The Resolution

A Year Later - 2 Days Before The Big Day!

We all do it.  Whether in our heads or in a pact with friends...or publicly on Facebook.  We commit to something at the start of a new year.  Lose weight.  Take a trip.  Restore friendships.  We are encouraged by the concept of starting fresh.  At the clean slate of a new beginning and chance to get back on the wagon. 

This is where I am.  I am two days away from having one year old twins.  I am literally writing this in shock.  Shock that the time has passed so quickly.  Shock that we've not only survived but can honestly say we have thrived in many ways.  Shock that I am virtually back to my pre-twin-preggo size (notice I said virtually).  Shock that despite the dark moments in the past year, I absolutely, unequivocally love my life and at the same time...don't...some days. 

October 26 is a New Year. 

I'm going into this birthday celebration with bittersweet joy.  One year is gone.  We'll never get it back and I fear I have not been the best "Carrie" I should have.  But what's done is done.  I've made my resolutions and I've committed.

I knew having three boys was going to be an adventure.  Oh. BOY.  To commemorate our 12 month milestone I scheduled a fall outdoor portrait session with the lovely and talented Gretchen Miekley Photography.  Ben and I tried for weeks to prevent bruises and scrapes on the baby smooth skin in our household, knowing that family pictures were imminent.  We made it.  The morning of pictures and we were on schedule with early naps, ironing clothes and had just enough time to make it out the door on time with sparkling clean and flawless faces. One hour to go.  And I was initiated into the 'mom of boys' club.  Toby bumped his head on the fireplace and I spent 10 minutes I didn't have calming him down, putting ice on his goose-egg and mourning the loss of my picture perfect family. 

This will be my life.  Bruises and broken bones.  Racing out the door, running late.  Laughing at farts and jumping off everything in sight.  Arguing with the boys about keeping their hands out of their pants, clipping their nails, cleaning out their ears and wiping the toilet seat down.  Ew. Gross.  Again, my life. 

I have to admit that at times I do not handle this well.  Let's just be honest...MOST of the time I do not handle this very well.  We've covered this.  I'm a control freak.  And fiercely independent.  And obsessed with having a plan. And unfairly demanding of those I love the most.  And intolerable of being late.  Ugh.  My least favorable qualities are not exactly a perfect match for combating the rambunctious, spontaneous nature of my beloved boys.

And so sometimes (more often than I'd like) I react instead of respond.  In a way I look back on and cringe.  I get frustrated and loud.  I yell.  I freak out.  I stomp and throw a tantrum with my kids and husband like I'm two.  And then I wonder why my eldest mimics it back to me when he himself faces something that upsets his world?  It's really not okay.

Thus the resolution.  Out of all the things I could do or have, the single most important thing to me this New Year is to be a better person.  To me, this is so much more than being a better mom or wife or woman.  What I want to be is simply a better ME. 

All my work and effort to prepare for daily life and managing a household of crazy boys will probably not ever by recognized or appreciated (and that's really okay!).  The reality is that I get so caught up in the craziness of details that I miss the moments with my family that can just be fun.  This seems like an impossible lesson for me to learn but I am determined to try. 

I want my kids to remember the times I chased them around the house on all fours as they shrieked with laughter.  I want them to remember the times I STOPPED yelling and knelt down to their level, took their faces in my hands gently and told them I loved them.  I want them to remember our early morning trips grocery shopping and special treat dates at Orange Leaf or Star Cakes.  I want them to remember my smiles.  And not my disapproving glances. 

I want my husband to remember the days when I came home and kissed him first.  Instead of surveying the day's damage or launching into a list of what needs to be done that evening.  I want him to remember the times when I didn't jump out of bed at 5am to work out and instead stayed asleep just to be close to him...with just our toes touching...enjoying a few more minutes of togetherness even in slumber...in the midst of a week when we barely see each other in passing.  I want him to remember my support and encouragement.  And not my critique.

I want all my boys to see me handle situations with poise and temperance.  I want them to hear me speak truth and peace and love into their lives.  I want them to join me in learning valuable lessons of punctuality and respect.  :)  I want them to feel my thoughts and prayers supporting them through their most difficult days.  I want them to know.  Really know.  Know that I am truly happy to be the mom and wife and woman responsible for sharing life with these precious gifts - my four boys.

Sure, I still want to be the ME who gets us all out the door on time...but not at the expense of my joy-filled, amazingly-blessed life as a family. 

I want to be better.