Tradition Express

When I was younger, we would read the story of The Polar Express while at the extended family's Christmas gathering. There, in front of a roaring fire and nestled in heaps at my uncle's feet, my cousins and I would sit in wonder as he made the words come to life with his rich baritone voice. That tradition has gone by the wayside, but the movie has allowed me to share memories of my childhood in a new way and create a tradition of our own. During the first weekend of December, we don our pajamas, pop the popcorn, make hot cocoa and snuggle in for a family slumber party in the living room, kicked off with the annual viewing of "The Polar Express."

This year we watched "Arthur Christmas" instead, which is fast becoming my favorite Christmas movie of all time.  There is serious competition for that title, because we take our holiday movie watching seriously over here.  There have been actual tears shed this Christmas over the death of our VCR, lack of an affordable thrift store replacement, and thus the elimination of much of our current collection of beloved classics.  I should amend that to "classics" for our family - "Bob the Builder's Christmas" and "The Snowman" are hardly in the "It's a Wonderful Life" or "The Bell's of St Mary's" caliber, but no one here watches things the old black and white movies. Even though I absolutely adore "Arthur Christmas" and its decided lack of creepy elves and spin tingling action meant for a 3D theater screen, I still felt something was missing without the annual viewing of "Polar Express"

So when Snickers begged to have a family pj party, I was 100% on board.  The pigs in a blanket dinner morphed in to plain old hot dogs with mac and cheese, as that I ended up having cavities filled on both sides of my mouth during dinner time. But the dance-a-thon was a success, followed up by a semi cozy viewing of the cinematic delight.  I added in facts about the movie for the older kids, and the younger kids watched it like they had never seen it before - squealing ecstatically when Santa appeared at the end.

I know that my children don't extrapolate upon the true meaning of the "first gift of Christmas." The it represents more than a bell, more than believing in a jolly man who bestows gifts upon children, but rather that, within the story, it represents faith.  How precious a belief in something greater than ourselves, a God greater than ourselves is.  How a benevolent God gave the whole world the greatest gift we would ever receive, because He loves us.  He chose Mary, because of her great faith.

To them it is still just a movie, magical, wonderful, a train that takes them off to dreamland where they too will receive bells. 

Because they believe

Family Pictures - First take

As has been briefly covered in the past, I have a small picture addiction, coupled with a picture perfectionism trait that strikes terror into the hearts of my family. If I am looking for a little piece and quiet, I just say "family picture" and everyone scatters - leaving a blissful silence.

Starlet, however, asked for us to have family pictures as part of her Christmas present. With such a sweet request, no one could refuse, and they even had to keep their grumbling to a minimum.


So we waited. I don't care who says what about global warming. I live in a place where people travel from all over the country to ski - it is December -I better have snow! But here we are, mid December, and only just last night did we get a light dusting. Not a decent snow by far - it was however enough of a snow that it made the outdoors Christmas card scenic. Outfits on, cameras ready, we trudged out to do our best.

We did not get the family shot we were aiming for. The "good" camera died early. Starlet ended up being terrified of the spot we chose, absolutely certain she was going to plummet to a painful rocky death. Which really narrows ones ability to get a decent smile.

We got some pretty shots, which will l use in make a photo collage for each child as part of their Christmas presents. With packing, cleaning, and sorting as our moving plans go forward I haven't done as much of the holiday celebrations as I would want to, and am making plans to do better next year. That being said, I hope that I can teach my children that the greatest gift and true meaning of the season is love.

The first step - get help!

This post has been much more challenging that what it was supposed to be.  So much so that I have rewritten it 17 times, walked away from the computer more times than I can count, and spent several hours playing with blog layouts and backgrounds instead of actually typing it.

Previously I have posted about some of the challenges facing our family, and the blessings that we are receiving during those challenges.  I have learned a lot in the past seven weeks - about my family, but also about me.  I haven't really liked those posts, because I feel they are somewhat whiny and somewhat sappy, and not nearly as funny as I would like them to be.  But part of the reason I write this blog is because I want to share something raw and real.  So many times we read blogs and we look at Pinterest and wonder what is wrong with our lives.  How can these other people be happy all the time? How are they able to be so creative when I am struggling to make plain old paper chains?  Is it cheating if I just buy the craft kits instead of coming up with ideas on my own?  Will all of this lack of creativity scar my children and set them behind because I don't great them with first day of school survival kits and weekly themed treats?

I have a confession to make.  It is about something that I have tried to keep secret, though not very well, from those outside my immediate family.  It is not something I am proud of, and the fact that it could be much worse doesn't make it any better.  I have been battling for several years now a problem with anger - specifically yelling.  I tend to react first and think about it later.  Though I always apologize, that doesn't take away that I got upset in the first place. And though I have made a point in our household and even when I yell to not use put downs, name calling, or anything that could diminish the self worth of whoever I am yelling at, being yelled at can still make a person feel like a failure.

Songbird and Sunshine can remember a time before I started yelling, and it is my hope that Starlet, Snickers, and Smash don't remember me yelling at all.  Unless it is their names from the sidelines, cheering them on.

I actually have not yelled in the past seven weeks - I consider myself in anger remission.  I am also considering making myself my own behavior chart to put next to the kids, and covering it with lots and lots of gold stars.  As soon as I peel them off my nose.

Not yelling hasn't taken a huge amount of will power, or biting my tongue all the time.  It actually had a fairly simple solution.  I figured out why I yelled and was angry all the time.  I knew that I wasn't really that angry about the inevitable mess.  Though I find messes frustrating and distracting, it is not enough to make me angry, because just as Starlet points out, messes go with kids like peanut butter goes with jelly. Kids forget to do their chores, or shove everything in other places and claim their room is clean.  No matter how many clear bins and labels you buy, things will be put away in the wrong place, and the bins will be used as battle helmets, bug houses, rock gardens, and footwear.  I find a lot of it really funny actually, so no, the mess is not what was making me mad.

My husband raised an eyebrow to me last night when discussing an extended family member's depression, I explained in a frustrated manner that I don't understand why so and so just didn't buck up and kick depression's butt.   Sure I get down, but then I go all Mortal Kombat on the blues that are bothering me and then they go away.  Perhaps being raised by a military man is necessary for this.

The point being is that when faced with interior personal challenges, my first answer is aggression.  I have been so angry, so incredibly hopping mad....at myself. I sincerely believed that I am failing as a mom.  At first I thought that my feelings of failure were just centered around dealing with the time it has taken to get a proper diagnosis for Songbird, and the extent of which several of her issues have gone untreated and un-noticed, as well as dealing with my inability to help Sunshine with her dyslexia.  Those two issues alone are massive, and certainly enough to make me feel like a failure.  Then I realized that my feelings of failure extended past that.  That Starlet isn't reading better than she is, even though she is clearly ready, because I haven't had time to give her that extra attention and push.  That I haven't provided enough opportunities for Snickers to get out all that boy energy that drives his sisters bonkers, and thus his favorite activities have been chosen out of self defense. (If I enjoy playing Barbies, maybe they won't paint my nails and stuff me in a tutu...again).  We don't have enough traditions, do enough crafts, miss out on important community events...the list goes on and on.  Basically I felt that I was doing nothing right, and because it was cyclical and constant, I couldn't take a kick butt attitude against it and make it go away.  Instead I kept running on the hamster wheel, spraying little shavings of anger in every direction.

So I stopped.

Right now I suppose I am still at that phase where the hamster lays on its belly on the wheel and lets it rock him back and forth for a bit as the momentum slows down.  I am not yelling, thus no longer running, and am gathering my bearings by making action plans.  I am working on slowly accepting that I am not super human, and shouldn't expect myself to be.  I am shifting my focus from chief fixer to chief advocate.  Instead of trying to help and spending anywhere between two and six hours a day talking to Songbird straight just to get her through to the next day, I am going to advocate more to ensure that she gets the additional help she needs from the counseling services.  I am going to continue to do all of the tips and techniques for Sunshine's dyslexia, but I am going to press harder to make sure she gets the special education services she needs from the school.  I am going to try to have a firmer schedule allocated to work with Starlet.  And I am teaming up Snickers and Smash together.  All my children can and will succeed in their chosen paths.  Though I cannot help them entirely by myself, I can be their voice and advocate for them.  Battle mode on!

But there are also chocolate chips!

 Part Two

So in the first part of the post, life for our little family (okay so five kids is probably not little)  was looking a little on the bleak side. We certainly are facing challenges.  But we are also incredibly blessed

Chocolate chip #1 - Communication!

For a family full of chatterboxes, it turns out that we really don't say very much to each other - or at least what we should be saying. The past seven weeks have opened my eyes to how much has been left unsaid.  We have all been working together so that we saying the things that need to be said, and avoiding things that don't need to be said.  This means less arguing and snapping at each other.

Chocolate chip #2 - Songbird

Now that we know more about what is going on with my little Songbird, we are learning more on how to help her spread her wings in the best ways possible. 

Chocolate chip # 3 - New directions

Our business had been struggling for a while, causing massive issues with our personal finances as we tried to help keep it afloat.  In retrospect we probably should have hoisted a rowboat and abandoned ship long ago, and we definitely have taken on some water with trying to stick it out.  But now we know better, know what to do the in the future, and know with certainty that closing the business and making different choices are what we need to do.  Onward to the next adventure!

Chocolate chip # 4 - New locations

Moving here caused a major blow to Songbird's personal identity that she has never quite recovered from.  After three years of trying to make it work, with the Grimm determination of Cinderella's evil stepsisters and their desire to fit into a glass slipper, I give.  We are in the process of making arrangements to move.  We have a final destination goal in mind, and might have to make some temporary spots along the way, but we will get there.  With the weight of constant arguing and needling about giving here a chance, and making more of an effort to like it lifted, things feel so much better in the house.  Aside from the poor air quality, we can all breathe again.

Chocolate chip # 5 - Letting the little things go

I admit it, the little things drive me crazy. Walking from room to room and finding mess in each one was enough to make me a raging volcano of burning lava most days.  The fact that having a house clean to my standards and having five kids were two completely incompatible ideas did not escape me, but that didn't stop me from trying.  It also didn't escape Starlet, who said on a frequent basis

"Mommy, you love kids right?"
Yes honey, I love kids very much.
But you don't like messes.
No
But kids make messes.  You might have wanted to think about that."

With everything that has happened, the mess has been the least of my concerns.  It's a mess, and it will get cleaned up.  And a new mess will probably replace it.  .And that is okay.  Since I stopped erupting about messes, I have made a few observations.  One is that my house is just the same amount of clean, or perhaps a little cleaner that when I was erupting all the time trying to get it clean.  Two is that I have an easier time letting go of things we don't need.

Chocolate chip # 6 - Remembering what's important

Recently in my hometown there was a huge amount of community support for a young child struggling to battle cancer.  I knew many people who were close to the family of the child quite well, and had met the family themselves previously.  The battle was both horrendously and mercifully short.  One day he was just a little small fry going about his business, then he developed cancer, and less than two years later he was taken up to heaven, just a few weeks shy of his ninth birthday.  His family is amazing and humbles me through their example.  In the clenching grasp of their grief they have been generous to others. Rallying support for donations of toys for Toys for Tots, paying for people in line around them, baking cookies, and singing carols. 

I shared their story, when it ended, with my children.  I reminded them that though their siblings could be a royal pain, that they should still be grateful and appreciative of their lives, and the joy they bring us.  I hold each of my children closer now, and am so grateful that I have the opportunity to get frustrated with their choices, to worry about them, and to love them.  To kiss their foreheads and the palms of their hands, and breathe them in deep.