At about 4:00 this morning Isak came into our bedroom cyring. He'd had a nightmare. Typically when he has a bad dream he will come tell us, and maybe cry a little bit, but is easily calmed and will go back to bed.
This nightmare was different. He was near hysterics - crying, shaking and absolutely refusing to go back to his bed. I let him climb into bed with us and tried to comfort him. He calmed down a bit and after several minutes said, "Mom, do you know what a whiner is?"
"Yes"
"What is it?"
"A person who whines a lot." And, being confused about the randomness of this conversation asked, "Why?"
"Because there was a whiner in my nightmare. It was coming after me!" And then he burst into tears again.
So there you go. Whiners are SCARY!
Friday, November 19, 2010
Friday, November 12, 2010
I want my baby back, baby back, baby back
As Isak grew out of his clothes as a baby, we would box them up and take them out to Jeremy's parents' house to be stored and saved for Jer's brother, Jason and his wife, Megan. Jason and Megan have had two girls, and thus have not yet needed boy clothes. Recently Jer's parents have started redecorating their home and needed to empty out closets. They asked us if we would take the tubs of stored baby clothes off their hands. And so it is that I am hauling around about six tubs of baby boy clothes in the back of my van.
Today I decided to go through the clothes and see what is there and try to determine what to do with them. There's nothing like going through your kids' baby clothes to fill your heart with the joy of sweet memories and a longing for time to slow down just a little bit.
Isak turned six yesterday. I am simply amazed. I even asked him yesterday, "Isak, how can you be six when you've only been alive for like two years?!" He thinks I'm crazy. I think that time goes by too fast.
Thankfully he still snuggles with me (by the way, if you've read earlier posts about Isak, he loves me again) and doesn't complain too much when I smother him with kisses and call him "doodle bug". I can't imagine my life without this boy who is one of the greatest miracles of my life and who makes me laugh everyday.
Today I decided to go through the clothes and see what is there and try to determine what to do with them. There's nothing like going through your kids' baby clothes to fill your heart with the joy of sweet memories and a longing for time to slow down just a little bit.
Isak turned six yesterday. I am simply amazed. I even asked him yesterday, "Isak, how can you be six when you've only been alive for like two years?!" He thinks I'm crazy. I think that time goes by too fast.
Thankfully he still snuggles with me (by the way, if you've read earlier posts about Isak, he loves me again) and doesn't complain too much when I smother him with kisses and call him "doodle bug". I can't imagine my life without this boy who is one of the greatest miracles of my life and who makes me laugh everyday.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
In My Daughter's Eyes
Last week I went to Becca's classroom to be a "mystery reader". I showed up while the class was at lunch, and before they returned to the classroom, covered myself with a large sheet. The children were allowed to ask me "yes" or "no" questions to which I could respond by nodding my head. Once they figured out who I was, I took off the sheet and was prepared to read a couple of books to them.
However, before I started reading, the teacher asked me to tell the class about myself. "Hmmmm...what would twenty-two 7 & 8 year-olds be interested in knowing about me?" I wondered. I simply stated, "My name is Tricia Matis. I am Rebecca's mom. I also have a son named Isak who is 5. (thoughtful pause ) Ummm...do you have any questions for me?"
For a brief moment I thought, "Wow. This is depressing. I can't think of anything interesting to say about my life!" Then, a hand went up. "Yes," I aksed.
"What do you do?"
"Well, I'm a mom."
Another hand went up. "Um...I think she meant, what kind of work do you do?"
"Well, I work at home, as a mom," To which sweet Becca added, "She does a lot of work at home."
Then, Becca leaned over to me and said, "Tell them about the food you make."
"What?" I whispered back, confused.
"You know, the food that you make to take to people who need help."
"Oh."
And then I realized. I am more than the woman who cleans the house and does the laundry. I am more than the person who keeps everyone on schedule and makes sure that homework gets done. I am more than the chauffer who ensures that everyone is where they need to be.
I am a heroine. I comfort. I serve. I love. I take meals to people!
At least, I realized in that moment, that's what my daughter sees in me.
So, I turned to the class, with Becca smiling proudly at my side, and explained, "You see, because I am able to be a stay-at-home mom, and don't have to work outside the home, I have time to do things like prepare meals for people who are sick, have just had a baby or have lost a loved one."
I knew in that moment that I am being exactly the kind of mom I want to be. No, I'm not perfect, but in spite of my imperfections, my daughter is learning how heroic it is to be a mom who not only serves her family, but blesses the lives of those around her. I'm grateful for what she sees in me, for it inspires me to better - to measure up to what she sees in me.
However, before I started reading, the teacher asked me to tell the class about myself. "Hmmmm...what would twenty-two 7 & 8 year-olds be interested in knowing about me?" I wondered. I simply stated, "My name is Tricia Matis. I am Rebecca's mom. I also have a son named Isak who is 5. (thoughtful pause ) Ummm...do you have any questions for me?"
For a brief moment I thought, "Wow. This is depressing. I can't think of anything interesting to say about my life!" Then, a hand went up. "Yes," I aksed.
"What do you do?"
"Well, I'm a mom."
Another hand went up. "Um...I think she meant, what kind of work do you do?"
"Well, I work at home, as a mom," To which sweet Becca added, "She does a lot of work at home."
Then, Becca leaned over to me and said, "Tell them about the food you make."
"What?" I whispered back, confused.
"You know, the food that you make to take to people who need help."
"Oh."
And then I realized. I am more than the woman who cleans the house and does the laundry. I am more than the person who keeps everyone on schedule and makes sure that homework gets done. I am more than the chauffer who ensures that everyone is where they need to be.
I am a heroine. I comfort. I serve. I love. I take meals to people!
At least, I realized in that moment, that's what my daughter sees in me.
So, I turned to the class, with Becca smiling proudly at my side, and explained, "You see, because I am able to be a stay-at-home mom, and don't have to work outside the home, I have time to do things like prepare meals for people who are sick, have just had a baby or have lost a loved one."
I knew in that moment that I am being exactly the kind of mom I want to be. No, I'm not perfect, but in spite of my imperfections, my daughter is learning how heroic it is to be a mom who not only serves her family, but blesses the lives of those around her. I'm grateful for what she sees in me, for it inspires me to better - to measure up to what she sees in me.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
A New Favorite
I am a huge fan of the movie Anne of Green Gables. In my post-mission, pre-marriage days, I had roomates who introduced me to the Anne movies. Whenever one of us was sick, or just having a really horrible day, we would have an Anne marathon.
There is some controversy over when this specifically happened, but around the time that Jeremy and I got married we found the Anne books in a little bookstore for not much money. I had never read the books and decided that I would like to. Jeremy bought them for me.
That was 11 1/2 years ago.
I don't know why I never actually read them. I started the first one and only got a couple of chapters in before I stopped. Every once in a while Jeremy would harrass me about not reading the books.
For Mothers' Day this year Jeremy got me the set of dvd's . It had been on my wishlist FOREVER and I was super excited. What is even more exciting is that I now have a daughter old enough to appreciate them with me. So the day after Becca broke her collar bone this past summer, when she was in a lot of pain and couldn't really do more than just sit, I asked her if she wanted to watch the first one. She LOVED it! Within 24 hours we had watched all 3 movies! I was in heaven.
That sparked my interest once again in reading the books.
Well, with the craziness of summer (kids at home, YW camp, pioneer trek...) I didn't get to read much, but finally, last night, I finished reading Anne of Green Gables.
The point of this post isn't to tell you a long, boring story about reading a book that I bought almost 12 years ago. The point is to share with you my new favorite quote. It inspired me to a feeling of gratitude for my life, that isn't exactly what I dreamed of, but suits me perfectly.
"...but if the path set before her feet was to be narrow she knew that flowers of quiet happiness would bloom along it. The joys of sincere work and worthy aspiration and congenial friendship were to be hers; nothing could rob her of her birthright of fancy or her ideal world of dreams. And there was always the bend in the road!"
"'God's in his heaven, all's right with the world,'" whispered Anne softly.
Like Anne, I am a dreamer. And though the dreams that I hold dear don't always come true in the way that I dream them, "flowers of quiet happiness" bloom along my path, "the joys of sincere work, and worthy aspiration and congenial friendship" are mine, and there always is a "bend in the road!"
Indeed, "God's in his heaven, all's right with the world."
There is some controversy over when this specifically happened, but around the time that Jeremy and I got married we found the Anne books in a little bookstore for not much money. I had never read the books and decided that I would like to. Jeremy bought them for me.
That was 11 1/2 years ago.
I don't know why I never actually read them. I started the first one and only got a couple of chapters in before I stopped. Every once in a while Jeremy would harrass me about not reading the books.
For Mothers' Day this year Jeremy got me the set of dvd's . It had been on my wishlist FOREVER and I was super excited. What is even more exciting is that I now have a daughter old enough to appreciate them with me. So the day after Becca broke her collar bone this past summer, when she was in a lot of pain and couldn't really do more than just sit, I asked her if she wanted to watch the first one. She LOVED it! Within 24 hours we had watched all 3 movies! I was in heaven.
That sparked my interest once again in reading the books.
Well, with the craziness of summer (kids at home, YW camp, pioneer trek...) I didn't get to read much, but finally, last night, I finished reading Anne of Green Gables.
The point of this post isn't to tell you a long, boring story about reading a book that I bought almost 12 years ago. The point is to share with you my new favorite quote. It inspired me to a feeling of gratitude for my life, that isn't exactly what I dreamed of, but suits me perfectly.
"...but if the path set before her feet was to be narrow she knew that flowers of quiet happiness would bloom along it. The joys of sincere work and worthy aspiration and congenial friendship were to be hers; nothing could rob her of her birthright of fancy or her ideal world of dreams. And there was always the bend in the road!"
"'God's in his heaven, all's right with the world,'" whispered Anne softly.
Like Anne, I am a dreamer. And though the dreams that I hold dear don't always come true in the way that I dream them, "flowers of quiet happiness" bloom along my path, "the joys of sincere work, and worthy aspiration and congenial friendship" are mine, and there always is a "bend in the road!"
Indeed, "God's in his heaven, all's right with the world."
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Water Works
Those who know me really well know that I am very emotional. I cry at the drop of hat, often for reasons that I can't really explain. Often it seems that the situation doesn't warrant my extreme reaction. For example...
Recently I went to see Wicked with my mom and sister. This was my third time seeing Wicked on the stage and probably my bazillionth time hearing the song Defying Gravity. I cry almost every time, if not every time, that I hear that song. I can't control it. I'm listening to the song, singing along and BOOM - my throat starts constricting, my voice cracks and on go the water works.
So, I was sitting in the theatre in Louisville, watching the most outstanding performance of Defying Gravity that I have seen, and the process began - throat constricting, tears flowing. And this time it wasn't pretty. I knew that if I let it out it could very well be a distraction to the people sitting around me, so I tried to control the emotion I was feeling. Suddenly my body could no longer contain the emotion it was feeling and my whole body shuddered and some strange noise emitted from my throat that probably sounded something like a grunt. How embarrassing!!!
As the first act ended and the lights came on, I was grateful to see that Jill had also been crying (I can usually count on her to "get" why something affects me that way that it does). Even so, I felt a little goofy knowing that a song that I've heard so many times nearly made me come completely unglued!
Such unexplained drainages of my tear ducts happen on a regualar basis. Last night I was at the dance studio where my daughter takes ballet. I dropped her off and made my way down the hallway to the waiting room. As I walked by one of the classrooms I noticed a class that was in session. It was a class of preschool aged girls preparing for their upcoming recital. Kneeling next to each little girl, holding a hand up to support her as she twirled, was who I could only assume was her dad. It was by far one of the sweetest things I have ever seen. On went the water works.
A little later, I was invited along with all of the other parents, to go into Becca's class to watch them perform their recital piece. It is a ballet class, and they are doing a sweet little dance to Goodnight My Angel by Billy Joel. Well, at least I know my tear glands are working poperly! Maybe I'd better take a box of Kleenex to the recital and sit in the back by myself!
Recently I went to see Wicked with my mom and sister. This was my third time seeing Wicked on the stage and probably my bazillionth time hearing the song Defying Gravity. I cry almost every time, if not every time, that I hear that song. I can't control it. I'm listening to the song, singing along and BOOM - my throat starts constricting, my voice cracks and on go the water works.
So, I was sitting in the theatre in Louisville, watching the most outstanding performance of Defying Gravity that I have seen, and the process began - throat constricting, tears flowing. And this time it wasn't pretty. I knew that if I let it out it could very well be a distraction to the people sitting around me, so I tried to control the emotion I was feeling. Suddenly my body could no longer contain the emotion it was feeling and my whole body shuddered and some strange noise emitted from my throat that probably sounded something like a grunt. How embarrassing!!!
As the first act ended and the lights came on, I was grateful to see that Jill had also been crying (I can usually count on her to "get" why something affects me that way that it does). Even so, I felt a little goofy knowing that a song that I've heard so many times nearly made me come completely unglued!
Such unexplained drainages of my tear ducts happen on a regualar basis. Last night I was at the dance studio where my daughter takes ballet. I dropped her off and made my way down the hallway to the waiting room. As I walked by one of the classrooms I noticed a class that was in session. It was a class of preschool aged girls preparing for their upcoming recital. Kneeling next to each little girl, holding a hand up to support her as she twirled, was who I could only assume was her dad. It was by far one of the sweetest things I have ever seen. On went the water works.
A little later, I was invited along with all of the other parents, to go into Becca's class to watch them perform their recital piece. It is a ballet class, and they are doing a sweet little dance to Goodnight My Angel by Billy Joel. Well, at least I know my tear glands are working poperly! Maybe I'd better take a box of Kleenex to the recital and sit in the back by myself!
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Another Funny Isak Conversation
I don't know, maybe you have to know Isak to find this funny, but I laughed...a lot. One thing that you have to know is that Isak proclaims, on pretty much a daily basis, that he does not love me.
Last night, at bedtime, Isak came into the living room and asked me, "Will you get me a sippy cup of water to take to bed with me?"
Thinking that I had found an opportunity to trick him into saying that he loves me, I said, "Maybe. Do you love me?"
He thought for a moment, "Ummmmmmmmm......yes."
But then, as I was internally congratulating myself for having extracted his confession of love for me, he said, "Well, not really."
"Oh" I said, "I may not get you a drink then."
And then he spoke the truth that I have so carefully tried to teach my children. "Yes you will, because YOU love me."
In my mind I thought, "Yes. You are right, little dude. Even if you won't tell me that you love me, I will always try to let you know in every way I can that I love you unconditionally - I'm so glad that you are confident in my love for you."
But, so as not to bore him with my long-winded response (remember the "blah blah blah" conversation?) I simply said, "That's true. I DO love you."
To which he replied, "Well, you freak ME out!"
"Well" I said, laughing, "you freak ME out!"
Then came his retort, which caused us both to laugh uncontrollably, "Well, you freak DAD out!"
Oh, so many truths spoken in one short conversation from the mouth of my 5 year-old.
Last night, at bedtime, Isak came into the living room and asked me, "Will you get me a sippy cup of water to take to bed with me?"
Thinking that I had found an opportunity to trick him into saying that he loves me, I said, "Maybe. Do you love me?"
He thought for a moment, "Ummmmmmmmm......yes."
But then, as I was internally congratulating myself for having extracted his confession of love for me, he said, "Well, not really."
"Oh" I said, "I may not get you a drink then."
And then he spoke the truth that I have so carefully tried to teach my children. "Yes you will, because YOU love me."
In my mind I thought, "Yes. You are right, little dude. Even if you won't tell me that you love me, I will always try to let you know in every way I can that I love you unconditionally - I'm so glad that you are confident in my love for you."
But, so as not to bore him with my long-winded response (remember the "blah blah blah" conversation?) I simply said, "That's true. I DO love you."
To which he replied, "Well, you freak ME out!"
"Well" I said, laughing, "you freak ME out!"
Then came his retort, which caused us both to laugh uncontrollably, "Well, you freak DAD out!"
Oh, so many truths spoken in one short conversation from the mouth of my 5 year-old.
Monday, May 17, 2010
I think I'm broken
I know this will come off as seeming very whiney, pathetic and attention seeking. I promise that is not my intention. I'm just feeling a little thoughtful today and have come to the conclusion that I may be broken.
I'm pretty happy, and it's no wonder! I have a wonderful husband who is fun, understanding and supportive. He loves to make me happy, and he does. My kids are healthy, fun-loving and obedient (for the most part). I have extended family members who are a big part of my life. I have a comfortable enough home and lifestyle. I am confident in who I am and in my beliefs and I find a great deal of joy in being a member of my church and all of the opportunites to serve that come with that. Life is busy, fulfilling, and good.
Sometimes, though, I overhear conversations or read things in blogs about things that people do together - friends who spend time together on a regular basis. It makes me blaringly aware that I don't really have many friends. Oh, don't get me wrong. According to Facebook I have almost 400 friends. And there are so many people that I love and who I know love me. I actually feel quite blessed to know so many wonderful people - but what I think I'm missing is that comfortable kind of relationship that comes from knowing things about each other and spending time together.
I've had friends like this in the past. In high school, in college, and as a young single adult I always had at least a small group of friends that I enjoyed doing things with made up of individuals that I spoke to on nearly a daily basis. Many of those people are still a part of my life in a long distance sort of way.
Since I've been married these types of friendships have become fewer and farther between. In the past 11 years I can only think of 2 friends who really fit into this category (and they live too far away now to see on a regualar basis) and maybe 2 or 3 more who kind of come close. I tend to go through my life thinking this is pretty normal. I'm busy keeping up with my family, home and church responsibilities and I figure everyone else is too. But then I hear or read about friends who exercise, go out to lunch, go to the zoo, go to the childrens' museum, take trips together, etc. and I can't help but wonder what I am missing.
Perhaps my perception of myself is way off base. I think of myself as a kind, interested, thoughtful and fun person. I like people. I try to be the kind of person that people will like (you know, I don't put people down or walk around with a frown on my face). I don't think I make it hard to get to know me - I'm pretty much an open book.
Whenever I talk to Jeremy about this he tells me that I should start inviting people to do stuff with me. Let me tell you. I've done it! So many times I've invited someone to do something with me and had a terrific time never to hear from them again. Or we talk about getting together again, but it never works out (and not just because of me) and all the while I'm hearing of things that they are doing with other people.
I'm not necessarily asking for advice here. I know that if I had some fatal flaw that noone would want to be so unkind as to tell me - but honestly, even if it hurt a little, I would probably welcome the answer to my quandry. And if it's something as simple as needing to put on a little more deodorant or eating a mint, by all means, let me know!
The only logical conclusion that I can come to is that I am broken. Maybe we all have some kind of friendship output that lets other people know that we would like to be their friend, or some kind of receptor that lets us know when someone wants to be our friend - and mine are out of order. I don't know. But until I figure it out, I will continue on in joy and gratitude for the meaningful relationships that I do have and hope that someday I can figure out how to fix my friendship malfunction.
I'm pretty happy, and it's no wonder! I have a wonderful husband who is fun, understanding and supportive. He loves to make me happy, and he does. My kids are healthy, fun-loving and obedient (for the most part). I have extended family members who are a big part of my life. I have a comfortable enough home and lifestyle. I am confident in who I am and in my beliefs and I find a great deal of joy in being a member of my church and all of the opportunites to serve that come with that. Life is busy, fulfilling, and good.
Sometimes, though, I overhear conversations or read things in blogs about things that people do together - friends who spend time together on a regular basis. It makes me blaringly aware that I don't really have many friends. Oh, don't get me wrong. According to Facebook I have almost 400 friends. And there are so many people that I love and who I know love me. I actually feel quite blessed to know so many wonderful people - but what I think I'm missing is that comfortable kind of relationship that comes from knowing things about each other and spending time together.
I've had friends like this in the past. In high school, in college, and as a young single adult I always had at least a small group of friends that I enjoyed doing things with made up of individuals that I spoke to on nearly a daily basis. Many of those people are still a part of my life in a long distance sort of way.
Since I've been married these types of friendships have become fewer and farther between. In the past 11 years I can only think of 2 friends who really fit into this category (and they live too far away now to see on a regualar basis) and maybe 2 or 3 more who kind of come close. I tend to go through my life thinking this is pretty normal. I'm busy keeping up with my family, home and church responsibilities and I figure everyone else is too. But then I hear or read about friends who exercise, go out to lunch, go to the zoo, go to the childrens' museum, take trips together, etc. and I can't help but wonder what I am missing.
Perhaps my perception of myself is way off base. I think of myself as a kind, interested, thoughtful and fun person. I like people. I try to be the kind of person that people will like (you know, I don't put people down or walk around with a frown on my face). I don't think I make it hard to get to know me - I'm pretty much an open book.
Whenever I talk to Jeremy about this he tells me that I should start inviting people to do stuff with me. Let me tell you. I've done it! So many times I've invited someone to do something with me and had a terrific time never to hear from them again. Or we talk about getting together again, but it never works out (and not just because of me) and all the while I'm hearing of things that they are doing with other people.
I'm not necessarily asking for advice here. I know that if I had some fatal flaw that noone would want to be so unkind as to tell me - but honestly, even if it hurt a little, I would probably welcome the answer to my quandry. And if it's something as simple as needing to put on a little more deodorant or eating a mint, by all means, let me know!
The only logical conclusion that I can come to is that I am broken. Maybe we all have some kind of friendship output that lets other people know that we would like to be their friend, or some kind of receptor that lets us know when someone wants to be our friend - and mine are out of order. I don't know. But until I figure it out, I will continue on in joy and gratitude for the meaningful relationships that I do have and hope that someday I can figure out how to fix my friendship malfunction.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Blah, blah, blah
Isak has done some extremely cute things lately. He doesn't always intend to be funny, and when he does intend to be funny it always seems to come when I am least expecting it. For example...
Isak thinks that the percentages on food packaging are very important. He believes that if something says 100% that it is good for you. It could say "100% carcinogenic" and he would say, "Hey mom! We should get this. It's 100%!"
Today we were shopping at Wal Mart and he picked up a movie-size box of Whoppers and asked if he could have them. I told them that he could carry them and, if he made good choices while we were at the store, I would buy them. As he carried them, he inspected the packaging and was surprised to find that it said, "25%". He said, "Mom, this says it's 25%, which means that it's a little healthy, right? But it's chocolate, and chocolate isn't healthy."
I looked at the box and saw that it read, "25% less fat", so I explained to him that in this case the percentage didn't indicate that the food was healthy, just that it was less unhealthy than other kinds of candy. When I was done with my explanation, I said, "Does that make sense?" Isak looked at me with a straight face and said, "No, not really. You were talking but all I heard was 'blah, blah, blah'".
I, of course, laughed.
Isak thinks that the percentages on food packaging are very important. He believes that if something says 100% that it is good for you. It could say "100% carcinogenic" and he would say, "Hey mom! We should get this. It's 100%!"
Today we were shopping at Wal Mart and he picked up a movie-size box of Whoppers and asked if he could have them. I told them that he could carry them and, if he made good choices while we were at the store, I would buy them. As he carried them, he inspected the packaging and was surprised to find that it said, "25%". He said, "Mom, this says it's 25%, which means that it's a little healthy, right? But it's chocolate, and chocolate isn't healthy."
I looked at the box and saw that it read, "25% less fat", so I explained to him that in this case the percentage didn't indicate that the food was healthy, just that it was less unhealthy than other kinds of candy. When I was done with my explanation, I said, "Does that make sense?" Isak looked at me with a straight face and said, "No, not really. You were talking but all I heard was 'blah, blah, blah'".
I, of course, laughed.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Life In Fast Forward
Life seems to go by at the speed of sound.
Jeremy's 34th birthday ~ 9/12/09
I can't seem to find any photos and I can't remember what we did! I hope I did something special for him!
Carving pumpkins ~ October 09
Pumpkin patch/Joe's 50th birthday celebration
YMCA football
Isak's 5th birthday ~ 11/11/09
Christmas ~ 2009
Becca's 7th birthday ~ 1/21/10
My 38th birthday ~ 2/20/10
I don't have any pictures from my 38th birthday, but Jeremy made it special by organizing a night out with friends, a night out with my family, and Sunday dinner with his family!
Throw in a lot of time spent at school and many hours spent planning for youth activities, and that's life ~ at the speed of sound!
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