Weening

So we have become the first attempts at weening in our parenting career! Yesterday we lost the last of LIncoln's soothers (or Chooch as we call them). So we decided that was it. He was beginning chew through them quite frequently so it really was becoming time to stop. Last night was the first night of no Chooch. And it was so much easier than I expected! He asked for it once, and Stephen explained that there was no more "chooch" and he didn't need it anymore. He still had a bit of a hard time trying to get to sleep, but no trantrum or meltdown. Then today at nap time he asked for it again and I simply said "No more chooch! How about this car?" And he completely forgot about it. Maybe I was the one holding us up! Maybe I wasn't ready to be 'weened' and he has been ready for quite some time! That's ok with me!!

Mothering

I find it hard to believe that anyone could truly, 100% of the time enjoy being a mother and didn't daydream of the times when all you had to worry about was yourself! I secretly long for those days as well, and then feel guilty. But then I quickly catch myself and think why do I feel guilty? Do I love being a mother and my children? Absolutely. WOuld I go back and not have them or even prolong having them? Absolutely not. Do I miss what life was like without children? Almost daily. So why the guilt? When I really think about it, I DON'T feel bad that I miss not being 'on-call' 24/7.
While on an over due and much needed date with my husband the other evening we were sitting in a movie theatre (a movie we both were very excited to see) and I found myself thinking "I wish I was at home with my boys."
But then when I am at home with my boys, for the fourth day in a row of not leaving the house I pine for the movie theatre....
A paradox indeed!
But isn't mothering in itself a paradox? We pour ourselves into our children so that they can one day be independent people, no longer in need of 24 hour care? The goal: to give them roots but also wings so they can fly, all at the same time....

The Cemetery

The Cemetery behind our house has become a very special place for our family. I know that may seem weird to some, but we have spent hours walking the path. It was my personal and private running path, beautiful beyond words in the summer evenings. It was where we first discovered that Lincoln loved to push the stroller, and could push it for a very, very long time! It was where we first saw some incredible compassion and sensitivity coming from Lincoln, as he walked among the children's headstone - most dating back 100 years, and gently kissing each lamp that sat atop the tiny grave markers.
We saw it as a beautiful park with history, not a place of death and unrest. It always caused us to hold our children a little closer, and speak to each other a little kinder as we were among the gentle reminder that life is short.
Last night we went for what will most likely be our last family walk in the cemetery, so I snapped a few photos.