Take 5

This week I am so grateful that, without even trying, my kids remind me to take a break from the stress of life, slow down, and enjoy something as simple as a popsicle. Lime and grape flavored. In my grown-up world of checklists and must do's, I almost missed this moment of innocent sibling silliness, and I'm just so grateful I forced myself to take a break from whatever "important" thing I was doing, and grabbed my camera. Also, it should be noted that this little photo shoot ended in a hilarious water fight with two naked kiddos.

A Bit of Advice

Image by TW Collins via Flickr

When the week is unrelenting and exhausting, I think it's vital to find ways to cut corners and keep on truckin'. It's Wednesday, and my family is in a deep state of survival mode. We're doing our best to get to Friday all in one piece, and I can hear my mother's soothing voice playing over and over again, "just let the little things GO!"  So, the laundry pile is 20 feet high, but my kids are safe and their tummies are full and there's been no blood shed.

I say, when life hands you buttermilk, make pancakes. And so tonight I looked in my fridge for dinner inspiration and decided upon a feast of fluffy multi-grain & flax-seed buttermilk pancakes and a swiss chard, mushroom & feta cheese scramble. Not too shabby for corner cutting, eh? I'm so grateful to have kids who think breakfast for dinner is a sign of a celebration rather than a sign of a frazzled and at-her-wits-end Mama.

Male Bonding

Dan arrived home today looking weary-eyed and dejected after a particularly grueling day at work. It breaks my heart to see him suffer in any capacity, especially in the realm of work-related stress because Lord knows the man works harder than anyone I know, and adding any extraneous pressure to his already overflowing workload somehow feels unjust. But that's just me and my unbiased little opinion. And although these days or moments of job-related tensions are few and far between, I found myself in a mild state of panic, racking my brain on the words and actions I needed to contrive to bring my husband comfort and support. Though this may come as an alarming shock to some (bite your tongues), I tend to be the more...."emotionally-spirited" spouse in our marriage, where Dan is typically the calm, cool and collected rock that anchors us. I tend to scream and yell and cry and complain and excel at sharing EVERY EMOTION I HAVE. He's gotten really good at looking at me with raised eyebrows and telling me to relax. It's a marriage made in heaven.

So, the mild state of panic. But what could I say, really? What do you say to someone who is visibly in the moment, working something out in their head?

I helplessly listened, I tried to offer loving support and insight. I waited for him to decompress in a way that I would decompress: talking. Talking to close friends, talking to family, blogging (my silent form of talking). Talking, talking, talking. And then sleep. And probably a little shopping. And hopefully a no-water, soy chai latte. Grande.

But tonight, it was Ben's turn to became his rock, and he didn't even know it.

After dinner, the two of them practically sat in silence while playing with Ben's wooden blocks. They sat there next to each other, in complete unison, building, thinking, designing, and occasionally verbalizing their engineering strategies. There was some obvious bonding occurring, and the two of them were in a zone of testosterone that I could not enter, nor did I want to. That's when it struck me how different we are; in times like these, Dan craves the quiet solace of "the cave" and I run from it, screaming like a crazy person. While I find incredible consolation in talking "it" out, in this moment, I think Dan derived the exact equivalence within the comfort of his home, holding his boy in practical silence. Building castles and towers and buildings and helicopters.

Sufficed to say, I think Ben earned himself a sticker on his chart today, fair and square.