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a nugget of wisdom

/ Jo Bird / 3 Comments

I never cease to be a little embarrassed when an old adage finally clicks in my brain and I realize that these sayings we have heard all our lives are repeated for a reason.

Biggest cliche: “Live in the moment.” Turns out to be a profound truth after all.

Last week someone challenged me to “live in the moment”, particularly the moments when I was feeling the least amorous to my children. You know, like that moment of Candyland where I want to throw the game across the room if I have to remind someone one more time that it is their turn.

So I did it. When my patience started to wane I took a deep breath and tried to appreciate the moment.

It works.

I just started reading a book that I have high hopes will teach me to be more present and still. I’m anticipating further insights that I look forward to sharing.

brave or naive?

/ Jo Bird / 5 Comments

Over Christmas we decided to try and have pictures taken of the six grandchildren, ages 4 and under. I’m not sure if it was brave or naive of us. I’m posting the pictures for the benefit of my brother Evan who is on a mission on the other side of the world. He hasn’t even met any of his nieces yet. For his sake I won’t mention anything about a countdown…

snip snip

/ Jo Bird / 11 Comments
One of my goals for 2009 was to donate my hair to Locks of Love. Those prenatal vitamins can really do a head of hair a favor so it seemed like the perfect time. Due to the business of a new baby and the holidays I didn’t get it done during 2009. But what better way to kick off 2010 than a new hair-do?

It’s kind of wierd to see my hair lying around. I need to ship it away soon.

Brooke cut 11 inches at first and then cut another inch or two after that. It was a lot of hair. I can see how it is a sacrifice for some to lose that much hair at once. For me the sacrifice was having that much hair on my head. I’m relieved to have it gone.

Haiti

/ Jo Bird / 2 Comments

I feel as though I can not go on blogging without acknowledging this. And yet I don’t know what to say.

One thing I have learned about myself is that sometimes it feels good to feel even if the something I am feeling is sadness.

So this is a mourning post. This is my effort to carry, if I could, a tiny part of a tremendous burden.

God bless Haiti.

jammies

/ Jo Bird / 3 Comments

I’m sure there aren’t any parents out there who have ever harbored ill feelings toward their newborn for those frequent nocturnal disturbances. But on the off chance that there are individuals who could use a little something to motivate them out of their beds as the infant whimpers arouse them from slumber, I’ve discovered a trick.

Adorable jammies. Just seeing her all cozy in her polka-dot footsies and I can’t wait to have her in my arms. These are my favorites and I just want to nuzzle her up the instant I see her in them.


Yep, even at 2:00am.

** For clarification, my birthday is not until February. Yesterdays post was just my thoughts on aging, not a birthday lament. Not yet.

the late twenties

/ Jo Bird / 10 Comments

I’ve noticed lately that I am encroaching on “soccer mom” status. My kids aren’t yet involved in out-of-the-home activities that have me playing the part of chauffeur but for all other intents and purposes (married, middle-class, suburban mother of three) I fit the bill.

Growing up I remember adults approaching thirty make comments about how they still felt twenty. Now I am one of those adults. Ignoring the fact that I have a four year old I would swear I still was twenty.

But alas it has become clear to me in recent days that I am not twenty. Or twenty-one. Or even twenty-five.

It first happened as I dropped off a load at D.I. the other day. A sharp looking young man came out to help collect my rejected belongings. (The fact that I used the word “sharp” to describe a “young man” is evidence enough, no?) I felt so hip because as I popped the trunk I knew he could hear that I was listening to Beyonce. I like Beyonce. I listen to her to feel young and hip. But then as I drove away it occurred to me: “Jo, who are you kidding? You are driving a minivan.”

My other problem is that either because I am too busy or I don’t like what I see, I rarely take the opportunity to look in the mirror. I suppose most of my efforts go to making sure my children look decent. Sadly though, I have frequently left the house without make-up because of this. And the other day a friend came by to drop something off and I had chocolate cake mix on my nose.

It had been hours since I baked the chocolate cake.

I guess approaching thirty is like going bald. You just have to embrace it. Don’t endure it, love it. Glory in maturity. Live it up before you turn 40. (Heaven forbid!)

Oh, and did I mention I am actually only turning 28?

talk about karma

/ Jo Bird / 13 Comments

I guess I had it coming. All that nonsense about pink. I got pink alright. Somehow a magenta crayon made its way into the dryer during a cycle that contained the boys’s lights. Now all my children have pink clothes. I was much less delighted to find pink lint this time.
To all the mothers of only boys, I am sorry for being so insensitive. This must be my well-deserved comeuppance for gloating about girliness.

a Christmas to remember

/ Jo Bird / 4 Comments
I’m an idealist. Or in other words I have unrealistic expectations.

This was how I imagined Christmas at our house:

We would put together a plate of cookies for Santa and the reindeer with the children. Then they would go to bed cheerily to dream of sugar plums. (Whatever those are…) Richard and I would prepare the gifts with broad smiles and butterflies of anticipation before settling down for our long winter’s nap. (You are beginning to see my unrealistic expectations, afterall, we have a newborn.) In the morning the boys would rise early full of thrill and would laugh and squeal with delight as they excitedly opened their gifts.

This is how our Christmas unfolded.

Richard and I suggested we leave a plate of cookies for Santa and the boys threw a fit. They wanted the cookies for themselves. The fit evolved into all-out tantrums by the time we got them to bed so Richard and I wrapped the gifts in a grumpy pout trying to figure out how our children became so selfish. We considered not giving them the gifts at all, but naturally I still had high hopes for the morning. Cameron fulfilled my expectations and awoke excited and was delighted with his gifts. Eli seemed to be in the same funk he was at bedtime and refused to look in his stocking. He expressed little emotion as we helped him open his gifts. Richard and I couldn’t believe that a kid could be so pathetic on Christmas morning. Just as we were about to finish up the festivities Eli threw up everywhere. Merry Christmas.

We felt awful blaming his bad mood on his tempermental nature. After things were cleaned up and he rested for a little while he felt wonderful and his holiday excitement surfaced. Sadly the gifts were all unwrapped and I think he felt robbed of Christmas. Thank goodness for grandparents.

Of course now that Christmas is two weeks past, all the boys can talk about is what they want next year. There’s nothing like reality to help adjust expectations.

heck of a night

/ Jo Bird / 2 Comments

Monday after work I stopped at the store. It was the night of the big game, Feista Bowl 2010. It was jam packed with folks in BSU gear buying alcoholic beverages. Excitement was in the air.

Let me just say this. I’m a loyal citizen of Bronco Nation. I love coach Pete. I’m proud of Kyle Efaw for modestly admitting that the Broncos are “probably not” #1 in the nation. I forgive you Brandyn Thompson for getting burned on that touchdown pass since you had two interceptions. And Brotzman, you redeemed yourself from that missed field goal with that sneaky conversion on fourth down. What a game.

Can’t wait for September blue and orange.

POST EDIT:

That’s how I felt as I lay in bed last night. Those were the words I wanted to write this morning.

What a game.

But somewhere during the dark hours my anxiety and nerves from the game took the form of digestive failure. I’ll put it this way, my bad food choices during the football game have gone the way of the sewage and I get a clean slate for my New Year’s diet. Little did I know that when the team dumped the cooler of gatorade on Coach Pete it would be a preview of coming attractions for the first day of my 2010 diet.

I am rethinking my fan-dom now. I’m glad I have 8 months to do it.