The Art of Becoming

We like to celebrate the achievement of goals.  Some in our culture might call that being pro-victory.  Regardless of your political views, being pro-victory in the Bushlack household means celebrating accomplishments.  Some major ones for the adults are Tom completing his PhD and my last day of work on August 1, 2011.  Some major ones for the kids are Audrey rolling over (to which we respond with clapping and shouting "hooray, Audrey!") and Sean beginning to show more signs of wanting to potty train.  In September I thought Sean was ready to start potty training after we hosted a string of visitors who had 3-year-olds who were potty training (thank you, Victoria and Mia, for shining a "light' in the bathroom, a 'light' on the training potty).  He showed some minimal interest then and I jumped all over it: I bought Disney's Cars stickers from Target, Sean and Tom drew a 11X14 picture of a road, and we encouraged Sean that any time he tried sitting on the

Curiosity has been anecdotal-y blamed for killing many a feline.  I might suggest, however, that much more than cats get killed when curiosity takes over.  For example, this morning, in a flurry of gathering items to get ready to leave the house (two kids, coats, hats, gloves, carseat, blanket, toys, snacks, water bottles, box to ship at UPS, laundry tag to pick up coat, items to return to our neighbor, grocery list, directions to grocery store, keys, wallet, cell phone, diaper bag, diapers, wipes, powder, etc.) I completely forgot one crucial item for my day:  deodorant.  As Sean would say, "Oh Man!"  Or as I said to myself a mile from home, thinking of the stench that could emit from my armpits later that day, "Son of a..!"  One might argue that this forgetful moment was not brought to you by curiosity but rather by distraction, and that could be correct.  But the following are examples of when curiosity really stonewalled a situation. Sleeping So as to not lea

I was at the YMCA with the kids on Monday changing Audrey's diaper on a bench in the middle of the lobby.  This bench sits just outside the studio area where a group of (mainly) middle-aged women were taking a dance class.  At that precise moment, they were dancing to Jeff Buckley's version of Hallejuia, and a woman stopped in the middle of her dancing to come out to the lobby to see me.  She very kindly walked over to our bench and said: woman: I just had to stop and tell you that there is light coming from you. me: oh! well, thank you! woman: it's just, such a lovely light, it's almost like... and here she touches my face (I'm not kidding) and has tears in her eyes woman: Mary and child.  it's clear you have so much love for these kids. me: well, what a nice thing to say, thank you! Merry Christmas, lady, seriously, that was the sweetest thing someone could have said.  However, this lady did not see me but two hours later dragging a kicking and s

I like going to Trader Joe's.  Having been a TJ's crew member for 3 years in Chicago, I find my time at Trader Joe's to be nostalgic, happy, and fun.  I like finding the products I used to love, and I like discovering the products I've never before seen.  Usually my trips to Trader Joe's end with a smile on my face and a rumble in my belly as I think about the food I get to eat at home from Trader Joe's.  My trip to Trader Joe's this week, however, threatened to end with me in tears, if it weren't for one angel who parked next to me at Trader Joe's.  She does not have a name, she does not have wings (at least not visible ones), but she is my angel.  If I ever needed proof, she is the proof I have always searched for. I wanted it to be a quick trip to Trader Joe's, because we only needed a few items.  I took Audrey into the store while she was sleeping in her carseat, and where I would normally have put her in the stroller, I foolishly thought t

If anyone ever idealized the relationship between mother and child, it was me. I always envisioned that my existence as a mother would be full of warmth and light. Many days it is! However, there are those few exceptions that happen more frequently than I would expect. These situations currently revolve around Sean because he can walk and talk, and I'm sure once Audrey is able to think for herself, she'll present her own moments where I want to pull my hair out. For now, I give you, these shining examples of my exemplary mothering skills. Dreams of Autonomy #1 Sean wakes up in the middle of the night screaming. I stumble into his room, hoping he doesn't wake up Audrey, and also wanting Tom to get some sleep before he has to teach in the morning. When I approach him to wrap him up in my arms and tell him it's okay, it must have been a bad dream, that he is safe and can go back to sleep, he shouts in my face, "No, Mama, I want to close the garage door myself!&q

It seems there are things that only the mind of a two-year-old can know. For example, why does he refuse to let me get the peanut butter out of the jar to make his PBJ sandwich, and why must he take the cap off the milk, and why must he hold the applesauce container and scoop the applesauce out himself? While we're on the subject of applesauce, here's a recent exchange between me and Seancito: me: Seancito, your lunch is ready. (lunch involves mac and cheese and applesauce, in a separated plate, so that they are not touching each other.) Sean: No, I don't want the applesauce! me: okay, if you don't want it, you can leave it on your plate. Sean: No! Mama, take the applesauce away! Take it! Take it away!! me: Sean, if you don't want - Sean: NOOO (pounding his fists), mama take it! (flailing his body) me: I'm not gonna take it - Sean: NOOO (sliding down between his seat and the table) I DON'T WANT THE APPLESAUCE!! At this point Sean is laying underneath the

The man who lives behind us has a beautiful lawn. Nothing too fancy, but the grass is green, there doesn't seem to be any weeds, and he waters it daily with a sprinkler system. It's clear he cares about yard cleanliness. Come to find out, he more than cares . One day he approached our other neighbor with a plan to stop the moles. Sidetrack here: moles are digging up all sorts of tracks in our neighborhood. My father-in-law tells me that moles can dig many miles in one night. Many, many miles. This angers our neighbor. Let's call him George. This angers George. So George approaches my next door neighbor, Beckie, with a pair of gloves and pack of gum. He tells Beckie that he's done all sorts of research on moles, and that he's learned how to get rid of them. First you must buy a pack of Wrigley's original gum. Not spearmint. Not winterfresh, but ORIGINAL. Then, using the gloves, you unwrap a piece of gum, wad it up into a ball, and - stil

Sean and I have butted heads recently. Specifically around the potty. Yesterday he pushed me to the brink of my sanity having slapped my leg twice. Once was in response to multiple pleas for him to clean up his blocks. The next was in response to getting ready to go pick up Tom from work. The second hit, much later in the day, my patient-reserves were low, was while I was sitting on the toilet. It's true. I was sitting on the toilet, he was discussing something with me and getting disgruntled about it. He did not like the responses I was giving him, so he slapped my leg. me: When I get off this toilet, you are going to sit in time out. Sean ran out of the room with a smirk on his face. Any sentence that begins with "When I get off this toilet..." is not really an intimidating sentence. How can his 2 year old mind know that when I am sitting on the toilet, I am not a force to be reckoned with. In fact, I am at my most vulnerable! Today, we were discu

Our move to Minnesota began a couple weeks ago when I finished my last day of work. We frantically packed the house for three days, moved on a Friday, came to Golden Valley on Saturday, and have been Minnesotans ever since. But the details of the actual move can be followed by some major/minor medical incidents. Wednesday, August 3 - 2:58 AM I wake up with searing pain on my left side. I am convinced this is an ulcer that has burst due to the amount of coffee I have been drinking. Between sleeplessness with a newborn, keeping up with Seancito, and going back to work for July, I was enjoying coffee every morning. Then, my office mate, Beth, was kind enough to surprise me with lattes a couple times at work. As delicious as all of this was, I knew that I had given myself an ulcer. A coffee-induced ulcer. Brilliant. I am terribly nauseous along with this pain, and I can't even lay back down in bed, so I prop myself up in the recliner and try to go back to sleep. I waver b

This is the first day of my life. I officially completed my last day of work and started a life as a full time mother. I could not be happier. This evening, my co-workers threw me a going away party and the volunteer ushers asked me over and over again what I would be doing when we moved. I felt so vindicated in saying, "I'm going to stay home with our kids." I received a variety of reactions; everything from, "oh that's wonderful" to some blank stares to looks of bewilderment that I didn't have another job lined up for myself. It's this process of becoming. I'm sure it doesn't make sense to some people that I wouldn't have something else on the horizon. Thank goodness for the space to figure out what might be next. Someone said to me last week, "we know where we are born, but we do not know where we will die." What's more fitting to where I am right now is "we know where we are, but we have no idea where we a

I've thought for a long time about starting a blog. One that would accurately reflect the beginning of our new life in Minnesota. This is a place for me. This is a place to reflect, to honor and to celebrate a new beginning. Some of the volunteer ushers I've worked with have commented that this is the best time of my life - having young kids and my husband starting a new job. I have tried to take this to heart; is it just nostalgia talking when they give me this advice? There is a kernel of truth as I see it; each day is new. Our little kids are growing every day, learning something new, constantly changing and taking in the world around them. Because I am leaving a job of four years that hasn't felt fulfilling, and because Tom is starting a job that he will hopefully find fulfilling, we are starting with a clean slate. As a family of four we are constantly in the process of becoming who we will be and who we are. The art of becoming. To memorialize my first post -