Embracing the Season

I had meant to write this after the kids were asleep, maybe with a cup of hot tea and a candle and some Norah Jones in the background of my straight bedroom. Matt is gone most Sundays, so the plan of having some quiet, tranquil time to myself has propelled me through the "single-mom" evening. My reality right now is a far cry from that expectation. I am sitting in a totally trashed bedroom, kids clothes and shoes littering almost every walking space. Overdue library books are beside the very unmade bed that acted as a trampoline this morning. I didn't have the energy to make tea for myself after I wrestled everyone into pajamas, and I totally forgot to brush teeth. Instead of the sweet melodies of Norah, I am distracted by the 5 year-old and the 3 year-old singing loudly from their beds. They know that I don't want to walk downstairs to really enforce my threats, so they are still making noise and (probably) getting out of their beds (and, yes, I am choosing to ignore it), even though they were supposed to be asleep an hour ago. The only candle burning is my emotional energy which is about down to the last few centimeters of burnable wick (and when the flame goes out, 'explosion de madre' happens, which is not a pretty sight). This is my third frustrated attempt at uploading the pictures AND the camera reset the date and printed January, 2003, permanently on all of the photos. Once again, the reality of this season is hard to wrap my arms around, hard to enjoy sometimes in the midst of the living of it.

Seasons

I have learned from my three years living in the mountains of Colorado that the kid activities that you do have to change with the seasonal weather. In the cold of winter, we drive to the indoor pool on Saturday nights. We hit the play places at the mall and at Burger King. We do movie nights. We go the library, and, yes, we watch a lot more television. But in the summer and fall in Colorado, we are outside from dawn till dusk. We hike, we play at parks, we walk in creeks, we fish. You won't find us too often at the McDonald's play place in the middle of July. I've learned that you embrace what the season offers, and you do that as much as you can, because a different season offers something else that you need to take advantage of. February is bitterly cold and there's no hope of bike rides, but hot chocolate and fires offer some good memories, too.

My season of life and motherhood consists of: interrupted sleep, little communication time with my husband, constant messes, continual correction and talking and playing and teaching, frustrations of time, endless tests of patience, car seats that are too heavy and bibs that stay messy and diapers that are always needing changing just as we need to walk out the door. But, it also offers: jumping on the trampoline, cheering for successful bike rides, noise and chaos and LIFE, hugs, tickling wars and playing games, "freezer moments", relationships that matter and memories that shape and purpose that is lasting. This is my season right now--the season of babies and young children. A season of the past held romantic dates with my husband and late-nights out with friends and a clean house and the ability to get places on time. And a season of the future might hold that again, but the more time I spend frustrated that the things to enjoy in THAT season aren't the ones maybe to enjoy in THIS season, the more time I waste being discontent and depressed. There's no use insisting on huddling up inside McDonald's with hot chocolate in July, just like it's crazy to insist on playing in the creek in December. Each season has its joys and its struggles. Much of my own health and happiness is going to come from how well I can learn to embrace this season I find myself in, whole package, recognizing that the future seasons might find myself wishing I was right where I am right now.


With that said, whatever your season of life, singlness or newlywed or parenting teenagers or empty-nesters, may you enjoy the season for the unique gifts it has to offer you. And also enjoy these pictures of our Fall here in Woodland Park. And don't be deceived, it really wasn't January 1, 2003, when they were taken.