He Takes My Heart With Him

Whoa! What a couple of weeks!

Back, again. Logging on, I felt such a familiarity and comfort. My little piece of the world where I am me, not always "wife" or "mom." We have had a crazy couple of weeks and I need this breather.

I took the girls to Walt Disney World for vacation. Caitlin, at almost 8 1/2 years old, was reaching that precarious age where she turns her nose up at "childish" things, but has no idea where she belongs, yet. I grieved to think that by the time the boys were old enough for Walt Disney World (WDW), Caitlin would find it . . . boring. I longed to bring her when she would feel the magic and when I would be able to see her eyes light up with joy and enchantment. I also have taken the position that I will never, ever bring a toddler to WDW. There is a ban on bottles and diapers and naptimes for the Magic Kingdom. So, I found myself with a just-turned-one-year-old, who is at least two years away from a WDW visit, and an eight-year-old, who is too close to the passage into pre-teen. I asked my husband what he would think of me taking the girls, while he stayed home with the boys.

Proving, once again, that he is truly my prince, he embraced the idea. He looked forward to spending time with his sons, being their sole, responsible parent. He strode about the house, proclaiming, "Just the boys. Boy things. Man things." He planned wrestling events, tickling fiascos, and trips to Home Depot.

And, so, we went. We added my sister-in-law and her two oldest kids, Jake (6 yrs) and Whitney (4 yrs), who my kids adore, and grandma, of course. We drove from Lansing to Chicago and flew to Orlando. Five full days of bliss and magic and dreams. Caitlin flung her arms around 7 foot tall, costumed characters and grinned at me, behind the camera. Ashley, dazzled by the Princess Celebration at Cinderella's Castle, eagerly tried ride after ride. The cousins played and giggled and shared a time that we will never be able to redo, and which we will never forget.

Coming home, we closed on a new house the second day back. We have spent the last week moving, cleaning, and organizing. Three of our four chiidren are sick. The kids are having a hard time sleeping. Jack's mole on the side of his face has gained two tiny dots and now he must return to the plastic surgeon for more surgery. . .

And, yet, I'm content. I feel settled and grateful and happy. I read an article about mothers and stress and how we forget to take pleasure in our lives and in our families because we are always looking at what to do next or what to change, either about our lives, homes, or children. And I realized. I spent a lot of time, even at Disneyworld, trying to train my children to wait patiently, to stand still in line, to not jostle or talk too loudly. All are valuable lessons, but I sometimes forgot just to watch my girls and marvel at them and enjoy them and their excitement, vitality, and energy for this world. I don't want to make that mistake, again. And knowing that gives me such a sense of contentment. A license to enjoy my children, without always thinking of what I should be teaching them next. Bring on the finger paint!