Making memories...

I've come to the realization this week that being a good mom is 99% attitude. Unfortunately for me (and my children), I suck in the attitude department. Ok...I do not totally suck. I am actually an optimist, by nature. Prior to having my kids, I was a go-with-the-flow sort of girl. I didn't need a plan. I didn't need an objective. I was content to let things happen as fate allowed, and I would deal with issues as they arose. I firmly believed things would work out and, through divine intervention perhaps, I would be just fine. And somehow, I did manage to survive just fine.

Since having children, that has changed. Suddenly, I have turned into a control freak. I have this overwhelming desire to control and manipulate my environment in a way that I never have before. Suddenly, clutter drives me mad. Disorganization makes me crazy. A day without planned activities leaves me utterly lost. Those days are few and far between, but when they happen, I feel a sort of frantic need to fill the day with some sort of planned activity. What happened to that go-with-the flow girl? Perhaps with three children, it is impossible to be that person...? However, I think that I need to try. I want to let a little bit of that "me" from ten years ago into my life now. I need to remember how to relax. I need to let go. I need to realize that those objects that I consider clutter are treasures to my children. Those plan-free days that make me frantic are the exact days that my children will remember fondly when they are grown.

Looking back on my own childhood, I remember very little about family vacations and "important" events. Rather, I remember the insignificant little everyday details. I remember my dad sitting at the kitchen table eating a fried bologna sandwich and Fritos, reading the newspaper. I remember arguing over whose turn it was to do the dishes. I remember sitting at the table doing my homework while my mom cooked dinner. I remember watching The Three Stooges with my dad on Sunday mornings. I remember taking baths with my sisters. I remember my mom always smelling like Colgate toothpaste. I remember the night my dad gently explained to me that our house was made of brick and didn't burn easily. I had watched the episode of Little House on the Prairie where the blind school burned to the ground...and I was in hysterics. I remember climbing into my mom and dad's bed that night, and many nights thereafter. I remember drinking grape kool-aid out of yellow aluminum glasses. I remember riding in the cab of my dad's old green pick-up truck, standing next to him with my arm around his shoulder as he drove (he'd probably be arrested for that today). Those are just a few of the memories that make up my childhood. I need to relax and realize that I have been entrusted with making memories for my own children. These are the days that will make up their childhood thirty years from now when they are reminiscing. The clutter and disorganization aren't really important. I have a lifetime to be organized...they have limited time to be children.