?People are always saying that marriage is about compromise. It was one of the things I figured I would be good at because I knew the theory by heart. Like the way I thought mothering would come naturally. As it usually goes in life, I knew less than I thought I did. I’d like to make a list and a plan and read a book and then know it all and do it all perfectly. Regrettably, it’s not that easy. ?It’s not a big and noble action.
It’s in the little things, and those make up the big things.
And so the thing is that at home, my daddy always did our finances.
Mike’s Mommy always did their finances.
This created some interesting expectations and conversations in the beginning of our marriage.
At first I flat-out refused. Then I repented because the guilt kept me awake and I enjoy my sleep, thank-you-very-much, so I grudgingly and grumpily opened the evil, horned, fire-breathing thing otherwise known as Excel.
I did okay for a few months and I learned how to pay bills and neatly put all the numbers in the boring, white little squares.
Then I got a baby and […]
He ran up to me excitedly, holding out his gift. A little clover.
I put it with the pile of other gifts. A dandelion without a stem, a buttercup, a leaf and handfull of grass. I did a double-take. “Is that a 4-leaved clover?”
It wasn’t. It only had 3 leaves so in the pile it went.
And after a minute, out it came. I pressed it carefully between the pages of our marriage Bible and then I framed it.
It’s standing on the dresser, small and oridinary and pretty, the face?of all my 3-leaved clover moments.?Because they are quite wonderful, really.
Someday I’ll find a 4-leaved clover to go beside it, for all the special moments in life. The day Mike asked me to be his girlfriend, and the day he asked me to be his wife. The day we said I do. Those painful but?terribly wonderful days on which my 3 little boys were born.
I don’t forget those days very often, though. I don’t need all that many reminders, although I did forget our wedding anniversary last year.
It’s the 3-leaved clover moments that are the forgotten ones.?The moments out of which the bulk of […]
27 years ago I was born. I don’t know when I stopped lying awake for hours, butterflies in my stomach because tomorrow was my birthday.
Although I still like parties and gifts and celebrations, it is not the momenteous occasion it once was. Worthy of hours of unlost sleep. Not a lot of things are worth that. The Memoir of Life series, to be sure. Calls with friends overseas, sometimes. Talks with sisters and friends. Babies, although I don’t always think so the moment they wake me up, they are always worth it anyway. But it stops there. I mean, not even chocolate makes the cut anymore.
However that may be, a few days ago I turned 27.
It was the most anticlimactic birthday of my life, and also a really good day – in a very quiet way.
I got up a little later then usual, just in time to sort of get dressed and help juggle the boys off to school fed and decently clothed. I am not brave enough to let them pick their own clothes yet. Especially on rainy days. They would go in sleeveless shirts and shorts if I let them, the sunloving little urchins.
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A few days ago an interview about being a stay-at-home-mom came on the dutch website Het Moederfront. Because Celeste asked, here is the english translation with many thanks to my friend Meredith who did a terrific job at translating. Thanks!
Naomi (26) studied nursing. After a quick and difficult pregnancy, she remained home fulltime with her child. Naomi is married to Mike and they have three children together.
Was it an easy or difficult decision to become a fulltime mom?? I never considered the combination of working and motherhood, so it was definitely an easy decision.
I used to be a Mennonite. This might have played a role in my choice to be a stay at home mom. Every mother stays at home with the children in the Amish Mennonite community where I grew up.
On the other side, I probably would have done it anyway. Even before we became Mennonite my mom stayed home with us. And ultimately, she?s been my inspiration for doing the same.:)
Would you mind briefly sharing something about being a Mennonite?? A few months before I was born my parents became Evangelical?Christians. When I was 7 we visited the Amish Mennonites, who […]
My tulips are brave in the wind. It nearly forces them to touch the ground when it blows at its hardest. They look quite fragile, as if a small puff of wind could blow the leaves right off. How do they hang on so tightly?
I want to be brave in the wind, too.
I want to hold onto my leaves and my colors. Would that look like courage and a smile, like kindness and joy?
I want to keep that while bending down low, while the wind comes right at me and pushes me down. And then to bounce back up again.
I tend to think my life should be that of a tulip in a grassy little flower garden on a sunny day in June all of the time.
When it isn’t, I tend to think it is dreadful, and my life is dreadful, and I am dreadful, and everything will always be dreadful. Like something is wrong, big time, with my life and myself.
Silly me. Am I so easily fooled? Tricked into discontentment? It would seem that I am.
There is rain and there is sunshine, there are dark skies and blue skies, there […]
The little dimpled hands are ever so cute, clinging to me.
The big blue eyes he can charm anyone with are just too perfect. Pools of blue laughter, love and drama. His first steps, his headlong falling in my arms because he knows I will catch him and he is too lazy to learn how to walk. The little baby sounds, trying to copy ?my words. A giggle from deep down in the baby tummy bubbles up and seeps out through features in the expressive little face and the delighted mouth that isn’t scared to get really loud. Delightful, is what it is. What he is. Just like the flowers he tries to grab.
I don’t blame him. Their bright colors are pretty and alluring.
It’s also exhausting. One second on the floor and he wails for Mama, loud and heartbroken because his little brain can’t wrap itself around the fact that Mama still loves him, even though she does not pick him up. One second out of my sight and his world crashes. His head tilts back and a loud screech splits the air. Or he lets his little body fall face first on the floor, […]
The Superdaddy turned 35 yesterday and his 4-year-old son didn’t get that his daddy wouldn’t get a party. He himself has been quite enamoured with the idea of a themed birthday party since his cousin had a Paw Patrol party back in December.
His blank stares woke our pity and softened our hearts. We stopped our extensive and elaborate explanations and let papa choose a theme. At mama’s silent encouragement, he chose a Superhero party because all the guys around here have a superhero costume. Mike actually got one from my extended family the day before his birthday because Van Calsters are awesome like that.
The superdaddy went up to his office to work and me and the little batman and superman went to work.
There were superhero buntings and superhero balloons and then there was a spiderman-ish cake.
It was the perfect excuse to pull out my wedding dress that I had recently rescued from the garage, and then superdaddyman rescued me from being supermanless.
He played superherofootball with his boys and wore a cape and made me fall in love?again because it was his birthday but it revolved around his […]
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