The Magic that Happens When You Put the Phone Away

I was sitting at my son's basketball game last night, talking to a friend whose smart phone recently died.

She's been using a "non-smart" replacement phone for a couple of weeks until she can get a new iPhone with her plan renewal, but in the process, she's noticed something that I think will resonate with all of us.

A smart phone can often become more of a distraction than a help.

And by always being available to "everyone else," we, as mothers, are becoming unavailable to our families.

Have you felt that, too?

There has been lots of talk about what role "the phone" plays in motherhood, and I think we're all trying to figure out the right balance, but it's become more and more clear to me in the past few months that I have to be extremely deliberate about how much time and attention I give this iPhone of mine.

Because there is something else that matters more.

A few weeks ago, I decided that I would only check my email and text messages at certain intervals during the day.

Wow, that was hard (but I'm keeping at it, and it's making a big difference!  More on that below . . .).

On one Friday afternoon, I picked up Spencer from kindergarten just four hours before I needed to leave to our L.A. Power of Moms Retreat.

There were some last-minute emails flying around and a few logistics I needed to figure out, but as I got out of the van, I resisted the urge to check my phone for any incoming messages.

"Hey Mom!  Do you know there's a black car down the street that looks just like my friend Phoenix's?"  Spencer asked.

"No, I didn't know that.  What does it look like?"  I responded.

"It's kind of like a rectangle, and it's kind of long.  Do you want to go on a walk to go see it?"

It was raining outside, and I was hungry, and I still needed to pack things up and get the kids settled before I left.

Typically, I would have said, "Maybe another time, honey, but we need to get in for lunch."

But this time, I said, "Yes!  Yes I would like to go on a walk.  Do you want to take our umbrellas since you didn't get to take one to school today?"

(He'd had a bit of a meltdown that morning because he wanted an umbrella to use during the 90-second walk into the classroom, but we only have golf-sized ones, and he had a hood that worked just fine, so we didn't let him.)

Well, Spencer got the BIGGEST smile on his face, and we went into the garage to get our umbrellas, and then we walked up the street, checked out that cool black car that looked just like Phoenix's, and then made the two-minute walk back in the rain.

(I did take out my phone to snap a picture:)

And then I realized something about myself that pricked me in the heart a little bit.

I've let myself get too distracted by my phone and my task list and my schedule.  And I'm pretty sure I've missed out on some special moments like the one above.

There are all kinds of reasons and excuses--good ones--that I can provide, and I AM with my children for most of each day, but I don't want to miss chances to walk in the rain with my kids or paint nails on the kitchen floor with my daughters or laugh with my husband at night before I go to bed (because he is hilarious).

So I've made the decision that when my kids are around, I'm going to do everything I can to be accessible to them.  And that means I've been missing text messages and not responding to emails as quickly as before. 

But something sweet and precious and magical is happening in my life that I simply can't afford to miss.

Any other thoughts on this?  I'd appreciate anything you have to add.

Love,
April

These Photos Sum Up My Life

Spencer and I bonded during this sweet moment the other day.   I said "yes" to straws, and he wanted two in his drink, and then he wanted to share, and I was so excited to be drinking lemonade with my little cutie that I asked Alia to take some photos of us together.

And then this happened:

 That's not nice. 

These two pictures pretty much sum up my life right now.  One moment everyone is happy--singing songs around the piano, watching "parachute man" fly up above the gusty air conditioning unit in the backyard, or cracking pistachios like there's no tomorrow--and then a minute later it's like they've transformed into a bunch of crazies.

I learned long ago that it's silly to expect life to be wonderful 24/7.  We have to find happiness in snatches.  I'll keep focusing on photo #1, and I'll eventually laugh at photo #2.  Good, good times.

A Few Random Happy Thoughts

My husband has been gone for the past week, and I miss him like crazy.  He'll be walking in the door any minute, and my heart is fluttering like when we were dating.  It's funny how I don't appreciate how much he does for us until he's gone.  I've got to change that.

Before I close my computer for the night, I want to write about some happy things that have been going on in our home these past few days.  I'm still trying to figure out what I want this blog to be, and I don't know if anyone out there needs to know what I'm thinking, but if nothing else, I want to record the fact that my life isn't always crazy, and I'm not always stressed out (because that's how things have seemed for me lately).

Happy Thought #1:  Ten-year-olds are wonderful.  Today my daughter Alia spent an hour in the bathroom helping two-year-old Spencer practice using the potty.  She helped him get settled, brought him several popsicles, set up the fan in the corner of the bathroom when it got stuffy, and even carried the laptop in there so he could watch Barney on Netflix.  He didn't have an ounce of success, but it did my heart good to see my oldest helping my youngest.

(And yes, Grace, Ethan and Spencer, you are all wonderful, too.  I'll record more of the great things you do on another post.)

Happy Thought #2:  I am lucky to have my mom.  I spent yesterday in Long Beach, sitting by the bay with my mother (who is now in her mid-70s), enjoying the sun, and watching my children float around on their boogie boards.  We chatted and laughed, I told her all the things that scare me right now, and she hugged me and reassured me that everything would be okay.  Later that night, I came across this quotation:

"A mother is someone who knows the song in your heart and can sing it back to you when you have forgotten the words"  -Unknown.

I cried when I read that because that's exactly how I feel about my mom.  Whenever I doubt myself or feel down about my progress in life, I talk to my mom, and she "sings the song of my heart."  I want to be that way for my own children.

Happy Thought #3: De-junking a house can make you feel like you live in a mansion.  We have a comfortable home--I don't want to seem ungrateful.  It's just that with six bodies in our current floor plan, I sometimes feel squished.  These past two weeks, my children have helped me de-junk our whole house.  We've emptied, sorted, and organized every drawer, cupboard, and closet, and we rearranged all our furniture (thanks to the tips Saren gave me when she was here visiting).  Without spending a dime, I feel like I got a bigger house.  Love it.  (The BEST book I've found for de-junking is "It's Here...Somewhere."  If you need motivation and "how-tos," that's the book for you.)

Happy Thought #4: Eric's home!  Gotta run.  I'm so excited!

My Sweets and Sours

I've finally learned to accept the fact that every day has "sweets" and "sours" (thanks to my friend Tara who wrote a great article for The Power of Moms called, "But What Would My Sour Be?")

Here's a "sour" from last week:

I was having one of those mornings where I was trying to do too many things at once.  I wanted to exercise, clean the house, read with my children, and get everyone looking presentable and out the door by nine.  It didn't happen. 

During our morning clean-up, I asked my daughter to please go out to the garage to clean up her pencil shavings (that somehow got dumped all over the place).  When she got out there, she saw that the freezer door had been left open, and water had leaked all over the floor.  We spent the next 20 minutes emptying the freezer, mopping up water, and trying to be nice to each other--even though we were all feeling quite cranky.   

But then later that day, I had this "sweet":

We went to the park to play baseball, and my daughter Grace picked this dandelion bouquet for me.  I said, "Thank you, Grace, but I don't have anywhere to put it right now."   She said, "Just put it in your pocket!"  So I did.

Every time I looked down, I saw this sweet little gift poking out of the pocket of my jeans.  I couldn't help but smile and think, "This is what motherhood is all about."

Today is another day.  I know there are going to be sours, but I also know there are going to be many, many sweets.  You can't have one without the other, and I wouldn't trade them for anything.

Sweet Memories

The other day, I was helping my son pack for his first grade field trip to the tide pools.  We got his sack lunch together, and I asked, "Would it be okay if I wrote 'I love you' on the front of the bag?"

My son got a concerned look on his face and said, "No.  Everyone will laugh."

Then he brightened and said, "But you can write it on the inside!"

And there you have it: