FIVE

There is something about this month that just pushes my buttons and challenges me. It is not just the holidays. My middle child Oliver celebrates his birthday every December. Between that and all of the mushy gushy Hallmark, Cheerio and Coca Cola commercials my emotions are running wild. There is just not enough tissues to go around folks.

This year Oliver turned five. For some reason five is just hard. It pops up and feels like a big surprise.

Let me tell you about why 5 is wonderful. Five is:

• Painting
• Cutting with scissors
• Legos Legos Legos
• Snuggling in PJs
• Reading Dr. Seuss and Curious George
• Learning your alphabet
• Writing your name
• Building forts
• Being fascinated by bubbles and fireworks
• Singing songs
• Love of animals and nature
• Cheesy knock knock jokes
• Laughter over silly things

Five isn't easy either. Five is also:

• Not sharing with your sister
• Or your brother
• Wardrobe battles
• Stubbornness
• Temper tantrums over the.smallest.thing.ever
• Not uh. Uh huh. Not uh. Uh huh...
• Insisting on using the ninja turtles plate
• One more drink of water
• I don't want to

Five is being newly independent and wanting to do it all.
However, they still sometimes hold your hand. Sometimes they even admit they want your help. Best of all, they still think you are the cooler than any superhero and better than any toy all the money in the world can buy. Most of the time.

When they turn five they are almost ready for kindergarten and suddenly it feels like they will be off to their first prom. Then you blink and they are off to college or to their first job. Sounds dramatic but that is how five feels. Nothing slows them down. All you want is for time to stand still.

We celebrated Oliver's birthday early this year. We had a little sledding party with a lot of fun.

 

We had little mugs of hot cocoa and chocolates and marshmallows and candy canes for goodie bags. All the kids took one home to warm up after our fun in the snow.

I made simple little hot cocoa cupcakes. They turned out great, and of course I dropped a full tray of them on the floor. Twice actually. About two hours before the party. Good thing I made extras. Also, it was good that no one was home when this happened. Mommy was not happy. I *possibly* let out some words that shall not be written in this blog.

We decorated with little paper snowflakes that the kids made earlier in the week. It was our fun craft for the week. Making snowflakes with three kids means not a single one is alike.

The kids decorated cookies and had hot cocoa in-between sledding runs. There were lots of sprinkles on my floor. There probably are some still there actually.

Everyone went home. I caught my breath finally. After all the cake and presents and after all of our fun I realized he was going to be 5.

I just want five to stay. I want it to last a little longer. My kids sometimes frustrate me and leave me exhausted. I love them though no matter what.

If there is anything I want to remember about five it is all simple & fun things we do. Fun is not elaborate. It doesn't cost a bunch of money. It is simple moments where we just spend time together. Usually at home together.

I want more of that for five.

Life is a gift

I remember the first time I found a gray hair. It was a few years ago. It was a big surprise and I wasn't ready to admit I was you know...older. It made me panic.

Call it vanity but I fought with that hair. I wrestled with it. I was not ready to admit that I wouldn't always be young. I didn't accept it as beautiful. I was not ready to face the idea that I would one day grow old and face death. That gray hair was ugly because it was stealing time. Each day that passed was one less day I had to live.

I ended up chasing more days and seeking more time. My life became a rush. One constant blur of me trying to squeeze out whatever I could. I had to get the most out of life. What I had was not enough. I was fighting time. Any obstacles I would conquer no matter the cost. I wanted to do it all.

I’m late, I’m late for  A very important date. No time to say hello, good-bye,  I’m late, I’m late, I’m late I’m late and when I wave,  I lose the time I save. My fuzzy ears and whiskers  Took me too much time to shave. I run and then I hop, hop, hop,  I wish that I could fly. There’s danger if I dare to  Stop and here’s a reason why: I’m over-due, I’m in a rabbit stew.  Can’t even say good-bye, hello, I’m late, I’m late, I’m late.
~ The White Rabbit, Alice in Wonderland

Everywhere I went I was like the rabbit in Alice in Wonderland. I was late. Rush rush rush. Always somewhere to be. Something to do. Never did I think to slow down.

This way of life started to pour into my relationships. Into my marriage. Into my parenting. My friendships. Our schedule was overloaded, I was tired. Trying to do it all. We would rush out the door, irritated with each other. Never really appreciating each other.

The thing about fighting time is you can't win. Chasing time makes it escape faster. Time slips away, you are older and you haven't learned anything. Nothing changes. You end up out of breath. Overwhelmed. Our society encourages this, tells us it is normal. All part of life. Being busy is encouraged. People would ask me how I was and what I had been up to. I would reply, "Busy, just been busy."

I was attempting to seize the day. Carpe Diem!

The thing is, living life so busy sometimes makes you forget the important things. In the rush for more time you lose time. You could say aging forced me to face the idea of death. This challenged me. What ended up happening was something I can't really explain.

Somewhere along the way my idea of life changed. Each day is a gift. Each wrinkle and each stray little gray hair is beautiful. Each stretch mark on my belly. They represent so much of my life. They represent so many blessings. The stretch marks are love scars of my three children. The wrinkles tell the seasons of my life. My changing hair mark the change in me.

"I watch the hands move grace on the clock face. I'm growing older. These children growing up. But time is not running out. This day is not a sieve, losing time. With each passing minute, each passing year, there's the deepening awareness that I am filling, gaining time. We stand on the brink of eternity."  --Ann Voskamp

Every day that I grow older is sacred. Aging marks the passing of time in my life. Days are blessings that count out all of my life. They sing out my life song. They are beauty. They are wisdom. They are understanding.

Every day is a gift waiting to be unwrapped. I unwrap it slowly and enjoy time. Every day is a step towards more time. Each day fills my life with joy. I am not chasing time. There is fullness in this moment, in the time that I have been blessed with.

“The clock is running. Make the most of today. Time waits for no man. Yesterday is history. Tomorrow is a mystery. Today is a gift. That's why it is called the present.” --Alice Morse Earle

I don't fight time anymore. I embrace it. I cherish it. I don't feel the need to capture as much time as possible. Time is a gift. Time is a blessing when I am fully present. When I slow down I have more than enough time.

When I slow down life is different. Time almost stops. A conversation with a friend becomes life changing. Playtime with my kids becomes revolutionary. A sunset on fall leaves is awe inspiring. Joys big and small become priceless. Trials have perspective that make their burden lighter. My soul feels different. Full.

All is well. All is good.

It changes me. Transforms me.

Today I have a few more gray hairs. I have a few more wrinkles. When I look in the mirror they make me smile. They are beautiful. When I see my reflection I am reminded. I am reminded to slow down. To actually live life instead of chasing it. When I remember to live this way everything about life is different.

Life is a gift.