Sneaux Day On The Bayou

The local news channel warned us of snow and ice on Friday morning, causing school cancellations and panic throughout our community.  Mentioning the words "freezing" and/or "ice" will push the residents of Louisiana into doomsday mode. But I went to bed on Thursday night filled with doubt: they're exaggerating, it rarely ever snows here, I'm sure we're overreacting.  As soon as I heard our two little girls come bounding down the stairs early Friday morning, however, I knew that I was wrong.

"It's snowing, it's snowing!!!", they yelled at the tops of their lungs, flinging the curtains up, showing us the yard filled with snow.  It was as if a big white magic carpet had landed in our yard overnight, covering our usually green filled world.  We got dressed as quickly as possible, laughing at our complete lack of snow appropriate gear. The girls ran around the yard, catching snowflakes in their mouths, shaking it out of their hair, and throwing snow at each other. It was coming down fast and hard and Brees said, "It's so cold and wet, Mom!", running back into the house and the warmth of the fire.  She took a while to warm up to the idea of playing in freezing cold ice, her Southern blood finding the whole experience pretty unnatural. She watched from the safety of the front door at first, waving to us, working up the courage to brave the cold.  It took a couple of hours and quite a few trips in and out of the house but she finally fell in love with the winter wonderland experience, playing with her little garden tools and chasing after her big sister.

We did every snow day activity we could think of: snowman building, snow angel making, snowball fighting, even snow sledding using one of our laundry baskets.  "This is so magical!!" I repeated over and over, marveling over the way the snow glittered across the front yard, how quiet and still everything felt.  Belle and I went on a hike in the woods behind our house and I really felt like we had been transported to a completely different world. The trees and trails and landscape that are so familiar to us all looked so incredible covered in that white, glittery powder. It was all so special to us because it only happens every decade or so.  We took it all in as though we may never see it again because, truthfully, we don't know if we ever will.  In and out, from sunrise to sunset, we played in the snow, the girls not wanting to come inside even as the grey sky turned dark.  And the best part: it was all still there when we woke up the next morning!  What a memorable weekend it was down on the snow covered bayou!

Getting It Right

Sometimes, when raising small children, you can feel pretty beat down.  The days can seem long, the battles hard fought.  The beauty and unconditional love that accompanies having kids can often be dampened by the actual work of raising them.  The times outs, no you can't have that, and day to day routine can often suck the life out of everyone.  The consistency and patience that are needed to produce positive outcomes often takes more energy than any of us can muster and we are left feeling guilty, incompetent, and completely out of control.  At least I do, anyway.

Sometimes, I don't know if I'm doing anything right.  This whole parenting thing doesn't come with a manual, you know?  And sometimes I wish that it did so that I could gauge our progress and know in my heart that we are getting it right.  But, it doesn't.  The only way that we know how well we are doing is by looking at our kids themselves.  Are they happy? Thriving? Content?  Do they believe in themselves and project positive attitudes?  Do they treat others with kindness and respect and use good manners?  Are they responsible and follow instructions?  And, most importantly, do they know that it is okay to mess up every once in a while?  That no one is perfect and we'll love them no matter what?

We had one of those weekends that showed me that we are, in fact, on the right track. One of those weekends when things just fell into place and everyone behaved and all felt right in the world. On Saturday, Shawn and I took all three kids to the LSU football game.  We tailgated, explored the college campus, and watched ALL FOUR quarters of the game without a single meltdown or temper tantrum.  It was a perfectly sunny fall day, purple and gold colors everywhere, and we bundled up in fleece and flannel.  I packed a picnic for us to enjoy before the game and the kids ate their weight in PB&J and brownies.  We took our time, no rushing around or high expectations.  We let them take the lead, trusting them.  As they rolled down the big hill in front of the Journalism building, I smiled and waved and tried to memorize their happy faces.  I soaked in all the giggles and shrieks of excitement as they weaved their way through the crowd and watched the pre-game parade. And that moment when we stepped into Tiger Stadium, their eyes lit up as they took in the field and the band and the sheer magic of a live football game: it was priceless.  They sat in their seats the whole time, popcorn in hand, and cheered right along with the crowd.  They didn't complain or whine or act up.  They said "excuse me" to their neighbors, thanked us for buying them snacks, and acted like sweet little ladies.  And River, well, he slept the whole time.  All wrapped up and snug in his carrier, our mighty giant boy took in his first game.  His first of many, I am sure.

They weren't born knowing how to behave like this: they've learned good behavior through discipline and hard work.  Those days when we feel defeated and exhausted and discouraged because it seems like all we did was fuss and fight with these defiant little ones: they are worth every second.  Because even when we feel like they are ignoring everything we say, they're not.  They're taking it all in, both the things that we say and the examples we set.  They are learning whether we want to give ourselves the credit we deserve or not.  And we are proud.  As we left that 3 hour long football game and put our sleepy kiddos into the car for the drive home, Shawn and I felt so proud.  They are good kids. And it was a good game.  Geaux Tigers!  And geaux Vasquezs!  

 

Just Keep Moving

When I was pregnant with River, I often joked to friends and family members that we'd see them in about a year.  "We won't be leaving the house for a while" was the feeling I had every time I thought about packing up three kids, two in diapers, one breastfeeding, all three on different schedules.  Just thinking about squeezing our new family of five into my Prius made me nervous: would our new (old) double stroller even fit into the hatch back? Would we miss the whole party before I was even able to get them all dressed and loaded into their seats?

But our little family has surprised me.  I have been much more calm and patient this time around, letting a lot of things go and practicing grace as much as possible.  Naturally, the kids followed suit, their energy a direct reflection of a mama learning to let her OCD tendencies go.  Shawn and I have teamed up now more than ever to tackle things around the house, hollering out "team work!!" when things get particularly chaotic and we feel the need to redirect everyone.  And our consistency and love of routine has created a natural rhythm for the whole family, resulting in the kids' sleeping and eating schedules all getting on the same page much quicker than we ever could have anticipated.  We are learning, day by day, how to get things done, let things go, and laugh at all of the in betweens.  It is a growing experience for all of us.

And I'm not scared or nervous anymore.  What's the worse that could happen?  They cry? Throw temper tantrums in public?  People stare at me while I nurse the baby at the zoo? Someone has an accident?  I forget to pack essential items? Well, all of that has already happened and we're still alive and well and functioning just fine.  There's no need to worry about what could happen or how hard it will be to take them all out together: I know that we can handle anything.  We may be exhausted and confused half the time but we can handle it nonetheless.  This is just normal parenting stuff, it goes with the territory.  Later, we'll tell great stories about the time we took the whole family out and we all spent the entire trip crying, whining, and miserable.  But we were there, we were together, and we were making memories.  That's all that really matters.

This new, adventurous and optimistic attitude of mine has resulted in some pretty great weekends lately.  We've learned to keep the activities short and sweet: don't expect miracles from these little people.  They get tired and overstimulated very easily and it's best not to push them too far.  Where it's in my nature to say "Just 5 more minutes" or "Let's walk a little bit further", I've learned to scale back and keep it simple.  When in doubt, offer snacks.  Expect a normally 30 minute drive to now take 2 hours.  And most of all: laugh.  When they're all in the back seat howling and wiggling and hitting and acting out, try to laugh and keep it light.  Surprisingly, they usually stop acting like little tyrants and start laughing, too.   

This past weekend included a hiking trip through a state park near our home.  We packed a picnic lunch and made it a half day trip, leaving just as it was time for afternoon naps.  We arrived just as the early morning fog was lifting and the temperature was still cool.  Shawn and I created a scavenger hunt for Belle and Brees, keeping them entertained as they were on the look out for the different animals and trees we called out to them.  And River slept through the whole trip.  River: the baby who encouraged me to just let it all go.  To be present.  To embrace the chaos.  My peaceful, soothing boy, teaching me about redemption more and more every day.

 

Weekends Are For

Weekends are for hanging out with big sisters and staying up late.  On Friday night, Isabelle and I caught up on this season of Project Runway and made chocolate chip cookies. River joined in on the party and even showed us his first real smile!  Isabelle is so good with him and it always surprises me how big she looks and how mature she seems when she is holding the baby.  My first baby, now a young lady.  

Weekends are for sleeping in, by infant standards anyway.  With no alarm clocks going off, no school buses to catch, and no schedule to keep, we were all able to sleep in until 7:30 on Saturday: baby included.  What a dream life!  We have a cosleeper for our bed that fits right between Shawn and I but, most nights, River ends up right next to Mama.  Who could resist those lips and that chin dimple?  Certainly not me!

Weekends are for cooking with my husband.  This guy: he's the best friend I could ever hope for.  Going back to work will be hard not only because I will miss the babies but because I will miss spending my days with Shawn.  We have had so much fun together these last few months and I am grateful to have a dude whose company I love so much. Our new favorite past time: waiting until the kids go to sleep to bake a batch of brownies, bring said brownies to the couch, eat and talk and watch whatever we want on TV.  Those are our date nights these days and let me tell you: we cherish them dearly. Someone recently told me: enjoy this time with your husband, even though it seems hectic and crazy and you don't get to be alone very much. Enjoy it anyway because it is special in its own way.  I agree, a million times over I agree.

Weekends are for getting dressed up in your Sunday best and going to Mass as a family. Getting a family of five dressed and out of the house and in our pew by 9:15 am on Sunday is not an easy task by any means but we do it every single week because it is important to us.  We need that spiritual check in every week, we need that time together as a family to be still and present with Christ.  Did you know that Catholic churches do not have nurseries or daycares for children?  That our children sit in the main church and participate in the entire service from the time they are infants?  One of my good friends asked me about this recently, astonished that this was even possible.  How can young children be expected to sit through an hour long church service?  WHY would you even want to do that?  The philosophy my mother always gave me of why we do this: because children are a part of the Mass just as much as adults.  Because they should be allowed to enjoy the celebration of the Eucharist just as much as we should.  Because Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these". Is it possible for them to sit still and behave?  Yes, it most certainly is.  Even though that means I sometimes spend the whole Mass shushing, rocking, giving "mom" eyes, stepping outside, taking potty breaks, etc.  That is my vocation as a mother.  And all of those lessons in discipline and patience are rewarded in moments such as the one we had yesterday when Brees sang "Alleluia!!!" so loud that the entire congregation turned to look at her and smiled and gave her the thumbs up.  I looked down at a sleeping River, Isabelle on the alter serving next to Father, and Brees reciting her Our Father and I knew that we are doing something right.  All of the normal parental guilt aside, we are doing something right.