the mathewes family

I'm singing Ruth to bed. I've been doing that ever since she was born. She's an anxious girl, nervous about going to sleep on her own. I don't blame her. She's always been small for her age, and I'd like to think that made her feisty.

The sound of my voice stops her from talking. It helps her calm down enough to close her eyes. Lately, because she's scared to lie down, I tell her that when I sing, she can lie down, because it makes "all the bad stuff go away."

Wouldn't it be great if I really had that magical power, eh?

Lucas, however, must be held and cuddled to bed. I don't think the singing matters as much for him. For him, it's all about touch and closeness; knowing you're near through the electricity of contact.

Lucas goes to bed much more easily than Ruth now, but he's a lighter sleeper. Go figure. I can sit next to Ruth and yell her name, and she won't budge.

What a pair.

@ September 1, 2010 8:23 PM

We're home. We're unpacked. It took almost a whole week, but we did it.

What I'm most excited about is this: in the process of packing and unpacking, I managed to get rid of an astounding amount of stuff. Old posters, items we hadn't used in years, and useless junk that we somehow held on to thinking it was really meaningful made its way to the trash. Interesting books, my framed artwork, kids' clothes, and other useful do-dads went to friends, family, or the thrift store.

I feel so much lighter now, and that when we move out of seminary, our moving van will be able to accommodate everything with room to spare. Having just what we need (and maybe a little more) is exactly the way I like to feel.

This is new to me; I used to think I was a collector. I collected books, sea shells, random interesting junk that struck my fancy. After reading Your Money or Your Life, my habits towards my belongings came under fire--what was I doing with all these random collections taking up space? I didn't cherish them; they irked me. I felt obligated to keep them for--well, I couldn't figure out the reason, really.

And so I got rid of a bunch of them. And now I feel better. I'm going to keep up the de-cluttering habit on a weekly basis from now on; it will keep me excited and mentally liberated to take great care for the items I genuinely value and enjoy.

@ September 12, 2010 8:02 PM

Ruth had her first day of preschool yesterday. The dropoff went rather smoothly. Contrary to stories I had heard about other mothers, I didn't get emotional when I dropped her off. Rather, I found myself waxing sentimental when I saw Steve pull up to our parking space, and pull a sleepy toddler out of the car. She's my big girl now, I thought.

It's a large change in the life of a parent when your child starts having experiences without you around. Of course, that's what growing up entails--more independence. To me, it's frightening and exhilarating to think of all the things that my children will do, say, explore, and more, without me. They're vulnerable, but you have to let go in order to let them learn, and to let your heart stretch a little bit too.

In a way, it's a good thing that human dependence lasts for comparatively long; I don't think parents are built for a mere six week infant-to-adolescent transition, like a kitten. However much we long for our kids to think for themselves, we're just as enthralled with their neediness as they are with us.

None of these thoughts are new, of course. There's nothing new under the sun. But she's my first, and so with her, so much of life is new, like the first sounds of birds in the morning. The changes she goes through are like whiffs of seasons in the air. Tonight I dressed her brother in a red sleeper she wore a year ago. Has it been that long?

@ September 15, 2010 8:42 PM