To the Future Owner of 515:

This was our first real home. It was almost 10 years ago and when we bought it, we considered all the downsides: the neighbors were (going to be) close, the school would mean a lot of adolescents, and (at that time) there was ALOT of wood paneling and pocket doors and scarlet red carpet and the worst kitchen. Ever. But we moved in. And when we saw them, the neighbors were awesome and the only time we knew we lived by a jr high was when we would hear the distant, joyful cries of track season. And project by project, with all our hearts, we drank beers and painted walls and used a skill saw.

In the 10 years we’ve lived here, we’ve gone from newlyweds and professionals to (almost) 40-year-olds and parents. We brought our babies home here, they took their first steps here and we have done some growing (up) here too. We became a family here. We are excited for our family to have a change but I’m so thankful for our time in this house. This house was HOME.

Here are some tips for loving and living in this house:

The backyard is 10 degrees hotter than the actual temp, tomatoes are meant to be grown in the backyard.

And to that end, use the laundry lines at least once in the Summer. The clothes dry fast and smell good.

Enjoy the crocasmia in August. It lights the front yard up.

Get to know the neighbors. They are awesome.

Smell the roses. No, literally. The rose vine that yields all of those rose was once just a stick and we left it and now it blooms. And blooms. And blooms. And the hydrangea is called ever-summer and it blooms all summer long. May to August.

Entertain here. This house loves a good bbq or party.

Sit out front in the summer and enjoy the front yard and passers-by. My kids have spent a lot of time running through a sprinkler out there and it warms my heart.

We’re taking with us a lot of awesome memories but if you don’t mind, we are probably leaving a piece of our hearts behind here. May it bless your family and give you as many fond memories and fun times as it has for us. Anyway, we will probably see you around. We’re only moving 1.5 miles south.

Best wishes. Enjoy her, she’s been so good to us.

Love, The Svenkeruds

I don’t ever set resolutions but vocalizing intentions at the start of the year isn’t a bad thing. What I intend may or may not happen. I may get derailed but as of now, my plan is:

Be more in the moment with my kids.
Why am I home with them anyway? What am I doing this for? If not to be with them. I hate getting on the floor and playing. But I need to start doing it. Otherwise, I’ll look back and feel like a real asshole.

Be less distracted….
By coordinating adult social activities. By technology. By all I want to accomplish in a day.

Be a badass wife.
Like old-fashioned-1950’s-in-the-service-of-my-husband-kinda wife. Because if we’re not good, our kids suffer, our connection suffers. After all, I have to live with him, travel with him and love him long after they’re gone. More hubs time, little less girlfriend time.

Push myself further.
In mothering, in organizing, in self-reflection, in discipline, in athletics.

Be good with 39.
Marinate in it, give 39 a hug. I have my family and my health and I should be proud of my age.

Look ahead.
To when I’m done with early rearing and being at home. Start to prepare now for what I want to do in 3 years. Which time has proven, will go by in a flash.

Be more faithful, grateful, and in the service of others.
The time is now to set the example for the kids. Honoring God, them and others.

I was told in early motherhood (& it’s proven true) that every time you get used to one phase, they switch it up on you. So far, I have gained some solace from this adage through difficult phases. Like, when they finally start sleeping through the night…and then teething happens. When they can eat their own meals…and then suddenly become picky and really good at throwing food on the floor.

My son has been (get ready to throw up in your mouth a little) a totally normal toddler/preschooler but pretty much, laid back, receptive to correction and all around, a joy to parent. I have never experienced a lay-down-on-the-floor-and-cry tantrum in public…until recently. I woke up about four weeks ago and the-kid-who-used-to-be-my-kid had been abducted and replaced by someone I’ve never met before. And this kid…this kid…

Picture this: Target. Me, two kids, two errands, 23 minutes and a mandatory walk through to view the two aisles that house the entire collection of Hot Wheels as a reward for patiently tolerating the process. Then imagine a meltdown. You get the idea. I’m a tantrum novice, there’s two teenage-ish checkers and a whole-lotta-judgey-one-kid-having-moms staring at me. I just keep struggling with the internal dialogue: “I have to get this done”/”you cannot allow this behavior”/”I have to get this done”/”you cannot allow this behavior”/”I have to get this done”/”you cannot allow this behavior”. In the end, I scraped him up, I did a whisper yell and a firm arm grab and prayed that if nothing else was gained from this episode, those teenage-ish checkers, at the sight of this display, were compelled to abstain from sex until such time that they feel ready to deal with the outburst they just witnessed.

As recently discussed with a friend, their behavior changes, you freak out (who is this kid?) and just as you devise a strategy to address said behavior, it changes again. A moving target. So I’m going to take this one in stride. I’ll introduce myself to the Preschooler-Formerly-Known-as-Soren and sooner or later, he will probably re-inhabit his body. I’m just going to take it one episode at a time and deal with each incident as it arises. I’m new at all of this and I can only do my best. I’m not being glib about it but I have to trust that part of the plan is that I have instincts and I should trust them. Reading a bunch of parenting books to deal with this moment in motherhood would be a waste of precious time. I could be on the floor playing with him…whoever HE is.

It seems to me that me and my mommy friends have a number of parenting tools and conveniences at our finger tips these days. I’ve often thought if I can’t parent in this day and age, I probably can’t parent. Snap-n-go’s, the thing with wheels that you can strap your convertible car seat (and let’s be honest, toddler) to and roll them through the airport, travel systems, sun tents, pop-up bassinets, Johnny Jump Up’s, exer-saucers and numerous other tools of confinement. Pre-portioned, pre-packaged and even healthy snacks for on-the-go. It makes me wonder, how did mommies-past do it without these conveniences? I mean, I know how they did it. With a lot of planning. But I feel grateful to live in a world where if I need it, I can buy 15 more minutes of errand running or grocery shopping by sticking apple sauce packaged in a convenient pouch, in my daughter’s face.

I can see it in the eyes of every middle-aged woman when I’m cruising around with my Bob. My Mom and the moms of my peers are imagining all the things they could have achieved with the same tools-of-the-trade. I’m pretty sure I can read my Mom’s mind when she thinks, “you can safely confine, entertain and feed the kid with little to no effort. Why can’t you also keep your floors clean”? And she’s got a point. So I wonder, how can I sometimes feel so overwhelmed by this seemingly easier time in which to be a parent?

I think I have arrived at the answer: Because I am of “advanced maternal age”, maybe it’s that I’m a little smarter than say, I would have been, doing this, in my 20’s. I was not a mature 20-something. And though I probably would have had more energy to do this job, I would have been less aware of the significance and importance of it. This satisfies me, the answer is that I’m just “smart” enough to be overwhelmed by the enormous responsibility of rearing contributing members of society. Yup, that must be it. Balancing child-rearing and housework is waaayyyy too much. This reasoning would actually make sense if  I was doing amazing projects with them, taking them on field trips to amazing places, dusting off the flashcards, making little geniuses. Which I’m mostly not. I mean, some days I hear myself parent and even I think, “that was weak”. Preschoolers and toddlers smell weakness. Must work on parenting confidence/do amazing projects/take on amazing field trips/create little geniuses. But with all these tools, some days, if we all make it through alive and no one eats a sticker, I feel accomplished. Maybe the actual answer is, it’s all relative. I have more tools but it still feels hard. My Mom was better off than a pioneer woman but I bet it didn’t feel easy at the time. Maybe the answer is, some days, no matter the tools, motherhood can be really hard.

Thankfully, one of the most amazing parts of motherhood is timing. Because on really hard days, when Soren is unrecognizable to me, tools don’t matter and I start thinking, “Oh yeah, kid…I’m done with this” or “I’m going back to work” or “how could Paul do this to me and where in the H-E-double-hockey-sticks is he?”, I get a hug or a kiss or an unsolicited “I love you”. And I thank God for unsolicited “I love you”s. They are the difference between starting each new day with a clean slate or running for the border. Canadian border. I have relatives there.

Reset.