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 […]
Every year about halfway through April until the beginning of May if we’re lucky, there’s a forest in Belgium, Hallerbos, that becomes a fairytale place.
Quietly and unassuming, thousands, millions of little flowers open up themselves, standing shoulder to shoulder, to cover the forest floor in a carpet of purple glory. If you can, go for a walk this weekend.
These days are the very last days the flowers are blooming like this. Because the pictures are pretty, but if you go for a walk there? You smell a million flowery dreams. You see just how far and wide the flower go.
You see just how beautiful it can be if every little flower just stands where God put it, and gives it’s color and it’s delicious smell. Just one is pretty. But all of these together? Too beautiful for words.
A day in the sunshine. Purple magic everywhere. If there were fairies, they would be right here.
But we don’t need fairies. We’ve got a million purple flowers and a creamy smell.
We’ve got little boys writing letters in the dirt.
We’ve got tree branches to walk on and trees to hug. Blue butterflies to chase.
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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, […]
Two little men-to-be, running in the sun. One of them is fast and agile, the other one can’t seem to follow his own legs.A third little guy sits on the stone pavement, eating some mud and giggling delightful baby sounds to his brothers.I sit on the doorstep, enjoying this first day of warm, barefoot weather sunshine.?I gaze up at the tree that almost succeeds in dwarfing this huge house we may live in for now. All at once my head snaps up, and I run to the tree. Pulling one of the lower branches down, my fear is confirmed.?After months of waiting for it to bloom all pink and fluffy like a Queen in the garden, I discover I’ve missed it. Did it happen while we were gone for the weekend, two weeks ago? One week ago? We were only gone for a weekend, twice. Surely it can’t be over that fast??This is the second year I waited in vain. Last year, too, I anticipated the day the Queen would put on her pink fairy dress and dance tall, slow and elegantly over the garden. I thought I ?saw the pink blossoms peek out from under the […]
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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