Moments of Grace: My Daughter's Beauty

I literally watched with awe as our Liliana marched up the mountain. She was so determined, so positive, so inspired."We got this mommy, we are Packards, I'm going the hard way, I'm getting stronger, I am never ever ever EVER giving up!"

Her sweet brother pushed his little legs to the absolute max led by her tenacious example before promptly falling asleep on my back after he could not walk anymore.

 I could not help but stare at her sun kissed skin and wispy pony tail, her little arm muscles, her strong and sturdy legs and bum, and her beautiful back. She is so strong!  She is so beautiful!

The new friend we were with commented that Liliana's legs look like a pro-athlete and went on to suggest that it must run in the family because, look at me. My heart surged with pride. 

I am not ashamed to admit everything I just said. I am ashamed to admit that I've felt self conscious about aspects of our daughter's appearance at times. Just little things, like that she was born with a very crooked nose, that she has a huge (entirely endearing) gap in between her two front teeth, even that she is a little ball of muscle and already it is hard to find pants that fit comfortably over her strong legs. 

Much like her Mommy!

It is no secret that the struggle with self loathing, which seems to be part of the human experience, has over the years manifested itself in me through an intense dislike of my body. I spoke several posts back about my New Year's resolution of a return to vitality, health, strength, and fitness. Part of this year's journey has been about learning to be peaceful with the body I was blessed with, for myself and for the sake of my children, who see everything! 

And yet, it was in this moment and through the comment of a new friend that I realized the beauty I could not stop looking at in my darling was also a beauty that I had. A beauty of strength, tenacity, athleticism, and determination. 

I have spent so much of my life pining for the coat hanger beauty of runway models and yet as I watched our girl I was gripped with the fear that she would ever want to look differently than she did marching up the Grassi Lakes. In that moment I also realized, in a way I had not before, the absurdity of me ever wishing I looked differently than do. 

These moments of grace become something to hold onto when I come back down from the mountain top and the clear vision of things as they are fades into the busy mess of regular life. 

What a responsibility it is to raise little people into wholehearted big people who have a sense of their worthiness and their mission! 

And yet, what a gift our little people give us as they draw us out of our brokenness and selfishness and reflect back to us our own worthiness. 

Moments of grace, indeed!

With love and prayers,

I See You

I received a video message from my sister the other day, and among the many loving words in it were these special and profound three, "I see You."

Our little Lyla bug was watching with me and has since taken to using them when one of her other family members is cranky, sad, frustrated, or even happy! "Don't worry Daddy, I see you."

It took me back to an interview I did last summer when we were analyzing income options and considering sending me to work. I was asked how I would handle a student sent to me for bad behaviour. I said something along the lines of, "first I would let her know that I see her, that underneath the bad behaviour I see her beauty and recognize a cry to be acknowledged and loved."

It took until receiving the message from my sister, one which caused me to feel so affirmed and so held, that I started contemplating what those three beautiful words could do as I discipline and as I relate to my husband and even as I learn to know and love myself better. 

I see you. I see that you are worthy, I see that you are imperfect and utterly lovable despite imperfection. I see that you are trying. I see that you are suffering. I see that you are human. I see that you are beautiful.

How can I help? 

My darling man has always struggled with emotion from me. When I am sad or emotional he wants to fix it asap. He knows that sometimes we have to sit with a feeling, even a sad one, and that sometimes we just need to invite someone in to sit with us. Of course it is natural that he doesn't want to be invited in to sit with me, he wants to make me feel better!

The other day we were out eating chicken wings and enjoying a  nice cold one, and despite my best efforts, as I relayed a story to him my tears started rolling into the spicy chicken wings. Sorry Love!

He looked at me straight in the eye. He did not turn away or shift uncomfortably. He said, " I SEE YOU. That is so hard, and I'm sorry you are sad."  These are powerful words. To be vulnerable and to be seen. Do we not all need more of this? 

Love to you this morning,

Hold Them Closer

"Mooooooommy!....mommy?....mooooommmmy!"

I was jolted out of sleep the other night with the cries of our eldest in her bed down the hall. Through the fog of the deep sleep that, mere seconds before, I had been in I asked her what was wrong. She had a bad dream and was afraid to close her eyes again. "That's OK sweetie, mommy will hold you tight and close, and so will your angels. Everything is OK now."

I lay there holding her as her breath became deeper and more steady, creeping out only to find that my spot on the pillow had been commandeered by a curly two year old in search of some middle of the night cuddles.

As I lay in the dark holding him close, I reflected on this beautiful constant self-forgetfulness that is so much part of parenthood.

There are some who seem to preach that if you just train a child right they will fall asleep on their own and be beautifully independent from the time they are merely weeks old and you will "have your life back." At least for me, that has not been the way it works.

Even if a baby does learn to sleep through the night then they get a cold and need love, or a new tooth and need comfort, or become a toddler whose brain is exploding with development and need to fall asleep in your arms, or a preschooler who is exploring boundaries and needs to know you are the safest place. We never get our "old life" back. Thank goodness, because in its glorious exhausting messiness, this new life is much more beautiful and meaningful.

I have learned that when a child is the hardest to love is usually when they need to be held closer. That screaming baby needs to hear your heart beat, the tantruming toddler needs to be enveloped in a hug, and the defiant 5 year old needs to be pulled on your lap and kissed over and over. I can only imagine how close one's child needs to be held through adolescence.

This is hard for me, because in those moments when I find my darlings to be behaving quite despicably I want to turn my back for the moment and shut them out. This choice to hold them closer and shut the rest of the world out is what demands the constant denial of self and opting for love.

But oh how I do not regret one moment of holding them closer. I don't regret that they didn't sleep through the night until they were weaned, or that we bought a toddler sized carrier and even our 5 year old likes to be worn in it. I don't regret one single sleepless night of comforting or plans changed because of little needs. I see the beautiful fruits of our sacrifice growing, flourishing, and learning healthy independence right before my eyes. I pray that as they grow my children learn to opt for love, even when it doesn't feel good. In the meantime I will continue to hold them closer.

Whether your day is rainy like ours or filled with sunshine, may it be especially full of hugs.

With love,