while he sleeps and oh my God oh my God oh my God! It’s sliding away! This moment of course came to me as I looked down into the peaceful child sleeping in my arms. This was it. This was my bath moment. And it hurt, that realization that he will not always be sleeping in my arms. Like Beth, I get to experience my magic moment every night, and lucky me, every nap time, because Kalev still falls asleep in my arms. Sometimes the process getting there is annoying or frustrating and I think all I want to do is sleep myself or get something done, but as soon as he’s asleep, I’m there—that magic moment, that magic place, of true mindfulness and appreciation of what an amazing experience this is. It washes away whatever struggles happened during the day—the negotiations, the meltdowns, the limit setting, any illness, any frustration—and refreshes me and my outlook on motherhood. (It is also one of the few times Kalev is mostly still, that his energy is resting, and that I can just look at him and breathe in his awesomeness). I am so blessed! Thank you God for giving me such an amazing son, and the experience of being his mother. I look at him, curled against me, his breath fluttering against my chest, his perfect lips slightly open to allow his breath in and out—that slow, beautiful meditative synergy of breathing, of me slowing down to appreciate that breath and match it. He is my baby and my love for him blows me away. I’m consumed by it. I know that love will stay forever, but gosh, I really don’t want to lose this special time of holding him while he sleeps. (Hence the gazillion pictures I take of him during these moments, some of which I share below)

Beth’s post clarified my fear of this magic moment sliding away, but it’s been rumbling in little pops of fear for the last few months. We’ve been in survival mode around here since late January/early February and I haven’t really taken much time to think through deep thoughts or focus on my mindfulness—I just got through the moment, the minute, the day. But since I’ve been feeling better lately those thoughts have crept in, usually at naptime or bedtime, when I realize Wow! Things are really going to change soon. Kalev falling asleep and sleeping during the night on and off in my arms—this will change. I don’t know the mechanics or the specifics of the change, but I know with a new addition to our family and our family bed, things are going to seriously change. And a big change will be this magic moment I experience with Kalev—when I hold him for an hour or more, relishing in this closeness, the quietness, the love; when we curl together throughout the night and wake up, like we did this morning, snuggled so closely together I am almost off the bed (poor Matt, all alone with the other ¾ of the bed!); when I give him an extra squeeze and block out those images of an eight year old boy losing his life in Boston yesterday because I really, really can’t go there; when in sleep his hand flutters against my cheek and I know this moment is magical for him too. What will I do when this slides away? When he no longer wants to fall asleep in my arms or sleep curled against me at night? And what will I do if I cause this magic moment to slip away sooner because of the new baby I so desperately wanted? When I have to make choices and one of those choices might be to hold the other child and nurse that child to sleep?  I can’t imagine my life without these magic moments for us.

All this thinking makes my heart heavy. I don’t like change and I especially don’t like thinking about my little boy changing so much that he no longer is my little baby in my arms. I know it happens, that it needs to happen, that one of my jobs as a mother is to give Kalev the tools and the love so that he can be independent … but how do you handle it? How do mothers and fathers let these magic moments slip away? And again and again with each child? It’s too much for me on this spring morning. I just want to snuggle in bed with my baby.

The lesson that I’m trying to teach myself in all this is to not focus on the sliding away. It’s inevitable, like so many things, but it hurts (also like so many things darnit!). But I’m hoping that maybe the change will be gradual, and in a way and time that it works for both of us. We believe in lots of child-led things—weaning, potty training, family bed—so I have to trust (or I try to tell myself to trust) that these changes happen gradually and usually happen as they are meant to, and the relationship we have with Kalev is gradually adjusted and accepting of this new phase. Oftentimes, like the potty training, we greet it with joy. I don’t think I will greet the whole no more magic moment of sweet angelic sleep in my arms with joy, but I am hopeful it will happen at a time when both Kalev and I are ready and willing to accept the transformation to some other magic moment. And until then, I really want to teach myself to use this magic moment as the meditation it can be—focus on the moment, on the feel of him against me, of the joy I feel having this experience, the peace it brings me, the assurance that even with crazy days and horrible evil people doing bad things in this world everything is ok at the foundation of my world because of the love I have with this special baby. And I will definitely give him some extra snuggles tonight :-)

 Just a few days after Kalev was born

 Loved how we used to sleep face to face, nose to nose

 

 My big boy, growing up and slowly sliding away

Why Haven’t I Learned Yet?

Last night I lay in bed discouraged. What had started as a beautiful, fun, spontaneous day had turned into a challenging, exhausting, frustrating afternoon and evening. I watched my now-peaceful son sleeping next to me and hated myself for the totally not-mindful mama I felt I acted like the past few hours. I know better. I read about it, I write about it, I talk about it endlessly—how to be a mindful, intentional, responsive, and respectful parent. So why haven’t I learned how to do it yet?!

The following were questions about this issue of responding mindfully that I jotted down last night when I was too tired to write here:

·      Why haven’t I learned that just because I am progressing down my to-do list it doesn’t mean Kalev doesn’t need me right at that exact moment?

·      Why haven’t I learned that even if Kalev just had a three-hour nap that he could still be tired?

·      Why haven’t I learned that it is more important to dance with my son than do the dishes or make dinner?

·      Why haven’t I learned that cuddling and nursing until Kalev signals he’s ready for the next activity would prevent the battle for my attention and my fixation on getting things done?

·      Why haven’t I learned that time is too short and so very soon Kalev won’t be asking me to play with him? Or to cuddle him? Or to nurse him?

·      Why haven’t I learned that it so important, one of the most important things, to just be, instead of do, do, do?

Framing these questions made me feel better. I know I have learned the answers to them, it’s just hard to always remember when I’m tired and preoccupied. And it’s hard, in fact impossible, to always remember and implement these answers and responses every single time. I know I have it in me to give Kalev the response he needs and deserves and usually I do a pretty good job. And I know from our childbirth class that being mindful is about realizing this knowledge, even when the knowledge shows your mistakes and ways you did not want to act.

I also know one of the most important things we are so lucky to have as parents—that when Kalev woke up with a huge smile on his face and greeted me with kisses, he had already forgiven me even before I apologized. And when I told him I was sorry about how I acted and that it was not right for me to be so impatient and frustrated, he nodded and smiled, then took my hand to go and play. And, because I had learned a little bit, I followed. Even though the dishes are still in the sink. Even when I mess up, when I’m not mindful, when I’m not the best mother in the world, I’ll get another chance to implement all these things I’ve learned. That’s what’s so great about a loving relationship—since I do okay most of the time, I get some slack when I mess up. There’s no perfect parent and mistakes happen. It’s how we repair them and how we act the next time that shows how mindful we are as parents, and teaches our children how to forgive, ask for forgiveness, and know that tomorrow is another day to try again. And since today is Friday, I have a feeling today is going to be a good day!

Walking Meditations

In our childbirth class we used a walking meditation a few times as one of our formal mindfulness practices. When we met for our reunion I shared that mindful walking was one of the formal practices in which I continued to undertake, although I hadn't really thought of it as a formal meditation or mindfulness practice before then. At that time Kalev was about two months old and I was on maternity leave. I would put Kalev in the Baby Bjorn and take him and the dogs out for a walk through the park or on the greenbelt. I loved it. Now, over a year later, I still take my walks, although now I am much more aware that I view them as a type of formal mindfulness practice. It's a time for me to enjoy nature--the smells, the sights, and the sounds of it. I don't take a cell phone or an iPod--it's just my babies and me. And my thoughts. Sometimes those thoughts tick off things to do but mostly they are just noticing what's around me. And that's what my goal is for these walks. Just to be. And to be mindful of the blessing of the nature that surrounds us and my family that is accompanying me on these walks.

As I mentioned, I share these walks with my three babies. And that definitely enhances the experience. For the dogs, this is the highlight of their day. They are completely mindful of the experience and notice many more things than I would have noticed had I been walking by myself. They literally stop to smell the roses (and then pee on them of course!). Since I let them stop and sniff, at least most of the time, I stop too. My walk is not a rush to get from Point A to Point B. And sometimes when I try to make it that way, my dogs remind me to slow down and smell those roses. Look at how beautiful the plants are. That the leaves have changed colors or have fallen off the trees. Feel that sun on your face. Dogs are good teachers of mindfulness.

And of course Kalev accompanies me on these walks. He, too, is an amazing mindfulness teacher. All babies are--they live for the moment, for the joy of the experience. There are no to do lists for them, there aren't even clocks. They just enjoy the experience of the walk. Kalev makes my walks such an amazing mindfulness and bonding experience. I have never walked Kalev in a stroller. We've used a variety of baby carriers for our walks and around the house. If you're into that thing you call it baby wearing. It's a beautiful concept. It simply means that you carry your baby. For many parents who follow attachment parenting principles, it means you carry that baby a lot. And they thrive. You as a parent do too because there are so many incredible benefits to babywearing (here are some resources about baby wearing if you want to learn more: Dr. Sears’ on babywearing, BabywearingInternational, thebabywearer.com). Wearing Kalev has truly made my walking mindfulness practice a communal experience, which might seem to counteract the whole mindfulness thing. But, as I mentioned, him being part of my walk truly enhances my experience, and in turn, my practice. Right now I wear Kalev in an Ergo baby carrier. His chest is against mine. I can feel the heat of his body and love that our breaths can join together because we are that attuned to one another. Because his face is so close to mine I experience the walk through his eyes as well as my own. I see the delight in those eyes as we walk, just for the pure joy of being on a walk. I see the curiosity spark and his neck crane as we pass people, dogs, bicyclists and utility workers. What are they doing? There's so much of this world that he is still learning about and that I in turn get to relearn or rethink about when I am with him. There's excitement in those eyes as a squirrel climbs a tree. And there's happiness as he leans back in the carrier so that he can look up at the trees. That's my favorite--he loves to look at how the leaves rustle and how the light shines through those tree limbs. And I love to watch him laugh and smile and reach out with his tiny hands to try to touch those tall trees.

It's also a time of such sharing of love between us. Sometimes he rests his head against my chin or my chest. We can give each other Eskimo or real kisses. And sometimes he just reaches out to give me a squeeze. I absolutely love those squeezes. I squeeze him all the time. Because I just can't get enough of him. Guess he feels the same way :-) Sometimes we talk to each other or sing. And sometimes we are just quiet and just take it all in. There's no pressure, there's no outline, there's just us, nature, and being. It's great.

This morning we took our walk in a blanket of fog. Winter hasn't really hit northern California all that much this year. But this morning it felt wintry. Normally I don't like the cold but I enjoyed this walk in it. The fog makes you feel separate from other people, like you are just walking in your own hazy place. And the air was so heavy and wet, but smelled and tasted so clean when I breathed it in. I love the feeling of fresh, clean air. This walk made me think of others I have taken in the past before I thought of them as mindfulness experiences. This foggy morning walk especially made me think of Ireland and the many walks I took there, over rolling green hills, across rocky cliffs, through rain and in the sun, always breathing in air that felt so incredibly pure. I loved being in Ireland and realize now that many of the walks there I experienced with a sense of joy, peace, and lots of introspection: hence, mindfulness. 

 Cliffs of Moher, Ireland 2008

Another memory is Masada. Very different from lush green hills and heavy wet air. We woke up before dawn and watched the sun rise above the Israeli desert. As we climbed up that high high rock to the ruins, I sensed a different flavor in the air: the air there is holy, you just feel it and know it is. You are a bit in awe, especially as you look over the side of the rock to the ground so incredibly far below you. To be mindful there is very easy to do. 

 Masada, Israel 2005

There are also less exotic walks I have taken that I feel have put me into a more mindful frame of mind: walks along various beaches, under the giant trees in Big Trees, even my family's common one in the Davis arboretum. A chance to escape the bustle of life and just be. A great opportunity to teach your children the value of living in, loving, and caring for nature, as well as taking time to just allow yourself to think and feel as you walk. And a great experience to share with the many teachers that can show us how natural this practice (of course not a practice for them at all, but just a state of being) is, our babies and our dogs.

Do you ever find yourself taking those mindful walks? Do you consider unplugging enough to fully absorb the experience? Where have some of those walks taken you? And with whom have you shared them?

My Favorite Morning Ritual

I am a showerer. I need to take a shower every morning or I don’t feel awake and ready to face the day. Showering can also be a great time to practice mindfulness. You’re cocooned in your little stall, away from outside distractions. Your mind can focus. You can also work in one of the mindfulness practices that we tried in our childbirth class—closing your eyes and concentrating on what you feel, hear and smell. The hot water pounding against your skin, the smell of soaps and shampoos, hearing the water hit the tub floor. While I was on maternity leave my daily shower became my me time. I took those 15 minutes to feel refreshed, both mentally and physically. I thought about my baby, my family, the day, as well as how good it felt to just be in the water.

Since I went back to work we’ve been taking a family shower in the morning. First we had Kalev sit at the foot of the tub in his super cute little baby tub. Then, when he was able to safely sit on his own, we threw the tub out and he got to sit and crawl and play in the tub as we got ready for our day. When we made this transition, Kalev added his own daily requirement: nursing in the tub after he was washed and before he had to get out and face the dreaded business of getting a diaper put on him. At first I was flustered: I didn’t have time to nurse for 10 minutes in the shower! I had to get out, get everyone dressed, fed, lunches prepared, diapers put together, and out the door to work. But when you parent by letting your child’s needs guide you, it becomes a very freeing experience. I adapted. So I started nursing at the end of every shower. And I started to love and appreciate this very special time I got with my baby. Just as the shower had always been a way to practice mindfulness for me because of its isolation from the outside world and the steam and heat creating a lovely little sauna of peace, nursing in the shower became a mindfulness practice I could enjoy with Kalev. As he curled in my arms and looked up at me through eyelashes spiked with water, I could stare into his eyes and just focus completely on him and how wonderful it was to be with him. Normally when we nurse it’s to satisfy a need—he’s hungry, it’s time to sleep. There can be a pressure there to make sure we get to the finish line of whatever goal it is. But here, in the shower, it’s 10 minutes of just being together. He’s already nursed when we first woke up so it’s not about satisfying hunger, but just about comfort. It also gives me a set, regular time to stop and sit still, something I don’t do a lot. And it’s warm and cozy, something everyone loves. Sometimes Kalev and I talk to each other, but mostly I just look into his beautiful eyes and think about how blessed I am to have this time with him, just me and him in our bubble. In this bubble I’ve noticed his hazel eyes have changed a little bit to a light brown, that his toenails need to be cut, that he’s gotten taller. I also get to laugh as he raises his eyebrows at me—his sign for saying, “Hey, how are you?” And I get to smile as he pats my cheek as he looks directly into my eyes—his sign for saying, “I love you Ima.” These 10-minute bubbles of love have been priceless—I’ve felt present and at peace, my two main goals right now, and I’ve gotten to share this feeling of contentment with my baby.

Monday morning Kalev only nursed for a minute at the end of our shower. He’s followed this pattern for the rest of the week. The first day I was surprised. Now, as it’s been a week, I’m sad. I guess he’s moving on. The 10-minute ritual I thought was annoying at first, I grew to love and look forward to. Now I’m really sad that it might be over. I knew intellectually that the bubble wouldn’t last forever, that this was a special time that would transition at some future date. But emotionally I wasn’t prepared for my baby to already be ready to let it go, when I am not yet ready. So as I think about my favorite morning ritual, I try not to be too sad as I remember the lessons it gave me: take a breath before getting annoyed, what you think might be a frustrating change to routine might hold unexpected treasures, enjoy the opportunity to be mindful in daily tasks, share your feelings of love, peace and contentment with those you love, and cherish the bubbles of love you have because they are over way too quickly. I’ll greatly miss this morning ritual, but I look forward to discovering the next one, and I am so happy to have a guide as wonderful as Kalev.

Jumping On The Blog Bandwagon: My Grateful Journal

My Dad asked me if I started this blog because we all watched “Julie & Julia” years ago. The answer’s no, but it did make me think of the movie and the goal of Julie to bring some focus into her life. I remember thinking then that that isn’t a bad idea at all.

I’ve been toying with the idea of a blog for awhile, but I was scared to actually start it. So like a few other decisions I’ve made recently, I just did it because then it’s done and I’ll live with the consequences. The thoughts that have been swirling in my head these past few months that finally channeled into creating the blog are the following:

1.     My Grateful Journal: My dear friend Beth keeps a grateful journal. She told me about this journal years ago. Every night she writes down things she is grateful for. I am of course happy to have been included a time or two :-). When things had been rough in the past, she suggested that I start a grateful journal. Both Matt and I tried it. Well actually, I think his never made it to paper. But mine did. For about 3 days. Sigh. When I realized that it just wasn’t working for me to write down my list, I told Matt we’d just say our grateful list out loud before bed each night. That lasted a lot longer. Maybe three weeks. Another sigh. So when I told Matt I started this blog, he said, “Oh, this is your new grateful journal!” Huh, I had not thought of it that way. But it totally is. Not only do I want to use this blog to focus and form a more formalized practice of mindfulness, but I also want it to help me be present and at peace and for me, being at peace is often thinking of my blessings in life. So this blog will chronicle those blessings and hence, be my grateful journal. I feel no pressure to list these blessings every day, but I already know that by just pressing submit on blogspot and creating this blog, I forced myself to “just do it” and start formally thinking about all these things. And what great things they are. A grateful journal really is a wonderful idea. When things are feeling overwhelming, and for many of our friends in this economy that is the common feeling right now, it helps to remember what good things you have in your life. And I’ve found that it’s easier to remember things when they are written down. This is a gift and a practice I would like to pass along to my child(ren). Always remember your blessings! So thank you Beth for the original idea and thank you Matt for framing this blog in that way. I like this focus!

2.     A Community of Ideas: I had never followed blogs until I got pregnant. But suddenly there was a lot of information I wanted to know and it wasn’t all in the books I was reading (and trust me, I read A LOT of books while I was pregnant). So I started googling. A lot. And a lot of the google responses were from blogs that other parents and parents-to-be had posted on with similar questions. Huh. Cool, I’m not alone wondering and worrying about this symptom or that decision. After I had Kalev, I have used blogs even more. I’ve looked up suggestions for sleeping, for wall heater protections, for teething. I also started actually following blogs for the first time. Ok, not that many. Just three: Grace In the Ordinary, Jazzy Mama, and the Vanilla Sugar Blog. Grace In The Ordinary is written by my already-often-mentioned friend Beth. It is amazing. Beth looks at ordinary occurrences in her life and sees the grace in them. What a beautiful practice in mindfulness! Jazzy Mama is about parenting in the “granola” sense that I’ve come to embrace but since I did not grow up in that parenting style, nor have much exposure to it, it’s a constant learning process for me and it helps to hear from other like-minded parents. And Vanilla Sugar is about food. My other passion. Yum. Anyways, my reading other people’s blogs has helped me be a better parent, given me new ideas, and has helped me to focus on the grace I can find in a baby playing with pots and pans, a flower in a garden, or a new puppy that has so much to teach. I love the feeling of exchanging ideas with a greater community and I am happy to now be part of the exchange of information. 

3.     Creative Outlet: I have been complaining for years about my lack of creative outlet since I started on the law path. With three years of law school and three plus years of legal practice, I feel like all I do is think and breathe about who has liability for this action and how would you fight that wrong. And often they are in big, annoying legal words. And this from the person who thought she’d never actually practice law! Bleh. I’ve been craving creativity. So perhaps now I’ve found it. A way to focus my thoughts that has absolutely nothing to do with the law. I love it!

4.     Opening the Dialogue: When you’re a mindful parent, you often don’t have time to talk on the phone to your friends. My friend Sara and I used to talk about this all the time. We could talk about it because we shared an office at work. It was never on the phone. Now that she’s in Oregon, we have to make do with the occasional email or Facebook message. It’s just really hard to try to have a conversation with someone on the phone when you are watching your baby sort toys into different baskets or crawl into your lap wanting your attention. I don’t want to talk on the phone. I want to be with my baby. And there’s absolutely no way that there’s time to individually call every friend that I want to stay in touch with. That’s why I love Facebook. So easy to log on with my iphone while I’m nursing Kalev to sleep. I can quickly see what’s going on in everyone’s life and send little messages or comments so they know I’m thinking about them. And it can be any time of the day or night, not just during proper calling hours. So in addition to focusing all these thoughts running throughout my brain, this blog can help me dialogue with my friends and other parents because I’m not going to call you. Unless it’s while I am driving to or from work on my Bluetooth :-)

So Dad, there are your reasons. And the dialogue is open. I’m excited to share my thoughts regarding my practice of mindfulness and also hear from all of you about how you practice mindfulness and/or parenting. We have so much to learn from each other and it’s great to be part of the parenting club—what a great community we are!

Mindful Parenting: An Adventure in Being Present & Finding Peace

To prepare for the birth of our child, my husband and I enrolled in a Mindfulness-Based Childbirth Class. I had actually heard about it at a forum I attended for work. The key words that triggered my interest were “baby” and “reduce stress.” As anyone who knows me knows, I am one stressed out person. So I thought it would be a good class to teach me to reduce my stress and therefore be a better parent. It of course taught me way way way more than that, but its message was a whole lot more than that as well. It was all about being mindful during each second, each experience, each day, throughout your pregnancy, during your labor, and as parents. I kept associating mindfulness with being at peace—being less stressed. And for me, I think that is still a good goal. But the goal of the program, or at least the definition of mindfulness that I now understand relating to this class, is to be present at each of these moments and experiences, and to acknowledge them. Acknowledge your feelings, acknowledge that you are or are not being mindful. Well that’s actually a whole lot easier than always being at peace and stress free! I kinda like that definition (and thank you Savanna, for always reminding me when I freak out and say I’m not being mindful about something, that that acknowledgment is indeed being mindful!). But because I do tend towards pessimism and being a cranky pants, and because my main mommy idol Beth is someone who always looks towards the good in situations, my goal is to not only be present as a person and parent, but to try to look for the positive as well. My new mantra I picked up in the last few weeks that I’ve been chanting in my head, and sometimes out loud, as the baby cries in the middle of the night, as I realize how many things I have to do at work, as I have to find a back-up sitter, is “peace and patience.” That’s what I’m working towards. So the definition of mindfulness I will be working on in life, and in this blog, is being present, acknowledging my feelings (good or bad), but striving to think positive, to be at peace, to feel patient, and to remember how truly blessed we are. Hmmm kind of a big goal for 6:33 in the morning when I have a sore throat and my child hasn’t slept well in a week because he had a fever, then a nasty rash as a result of Gianotti-Crosti Syndrome (apparently a disease that a lot of Italian kids get according to google—random!), and Matt has to leave in 15 minutes to take our car to the shop to get the transmission fixed, and so on and so on …. Yes, I’m mindful that I’m really really tired, but as Kalev crawls over to me with a huge smile on his face I’m reminded again of the blessings of being a parent. So ok, time to start this day with a smile. And a cup of tea to soothe my throat :-)