Morning Talk

(In the girl's room getting ready for the day with Fia and Francesca)

I am helping Francesca get on her clothes which consist of a skirt, leggings, turtleneck and shirt......she starts gagging when she puts on the turtetneck.  Why this surprises me I don't know........the child gags at almost every meal.  Thankfully she doesn't throw up and the turtleneck stays on.

Fia's contribution?

Fia: I throw up a little in my mouth at school.  The food comes up and stays in my mouth and I just swallow it.  It's ok.  

Huh.

Never knew that.

(Still in the girl's room)

Francesca is twirling around with a monkey that Zia Maria gave me.  Yes, my sister-in-law gave me a stuffed monkey.  She was referencing the fact that her cousin asked where the monkey was when I started laughing one day early on in my relationship with Joe.  To her credit she didn't realize it was the new girlfriend in the room that was laughing.  The story stuck and I was known for my monkey laugh since then.  Charming, I know :)

Fia:  You know Francesca that is really mommy's monkey.  Zia Maria gave it to her.  It's yours now but one day you can give it to your daughter and then she can give it to her daughter and then we will all be dead.

Huh.

Another gem.  Who knew that Zia Maria was buying an heirloom monkey that would live on after we were all dead one day.

(Walking into the kitchen)

Nico:  M-O-M!! I CANNOT CRISS CROSS IN THESE PANTS! SEE! SEE! (As he is yanking at the inseams of the pants......for those of you not in the know he is referring to criss cross applesauce - the appropriate way of saying indian style now)

Mom:  Ok.  Could you have told me that without yelling.

Nico: Sorry.  Yes.  But MOM why did you put these jeans out for me?

Mom:  I. didn't. know. (I tend to speak very slowly and calmly when the children get in their hysterical something is bothering me and feels out of control mode.)  Why don't we go see if there are some other pants we can find, ok?

Nico:  Ok (sigh)

Mom:  Oh here are some but wait they don't match you shirt, let's see if we can find other pants so you don't have to change your shirt.

Nico:  Why do they have to MATCH?

Fia:  Oh she always wants EVERYTHING to match (as if this is something akin to torturing small, fluffy kittens PLUS have you seen my children?  Hardly fashion plates and most of the time Francesca doesn't altogether match because she adds accessories or clothing items at the last moment that makes her look like a homeless diva or Madonna in the 80s after a really, really rough night.).

Mom:  Here.  I found some other jeans.

And the morning continues with basketball class, jewelry making and more in the basement.

How's your morning been?

To My Girls.........and Jani, a warrior mother.

One day, far from now, you will find yourself in a home, a hospital, a building........and you will be holding a baby.

Oh my girls.

I hope so much for you on that day.  I hope that it went easy and the way that you wanted it to.  I hope that your precious babe is healthy and screaming loud.  I hope that you and your husband feel that sense of joy and excitement that your father and I felt on the day that each of you were born.  I hope that I am there.........well after all the bloody and horrible bits occur......I apologize if you are disappointed in your mother for not being one who thinks the birthing process is beautiful.  It just isn't.

And if for some reason none of the above is true.......just know it's a day and just like a wedding doesn't determine a marriage, a birth doesn't determine a life.  How you got into the world is not so important as how you are cared for and live in that world.

And, girls, I want to talk to you for a moment about that first year.

It will seem like the BIGGEST, MOST IMPORTANT THING EVER that you just had a baby.

And it is.

It will be to you.

It will be to your husband.

It will be to your family.

But it's one day.  And the year that follows is just one year in a string of hopefully many, many years to come.

And so I want you to remember that what happens in that year is important in that you need to feed your baby, they need to sleep, they need lots of love, they need to have shelter and be clothed.  You need to hold them and comfort them when they cry.  Make sure you change their diaper lots and wash their tiny, little selves.  Help them to sleep safe, ride safe and play safe.  Read books to them.  Kiss them.

Do all those things.

BUT HEAR ME NOW GIRLS.

IT DOES NOT MATTER HOW YOU ACCOMPLISH THOSE THINGS.

How you birth them, feed them, diaper them, sleep them, comfort them and keep them is up to you, my loves.  And if by chance someone makes you feel as if you are LESS because of how you accomplish those things.........walk away, girls.  Just walk away.

We, mothers, have a tendency to get so wrapped up in our world and our crusades and our soapboxes and our precious babies.  We care so much about our little ones and, to be honest, are scared.  We are scared that we aren't doing things right, that we aren't making the right decisions, right choices and so we have to BELIEVE in what we are doing and sometimes that means we hurt others or ourselves with our fervent beliefs.

Motherhood makes you sensitive.

Motherhood makes you strong.

Motherhood makes you crazy.

Motherhood makes you rally for your child which has become your cause.

Motherhood makes you certain..........until you aren't.

And so my sweet girls never mistake any method of birthing, feeding, diapering, scheduling, loving, caring, sleeping, keeping as holiness.

It's not.

It's just the first year.

Begin motherhood, not in battle AGAINST other mothers.  But begin motherhood in battle WITH other mothers.

Because honestly?

You will feel as if you are battling those screaming, little creatures that you take home with you from wherever.  It will be a battle to sleep them, feed them, clothe them, and continue to like them (The saying is true..........you DO always love them but liking them is another story).  And you need other warriors in the battle with you.

Warriors who like your children when you don't.

Warriors to call and laugh with when your whole day has been tears and peeing pants and throwing things (and that's just what I was doing...........)

Warriors who will bring food or drinks or distractions.

Warriors who watch your kids.

Warriors who look beyond the mom debates and see to the heart of the mom.

Warriors.

Find your warriors, girls.

And BE a warrior for other moms.  Be the safe place, the honest place.

And I will be yours.

I love you.

Hot? Probably not...... :)

This past week we were at a birthday party - a birthday party with old friends, celebrating 2 years of their beautiful, crazy-fun boy.  One of the girls walked in and just shook her head and said, "What.  What is it?  You look...........hot.  Did you lose weight?  Did you cut your hair?  What?"

Ha.  Still giggling over her words.

We met these wonderful people - so many of them - about three years ago.  Three years ago when my babies were all still at home.  Three years ago when they were all newly married and bright-eyed and wearing funky, cool thrift store clothing or clothing found in a mom's/grandmother's closet or bought in some far away land when they were traveling/living there.  They would walk into our house, to church and they would be rested and they would have just exercised that day or spent time cooking/reading/hanging out/cleaning/working ALONE, no little ones following them all the live long day.   Then there would be Joe and I with our littles - 4, 3 and 1.  We were never rested.  We were rarely alone.  We never exercised anymore.  Our tribe was loud and lovable and eager and always messy.  It was like we were some other breed of creature and I still appreciate how welcomed we were.

Ha.  I still giggle at the picture we made and the misconceptions of the ones without little ones.

(One of my favorite stories from that time - which we tell over and over - was the first time we met most of these people.  It was at a get together at the Barger house.  We were some of the only ones with kids.  We were sitting down at this table with our three kids and Francesca gets "the look" and starts choking.  No biggie.  She did it all the time, still does quite frequently.  We run her over to the side of the deck and let her throw up in the bushes and then sit down and finish our potluck.  Not everyone else was so unfazed by this......or the eating habits of a 3 and 4 year old.  Not to mention Joe finishing the mess of food from the children's plate...........the same childless woman at that table?  Now pregnant with number 2.......number 1?  Yeah, she sat on my lap Monday night, stuck her finger up her nose and pulled out a little present.......I nearly vomited.  How, indeed, the tides have turned :)

And so now.........the newly marrieds are the newly babied :)  They have little ones, are pregnant with their seconds and the tides have turned.  And every time I see this wonderful woman and she exclaims over me and says what happened and what have I done with myself?

Oh my.

I got some sleep.

I have some space.

I shower BY MYSELF WITH NO LITTLE ONES SCREAMING OR NEEDING ME.

I don't chase anymore.

Everyone goes to the bathroom/dresses/feeds themselves.

The little ones help cook/clean.

We have dinner conversation.

My kids and I can play things we BOTH enjoy.

I can say, "HEY.  Mom needs a little time.  Go play." AND THEY DO.

So what happened?

It's not the bangs.  It's certainly not the body.  It's not anything.  It's just.......well........

Life happened.  It went on.  Babies got bigger.  We entered a new phase.

And it's good.

Just as good as the one before.

And just as good as the one to come after will be.

And, I don't know, I just want to encourage those of you in the midst of that phase that it's ok.  It's ok to be tired and wear your jammies all day.  It's ok to not feel great and to resent the little ones and lose your patience, at times.  It's ok to have laundry that's piled up and dishes that are never done.  It's ok to not be ok.

I once cried at Christmas because my brother bought me all these clothes from Banana Republic - dry clean only, pretty clothes that had no place in my life at that time.  They didn't fit my body, they didn't fit my life and I cried.  I cried because my mom had gotten me a matching jogging-type outfit and it did fit.  It fit my body and my life and I thought that was just going to be it.  Me in a matchy-match pink and black jogging outfit for the rest of my life and there was going to be no more room for pretty clothes and white tops and cool jeans.

And I know that there are moms out there that do white tops and pretty clothes and bright smiles through the baby years.  They look great and the love that time and they get sleep and they just do it somehow.

I wasn't one of them.

I loved my babies and I was a good mom and I played and I created and I got through and did it well.  But it wasn't always pretty and it wasn't always fun and I cried and I laughed a lot because nothing gets so bad that you can't find a way to laugh in the midst of it all.

And so I just want to say............it's ok.  Whatever you are feeling, whatever you see when you look in the mirror, whatever is happening behind closed doors at home with the little ones........it's ok.

You'll survive.

They'll survive.

And you will have a TON of great stories at the end of it all.........

The Snowflake's Journey

Once upon a time a tiny, brand-new snowflake descended from the sky.  It was carried gently along on the breezes, fluttering here and there, before gently landing upon the ground.

There it was cloaked in a sea of white obscurity among the other tiny snowflakes.

Until one day.

On that day a pair of hands reached down and, ever so tenderly, picked that snowflake up.

He examined the tiny snowflake.  This snowflake was now not so new.  It was slightly damaged from the skyfall.  It was wondering at it's life course, here among so many other snowflakes, some bigger and more beautiful and more pronounced than itself.  For it was just a tiny, little snowflake among so many others.

But He saw it's beauty and uniqueness.  He spoke to this tiny snowflake of His wonder of her beauty and purpose and how she was created to be just as she is, a tiny snowflake with six points and all the unique designs she carried within her and upon her tiny snowflake frame.

And there came a day..............when she believed His words.

She had always believed in Him.  She had seen evidence of Him throughout the world she had fallen into.  There were much bigger things which had no explanation other than the one provided by those big hands that enveloped her.  She believed, easily, in Him.

But that day.............she believed in herself.

On that day she believed He could use her to do special things.

And so it began.

Another leg of this snowflake's journey.

She began to notice that other snowflakes were being plucked from upon the ground, the hands shaping and molding them to her.  Some were big, some were tiny, some looked kind of like her, others did not.  All were uniquely made and beautiful, as snowflakes are known to be.  Not any one snowflake was like any other.

They were molded and shaped by those hands until they resembled something bigger than themselves, something different than what they were alone.

And it took awhile.

Those hands needed time to smooth the rough edges and tightly pack those snowflakes together.

Until one day.................they formed a somewhat perfectly shaped, round ball.

And it was time.

He gently laid that ball back on the ground, the ground upon which He once had found all those snowflakes, plucking them from their white obscurity and creating them into something more.

And for a time it settled there.

Until one day...............it started to roll, slowly at first.  But this snowball had been placed on a top of a high, high hill.  And we all know what happens when a snowball is placed upon a hill...........it starts to roll.

And, indeed, it did.  It's progress was a bit slow at first, as it neared the brink of that hill and begin to precariously tip over edge.

But from there it gained momentum.

It began it's journey down the hill, the mountain really.  As it began it's descent and gained speed it picked up other snowflakes along the way and the snowball began to grow bigger and bigger.

Now as happens with all snowballs and journeys down large mountains while so many snowflakes grabbed on and were packed tightly in..........well, others were flung off and made to start over, on other journeys in different places.  You can never quite know where you are going to land.  The life of a snowflake is as varied as it's design.

And so they went along...........speeding, sometimes slowing as they hit different bumps and turns and obstacles along the way, down the mountain.

Until one day....................there came the end.

They had arrived at the bottom.

And as that once new, once tiny snowflake looked around..............well, she was in awe.  She remembered the day she had been blown gently on the breezes, landing upon the ground.  She remembered feeling insignificant and small and overwhelmed by all around her.  She remembered the hands.  She remembered the care and love shown to her all the years and she remembered the gathering of the others.  She remembered the packing in and smoothing and being laid upon the ground, as something new, something that was created uniquely by those hands.  And oh how she remembered the journey down the mountain - how thrilling and dangerous it had seemed at times but how she would trade it for nothing in this world.  She remembered it all and because she did she was able to look back and see His hands in it all...............

How one tiny snowflake grew into a tremendously large, gloriously made snowball.

A Gardener's Wife

I have been a gardener's wife for almost 10 years now.  The seasons have taken on new meaning as planting, sowing, harvesting have become common practices in our household.  I have fallen in love with the idea and the reality of growing food, of eating out of our own backyard and living as much as possible off our small plot of land.  And while so much of it has been commonplace and no longer quite as thrilling.............there is a moment that retains just as much excitement and anticipation as it did the first time.

Each year begins with the seeds.  They are planted with care, away from the extremes of the outdoors.  They are babied and cared for because we expect so much of them later.  We are careful - watering them with droppers and shielding them from too much cold, too much sun, too much of anything that can overwhelm them or hinder their growth.

Outside we break ground.  The soil is tossed about and the rocks are thrown about in an attempt to prepare the ground for our precious seeds.  

Joe watches the weather, watches the conditions and one day it is determined it's time.  It's time for the seedlings to go in.  They have grown with their time inside, being cared for and gently raised up from the seeds they once were.

And so out we go and gently the seedlings go in.

We dig small holes, filling them with water and oh so gently they are laid in the earth.  We fill in the holes, pat down the earth and walk away.

And there is this moment where you have to wonder if they will take to their new environment, to their new surroundings and if they will survive on their own.

For although you will be back to water them and pluck the biggest weeds that surround them, that care they knew before they were planted in the out of doors is gone.  They are to survive on their own.

And so the moment that still brings a thrill to me, that still generates whoops and shouts from us all at the Codispoti house is that moment when you look outside, when you enter into the garden gates and you see the first sign of fruit, the first sign of life that has sprung forth from what was once a seed.  That.  That is the moment that retains just as much excitement and anticipation as it did the first time.

It takes a great deal of faith and trust to walk away, to let what you so gently cared for go on it's own and trust that fruit will be generated.  

But that's the thrill.

That's the excitement.

Knowing you did all you could and having to wait, it's out of your hands and in the hands of the One who ultimately controls the seasons, the planting and new life.

And what a thrill it is when you see all that a small seed is capable of, you remember the tiny little seeds that spilled out into your hands and into the dirt.  You remember the seedlings that sprang from your love and care and attention.  And it seems incredulous to me that from those tiny seeds came rows and rows of bounty, spilling forth from the earth.  It seems, each season, a fulfillment of a promise.  It never grows old or commonplace, that time is always accompanied by a bit of awe and wonder.

And so I ask.........are you in a season of careful cultivation or of walking away? 

Are you witnessing signs of new life, growth or enjoying the bounty of your labor?  

Or are you just beginning to sow seeds?

What Matters

Sometimes you can get caught up in so many things, so many people and you forget.

You forget what makes your heart beat stronger, what joy looks like, what causes you relax into life.

You just get caught up.

Sometimes I worry that our children don't know, can't realize how much we love them, how much we treasure who they are and work to ensure that they know that home is a safe and loving place.  I count the minutes that we are away from them or working or preparing as minutes lost, at times.  It's hard to find the balance as a mom who once spent every minute with her children as they move on and into lives at school and at dance and soccer and having lives of their own, lived out in their imaginations as they play school and store and all manner of things.  And I wonder.......do they know?

And last night, after many long weekends and many  nights filled with activity and a roller coaster of a weekend, I found myself in bed with my three babes.  We curled up, cuddled up amid the blankets and the pillows........and my heart beat stronger, I remembered what joy looked like and I relaxed into my life.

And better yet I got to hear JOY..........in the words of my girl.

And I thought............they know.

This is what Fia chose to read last night at bed.  It's a story she wrote in school where they had to write about a time you had fun at an outdoor place.

"What makes me happy is seeing my family in the backyard.  We hear screaming alot.  Me and my family sleep outside in a tent.  Reading with mom is fun in the backyard.  I love to swing underneath the monkey bars.  My mom and I like to do homework in the backyard.  Me and my sister and brother play in the treefort outside.  It is fun at home with my family.  Everyone loves to see my grades and Nicos grades.  We like to watch the birds and listen to the birds.  It is exciting outside with my brother and sister.  I help my mom with the strawberry jam and planting with Dad and picking carrots.  Rassberrys blueberries tomatoes and beans.  Friends come over and we love to play and climb on the treefort and swing on the tire swing.  It is fun in the backyard."

Oh my girl.  After a summer spent outside and on the go - trips to camp, amusement parks, family vacations and more - this is what you write about.  And I think, yes.  Me too, my girl, me too.  Home is always the best place, the happiest place.

Thank you for reminding me what matters.

And this morning my heart is beating stronger, joy is in place and I am beginning to relax back into life.

Thank you, Lord, for these children that you have given to me.  They remind me every day not to look down on anyone because they are young.  It is through them that you speak so clearly to my heart.

Breathing deep and feeling grateful today.

What if He Does?

I was reading Daniel this morning........and as always I am bowled over by the faith of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego.  I mean you expect miraculous things to happen in the Bible, you sort of become immune to all the fantastical things that happen because IT'S THE BIBLE.  I grew up knowing the stories of Noah and the Ark, Jonah and the whale, a baby born from a virgin......all things I believe to be true and actually to have happened but, still, you become used to such things after awhile.

But I have never become "used" to the faith of these three men.

"Shadrach, Meschach and Abednego replied to the king, "O Nebuchhadnezzar, we do not need to defend ourselves before you in this matter.  If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to save us from it, and he will rescue us from your hand, O king.  But even if he does not, we want you to know, O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up."
            - Daniel 3:16-18

Doesn't that just take your breath away?

BUT EVEN IF HE DOES NOT...............

They refused to worship false gods, false images.  They refused to defend themselves.

They accepted whatever was going to happen to them.

They were thrown into the blazing furnace..........

And lived.

HE DID RESCUE THEM.

What they thought would happen, did indeed happen.

Which led my thoughts to which is scarier?

When He does deliver or when He doesn't?

There are times when you would give anything for the deliverance and we have all been in situations like that - sickness, disease, longing for marriage/children/fulfillment and you think PLEASE GOD, PLEASE, PLEASE HELP ME and you want nothing more than to be rescued, to be saved from the hurts of this world.

And then there are other times...............

Times when you see a certain path, a certain way that things could go and may go.......how small faithful steps can lead to bigger things and bolder things and you think...........MAYBE?  Ummm, well MAYBE you could deliver on this promise, this picture that you allowed me to glimpse?

Or maybe we will just chalk this up to a fantastical vision that is just my imagination running amok because, I mean, for real, God.............it's just me.  You know.......me?  Little old housewife, mom, loves to cook and be in my kitchen me?  The one who still feels like throwing up every time I have to speak in front of people whether it be 2 people or 100 people........so, yeah, you can just NOT deliver on this, ok?  I will STILL have faith, God, even if you do not...........in fact, I will make sure that my faith is greater if you do not.  How's that for a deal?

Or not.

I have learned over the past few years not to dismiss the fantastical, the miraculous, the unimaginable.  I have learned to focus not on the ark but the man.  To look at Jonah running away and fearing the task before him instead focusing in on the incredulousness of the whale swallowing a man.    The Bible is made up of people, regular, ordinary, everyday people with an extraordinary God.........and sometimes they had extraordinary faith but also sometimes they were just scared and reluctant and not knowing what to do.

I get that.

But I also get that it's not about me and it's not about what I can do but what God can do.  And the other night I sat in bed and I caught a glimpse of what might or might not be what the future might hold and it slammed me back against the bed.  My mind was racing and all the while I was thinking, no, no, no way.  No.  That is so not going to happen.  No.  NO.  Oh my gosh.

My breathing picked up, my heart was racing and I started to race through the logistics, the hows, the whys, the when, the no way is this possible or even likely and we would have to do this and this and this and, seriously, WHO ARE WE?

And then I stopped.

It's not mine to know how or why or when or even if..........I will have faith if He doesn't but I will have  faith even when or if He does.

In the mean time.............I will take the small faithful steps as they come, looking to Him for guidance and reassurance and living each day as it comes..............

and quietly, secretly, half hoping HE DOES.