To Lily,  on the eve of your first day of high school:

Tonight I made  muffins  for your first breakfast as a Mt. Lebanon High School student, tomorrow morning.  This, undoubtedly, will seem trivial to the outside world, but holds, for me, a much deeper significance. Nearly fifteen years ago, I sat, nursing you, at a meeting of breastfeeding women, whose presence soothed my soul, making common-place the parenting choices which your father and I made, and practiced so vehemently.  As I discovered the wonder of a supportive community of like-minded women, I was fed a snack of Brother Bonifaces' Mepkin Abbey Pumpkin bread, and I've made this recipe regularly, for you, ever since.

Its a little after 9pm.  I'm guessing that behind your closed bedroom door, there lies a girl filled with all of the expected nervous energy of somebody about to embark on something momentous. I'm thinking that sleep may evade you...all the "what ifs" racing through your mind at superhero speeds.  Funny, I had one of those nights myself, nearly fifteen years ago- when my water broke and I knew I'd be meeting you for the very first time- this life which had so miraculously developed inside of me, which I had nurtured and loved from the very moment the test read positive.  During those forty-two hours of labor, I could not imagine being the mother of a fourteen year-old, beginning her freshman year (Lord knows, the only thing I wanted, then, was a baby, oh, and an epidural.... and some sleep).  I remember meeting you for the first time and being so overwhelmed with your features- so beautiful- all that black curly hair and the precious way you sucked your thumb.  God, how I loved you- with such intention and fervor. And not a minute has passed, since then, that I haven't placed every ounce of the best of what I've got into doing right by you.  All the sleepless nights, the pacing of floors, the worrying, the tears, the loss of my career and its income potential, and the comforts that go along with it...you were and are worth it.....and I'd do them all the same way, if I had to start all over again.  There is nothing that I missed or am missing that is more validating than your very being.  You, in all of your maturity and poise and grace and dignity- with your astounding intellect and passion for details- you are already a success.  And nothing less than a million times better than what I hoped for.

 These four years will present you with many challenges, dear Lily, but none which you cannot meet head on and overcome.  You will make mistakes, but none you won't learn from and build upon.  Your heart may be stomped on and broken, but from that you will uncover your most hidden strengths.

May the morning bring relief of your fears- as you begin a new and most important journey into adulthood.  May you hold fast to your values- with a burgeoning confidence in your ability to achieve anything your heart desires. May you take to this great adventure with all of the determination which has become your trademark.

You, my red-headed wonder, are potential.  Here You Go....

Love,
Mama

P.S.  Your father, with all of his amazing eloquence, would like to add "fly, little birdie, fly..." Good grief. (We are both, now, laughing out loud).

Debbie Phelps’ ADHD Tips For Parents

Lily is home sick, for the second day in a row.  The miniature critic in me thought she was probably taking a few liberties, as she seemed quite a bit better last night, but the mindful mother in me knows that sometimes you just need to get away from the pressures of your daily existence and sit for a time- watching t.v. and eating copious amounts of toast with raspberry jam.  Especially when you have quite a cough, and your brothers are tucked away at school and you have the house and the remote control all to yourself.  I respect my children's ability to make those choices for themselves- call me crazy, but I've always believed that young people are born knowing deeply what they need- and I respect that. 

There are a plethora of things I could be doing right now, or, dare I say should be doing- getting my broken eyeglasses replaced, scrubbing a second load of pots and pans, thinking about dinner, making appointments, filling out forms for upcoming doctor visits and for summer camps....but after my four year-old left for preschool, I went to get in the car to drive to the optician and, listening to the rhythm of the rain hitting the sidewalk through my open windows, I just sat down-thinking how glorious that melody was, how nice the breeze felt on my sunburned skin- and I did nothing but soak it all in, noticing how wonderful it felt to just do nothing.  Doing nothing is so glorious.  And rare.  There were so many days, last week, where I got to sundown just wanting to cry because I was so tired- I'd been running kids to so many places ALL DAY LONG.  So, this morning, I am joining my fourteen year-old daughter in taking some time off.  Come 11:30, and that luxury will disappear, with a whole host of specialists and appointments and other motherly obligations....but,for now, my feet are up and the birds are singing and, maybe, just maybe, I'll stomp in some puddles before I stop doing nothing.

Its late.  I committed to a 10 o'clock bedtime, for myself, last week, which, so far,  I have managed to only honor once.  Change is a beast....and I haven't yet embraced it, though I know the benefits of more sleep, for this exhausted mama, are a most necessary piece of my recovery. But I long for solitude- just to hear myself think, and to contemplate my thoughts- maybe even daydream a bit....and that can't be done when one is bonding with her four children, on this, the eve of a very truncated spring break. 

Tonight I got the itch- as I held my four year-old, asleep in my arms, and inhaled his every exhale, breathing in the miracle of his life, trying to memorize these moments, which are fleeting and slipping away.  Tonight I got the itch to share with you, dear readers, about the soul-breaths I shared with my little boy, a tiny but significant piece of today's ordinary moments, which are extraordinary, if only to me. 

I wanted to share with you the beauty of my littlest boy, being wrestled to the ground by one of his pre-school classmates-so typical to most- that is, after all, what boys do, except for my boy,Seth, who had never had that privilege, until now...how extraordinary to behold my son being an ordinary boy; then  gathering a dinner, with my four children, in under thirty minutes, in a crowded super market, albeit exhausted from a long day of ordinary tub after tub of laundry, and days worth of dishes backed up in my sink, and play dates, and medical evaluations, and vacuuming, and hearing myself plead, over and over again "take off your shoes before setting foot in this living room," no less than forty times....I wanted to share with you the beauty of having a less-than-ordinary dinner of pop-tarts, toaster strudels, fried chicken, and a sub, hand-picked and gathered by those children, then packing ordinary Easter eggs with them, for an impromptu community egg hunt that we'll host in our backyard tomorrow....how extraordinary it was that not one of those kids ate a single morsel of the candy intended for those eggs...how we all hunkered down in the kitchen and watched Moneyball together and how my nine year-old son, who takes me to the brink of homicide on a daily basis, was the last one standing, soaking in all of the details of that story- so far above his maturity level...but so tapped into everything that drives him with the passion that he runs on, in all of his living.  How Lily and I held hands, for a while, and it seemed so normal that I didn't even notice I was doing it, at first.  And how I watched my eleven year-old son continue with his engineering plans, drawn with pain-staking detail, for the much researched club house, to be constructed in a tree, on our property, any summer now. 

Extraordinary stuff is happening all around us everyday, mostly going unnoticed, and unappreciated, because we are looking for the fireworks, the death-defying mission trips to third-world countries, saving starving children at all costs.  While wonderful, don't get me wrong, those aren't really the times that matter most in our lives.  The extraordinary REALLY happens when we are able to gaze upon all that is so very, very ordinary, the dailiness of our being, and know just how miraculous and amazing it all is.  To be mindful during those moments, instead of wishing for bigger, flashier, more fantastic circumstances.  God, who is so extraordinary, lies I believe, not in our achievements, but in the places that do not shine or scream "greatness,"- in all of the things you think do not matter at all.  EXTRAORDINARY  is within you.  Look for it.

***My sincere apologies to my four year-old son, Seth, for disclosing this very intimate information about your undergarments and current bathroom habits.  I solemnly swear not to read this post, outloud, to your class at show-n-tell, to your prom date, or in a toast at your wedding.**

Seth and I drove to Target, yesterday afternoon, to pick out some new underwear for him, as his current supply had grown dangerously low.  Staring, with pure joy, at the racks, he enthusiastically chose the "Phineas and Ferb" print, knowing that his two older brothers would be so impressed.  He could not wait to go home and put on one of the five pair in the package, each of which he had feverishly inspected and held, in his carseat, on the way back to our house.  As Liam and Benjamin walked through the door, after school, Seth proudly did his version of "I'm too sexy for these briefs" on the pretend catwalk, otherwise known as our basement stairs, greeting them with the face of Perry the Platypus on his wiggling bottom. 

Much to Seth's horror, however, he didn't quite make it to the potty, and abruptly soiled his new underwear, which I found hidden behind the toilet.  As I washed them, on the "sanitize" setting, last night, I laughed as I thought about how pricey ol' Perry the Platypus had become:

$9.99------------Package of Five Phineas and Ferb Size 6 Boys Briefs
$65.13----------Cost of all the other items one feels compelled to purchase, once in that very   dangerous store, like food that is much cheaper than our Giant Eagle, clearance clothing for growing sons, Easter card making decor, things for Lily's 8th grade literature project, art supplies for the rainy days.....you get the picture.
$5.00------------Approximate cost of the gas it took to get to Target, which is about 18 mins from my home
$5.00------------Probable cost of the extra hot water, electricity, Tide, and Oxy, used to properly clean the poop out of those Perry The Platypus undies, for a nearly two-hour spin in our washing machine.

Really, people, is it any wonder raising kids is so expensive, and why moms are so valuable? 

But the real deal, the reason why I do what I do, is my four year-old waking up to an evidence free pair of underwear this morning.... NOW THAT IS PRICELESS!!!