My blogger buds have been participating in this movement going around the worldwide web that I found here, and then added more here. These posts have been a really refreshing way of letting others know "The Things I'm Afraid to Tell You" and to allow us to break down the literal screens that separate us. I have so enjoyed the honest accounts that we have shared in. Yes, I nod as I read them and I feel that little bit of indigestion when a sentiment strikes a chord.

 

True confessions: I am not a rockstar mom. I try, and I (often) fail.

The thing is (I think you see right through this, no?)...I'm not a supermom. I don't wish to blog one way and live another. It is weird to type, however, particularly as a person hosting a blog about happy homes, that I do not have it all together.

And, dear, lovely friends who ask how I balance it all - kids and work and this blog and life. Every day I put in the effort and most days I end up exhausted, trying to be the best that I can for my children.

This week has brought home for me my own limits.. where I forgot school lunches and end of the year Daisy meetings, dropped off crying children at school and completely lost my voice from yelling at the kiddos, and even on a number of occasions asked my dear hubby to PLEASE take over with the kids. I had had enough. I had reached my limit.

And here's what I learned.
 
My children have an incomprehensible capacity for forgiveness.

 

Instant forgiveness.

I sat them all down and in my big Mommy voice apologized for my response to their behaviors.

M: "No problem, Mom."
C: "I love you, Mommy!"
L: "Dats okay, Mommee."

While I am still recovering from how poorly I handled situations this week (my voice has returned)...And fighting my own immaturity to judge them for their actions...these three little people are already over the emotions, the impatient tones, and the harsh words. In fact, I'm not sure they even remember them happening at all.

I have a clean slate. Instantly.

My children have this Grace, still. I realize it's not likely they'll always have this Gift in this way. I realize too that for their own survival in this changing world, they need to have the walls and defenses to learn from mistakes and broken promises and bumps along the road.

But what if?
What if we could really look at one another as my children did and just let it go...whatever IT might be between us?

Frustration, anger, disappointment gone with the gentle breeze blowing by us.

I'm going to try it today.

To fight off my own self-preservation instinct and follow my children's lead. Wanna try it with me?

Pick someone, anyone with whom you are struggling. It doesn't have to be your greatest struggle - this isn't therapy (or even a great self-help blog).

Perhaps it's the salesman at the door who both knocked and rang the doorbell during naptime (URGH!). Instant forgiveness. Poof. Done.

Maybe it's your coworker who interrupted you again or your friend that has yet to return your phone call. Or that guy in the car in front of you who will not stop looking at his phone to go through the green light. Instant forgiveness. Poof. Done.

Maybe that's how these kiddos make childhood look so blissful.

Perhaps it's yourself that you offer the Grace to. Forgiveness is always out there waiting for us, if we only ask God for it. Perhaps you acknowledge this Gift of instant forgiveness...and let it go. Poof. Done.

C turns 5 today, and we celebrate her with the passion and amazing capacity for joy that she offers to the world. Happy birthday, little lady. I hope I grow up to be just like you.

Happy Thursday, friends.

XOXO, MJ

My mom is fabulous at a great many things. Some I recognized even as an awkward, mall-bang-wearing (not a word), self-conscious teen. Many, many more I have discovered like golden Easter eggs in the great hunt of parenthood.

She and my dad have been so gracious to come and stay with our family during the first few weeks home with each of my new babes. And, let me tell you, my mom can whip a house in to tidy, sparkling clean order like nobody I know, and she can do it with breakneck speed and still be raring to cuddle or cajole her precious grandchildren.

Growing up in my house, with my mom as the lone chef, I sat down to a hot meal every night, served family style with just the right amount for each of us and always little waste.

During my new mommy days, when my mom and dad stayed with us, my mom put on the apron (literally) as head chef, coming in with her meals and menus already set and a grocery list preplanned for my father's day trips. Those weeks, though exhausting and surreal, were totally heavenly and peaceful for me as my sweet mother added the delicious smells and necessary order that my new (and now forever) chaotic life so needed.

My mother knows how to present a meal. She presents a snack. She presents a drink. In creating her menus, she considers nutrition as well as color combinations, food placement, and dish selections. In my home, I watched her find new serving dishes, carefully fluff and arrange the food on my plates, and fold my cheap paper napkins into something special.

This gift is one of those I overlooked as a youngling, and one that I, now in her shoes as a mom of three, totally get. And I realize that all of these little (and significant) ways that she cared for me through her meals and treats and presentations made me enjoy food more and in the end make some better choices.

We all know just how beautiful the colors and textures of food can be, and we're blessed to have so many beautiful food blogs out there to elicit intense salivation (check out Dawn's amazing food photos that I swear I can smell through the screen). 

But before I had those, I had my mom, and I'm trying in little ways to incorporate her energy. I completely feel like a rockstar mom when our food looks like I want to take out my iPhone and snap a shot (and I get a great laugh out of little L asking me why I'm taking pictures of grapes). My children have a visceral reaction, too, though they would not be able to name it, much as I was unable to do the same in my parent's home.

It's a good mom day when the grapes are sliced and placed in a pretty white bowl. I've achieved the simple, true act of pouring out the love I've been so graciously given.

Love ya, Mom.

XOXO, MJ