Count Down to 40

I don't have much enthusiasm left for this Count Down to 40 thing. When I was dreading it, and scared of it, it seemed important to try and create the self I want to be, so I would still be young, so I wouldn't have to to look/feel/think like a 40 year old. But I am 40 years old. Or almost. I may be making peace with it, but I am going to soak every last second of being 39! Thirty nine is still young. Still Thirty-Something. Remember that show? I don't really - it was too grown up for me. Then Friends came on, and they were just my age. I loved that show - still do - right down to the inappropriate situations and all. My mom has always been appalled that I watch that show. But that show was full of lovely things. It was cheerful, the friends were really very good friends to each other for the most part. They loved each other. I never really had a group of friends like that - I've had my siblings, and therefore, never really felt the need to branch out and find a "group". Plus, when I was 20+, I had Meg, and was going to school, and working a minimum of two jobs. I didn't have time for friends.

Counting down, I think that was a way for me to wrap my mind around the whole 40 thing. My husband turned 40 - eight years ago. It didn't seem to phase him. I think he thinks I am a little nutty for having worried over it so much. He didn't think it was a big deal, but I did. I threw him a big party, it was supposed to be a surprise, but somehow it got out. We had it a whole month early, too, because I was due with a new baby just before his actual birthday. So, we had a party, ate some cake, and tons of people came with canes and reading glasses and other old people paraphernalia.  And I laughed and laughed. Now, it doesn't seem quite so funny! Poor guy - he really, really does not like to be the center of attention - I wonder why I felt compelled to do that to him?

As for all my lofty goals - some of them are important to me - they are things I need to be doing no matter how old I am. In my often chaotic world, it seems whole days slip by without any effort on my part to do for others. I worry about this, we seem so secluded right now. I know that my main focus has to be on these kids, but I feel a pull to be doing more. I think I know what that tug is, but making room for it in our lives will be hard, making room for it in our house will be darn near impossible.

As for the self improvement goals - ya know, I just don't know how to get untired. I wake up exhausted, I fall into bed, never sleep well, and get up exhausted again. This is often punctuated by small people vomiting, wetting the bed, having bad dreams, waking up coughing, or just wanting mama. I'm not complaining, though I do fantasize about sleep. So exercise - just not happening, and yes, I know it would probably help me sleep better, and have more energy. But when? Just...when?

As for being more present, I truly do think I am doing a lot better with that - if I notice something like that, I pretty much correct it right away. My babies are getting lots of books read to them every night. I spend about 45 minutes putting them to bed, reading books, and saying prayers. They are loving it, and so am I.
The middle kids and I are going to be reading A Jungle Book and Treasure Island. When I am done with the little boys, we pile into my bed and I read to them. A classic, not junk, because they read enough goofy stuff on their own. This way I know they are getting the classics, though we choose the titles together.

And my Kenzie girl, she's my right hand. She and I spend a lot of time together, and she gets me all to herself for a good portion of every evening. We like to take turns playing songs for each other, each trying to get the other to listen to her music. It's fun, it keeps me in the loop of what she is listening to, and I get to expose her to the phenomenal 80's - like Men at Work or Debby Gibson or Pat Benatar. Good stuff!

So, with this, I hope my whining over turning 40 hasn't chased you all away. I promise to stop, get back to what I wanted this blog to be - a record. A record of these beautiful little lives springing up all around me, so fast I hardly have time to watch it happening. I don't want to forget this time, when I have been so very blessed. Blessed beyond imagining. A happy home, beautiful, healthy children, a delicious and adoring husband. A loving, supportive family with brothers and sisters and parents that are always there for me. What more could a girl ask for? Not a darn thing, but what ever the Lord has in store for me, I am ready.

My Kenzie Girl

My girl, my Kenzie Rosie, turned 14 years old this weekend. When my children have a birthday, we don't spend a lot of money, or take them fancy places, or throw big parties. For the most part, anyway.Usually we have a big family party a few times a year with all the extended family, but on their actual birthday, they get the dessert item of their choice, and I sing. I sing to them all day long. I start first thing in the morning, and repeat my little happy birthday ritual over and over, until they are kinda tired of it. My little ones have even said "Mom! Stop singing!", but I don't, and I don't plan to, ever. Because it's more than just their birthday. It's the anniversary of a life long love.

When my Mackenzie was born, she was born into a blended family. A blended family that actually wasn't blending so well. And then she was born. Each of the girls had a sister, a real, related by blood sister. They were both her sister. They were finally united on at least one thing - they wanted to play with Kenzie, hold Kenzie and be a big sister to Kenzie. She came along and made us a family. Later of course, they would unite to torture and tease her, but at that moment in time an wars that were fought were about who got to hold her or whose turn was next. Typical, in my book. I was so glad for any kind of typical sibling rivalry at that point. It wasn't stressful, it was fun. It made me feel like we were finally a real family. It was all the blended issues that were so stressful.

As Kenzie grew, she became more and more lovely. Honestly, not just a mama's opinion. She was so pretty, it was almost embarrassing. People would stop us in stores and at restaurants to tell us how pretty she was. It was hard, because then, they would feel compelled to turn to the other girls and exclaim "Oh! They ALL are!" But the girls saw right through that, and they were a little jealous about all the attention she got. I can't blame them for having hurt feelings, they were pretty little, just 6 and 7 when she was born. I told them that people just love babies, and aren't shy about talking to babies. I think they grew to understand that this was at least partially true.

Now the big girls are grown, away at college and Kenzie really misses her big sisters, until they come home and drive her crazy. But they go to the movies, and have some common interests now that she is a little older.They still pick on her, and she gets annoyed with them, but they are sisters. Someday, they will all be so glad to have one another.

For now, she's still my little Kenzie Rosie, the one who made us a family. The girl who stole my heart and has yet to give it back. She's 14 now, and nearly all grown up. She'll be in high school next year, so in four short years she will be leaving me, too. Off to college to make her own way in the world. She's going to have to put up with a lot from me over the next four years. It's going to always be in my mind that she will be next to leave, so I will have to work to not smother her.

So for now, she's still my baby girl. When I look at her, I still see the little girl with the big eyes and the long, long brown hair. I think that's how I will always see her. When I stand up at her wedding to watch her dad walk her down the aisle, I know my mind will flash back to that little girl. And I'll bawl my eyes out - but, that's what mothers do.
Happy Birthday, Kenzie Girl, I love you more than you know. 

The Count Down to 40 Continues

It's next Saturday - it looms ahead of me, but for some reason, it's not bothering me so much anymore. It was, just yesterday I recoiled at the mention of it, but I didn't really feel it. I mean, I've said the words I have been saying - "Oh, no! I don't want to think about it!" and the "Can we please forget it is happening?!". But I haven't really felt them the last few days. I think... can it be? I think I might be making peace with this whole 40, your life is now half over thing.

I've been trying to analyze the daylights out of the whole aging thing - and if you know me at all, you know I tend to over analyze the daylights out of everything. I think I know why it's been bugging me so much - there are several reasons, and while they have to do with aging, they are not really about my aging.

1. My grandmother. She's 90 this year. And she's in a nursing home. Except that she doesn't know she's at a nursing home. She thinks she is at school, or at a friends house or somewhere, and is waiting anxiously for her mother and dad to come pick her up. They must be in a fright by now, you see. Watching her deteriorate has been heartbreaking. And frightening. Every little memory problem I have has me convinced that I am losing my mind - literally.

2. My mom and dad. My parents, especially my mom, who is my friend, my advocate, my champion and my cheerleader, and sometimes banker (ha!), have had some health issues the last couple of years. I hate the idea of them getting older. I want them to be young forever, and I am having a hard time with the clock ticking by.

3. My babies. Yeb is nearly two years old. While the decision to be done having babies (God willing) was a hard one, I truly think it was the right one. That doesn't mean that the kids growing up is easy. The idea of no cribs, no diapers, no nursing, no wee babe to cuddle in the night makes my heart hurt, it actually makes me tear up. To my babies, every one of you, I have LOVED EVERY LAST SECOND of your babyhoods. Even the sleeplessness. Even the crying and the endless nursing. Every bit. Please don't grow up and leave me! Okay, you can grow up and leave me, but you have to promise to come back and bring your babies. I will babysit! I have references and I will work for free!

All these things are things I cannot change. Time will continue to pass no matter how I feel about it, so I might as well get on board. I think I am ready. The thought no longer strikes fear in my heart, so that's progress, right? Besides, no matter what waits for me in the future, the Lord will be there to guide me through. What more could a 27 40 year old ask for?

Count Down to 40 - 12 Days to Go!

How am I doing with all the goals, wishes for self improvement and long lasting peace with the aging process, you are probably not wondering? Not well. I want to be one of these beautiful girls I graduated with whom I now see on Facebook nearly everyday, celebrating a 40th birthday. You know what it feels like? It feels like that movie from the 70s - The Thirty Year Olds. Remember it? Probably not, I barely do, and only because my parents were watching it one night, and my sister and I watched it, peaking around the corner from the upstairs. We weren't supposed to be watching it, but for some reason that movie has always stuck in my head. The plot was sort of Machiavellian in that the population of where ever they were killed people off once they hit 30 years of age. I don't remember much more than that, and I tried Googling it, but all I could find was this article about how 40 year old need to buy long term care insurance. Really? You've got to be kidding me. Anyway, I just am not really digging the whole "40" thing.

Honestly, do you really, really want to know what it is? While I am all for self improvement and being a better person and all that, embracing my age, feeling the wisdom - whatever - the problem I am having is that I don't want to be fat and forty. I don't. I don't want to feel like I have one foot in the grave already, and turning 40, knowing I am half way through my life, most likely, and I wasted my 20s and 30s being fat. Yep, I am that vain. I have a beautiful family, and an amazing husband. I know, we built this family during my 20s and 30s. I used 6 years of my 20s getting through college.  I did not waste that time, really. But, I always had it in my head that I would make it up to myself (the never losing all the baby weight, compounding it, etc), by being healthy and fit, and yes, wanting to make my husband drool a little at 40. Not exactly a spiritual or mature goal, is it? So, I console myself with a bowl of cereal, or something equally carbish, at 11pm, when no one should be eating.

So there you have it, web world. I have 12 days left to become the me I want to be when I am 40. I need to pray more, I need to be more present. And I need to do more for my family, household, and my beautiful Douglas. I can get so wrapped up in what needs to be done for school, bills, phone calls, appointments, work, all that stuff. I honestly could sit at my desk all the time and never be done. There are too many days when I do exactly that. And then, to distract myself, or change the subject and end the tedium, I waste some time on Facebook. Awesome.

 Enough with the negativity, that's more annoying that anything else, right? When the day rolls around, as it surely will - there doesn't seem to be any stopping time - I hope to just pretend it isn't happening, so I can be 27 in my head, and not acknowledge the day, or the number. I hate that this is bugging me so much. It's just a number. If it were someone else whining this much about it I would tell them to get over it. If there was something they didn't like, then get off their duff and change it! I need a swift kick or two.

So, goals? Really, just acceptance, or avoidance. Either one. Deciding that it's really not a big deal would be a good place to start.

Something About Mary...

Forgive me for stealing a movie title, but it's so perfect for what is running through my head. I have had, since I was a very young girl, a special love for the Blessed Mother. This is a natural part of being Catholic, of course, but I can remember the specific time when my understanding of her role, and my deep love of her began.

I went running to my mom for something, crying. I was sad, and worried. We were standing in the little kitchen of our house, and it was just before bed time. My mom bent down and was talking to me, trying to calm me down. Mom told me that whenever I was feeling nervous or anxious, to pray to the Blessed Mother. That the Blessed Mother  was a very special friend, that she knew my heart, and that I was worried, but that she could take my prayers to Jesus. How wonderful, that you can ask Christ's mother to pray for you, just as you would ask your very own mother to pray for you.

I will never forget that, as it was the start of a lifetime of praying to the Blessed Mother in earnest. I had said my Hail Mary's like I was supposed to, but never really connected my heart with it. I was little, but I had yet to really understand why I needed to pray.

The reason I was anxious, and worried that night, and have some residual anxiety and worry every year at this time still, was because my mom's brother had been killed  in a recent accident. My mother's reaction to the news was, to that point and for many, many years, the most heart breaking thing I had ever witnessed. I was sad in the way a small child is sad over such a thing. I didn't truly understand, but I was sad for my mom. I was nervous because he was so young, it didn't make sense to me. And I was sorrowful because I really did love my uncle, who was funny and played rough and tumble games with me. It was many, many Februarys ago, yet that feeling lingers like a memory you can't quite put your finger on, all month long. It's a wondering of why you feel sad, until you remember. I worry a little about my mom, I know she feels sad during this time, and I remember how she, even though she was still grieving herself, took the time to explain to me the preciousness of the Blessed Mother. That prayer to her can help heal your heart. That she, in her wisdom, will go to her Son on your behalf.  A much loved aunt of my dad's had taught my mother about Mary, and she taught me. I hope I am teaching  my children and godchildren to ask our Blessed Mother to carry their prayers to Jesus, especially in times of grief. Especially when they are parents themselves.

There have been so many times when I have known her love for me, and my children. I have memories of her, and I dream of her. I hope and pray that I will one day get to meet Our Lady. Until then, I will pray to ask for her intercession, and hope I never forget to thank her for her prayers.

Count Down to 40 - Go With the Flow

I think I may have mentioned a time or two that I tend to be a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants sort. I never really minded this - and really, I had to abandon this mentality to such an extent while in college, raising Meg, working at least 2 jobs at a time, that I embraced the living daylights out of it once I graduated. I married Douglas, graduated from college and became a stay at home mom. I had two+ kids and suddenly, I was FREE! I could plan my days and nights as I wished  - and I did. I embraced my inner hobo - often not getting dressed in real clothes, or doing much of anything other than playing with babies and barely keeping the house going. I had my bursts of cleaning and whatever, and things that just had to be done, but for the first time in years, I was actually free to do as I pleased most of the time. And I did as I pleased - with our non-existent budget, with time, and with household duties. I worked hard at being disorganized.  (I am starting to wonder why Doug kept me around!)

As time went on, and we had more babies, and began homeschooling, some, but certainly not all, or even most, of this changed. I went to my mom and dad's for dinner whenever I wanted, which was often (Doug worked afternoon shift). I played with babies, I watched tv. (Have I mentioned that I really like tv? I miss tv!)Well this went on for years and years, homeschooling, puttering around the house, and eventually I started working for TKG. Another time constraint, but I LOVED being part of my brother's fast growing company, and I loved contributing to the household.

Then - last fall we decided to enroll the kids in an online school. We weren't getting enough school done, we needed structure (ya think?), and I needed to not have to plan every little thing out. We enrolled 5 students. By the end of September I knew that this was KICKING my butt. I couldn't do it - we were doing school for 9 or 10 hours a day. So, I withdrew Luke, who was a young 5 anyway, as he was just not getting it - he wasn't ready. Going forward from there, we had 4 students, and were still doing school for far too long each day. We now have a pretty good handle on things, and Luke is starting to do some of the sweet little activities I have done with all my kindergarteners. We are now learning how to go-with-the-flow.

You might think there is not a lot of difference between flying-by-the seat-of-your-pants and going-with-the-flow. Maybe on the outside looking in, there's not. Flying-by-the-seat-of-your-pants implies a certain irresponsibility, and the freedom to be so. Its an inherent quality to the whole flying attitude, while going-with-the-flow is more of a "I'm going to relax about the things that don't matter" kind of attitude. I mean, we are still messy. There is still laundry everywhere all the time. We don't get to go to my folks' for dinner whenever we want (and not as much as I would like, honestly). But, I am learning to get small tasks done in small amounts of time. We are totally kicking school patooty, and our budget is rapidly getting under control. While we aren't running around as much as we used to, I am starting to let go of other things that I used to clamp down on, while getting more organized in other areas. We are playing, painting, making silly pretend soup (and I am not freaking over the 25 cents of wasted groceries), and I have let go of what color socks the boys wear to church (mostly). It' bizarre, I know. I didn't/don't care about laundry, or perfect housekeeping, or developing the perfect budget. I did/do care about what socks and shoes they all wear, perfect parties with plenty of food, and whether or not there is enough produce in the house at all times. Oh yeah - and all my hanging clothes have to point in the same direction, with the hanger facing in. I don't know why. The floor can be a mess, but all the hangers have to point the same way. And all my movies and cds are arranged by genré, not alphabetically. Actually, that's how I organize everything. Someone please explain this to me!

Little by little, I think I am growing up. I know that there are things that have to be done, and I am learning to not let my knee jerk reactions rule me. This will stun those of you who know me well - but while I have planned all Kenzie and Kolbe's party for their sacraments (in May), I have not yet ordered a darn thing. I sent the invitations, but I am not harassing anyone for RSVPs (yet). This is progress, baby! I have even seen a few conversations going on in different places, and knowing that I could not sway the participants, I did not join the discussion. Also progress, as I would normally jump in, rail at whomever with facts, figures and quotes from the Bible, and ignore the kids all night while I did so. Now, I am not saying that I won't still do that sometimes, because honestly, sometimes it needs to be done, but I'm going to be much more selective where I chime in. Progress. Going with the flow. It's about time, don't you think?

A little boost to my ego...

Katrina from They All Call Me Mom gave me this blog award! My first. Thanks so much, Katrina, I am so glad you enjoy my little blog. 

 The rules of the Stylish Blogger Award are:
Thank the person who gave you the award and link back to them in your post.  
Share seven things about yourself.
Award seven recently discovered new blogs.
Contact these bloggers and let them know they've received the award. 

Seven things about me that I haven't blabbed all over this blog or Facebook already? That will be a tough one - let's see:

1. I LOVE television. I really do. I don't get to see very much of it. I watch Glee once a week with my daughter and occasionally turn on Food Network or Fox News while I am in the kitchen. 

2. I stay up late - usually at least until 2a.m. or so - it takes that long to get everything done, plus, my sweet Douglas comes home around 1:30 or so and I like to be up to see him for a while before we go to bed. 

3. I am a little neurotic when it comes to parties or any gathering where food is offered. I have to have TONS of food, and I freak out a little if I don't think everything is just so. Well, more than a little. My family goes all quiet and just scrambles around following orders until everything is ready - I am THAT scary.

4. I am a serial obsessive - and yeah, I just made that up - but, I tend to get all wrapped up in/carried away with things I like. When I was little, it was Trixie Belden books, then for about 20 years, it was Oprah, then it was one blog, then another. I do it with all areas of my life, from what I read to movies I watch to what clothes I dress my kids in. It all has to be part of a set, or somehow fit together (in my brain, no one else's). Maybe a better way to put it would be that I enjoy living in a certain genré!

5. I am #3 in a line of  4 Megans. My grandmother is Megan #1, my mom is Megan#2, I am Megan #3, and my daughter is Megan#4. My grandmother and I used to always sign cards to each other with just "Love, #1" and "Love, #3". It was our little thing. I miss that.

6. I am passionate, to the point of militancy on my views on several issues. I think that militancy tends to turn people off, so they cannot hear my message, and I battle between toning it down to be heard, and just exploding. - Mellow I am not.

7. I love my husband. (This should have been number 1!). I mean, I really, really love him. He  is just like standing on solid ground after teetering endlessly off a cliff. I love that he has green eyes, he is big and tall, thinks I am corny and loves me anyway, and he makes really beautiful babies. The end. 

Seven bloggers I have recently discovered and LOVE!

St. Elizabeth Anne Seton Exchange

Single Dad  Laughing

Habitat 4 Insanity

Farm Girl Follies

The Apple Cider Mill

Castle In The Sea

Finding Wonder In The Mundane

Check them out - they are all pretty fabulous!