Summer is drawing to a close and lately I have been doing quite a bit of wondering. I have just returned from as close as I could possibly ever get to a modern day Walden experience. You remember that book by Henry David Thoreau where he goes into the woods and doesn't do much more than think and write. Well, that was sort of me.
Spending the last 30 days with my family in one of the most remote parts of Western North Carolina in a log cabin on steroids, I had a chance to do a lot of thinking. Not thinking about "what is the meaning of life?" sort of stuff. But thinking about what fresh wild blackberries that I picked this morning tasted like. Or contemplating the aqua blue of thousands of what looked Blue Morpho butterflies in a mountain meadow. But the best thought I had was how delicious it is to do cannonballs off of a dock into a freshwater mountain lake.
It was funny to me that when I had a chance to completely unplug from e-mail, internet, cell phones and modern day obligations, my thoughts were not of deeply spiritual things, but of things sweet and simple.
I think this was because prior to Walden, I had met my limit. Caring for my mom after two consecutive hip replacement surgeries and 3 dislocations in 30 days was emotionally and physically draining. Hosting a family reunion for 40 of my family members was a huge milestone, but I felt overwhelmed by trying to balance the needs with everyone and those of my own. And to add to all of it, this summer I lost one of my dearest friends to melanoma cancer of the liver. Watching her slip away a little more each week and then finally leaving us, left me flooded with grief.
So when I went away to be like Henry, my goal was to treasure it up. To find out what it would be like to completely focus on myself, my son and my husband. To really listen, to do things slowly. To read without watching the clock, to eat and cook with pleasure, to not know what day it was or have any agenda. I have to say it was wonderful. It was exactly what I needed. And when I came back I was ready to let the world flow back in because I had a chance to sort it out.
If I had to sum up "what I learned on summer vacation" I would say in one word "savor." To savor what is before me whether it's fresh tomatoes, holding hands or a good laugh. Because if I can learn to savor the little beautiful things in life, maybe that can carry me through the hard times.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Momma's Gone to Paris
The best laid plans for a meaningful, enriching summer are not going according to plan. My lovely picture of warm, happy times with my family and husband, a slower pace to my days and finally moving ahead on my book about summer aren't really working out.
It's been a deep breath sort of summer so far. My days have been filled with caring for my mom recovering from surgery. Rushing to and fro to hospitals and rehab, doctor appointments and picking up medicine. Then, dropping my son off to camp early so I can shoehorn some free time in my day. Visiting and praying with my friend who has melanoma cancer in the liver. Oh, and did I tell you I was planning a family reunion too? Very big deep breath.
Last night as I was staring at the TV not really watching, my son came to me way past his bedtime to say, "mom, isn't it my bedtime?"
Now what came next cannot be helped -- the exhaustion must have taken over. I explained that I wasn't his mom. That his real mom had gone to Paris shopping for hats and perfume. The person sitting here watching "America's Got Talent" was really his "sub-mom" filling in to appear as if she was really his mom. So he needed to put himself to bed because the sub-mom didn't know the true ritual anyway.
Mr. Smarty Pants didn't buy the mom went to Paris bit. I put him to bed and ended up falling asleep right next to him. I guess his persistent reminder of bedtime was truly what I needed anyways -- not more TV.
So my summer doesn't look like a magazine cover. Oh well. At least I get to be a blessing to my mom, to truly be present with my friend, to take care of my family, to snuggle with a six year old while giving myself the rest I need.
This season might be my deep breath summer where I really learn to take it only a day at a time. That'as all we have anyways.
It's been a deep breath sort of summer so far. My days have been filled with caring for my mom recovering from surgery. Rushing to and fro to hospitals and rehab, doctor appointments and picking up medicine. Then, dropping my son off to camp early so I can shoehorn some free time in my day. Visiting and praying with my friend who has melanoma cancer in the liver. Oh, and did I tell you I was planning a family reunion too? Very big deep breath.
Last night as I was staring at the TV not really watching, my son came to me way past his bedtime to say, "mom, isn't it my bedtime?"
Now what came next cannot be helped -- the exhaustion must have taken over. I explained that I wasn't his mom. That his real mom had gone to Paris shopping for hats and perfume. The person sitting here watching "America's Got Talent" was really his "sub-mom" filling in to appear as if she was really his mom. So he needed to put himself to bed because the sub-mom didn't know the true ritual anyway.
Mr. Smarty Pants didn't buy the mom went to Paris bit. I put him to bed and ended up falling asleep right next to him. I guess his persistent reminder of bedtime was truly what I needed anyways -- not more TV.
So my summer doesn't look like a magazine cover. Oh well. At least I get to be a blessing to my mom, to truly be present with my friend, to take care of my family, to snuggle with a six year old while giving myself the rest I need.
This season might be my deep breath summer where I really learn to take it only a day at a time. That'as all we have anyways.
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Summer Wishing
Now that it's the first week in June and summer stretches before us, it's a great time to make "summer wishes."
This little project is my favorite thing to think about before summer gets too jam packed with BBQ invites, summer camps and vacations. So while things are still in the precious "here comes summer" phase, I like to brainstorm wishes for the season ahead.
This week, I asked my 6 year old son to join in the fun by getting out a piece of paper and either coloring or writing his ten wishes for summer. In an effort to be helpful, I even tried to impose my summer wishes on him (in case he needed ideas of course.)
My oh-so-ambitious suggestions for him included the following: a trip to Carowinds, learning to fish, white water rafting, horse-back riding, going camping in the mountains, learning how to rock climb, going stargazing, etc. After about the 10th suggestion, he looked up at me with irritation and said, "Mom, I don't need ideas. I already have my own!"
So after much study and deliberation with the Crayolas, he came to me to present his summer wishes. I was humbled at his list. It included things like "playing with mom in the back yard, going to the movies, turning 7 and having fun outside."
In my Grand Canyon-style planning, I wanted big and amazing things for him. My son presented me with what he wanted. To be great, it doesn't need to be grand, it can be simple and lovely. In fact, it's even better when it is.
And isn't that what summer is all about -- treasuring up the pure, essential bounty blooming in our lives.
So in keeping with this notion of bounty and pure goodness, here are my wishes for summer. I invite you to create your own!
My Summer Wishes
1. Spend more time in the back yard playing with my son.
2. Savor my summer garden by noticing it's changes day by day.
3. Go to a baseball game and eat hot dogs.
3. Learn something new (maybe how to fish)
4. Take my son to the movies.
5. Re-read Gifts from the Sea by Anne Morrow Lindbergh.
6. Watch my favorite summer movie "The Sand Lot" with my son.
7. Go to the farmer's market to experience summer's bounty.
8. Roast marshmellows over a real fire.
9. Camp out in the back yard.
10. Treasure up the wonder of the season by being grateful every day.
This little project is my favorite thing to think about before summer gets too jam packed with BBQ invites, summer camps and vacations. So while things are still in the precious "here comes summer" phase, I like to brainstorm wishes for the season ahead.
This week, I asked my 6 year old son to join in the fun by getting out a piece of paper and either coloring or writing his ten wishes for summer. In an effort to be helpful, I even tried to impose my summer wishes on him (in case he needed ideas of course.)
My oh-so-ambitious suggestions for him included the following: a trip to Carowinds, learning to fish, white water rafting, horse-back riding, going camping in the mountains, learning how to rock climb, going stargazing, etc. After about the 10th suggestion, he looked up at me with irritation and said, "Mom, I don't need ideas. I already have my own!"
So after much study and deliberation with the Crayolas, he came to me to present his summer wishes. I was humbled at his list. It included things like "playing with mom in the back yard, going to the movies, turning 7 and having fun outside."
In my Grand Canyon-style planning, I wanted big and amazing things for him. My son presented me with what he wanted. To be great, it doesn't need to be grand, it can be simple and lovely. In fact, it's even better when it is.
And isn't that what summer is all about -- treasuring up the pure, essential bounty blooming in our lives.
So in keeping with this notion of bounty and pure goodness, here are my wishes for summer. I invite you to create your own!
My Summer Wishes
1. Spend more time in the back yard playing with my son.
2. Savor my summer garden by noticing it's changes day by day.
3. Go to a baseball game and eat hot dogs.
3. Learn something new (maybe how to fish)
4. Take my son to the movies.
5. Re-read Gifts from the Sea by Anne Morrow Lindbergh.
6. Watch my favorite summer movie "The Sand Lot" with my son.
7. Go to the farmer's market to experience summer's bounty.
8. Roast marshmellows over a real fire.
9. Camp out in the back yard.
10. Treasure up the wonder of the season by being grateful every day.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
End of School Year Mommy Blues
Right about now, I should be singing that Alice Cooper song "School's Out For Summer." But instead I feel like letting out a deep blue sigh.
In a matter of days my first grader will be a rising second grader and that is farther away from kindergarden than I would like. I know that sounds dumb. I should be thrilled. We worked hard this year, we mastered our math fact families and learned about Ancient Rome, read great books and learned so many interesting things. It probably is about time to move on. Yet like a good book that I don't want to end, suddenly I'm realizing it's coming to an end.
This week I sat with another mom over a foo-foo breakfast and we were both joking about how we have to cram everything fun into our last week of freedom. And in some ways, our summer days do get taken over with camps, vacations, family visits and other priorities. But it's more than a schedule change, it's about seeing a chapter come to a close.
These days feel like treasure. That probably sounds corny. But I love, love, love that my son says mom "kiss me before carpool gets here!" Or bounds into the car to tell me all about the special thing that happened today at school. Or beams with pride that he received the "Industriousness Award" at school. (never mind that he can't pronounce it and has no idea what it means, he's still the glowing with joy.)
I adore this time and I don't want it to change. But it will.
Selfishly, I guess I like the certainty of my days with my son. Or perhaps I'm overwhelmed by having to conjur up the same amount of learning opportunities and joy he gets from school. I think it comes down to the fact that he is growing up and the end of the school year is the milestone that says it out loud.
So I let out my deep sigh and I smile with the other parents as we celebrate all that our kids have gathered up this year. And in one moment, the page is turned.
In a matter of days my first grader will be a rising second grader and that is farther away from kindergarden than I would like. I know that sounds dumb. I should be thrilled. We worked hard this year, we mastered our math fact families and learned about Ancient Rome, read great books and learned so many interesting things. It probably is about time to move on. Yet like a good book that I don't want to end, suddenly I'm realizing it's coming to an end.
This week I sat with another mom over a foo-foo breakfast and we were both joking about how we have to cram everything fun into our last week of freedom. And in some ways, our summer days do get taken over with camps, vacations, family visits and other priorities. But it's more than a schedule change, it's about seeing a chapter come to a close.
These days feel like treasure. That probably sounds corny. But I love, love, love that my son says mom "kiss me before carpool gets here!" Or bounds into the car to tell me all about the special thing that happened today at school. Or beams with pride that he received the "Industriousness Award" at school. (never mind that he can't pronounce it and has no idea what it means, he's still the glowing with joy.)
I adore this time and I don't want it to change. But it will.
Selfishly, I guess I like the certainty of my days with my son. Or perhaps I'm overwhelmed by having to conjur up the same amount of learning opportunities and joy he gets from school. I think it comes down to the fact that he is growing up and the end of the school year is the milestone that says it out loud.
So I let out my deep sigh and I smile with the other parents as we celebrate all that our kids have gathered up this year. And in one moment, the page is turned.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Treasuring Tortillas
What's your emergency meal? Mine is a tortilla.
When I say "emergency meal" I mean "I'm so hungry that I could eat my arm if I don't get something in a jiffy."
I like to cook them directly on the stove (no pan). Flipping them quickly back and forth, I warm them until their browned bubble spots become a bit burned. Next I slather with gobs of butter and roll them into a handy tube for quick eating. My 6 year old son even loves tortillas and likes to chomp faces out of them -- biting holes for eyes, nose and mouth spots. I know this sounds weird, but he likes to wear his "tortilla face" just for a little while before he eats it. What can I say? It's all for the love of the tortilla.
I personally treasure them so much that I wrote an entire essay about tortillas. Actually it was more about a lovely lady named Hope who made them by hand and taught me as a kid to appreciate their humble goodness.
Carolina Woman Magazine recently selected this essay, "Hope's Tortillas" as an Honorable Mention for their annual Writing Contest. You can check it out at www.carolinawoman.com/writing_winners.htm#honor1
Yeah for tortillas!
When I say "emergency meal" I mean "I'm so hungry that I could eat my arm if I don't get something in a jiffy."
I like to cook them directly on the stove (no pan). Flipping them quickly back and forth, I warm them until their browned bubble spots become a bit burned. Next I slather with gobs of butter and roll them into a handy tube for quick eating. My 6 year old son even loves tortillas and likes to chomp faces out of them -- biting holes for eyes, nose and mouth spots. I know this sounds weird, but he likes to wear his "tortilla face" just for a little while before he eats it. What can I say? It's all for the love of the tortilla.
I personally treasure them so much that I wrote an entire essay about tortillas. Actually it was more about a lovely lady named Hope who made them by hand and taught me as a kid to appreciate their humble goodness.
Carolina Woman Magazine recently selected this essay, "Hope's Tortillas" as an Honorable Mention for their annual Writing Contest. You can check it out at www.carolinawoman.com/writing_winners.htm#honor1
Yeah for tortillas!
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Momma the Trucker
Today I feel like a trucker. Or at least what I think it might be like to be a trucker. This week so far I have spent more time in my car than a mom should be allowed. The mommy snap quotient is mighty high.
I don't know what it is about May, but activities and events seem to be coming at lightning speed. April is this lovely, leisurely walk through the days and May is a knock down marathon of activities to cram in before the end of the school year.
There's the ferrying back and forth to school, carpool kids dropoff, field trips, groceries, the almighty Target visit, grandma to the doctor, dog to the doctor and pretty soon momma's going to need a doctor.
I'm working on not being a whiner about it. I'm trying to move my mind from "I have to" to "I get to." The thinking that I don't "have" to drive my son to school, but I am blessed with a car, an amazing son and a chance to connect with him before his day begins. And all these errands, instead of feeling overwhelmed, to move my thinking to -- this is the way I honor my family by taking great care of them and using this time to listen to my Creator as I go about my day.
It's so easy to focus on the negative and stay stuck in that -- my lovely young friend has inoperable liver cancer, my dog is dying of melanoma, my mom has to go through hip surgery again and I'm not sure how she can pay for it.
But as my buddy Room Parent says "good always wins." I have a strong healthy body, I have a wonderful church family, a dynamic mixture of friends, a beautiful son and loving husband. I am surrounded by so much goodness. And complaining about that seems shallow.
So for now, I'm a temporary trucker. My aim is to be a joyful one.
I don't know what it is about May, but activities and events seem to be coming at lightning speed. April is this lovely, leisurely walk through the days and May is a knock down marathon of activities to cram in before the end of the school year.
There's the ferrying back and forth to school, carpool kids dropoff, field trips, groceries, the almighty Target visit, grandma to the doctor, dog to the doctor and pretty soon momma's going to need a doctor.
I'm working on not being a whiner about it. I'm trying to move my mind from "I have to" to "I get to." The thinking that I don't "have" to drive my son to school, but I am blessed with a car, an amazing son and a chance to connect with him before his day begins. And all these errands, instead of feeling overwhelmed, to move my thinking to -- this is the way I honor my family by taking great care of them and using this time to listen to my Creator as I go about my day.
It's so easy to focus on the negative and stay stuck in that -- my lovely young friend has inoperable liver cancer, my dog is dying of melanoma, my mom has to go through hip surgery again and I'm not sure how she can pay for it.
But as my buddy Room Parent says "good always wins." I have a strong healthy body, I have a wonderful church family, a dynamic mixture of friends, a beautiful son and loving husband. I am surrounded by so much goodness. And complaining about that seems shallow.
So for now, I'm a temporary trucker. My aim is to be a joyful one.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Super Secret Decoder Manual for Moms
Wouldn't it be great to have a "super secret decoder manual" for moms on need to know advice? Maybe even a ring that makes us invisible and a neat outfit to match.
The next best thing is available from www.motheringheights.net in an online anthology with an inspiring collection of essays on advice that you wish you had received as a mom. (ring and outfit sold separately). Just in time for Mother's Day, the online anthology features writers from across the globe as well as small town USA (that would be me.)
Shameless self promotion here -- you can check out my anthology submission called "Wearing the Ruby Slippers" at http://www.motheringheights.net/2nd-annual-mothers-day-online/2008/4/3/wearing-the-ruby-slippers-by-cara-mclauchlan.html.
Here are more details on the Mother's Day Anthology Collection...
The 2nd Annual Mothering Heights Mother’s Day Anthology, a hilarious and poignant online collection of essays on motherhood, debuts May 1st, 2008 on the popular website, MotheringHeights.net. The Anthology is a culmination of the 2nd Annual Mother’s Day Essay Contest held by Christine Fugate, the writer of the Mothering Heights syndicated column and blog. More than one hundred entries from Israel, Germany, Australia, and thirty U.S. states were submitted to this year’s contest. Thirty-two essays were chosen for inclusion in the book The Mothering Heights Manual for Motherhood, Vol. 1: What we wish we knew before we became a short order cook, shuttle driver, laundress MOTHER, which will be released May 15th, 2008. Additional essays submitted to the essay contest were invited to be a part of the online Mother’s Day Anthology.
“I wanted this to be a celebration of motherhood – and for readers to laugh,” says Fugate, editor of the Anthology. “But some of the essays were so powerful, they had to be included. While we moms need to laugh, we can also use a good cry.” Highlights of the online Anthology include essays on how to avoid being a Stump Mom, the search for parenting instructions, and quenching the desire to be a Mother-Goddess-Lioness.
The 2nd Annual Mothering Heights Mother’s Day Anthology will be debut May 1st at MotheringHeights.net. The Mothering Heights Manual for Motherhood, Volume 1: What we wish we knew before we became a short order cook, shuttle driver, laundress Mother,edited by Christine Fugate (trade paperback, $12.95 Mothering Heights Press, 2008) will be available May 11th at MotheringHeights.net and June 15th at Amazon.com and bookstores.
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The next best thing is available from www.motheringheights.net in an online anthology with an inspiring collection of essays on advice that you wish you had received as a mom. (ring and outfit sold separately). Just in time for Mother's Day, the online anthology features writers from across the globe as well as small town USA (that would be me.)
Shameless self promotion here -- you can check out my anthology submission called "Wearing the Ruby Slippers" at http://www.motheringheights.net/2nd-annual-mothers-day-online/2008/4/3/wearing-the-ruby-slippers-by-cara-mclauchlan.html.
Here are more details on the Mother's Day Anthology Collection...
The 2nd Annual Mothering Heights Mother’s Day Anthology, a hilarious and poignant online collection of essays on motherhood, debuts May 1st, 2008 on the popular website, MotheringHeights.net. The Anthology is a culmination of the 2nd Annual Mother’s Day Essay Contest held by Christine Fugate, the writer of the Mothering Heights syndicated column and blog. More than one hundred entries from Israel, Germany, Australia, and thirty U.S. states were submitted to this year’s contest. Thirty-two essays were chosen for inclusion in the book The Mothering Heights Manual for Motherhood, Vol. 1: What we wish we knew before we became a short order cook, shuttle driver, laundress MOTHER, which will be released May 15th, 2008. Additional essays submitted to the essay contest were invited to be a part of the online Mother’s Day Anthology.
“I wanted this to be a celebration of motherhood – and for readers to laugh,” says Fugate, editor of the Anthology. “But some of the essays were so powerful, they had to be included. While we moms need to laugh, we can also use a good cry.” Highlights of the online Anthology include essays on how to avoid being a Stump Mom, the search for parenting instructions, and quenching the desire to be a Mother-Goddess-Lioness.
The 2nd Annual Mothering Heights Mother’s Day Anthology will be debut May 1st at MotheringHeights.net. The Mothering Heights Manual for Motherhood, Volume 1: What we wish we knew before we became a short order cook, shuttle driver, laundress Mother,edited by Christine Fugate (trade paperback, $12.95 Mothering Heights Press, 2008) will be available May 11th at MotheringHeights.net and June 15th at Amazon.com and bookstores.
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