Dear Mom, Mundane is Optional

Remember those nights when you heard your mom laughing after you went to bed? Remember her humming as she did the dishes? Can you remember her singing the oldies in the car? Can you remember the sound of her church shoes? Can you remember her in the visor or scarf as you picked weeds together? Can you remember the look on her face as she read beautiful words? We're like her now. We have emotions wrapped tightly inside, unfolding as we journey together, learning more about each other as we go. 

 My oldest is eleven.  He's a man boy now.  It's new territory just like every age he's ever been.  I'm fully in love, fully committed, and fully terrified to go forward.  I'm a passionate, expressive queen in my castle, and my boy adores me.  That's right, in Jesus' name he adores me.  He actually does, it's hard for me to believe sometimes - like every other breath. At the beginning of fifth grade, he came home from school and asked me if I could teach him a rap.  Like a rap song.  He wanted to learn one together -I do one part, he does another.  I died.  It was like the first time I ever bumped into a boy and didn't move away.  I was frozen in the driver's seat bursting with excitement, hoping this was really truly real.  So we learned a rap.  He showed it off to all the neighbors..."look what me and my mom can do."  He likes me, oh my...yes, its real.  

I took him to a rap concert this year. He was so excited. I, of course, was squeezing my butt all day and inhaling know, passionate and expressive.  I forgot that he likes me, and slipped into he's embarassed of me.  The room went dark, lights were crazy. The whole environment was trying to get crazy, but the crowd around us was pretty stiff.  I was trying not to dance so I didn't embarass him, but when I looked down my feet were passionatly expressing themselves. So I decided to join them.  The more I danced, the more he danced.  It wasn't akward anymore. We danced and giggled, did all the moves we've perfected cooking meals together.  No one else around us was really busting it out like we were, but I didn't care.  He didn't notice. We were just doing our thing.  Some girls around us were laughing at us and pointing.  Then I think they were taking pictures of us.  It made me so mad.  I didn't want him to know.  I didn't want him to fall to the pressure of those around us- those uncomfortable at a rap concert.  He didn't notice.  He noticed me and the lights, the music, the feeling inside of him that says, "DANCE!" He found the place that we've made together that says,  "Show up, be yourself. I like you." 

I went to bed that night changed.  He likes me.  Things are changing.  I was so mad at those girls.  I want to keep the pressure away from my kids.  But I can't.  Neither can you. He didn't see the pressure at the concert.  At least he didn't see it to the same degree that I saw it.  I saw him take up space, be himself, enjoy HIMSELF. I also can see him changing, maybe loosing this place for awhile. But we've blazed a trail here.  It's here for him to come back to and figure out how to stay forever. 

As a gift to my kids I want to enjoy MYSELF.  I want to be the best me that I can be so that my kids know how to be the best them they can be.  I want to enjoy how God made me, to have fun, be quirky, to give them me - and not an exhausted, sour washrag version of me- a freshly laundered by someone else's laundry soap kind of me.  You know how your friend borrowed your kid's shirt and returns it.  How did she wash it and make it smell so good.  I mean, it looks new.  How does she fold so crisp? Sheesh woman.  Thank you.  And stop it right there.  

I was chatting with a freind who works in education.  She told me her favorite part of her job was analyzing data. She can study, find a trend or a hole and find a soultion based on the data.  She's happy she gets to work with data everyday.  I was so energized by her love for data.  It made me think...what do I love everyday about my job?  What things do I have in place that may make me smell like the laundry from my friend's house to my family?  I'll tell you what, I love passionate, expressive music.  I love dancing.  I love to draw and color. I love plants and to make things and hang out outside.  After the concert and the conversation about data, I think about dancing and coloring differently - I think of them as life. I think of them as important life to my family. I'm enjoying myself in a role that can be mundane, sure, but the mundane is totally optional.  You're the queen of this castle, Mama, and we need you to love it, to live here, to sparkle. What if me being me makes my kid who may love data love data? 

What do you enjoy about yourself? Didn't you love to see your mama doing her thing, being herself?  Your babes need you, that's obvious, but they need the you deep, deep down inside there to show up everyday.  They need you to like you and enjoy yourself.  Actually my babes need you and I need you, too.  I want to encourage you today to fan up a passion inside and express it in your home. No guilt. No comparasion.  No judgment.  I want you to know that I like you, and your kids do, too. 

 Simple and true.  Thank you, Mom, for showing me you.  

Sarah Clark is on a quest with her Maker to reach her full potential.  She is a wife to Peter for 14 years, mom to Titan, 11, Sophie, 9, Lincoln, 6, and Millie, 4  Her family has been at TFC for around 20 years.  Sarah started a business while staying at home with four kids by making wallets from her fabric scrap collection. It has grown into a line of handmade bags which she sells in her online shop along with her husband's furniture called  Kith & Kin .Sarah is a practicing yogi, lover of dark chocolate, fabric junkie, oil sniffer, lover of stories. She loves learning about people and what they've been through, and encouraging others to reach their full potential.