Giving Up vs. Giving In

There is many a day that I write an ode to the triple stroller. I love the thing more than I ever could have imagined or my husband could possibly have fathomed when he denied my numerous requests to find one on Craigslist. Yet, as much as I love it there are days that I just can not do it. Yesterday was one of those days.

Tuesdays are my speed workout days. For whatever reason, they seemed to fit into my LA 1/2 Marathon Training schedule best on Tuesdays. The girls are off school on Tuesdays. Without local family or a steady babysitter, this means speed workouts are done with the triple. Three weeks ago I had an amazing 400m repeat session down on nearby flat streets. It was one of those days where I finished feeling like Superwoman or Supermom (although in all truth I do not believe such exists). I was on fire, fast, hit my target times, ran Cesia to sleep along the way and finished the cool-down home singing songs with Adara.

Last Tuesday was so very different. That is life. You never know just what is going to happen or how your kids are going to behave. Cesia woke up early and in some crazy raging mood. The refrigerator broke the night prior leaving us with rotten, warm food and a late night of internet searching for a new one. I was crabby, had a 3 hr school board meeting to co-lead that morning and thought, "What the heck, let's get the workout in now before school." So we did. Cesia whined and cried the entire time. The ENTIRE time. Running hard makes me angry. I'm not sure whether it's caused by raised testosterone levels during hard efforts or the pain I'm pushing through, but I know it makes me angry. Speed workout and labor both make me furious, until the pain subsides and endorphins kick in and I am floating on cloud nine. Seriously, I have never been so mean to my husband as I have during my first labor or my first race with him. I'm suffering and so I'm short, impatient. While running my heart out to cover the 6th 400m repeat in 90 seconds while pushing 140 lbs of weight AND Cesia is screaming that she wants to run back home to get her pink chapstick, I just about lost it. Luckily (for all involved), I was too out of breath and too exhausted to say or do much about it. STOP whining was shouted a few times, but that was about all I could muster. It was just one of those days. We got through it, but it wasn't pretty. 8x400 m repeats complete and on with our day.

When yesterday's training schedule called for 6x400 meter repeats at 5K pace, I was not exactly ready to launch myself right into the same misery. Alan was already en route to DC for the week so running at night was not an option. I called up a babysitter. For the first time ever, I was about to pay someone to watch my kids while I ran. I had never done that before. That was the reason I bought the triple stroller in the first place, to avoid such a necessity. Babysitter was busy. My brain racked itself begging for back-ups. I just wasn't feeling a triple stroller speed session. Cesia was up half the night practicing some form of torture on me, testing just how little sleep I could handle. She may have won but was not in the best of spirits herself due to sheer exhaustion.

I called up my 84 year old neighbor, Barb. She eagerly accepted the position to come watch one boy sleep in his bed (via baby monitor) and two girls play in the yard while Mama got out for a much needed break. With her cell phone in hand and mine cupped in my wrist, I dashed up to dirt Mulholland to complete 6x400 m fast. Though Barb is Isaac's best friend in the entire world and he would be thrilled to see her upon waking, she can't bend over to pick him up out of his crib. Thus, I ran repeat after repeat just 10 minutes from the house in case my phone rang and I had to end the workout early and sprint home. My phone never rang. I ran fast and free, returning home in just 45 minutes feeling renewed and excited to spend the afternoon with my kids. Sometimes that is all you need, a short jaunt, a little break to remind you how much you truly do love your life.

Loving this...

And this...

On my cool-down, I contemplated whether getting a babysitter (free, albeit, as Barb would never take our money) was giving up. Was running without the triple stroller taking the easy way out? Was I giving up? The words of my beloved prenatal yoga teacher, Lara Catone, (http://laracatone.com) came into my head, "Just as the waves of the ocean have an ebb and flow, a rush and a calm, so do contractions. Lose control, give in." Secede control. Sometimes that's what we need to do most of all. And so I that is what I did yesterday. I did not give up, rather I gave in.

What are some ways that you give in, rather than give up? I believe the difference is subtle yet distinct.

Giving into nature. Cesia, Flagstaff, Arizona. December 2013.

Fitting it all in...

I feel like one common theme among my blogs and thoughts lately has been fitting it all in. This is a hotly gossiped topic among moms and athletes and athlete-moms. How in the world do you fit it in? Sometimes it can all seem so tricky to just fit everything in and I suppose that is where priorities come into play. Many nights post-kids bedtime I find myself sticky, exhausted and complaining to Alan, "I didn't even have 2 minutes to shower today." I could not find anytime to pick up those overdue shirts at the dry cleaner or buy that shaving cream that has been at the top of my Target list for over two weeks now. And that stack of bills on the counter that are all ready to go out minus the stamps, yeah they require me to go to the postoffice or a major Supermarket (Trader Joe's and Whole Foods don't carry stamps, darn it). So I never got my 2 minute shower, but I did manage to run for 90 minutes and cook dinner for another 120 minutes (in shifts - prep some here, chop some there, saute some later, put it all together in the oven even later).

It is all about priorities. I have come to realize that my kids are priority #1. Making sure they are well fed and well rested are the main goal. When those two items are reached, everything else seems to fall in place. Many days, just assuring those two things mean we don't leave the house much. Isaac tends to nap about 9-noon, we eat lunch together, then Cesia is ready to nap 1-3 and just as she wakes Isaac is ready for nap #2 from 3-4. He wakes hungry, the girls are starving and cranky and dinner commences by 5pm and then straight to bath and bedtime routine. Somehow the days just fly by. How do I find time to run? We squeeze it in. More often than not I am dressed in running clothes the entire day, just waiting for the perfect opportunity to load up the stroller and hit the streets with our triple-wide jogger.

Lately those runs have been "Nap Runs." These are my favorite -- double check marks off the to-do list type runs. Kid needs an afternoon nap, might as well run! Girls are cranky and need some quiet time, let's go run! Isaac is sick (yet again, thanks to preschool germs brought home by big sisters) and Mama needs a break from holding a 20-lb lethargic miserable baby, load up the stroller and run run run!

We spent yesterday afternoon in sunny Santa Monica visiting some of our first "parent" friends whom I met during prenatal yoga classes while pregnant with Adara 5 years ago now. Five years later and many birthday celebrations and playdates enjoyed over the years with our 5 total kids (3 of ours, 2 of theirs), we had our final westside visit before they move north to Seattle for new jobs and new adventures in just a few short weeks. I always take advantage of the "flats" in Santa Monica while visiting them. As much as I love living just minutes from the mountains and have become a total trail runner, I am amazed by my speed and ease every time I take the kids for a run on the westside boardwalks. It's so flat and fast! 90 minutes with Isaac felt like 20 yesterday, as I zipped in and out of rollerbladers, cyclists and skaters along the Pacific Ocean the whole time watching my little 1 year old peacefully dream. It was one of those picture-perfect, couldn't have planned it better days, where we were able to fit it all in. Isaac got his 3 hour morning nap while the rest of us did house chores, Alan got in a 2 hr mountain bike ride, I ran 90 minutes, they saw Alice in Wonderland at the Santa Monica playhouse, we all caught up over a healthy delicious dinner at Blue Plate on Montana Ave and the kids fell asleep on the drive back over the hill. It was a good Saturday and everyone is happy, well rested and well fed. That is priorities.

How do you fit it all in? Any special tips or tricks? What sits at the top of your priority list? Mine looks like this:

#1 Family
#2 Running
#3 Cooking
#4 Nursery School Board Duties
#5 Blogging
#6 Cleaning/Errands/Chores
#7 A big long MIS-CELL-AN-E-OUS (which, these days, includes showering) : )

In a Happy Place

This new year has started out most beautifully. We seem to have turned a corner, survived the first year with three kids under 5 (we were 3 under 3.5 at this time last year!) and have been comfortably sitting in a very happy place right now. Some things that have been making me smile lately:

1. Isaac sleeping. After spending Christmas break visiting family and staying in close quarters, Isaac got accustomed to 2-3 middle of the night nursing breaks. Exhausted and desperately ready to sleep through the night again, we participated in Sleep Training Round 5 and it was a total success. After maybe three nights of crying/whining intermittently, he is back to sleeping like a champ. In bed by 6:30pm, he cries out between 4:30-6am, I fill his tummy with warm milk and he is back to sleep anywhere from 7:30-9:30am. Wednesday morning he finally rolled over at 9:45am after a 15 hr slumber. No complaints here!

2. Mornings spent cooking. Since Isaac has been sleeping in, I have been capitalizing on my "hands-free time" (i.e., arms are free from not holding a baby) by cooking dinner with Cesia. She has always been my sous chef and is lured in the kitchen by the possibility to eat more food! "Is this a licking recipe?" she always asks. Middle child is ecstatic to get any special time with Mama, and cooking is where that often happens. Adara is happy playing on her own after breakfast and retreats either to her room with books or downstairs with blocks and dolls while Cesia and I prep and cook family dinners. One of the most satisfying parts of my day is to spend time dicing fresh veggies and herbs, simmering homemade vegetable broth (so easy and so delicious - now part of our daily routine), experimenting with new recipes from Vegetable Literacy or Esalen Kitchen cookbook (thanks Auntie M and neighbor/friend Jayn!) and having dinner ready by 9:00am. This leaves the afternoons stress-free and full of play as we know dinner is ready in the fridge to be reheated on the stove and on the table when little bellies are hungry.

3. Family playtime. Last week Cesia initiated playing with Isaac for the first time, ever. As crazy as I am about my little boy, I do realize that up until now he really did not provide much fun for a 2 year old. In the past week, that has changed. Able to engage, laugh and reciprocate, Isaac is the playmate of the house. The girls have clearly sensed the changes and rapid developments he has made and seek him out for fun. Whether it's passing blocks back and forth, back and forth, reading books togethers, playing family, setting up the dollhouse or building with oversized lego's, all three have been enjoying each other so much lately. For the first time I can sit back and observe (though, let's be honest, I'm not actually sitting, rather cooking and peeking down on them, listening and eavesdropping on their conversations). "You are such a sweetie, Isaac," "Thank you, back to you, thank you, back to you," "Let's go find snowball together!" are all heartwarming phrases I've heard a lot lately from my two growing girls.

They even let him in the bath with them now! He used to go so crazy and splash them, the girls begged to take separate baths from little brother.

Picking weeds and cultivating our yard.

Climbing fences.

Little brother loves to be outside and show off his new trick of climbing up the slide and then sliding down head first!

4. Park play. We had our first fun park visit in way too long yesterday. Parks are challenging for me. I spent many long mornings at the park alone with Adara when it was just us. Cesia came along and we spent many long afternoons there just the three of us. Then came Isaac and everyone wanted me for push them in the swing or watch them slide down the giant bumpy slide or carry them across the hot sand or, or, or.. It just wasn't any fun for me anymore. Isaac ate fistful after fistful of sand, choked on sticks he dug up and the girls whined as I couldn't give them enough attention. So we have mostly avoided the park. Until yesterday. With Isaac in this new awesome phase of life, he is so much fun, learning huge new things everyday and just wants to play! So we tried out the park scene again and had a blast. All three went on the swings together, all three build sand castles together, all three climbed the play structures, jumped, slid, ran and explored together. How I love these three kids so much right now.

5. Triple stroller running. Christmas break provided a nice respite from the triple. I did bring the single Bob just in case. I have some separation anxiety when it comes to traveling without a running stroller. However, the Bob happily remained parked in the garage while I ran alone every morning. As much as I did enjoy the break from pushing 50-120+ lbs of weight, I missed the company on every single run. Back home and on full time mommy duty, weekday runs are once again triple stroller time. Tuesday's schedule called for 8 x 400m at 5K pace (90 s) with 400 m jogs in between. I feared this workout with the triple. However, with a Church meeting I had to attend in the evening and Alan leaving the house before 7am, I knew that was my only option. We ran 1.5 miles down to the flats and I pushed that triple for the workout of my life. Superpowers of the triple stroller were in full force. My three little cheerleaders got me through the 90 s intervals with lots of "Go, Mama, Go's!" and we chatted away on the recovery jogs in between. Right as we finished the final fast 400m, Cesia closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep. Not bad, I thought, Interval workout completed and child put to sleep. 

First run on the new year on 1/1. Missing one kid though, as Adara
luckily got to play at her friend's house while I ran Cesia to sleep.

6. Outside the Box Take 3. Now that my boy is finally sleeping more at night, he can actually stay awake during the day and have some fun. He is also on more of a routine schedule so I can plan some things ahead - like taking him to Outside the Box (OTB) classes, http://www.otbee.com. Adara grew up at OTB. Knowing zero Mamas or babies in our neighborhood when I first had her, a Santa Monica friend referred us to OTB. We attended our first class when she was only 4 months old and couldn't even sit up. They placed her in a baby-pool full of room temperature spaghetti, along with 6 other babies. She screamed her head off. We went back the following week and 5x/week from then on until Cesia was born. OTB is where we went to make friends, learn, develop our brains, stimulate our senses and spend our most precious days together. I am so happy to finally be back there with Isaac, if only for 1 hr class/week. I can not say enough about their program.

Isaac playing in the bead bucket at OTB!

These are just some things that have been making me smile this January. We are in a very happy place, indeed. What have you been smiling about so far this year? Are you in a happy place or challenging place? Wherever you are, I wish you peace, love and patience.

Run to the Mountains

Forward: Written on 12/29/13 on the road home from Albuquerque Christmas Break. Posted now after reflecting on it and finally finding time to publish.



Yesterday morning marked my longest run in years. My self-created half-marathon training plan called for a 90 minute distance run. Not fast, yet not easy. No matter what pace you are moving, pounding your legs in repetitive motion for an hour and a half is hard. Simple as that. On our final day in Albuquerque, I ran to the mountains. Just me, my legs and my thoughts alone out there in the late morning sun.

I don't run with music. In fact, I have only run with headphones one time ever in 14 or so years of running. For Christmas 2001, my parents gave me a handheld portable cassette player designed for running complete with a bicep attachment and headphones. (This still sits in our TV console at this minute.) Excitedly, I dressed for a 5 degree blistery Chicago winter run with my new sound device. Within minutes I knew running with music was not for me. I hated it. Suddenly something so peaceful became so noisy. I felt surrounded by chaos, a cacophony following each stride.

I love running for its reflective possibilities. I love to be out there alone, with my thoughts or with a good friend enjoying meaningful conversations on life and living it to its fullest, being in the moment, appreciating nature and all its beauty. I write while running. I always have. I remember utilizing long runs in high school to complete full essays, book reviews and afterwards dashing straight to our shared family computer to type the words in my head before they were forever lost. I still write while running. Running is my quiet time, my meditation. Music ruins that for me.

While running to the mountains yesterday I had a lot of mediation time. Long runs are particularly good for that. I thought mostly of love and running and challenges and how the three come together. Distance running, much like love, takes work. To the outsider, each may appear effortless. I spotted only a handful of runners out on the Albuquerque streets during my 90 minutes but every single one looked to be a smooth, seasoned and serious runner. I marveled at how "easy" running looked for them. I was sure some shared my thoughts - mistaking my running as effortless as well. But that's the thing about distance running -- it is never effortless. It's work. It's hard. Yes, moments out there were easy, moments where I felt like a machine, legs churning, muscles flexing and carrying me along those empty sunny roads. Between those moments came challenges - mental reminders to keep on going, lift those quads, land on the forefeet, keep the neck still, relax the arms and legs please don't fail me now.

Love is like that, too. To the outsider, marriages and relationships all too often appear effortless. People put up facades and we hope our friends are truly as happy as they seem. Many are, but that still does not mean that relationships are easy. My husband is my best friend and I am blessed by our mutual love and respect and understanding for each other. Despite all of this, we would be lying if we said love always came easy. There are hard days, there are challenges, distractions, kids. As a mother, I give so much of myself to my kids that at times I feel like there is nothing left at the end of the day. Like a sponge I am squeezed out and hung to dry each night after bath time, only to be used again to wipe faces clean in the morning. There is nothing left to share with my husband, or myself. There are moments when it all feels like work, when we make mental checks and reminders to be kind, be patient, heart and mind please don't fail me now.

Just like in distance running, we keep on going. We climb the mountains. We work hard, we reflect, we think positive thoughts and we find happiness. We find love.

A few pictures from our final day in Albuquerque and the drive home:

Playing in the backseat at a roadside truck stop.

Sleeping Cesia, my angel.

Energized and happy after a 20 minute cat-nap,  just 50 miles outside of Los Angeles. Home, sweet home.

Solemates

The year 2014 is a new year with new goals. Two goals that sit at the top of my list are to give back to local organizations that I am passionate about, and to run a marathon. My older sister, Denise, and I share these goals. She has run one marathon already - the San Diego Rock 'N Roll - a few years back, just 1 day before I found out I was carrying sweet baby Isaac within me. Since watching her complete the marathon in just under 4 hours hardly breaking a sweat, smiling and dancing at the end, my heart has yearned to run 26.2 miles. Other plans were clearly in store for me when I discovered that (surprise!) I was pregnant for the third time in as many years, and for that surprise I am incredibly grateful. How wonderful it is that life doesn't always go according to plan! 

In just 10 days Isaac will celebrate his first birthday. The rapidity of life never ceases to amaze me. I will never forget that memorable Monday in which I returned home from a double stroller run with my girls feeling a little bit of stretching in my belly and moments later discovered that indeed there was a precious little one expanding himself within. I won't lie, that moment of discovery terrified me. I had plans, for heavens sake. I wanted to run a marathon, I was fit, possibly in the best shape of my life. I was selfish, I feared having to start all over again and feared that I couldn't do it. Maybe I would never run a marathon now, being pregnant again, going through the process of gaining weight, losing fitness, etc. etc. These thoughts crowded my mind.

One year and 9 months later, I realize how silly I was. As women, our bodies are made to do this. Our bodies and souls were created to stretch and grow for the sake of new life and beauty. My body has now stretched and contracted itself three times and has created so much beauty for this world. Though it does take time post-partum to feel like yourself again and be fit and active, it happens. Less than one year since my son's birth I just may be in the best shape of my life again. More importantly, I am healthy and happy and love my body. I love it for it's capacity to stretch and grow. It has taken me years to feel such love for myself.

As a mother of two daughters, I pray that my girls will always have the same love and respect for their bodies as they possess today. We have an old scale in our house, tucked away in the bathroom cupboard. Cesia pulled it out the other day, hopped on and excitedly shouted, "Mama, what does it say?!" "28.2," I responded. "Yay, that's exactly what I wanted!" she replied. In that moment, a huge smile spread across my face. I believe that is how we should all feel upon stepping on the scale. The number that appears is a number and that is all. It doesn't make us, or represent us, we are not made any more whole by that number. It is just a number and should be exactly what we wanted in that moment.

One organization that is helping girls feel positive in their bodies and live stronger, healthier, happier lives is Girls on the Run. I first became involved with Girls on the Run (GOTR) of Chicago back in High School when my father led a local site on the south side of Chicago for elementary school aged girls. Then in 2005, while in college in California, I became involved with the GOTR SoCal organization. I coached at Mar Vista Elementary school for a few seasons and worked as an intern in the local office as an administrative assistant, preparing packets and materials for all GOTR SoCal coaches and local sites. 

GOTR is a life skills running program for girls ages 8-13. The program combines training for a non-competitive 5K with lessons that inspire adolescent females to recognize their individual strengths and talents. The program encourages positive emotional, social, mental, spiritual and physical development. With a detailed curriculum of games, activities, discussions, and running, girls experience the joy of simply being themselves. How wonderful is that! 

At the end of 2013, Denise and I registered to run the LA Marathon as a relay charity team. She will complete the first 13.1 miles and then hand her figurative baton to me as I finish the final 13.1 miles, running for local LA girls. As Girls on the Run SoleMates, we have volunteered to raise $250 each for the non-profit organization. I am asking you to please help me in my fundraising efforts to support such a wonderful local organization. If each one of my readers contributed just $1 I would surpass my fundraising goals. A little goes a long way! 100% of contributions will go towards sponsoring adolescent girls to participate in GOTR LA programs, girls who would otherwise not be able to afford it. Your contributions -- however large or small -- will make a lifelong difference in the journey of young girls. I believe that if girls are told they are strong and beautiful and made to feel as such, they will accomplish amazing feats.

Please help support us by clicking on this link: http://www.active.com/donate/gotrlasolemates13/smCJacobs

Thank you so much in advance! I will keep you updated on training and fundraising for the LA Charity Marathon Relay - in which I am so excited to participate in on March 9, 2014!

Check out the GOTR-LA website for more information or to get involved! They are doing amazing things. http://gotrlosangeles.org

Wrap your joy...

Yesterday morning, amidst the wrapping and unwrapping of presents, a family friend and neighbor in Albuquerque stopped by my in-laws house where we are staying. He has been reading my blog and offered up a beautifully poetic compliment: "You wrap your joy around your reality."

I reflected on these words during my run this morning. With each stride I felt more thankful and blessed for his kind statement. His words were incredibly supportive and perfectly fitting. What more can I do in this life than strive to wrap reality with my joy.

Life is hard, there is no use in denying it. So is running. But both can bring us so much joy if we allow it to seep into our lives. Some days are harder than others. Christmas time and the final week of the year can bite us harder than other days. These days are spent reflecting on the year behind us, analyzing our successes and failures, our growths and setbacks, measuring what we have learned and what we wish to forget, recalling our regrets and our blessings and planning how we will do it all again in the year ahead. Each new year provides us with a fresh start, a feeling of carpe diem.

Adara and Gpa walking to feed the ducks at UNM. Christmas Eve 2013.

I am a strong believer that our thoughts create our destiny. We can choose to dwell on the negative and the challenges that make up our life, or we can choose joy. As this neighbor pointed out, I choose joy. We create our own joy. We can not always create our own reality. Post Christmas-morning bit harder than most, quite literally. Isaac is teething hard, woke every couple of hours whining last night and has begun a nasty habit of biting me while nursing. Biting so hard that I am left bloody, burning and in pain. This morning's 5:30am bite sent me back to bad in tears. As physically painful as the biting hurt, the emotional sting was worse. I can not help but feel that he is rejecting me. My Isaac, my last baby, is cutting this mother-babe-nursing relationship off and I am just not ready. I have been through this rejection before, it is nothing new to me, though the biting is new. Both my girls rejected my nourishment between 10-11 months. Still, it hurts every time. Just like the end to any relationship, it hurts being rejected, dumped, pushed aside. As my final nursing relationship, I had planned to extend this a bit longer, at least a few months. I planned to take some final pictures, savor the last feedings. Reality has hit, teeth marks have been made, blood has been shed and I must move on.

My Isaac love, still crawling and keeping his babyhood alive.

Letting go is hard. From experience, I know the hormonal shift my brain and body are about to experience. I know the side-effects. After months of oxytocin flooding my brain every couple of hours of every single day, while sitting on a rocker, cuddling my babe and holding him to my breast, I must let go. I must make this life-change positive. Wrap it with joy! And so I climbed out of bed shortly after 6 o'clock, swallowed my tears, drank a cup of some of the best coffee on this planet (roasted by my brother-in-law/coffee roaster/buyer/expert), played with my kids and their new Christmas presents, put Isaac down for a nap and hit the road running. One hour later I was back home and at peace, ready to begin the weaning process and ready for my body and head to heal. Ready to wrap some joy around my reality. Life is hard but it can also be joyful. Wishing you all a holiday season full of love, laughter and joy!

Cesia enjoying a hot chocolate at Winning Coffee Shop,

home of coffee roaster extraordinaire, Matt Jacobsen.

Albuquerque, New Mexico.

Big sister savoring her hot cocoa at Winning.

After note: This past month has been especially busy for me, as for many of you I expect. December was focused much more on doing than reflecting for me and boy, have we done a lot. I have many posts to catch up on including: updates on half-marathon training, registering for the LA Marathon Relay as a Girls on the Run SoleMate, 2014 Marathon thoughts, our 2nd Annual Kid's North Pole Party where we hosted 18 toddlers who overflowed with joy, experienced our first family road trip to Albuquerque via Prescott where we stopped to meet new cousins and after 14 hours in the car together, grew even closer. I have lots of catching up to do, lots of plans for this blog in 2014 and lots of thanks to you -- all my readers. Please know that I am thankful for every one of you who have read my blog in 2013. I have big plans for the year ahead and look forward to sharing them with all of you soon! Thank you for sharing your time with me, for letting my thoughts seep into yours and for commenting and inspiring and motivating me. Wrap yourself with joy!

Mountains in the background and peaceful slumbers on the road.

 

And more peaceful slumbers.

 

Best part of the road trip: sitting next to this boy for 14 hours and watching him laugh, and sleep.

 

 

  

Cheers for relaxing final days of 2013!

Good Enough

Whatever happened to the "Good Enough Mother?" Though I often hear this term thrown around, I can not help but feel like no one really believes in it -- sometimes, myself included. Perhaps the problem lies inherently in the title "good enough." No one strives for mediocrity and who really wants to be called "good enough" at their job anyway? Or perhaps we just need a reminder. We are good enough.

The "Good Enough Mother" theory was proposed by Winnicot in 1952 and in doing so he raised up new mothers with the notion that mother knows best. Winnicot wrote that, "A good enough mother learns best how to look after her baby not from health professionals and self-help books but from having been a baby herself. She acts naturally." (Winnicott, 1988). Winnicott suggested that during pregnancy and the first few months postpartum, the mother undergoes a "state of heightened sensitivity." After those early months, the mother then experiences a "flight into sanity" where she begins to exist outside of her state of "primary maternal occupation" with her newborn. The "Good Enough Mother" then continues providing an environment which facilitates healthy maturational processes in her baby. She is the principal individual who protects, cares for and meets her baby's need for emotional attachment and love. Winnicot wrote that there are ".. very subtle things that the mother knows intuitively and without any intellectual appreciation of what is happening, and which she can only arrive at by being left alone and given full responsibility..." (Winnicott, 1988).

Though I constantly find myself striving to be more or the best (me), I do believe in Winnicot's theory of the "Good Enough Mother" and that as mothers, we are good enough. But then why do we often feel so inadequate? From the time Adara was a newborn and crying her lungs out in the aisles of Target, perfect strangers have approached to inform me that my baby was crying "because she is really cold" or "because she is hungry," or "because she is dressed much to warmly for this weather." Parents and grandparents and siblings and neighbors and even our own friends like to comment on our parenting. Everyone seems to know better than the mother. (Disclaimer: I am in no way pointing out anyone personally, and my own parents and in-laws are wonderful and supportive in every way. Thank you, because Lord knows I'm not a perfect mother, but I do believe I am good enough.)

In the community in which I am blessed to live, I find myself constantly surrounded by the most amazing of mothers. Mothers who lead weekly music lessons in their home, who spend hours everyday with their kids exploring on the trails or with art, letting their kids get messy because they know the importance of that. Mothers who share their love of cooking with their children by making elaborate, healthy meals on a daily basis to be shared over a loving dinner table where they discuss their day and their favorite moments and what made them happy and building up their self-esteem along the way. Mothers who inspire and motivate me, who cheer me up and support me and love me.

Amongst such wonderful mothers, sometimes I just feel that there is so much to live up to. There is so much that I want to do and all at the same time. This takes me back to one of my very favorite quotes by Jack Kerouac, which I have shared on this blog previously, "The only ones for me are the mad ones, mad to live, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time..."

That quote sums up my December thus far. I am realizing that at this time of year, more than any other, I want more out of life. I want every moment to be magical. Christmas has always been the most wonderful time of the year, full of this unadulterated spirit, and I want it to be the same for my kids. So while I don't feel overwhelmed, necessarily, I do feel like I'm trying to jam everything in just so that nothing gets left out.

Monday morning I drank a cup of coffee, I don't typically drink anything stronger than Irish Breakfast Tea, and oh boy did it get me going. We made Snowman pancakes complete with eyes, clementine noses and arms, yogurt smiles and black fig top hats. Next we were off to school, where the heaters were broken and hardworking selfless teachers were literally running to get everything set up for their own busy day of Christmas crafts with the kids. Back home, baby nursed to sleep and ready to relax on the couch and possibly catch up on bills or other home chores, I impulsively decided to put all those tasks on the back burner and get some lentil soup simmering on the front to bring in to those very teachers. But then, something had to go with that lentil soup, of course, so why not cook up some homemade cornbread! Brilliant!

Adara's Snowman Pancake -- before he was devoured within seconds. Yes, that is a gingerbread man pancake in the bottom circle. Too much Christmas fun to be had and we wanted it all.

A mere thirty minutes later and Isaac was standing in his crib, ready to play. I love our house, but it is tiny and babies' ears are sensitive. I have tried hundreds of times over four years of naps now, but I just can't cook and have my kids sleep through it. Oh well, I knew that was a risk this morning and my spirit was in the giving-mood, so with Isaac slung onto my left hip, we finished cooking that French lentil soup and homemade cornbread and loaded into the car once more to drop it off. While we're at it, why don't I pop in each of the girls' classes and read a Christmas story? I thought. Thirty minutes and two readings of "The Polar Express" later (hardcover version from one magical Christmas when I was about 7 years old), we were back in the car and headed home so the starving baby could eat some lunch. Lunch consumed and cleaned, I loaded baby boy into the triple stroller to pick up his sisters from school. I couldn't help but laugh that Isaac must think I'm a madwoman, with all this running around (quite literally). Yes, I am good at laughing at myself. : )

Last night, I was no better. Alan is out of town, the kids were all asleep by 7:30pm and I was left with a headache from forgetting to drink water all afternoon. Oops! Mental reminder #107: Take care of yourself. I was about to pass out on the couch when I discovered some cute Christmas bento box lunch ideas online. Fast forward two hours and I am in the kitchen, prepping up the girls' lunches with cute little gingerbread man cheese cut-outs and Snowmen fruit kebabs. (And Yes, these then fell on the sandy floor of our minivan this morning right as we were unloading and Cesia decided to open up her lunchbox to see what I had packed her. And Yes, I nearly cried before spending the next 10 minutes washing every cutie and cheese slice and other semi-salvageable item in the school sink to rid them of sand.) Two newly created word documents contained the cutest of cutest Christmas food ideas for our annual North Pole Party coming up next week. Two additional pages contained holiday crafts, homemade play dough recipes, and lots of home-learning fun ideas. It was past 11pm before I made myself retire for the night.

I awoke this morning with a long mental to-do list and even considered getting started at it after Isaac's 4am milk break. "Perhaps I should start waking up at this time everyday just to get stuff done," I seriously thought to myself. Alas, Cesia came rushing down the hall for a bathroom break and after some canoodling, finally cuddled up in bed with me and we were both back to sleep until Adara found us at 7am. Thank you, 2-and-a-half year old for giving me some sanity and luring me back to bed at 4am.

My sleeping angel - from an afternoon nap via run this week.

By the time 7am came around, my to-do list had somehow grown since 4 o'clock. It is already mid-December and there is just so much fun to be had. How do you fit in everything? How do you feel "Good Enough" or do you? How do you keep from feeling inadequate? Do you wrestle with the compulsion to be and do so much more? Do you feel guilty when you don't make homemade playdough or don't have a home cooked meal on the table each night for dinner? I know it sounds ridiculous, but these are the things I find myself worrying about at 4am.

Lately I feel as if I am in this place where I want to spend every second teaching my kids, through cooking, making crafts, exploring trails, running, dancing, yoga class, gymnastics class yet still saving time for naps and free play and nightly relaxing family dinners and long baths and storytime. Am I still a "Good Enough Mother" if I don't make homemade playdough? If I serve frozen pizza for dinner? If I don't do every craft in my 2-page document? I am meeting their needs, I am providing attachment and love. And you know what, they go crazy for store-bought playdough. Go figure! Sometimes we just need a reminder that we are the "Good Enough Mother" and that in and of itself is enough. Just look in your babies eyes and you will know it.

Does this baby look like he's attached and loved.
You betcha!