sheri carlstrom...slices of an ordinary life

Love is Patient...

Patience is not my virtue. Fortunately for me, I believe my husband was marinated in it the nine months he grew within his mother. I cannot  figure out how else it comes so naturally to him. Tangled necklace? He gently and tediously untangles it. Not ready on time? He casually comes and hangs out in the bedroom or bathroom counter. Cupboards left open, toothpaste cap left off? He will close and cap without a word. Kids who don't understand math, no problem, he will explain it a different way.

I remember when we were living in our first house, while he was at work one day, I decided I really wanted to paint a boarder around the little bathroom in the basement. I was so excited, I bought the paint (there would be deep red and dark green stripe around the middle of of the room) and wanted it done that day...so I did it myself.

I have seen Kevin paint...he washes walls, primes, tapes and measures if necessary, (painting horizontal stripes should have required measuring and taping) he even puts down drop clothes. I had no time for any of this, I just wanted stripes. So I eyeballed the wall, penciled in some stripes and painted. As I stood back to admire my quick handiwork I couldn't believe how crooked my lines were! (Not sure what is more surprising here, that the lines were crooked, or that this surprised me!)

When Kevin came home I was both excited and nervous to show him the bathroom. I don't remember his words, but I remember feeling like it was OK. He displayed patience in the moment, and patience in the long run as he never repainted the walls.

Several years ago Zach wanted his room painted...all stripes. I watched as he patiently measured, marked, taped and painted these walls. Then last year the girls wanted their room repainted. They share a room and each designed what they wanted on their side. Stripes on one, polka dots on the other. Again he patiently measured, marked, taped and painted these walls. He even created the template for the polka dots. This project took some  t i m e.  This past weekend he did it again, Kyler finally got his room painted...what did he want? Stripes.

 

 

 

 

 

For someone like me to be married to someone like him is one of the great life mysteries. Or it is one of God's greatest blessings....for me.
Love is patient. I am loved.
Thank you Kevin. Thank you God, Amen.

A True Tale of Grace

It was Christmas day, 2009 and my brother-in-law, Jim was not at home with his three young kids and wife, he was out plowing the streets of the town in which he works. The beautiful snowfall on Christmas Eve meant my sister-in-law would have to hold the eagerness of their kids at bay until her husband could get back home.
 
As he rounded a corner a woman ran out YELLING, threw her gloves at him (as well as some profanity) for all the snow he just left at the end of her driveway. The thing you need to know about Jim is this - he is very conscientious. He is actually aware of how curves tend to dump more snow in some driveways and does whatever he can to help spread it around and minimize what he can. Another thing to know about Jim is this, his plowing route has the fewest complaints. And the last thing to remember here is this - its Christmas morning and his wife and kids are home waiting to begin celebrating Christmas...and he just got screamed at...for plowing the streets...on Christmas morning.
 
 One year later:  It was Christmas Eve, while Jim was out plowing, his boss had helped by plowing part of Jim’s route. When Jim came around a corner, he saw a lot of snow had just been plowed into the "screaming" (my description) woman's driveway. "Oh no, not on my route will that happen again." (He didn't feel like being yelled at again.) So he maneuvered his plow as best as he could and removed the snow from the end of her driveway. Angry woman averted. Time to go home and help his wife with Christmas Eve preparations.
 
Later that day while Jim was at the grocery store, he noticed the car next to him had left the back door open and there were Christmas gifts in the backseat. He was worried about the gifts being stolen, was wondering if he should just shut the door, questioned if it had been left open for a reason, when the owner of the car arrived ~ someone Jim recognized immediately ~ the woman who had yelled at him the year before! She obviously didn't recognize him and went on about how kind he was to be concerned and to make sure nothing was taken.
 
I looked at him as he told this story, and said incredulously, "You told her that was funny since you were the same person that she screamed at the year before, right?!"

"No. I just told her Merry Christmas and got in my car." 
 
Unbelievable. I just looked at him. I've always liked my brother-in-law, but now I admired him too. This is a story of grace. He didn't need her to be ashamed of her actions. He didn't want to bring her disgrace. He extended grace...and she didn't even know it.
 
The following week Jim sat in a meeting at work and it was brought to the attention of the staff that a  woman had written a note thanking the plow driver who took care of the snow at the end of her driveway earlier that week. She described this driver as her "Christmas Angel". 
 
I love this story. Its inspiring to me. It makes me remember that God grants me grace all the time...grace that I sometimes don't even know about.  Grace that I need to spread around, grace that I don't need to highlight (which wouldn't really be grace anyway).

Thanks Jim for being the kind of guy that you are, I'm glad you married Kevin's sister all those years ago so we could claim you as family as well.

Perspectives on Happiness

It was an ordinary day last month when my brother-in-law, Greg, decided it was time to go to the doctor. He hadn't been feeling well for awhile and it was time to find out why. Really...just an ordinary day.

After a few appointments and several tests, the doctor said "cancer" and ordinary slipped right out of the day. I don't know what its like to hear that word, but Greg said what I have heard so many others say, "I know the doctor was still talking, but I didn't hear anything after the word cancer."

Processing time. Education time; learning about things you don't really want to learn about. Grieving. Fear. Courage. I don't really know about these things; selfishly, I hope I never do.

Today was to have been an ordinary day; Christmas break, no school, maybe some sledding and hot chocolate. But seventeen of us (yep, you read that right - seventeen!) sitting in a surgery waiting room is anything but ordinary - even to those around us sitting here waiting for their loved ones, our group seems anything but normal. We're OK with that.

This experience makes me soak in these days that make up my life that seem so ordinary. I read an article this morning in Real Simple as I sat on this uncomfortable chair in this waiting room that is way too warm. In January's issue, Meg Wolitzer wrote "the psychology of happiness" and in it she said, "...being happy is about having the space to appreciate the ordinary things that do in fact make me "happy," though at first glance they might not be seen that way. An absence of chaos; an absence of phone calls with disturbing news; an absence of business emails that upend your day and demand attention right then and there; no acutely ill parents; no fragile children calling shakily from college. Being able to sit down with a glass of wine and some really good, tiny little olives with your husband; having a nice meal with your kids that's not rushed or fraught. These seem like small things, perhaps like pedestrian things, but I protect them fiercely, knowing that on the other side of an imaginary wall waits the possibility that all of them will soon be gone..."

Interestingly, over the last few weeks, I was thinking about the possibility of these ordinary days of our family soon being gone. With a daughter in college and the others seemingly following quickly, I was suddenly aware this Christmas that it could be very soon when there is a significant other, and then a spouse, and then quite possibly an absence because new traditions are begun in the new families that will spout from this family tree of ours.

I do remember days when happiness meant something external, possibly something shiny, something special, certainly something out of the ordinary. I am grateful for perspective that has evolved with twenty years of marriage, four kids, experiences like this and more. Truly, happiness is found in the very ordinary days of this life of mine, something that most days I hold in the palm of my hands. Ordinary will look different someday, but I believe if I look, I will find happiness there as well.

Your new ordinary is coming Greg and Tracey, and happiness will be found within...watch for it.

First Ever 5K

Zach was the one to say that he and Erin should run in the 5K that he saw  advertised.  Hmmmmm....thought this mom, that sounds like a great experience for them to have together. Then I realized it was a weekend Courtney would be home from college. So I threw the idea of joining them out to her. I looked at the brochure again; 10K or 5K Run/Walk. Hmmmmm....I could certainly "run" part of a 5K and walk part of it.

So I registered all of us for our first ever 5K. Zach in all his ambition wanted to run the 10K. I suggested that since he had never even run a 5K, he should run that instead. (Way to speak belief into him!!)  The three older kids started together - with Zach high stepping, running backwards, talking, falling back and then sprinting the whole way. (Note to self:  he could have done the 10K)

Kevin and I alternated jogging and walking, with Kyler hanging with us. (Kevin was gracious to be at my side as he could have finished much ahead of me!) It was a fun experience; the energy of the people was engaging, there were even a few people along the course cheering. I didn't care at all how I finished, I just thought it was fun to be a part of it.

They were posting results as quickly as people were finishing the race; at the point where we last checked, I had finished 8th out of 9th in my age group  (with more people still  to come in) and had a 13.87 mile time (hey, you gotta start somewhere). Since I'm not really very competitive, I was surprised that I immediately was thinking, I should do this again and work to beat my time! In the end, Erin came in 1st in her age group and Zach is now looking at a 10K!

I'm not sure everyone initially thought it was such a great idea to spend our family entertainment budget on registration fees for the race, but in the end I think we would all agree it was a good and fun family experience. Right kids?

with a 13.87 time and

Running in the Right Direction

 
Cross Country - a sport new to our family this season because of Erin. In sixth and seventh grades she ran the 800 meter in track so that she could run in meets (she wasn't fast enough in the shorter distances), but by her own admission running long distance was not her thing. So imagine my surprise when she chose to join the cross country team this, her 8th grade, year. She ran with the team all summer, displaying a motivation and work ethic that I admired in the early mornings that were sometimes hot and humid.

Her goal the whole season was to improve her time, if even by a few seconds. She did that. At one meet she shaved 30 seconds off of her time, I asked how she did that and she replied that she ran the whole way. Apparently she had been walking some segments of the race, but this time she had run the whole course. Serioulsy, I am so proud of her. Today, at her last meet, she set a new time goal and she met it - to the second!

The way Erin looks at things is inspiring. She wants to be involved, she wants to work to be better, she wants to learn new things. She sets goals, she meets goals, she sets new goals, she is encouraging to others. I'm glad Erin is my daughter, her presence is uplifting and her efforts are inspiring. Good job, baby girl.

A Sober Topic

I wrote about teen drinking on Mother of the What?!
You can read it here.

Sunday Morning

 
 I wrote about Sunday, you can read it here.

This Week

It is the first day of the week in which Courtney leaves for college. I cannot hardly take it in as my eyes see those boxes on the calendar. On the 7th day, we will be in the car with so much stuff and her; both excitement and dread in my heart.

I cry each year during that first week of school. Silly really. But I don't seem to have a lot of control over it. It began when Zach started middle school. I went to one of the windows to see them at the bus stop and there they were standing together, talking and laughing. I suddenly saw a flash of them as a four and two year old in a cardboard box from the new refrigerator. They had made the box a car with their crayons and were taking a trip to grandma's. It was packed with stuffed animals and them...laughing and playing together all morning as they created the car and all afternoon as they traveled! I think the tears began because I suddenly realized how fast time was going, how much wider their circles were getting, how some some of their adventures were going to take them out of my living room.

I know she will be back, I know many good and wonderful things are ahead, I am grateful she will be within a few hours. But this week my baby is moving to college and to be honest, none of this feels ordinary just yet.

Another Ordinary Day...But Set Apart

It was an ordinary day...a Wednesday even, middle of the week, nothing really special at all, in fact I had picked up football carpool and run the youngest to day camp that morning. But it happened to be the day we marked twenty years of marriage. I'm not very big on Valentine's Day or anniversary celebrations, which tends to make things like this easy on my husband.

We did speak months ago about this particular anniversary though, and we acknowledged that it was falling in a very busy and memory making summer. We saw a graduation, a graduation party, lots of out of town family at our home, a 20th Anniversary, 5 summer camps, and a 50th birthday all in the span of about 6 weeks! So although we made some vague plans of a trip to San Francisco, we knew it would not happen on that Wednesday.

With four kids, and it being the middle of an already full week, it would have been easy to just grab some dinner out, exchange a card and come home knowing that later we would mark this milestone. Honestly, this would have been enough for me.

But Kevin made reservations at a very nice restaurant, my girls helped me decide which dress to wear, I wore some borrowed high heel shoes, and off we went. As we drove in his new (used) sports car, I felt a little transformed from "mom" to "date". 

We were greeted with "Happy Anniversary" by the hostess and waiter, and I felt set apart. As we lingered over appetizers, wine, dinner and even dessert, I felt in love. As  I read the letter my husband wrote to me, I felt loved. I wandered in my thoughts back to the beginning our life together as we stood together...apart from, but with family and friends, to say that we were doing this thing called life as one. 

We will get to San Francisco - hopefully this winter, when our daughter is settled in college and football  season is over for our son...although basketball season will be in full swing for our baby girl. I guess there will always be something scheduled in the boxes on the calendar - maybe not big stuff like graduations and milestone birthdays and anniversaries, just ordinary life stuff. But as we took time out for "us" last week, I was reminded that carving time out, and being intentional about nurturing us as a couple is what will grant us these ordinary days we so enjoy. It was a reminder that I needed. Happy Anniversary to the love of my life.

Oh yeah...our kids remembered we were husband and wife as well as mom and dad, and in addition to the roses, this is what we came home to on that Wednesday...  

Happy Mother's Day

Fellow Moms,

So our day is coming to a close, and before it is over I wanted to tell you from one mom to another, Happy Mother's Day, and Thank You.

Thank you for your presence in my life. You lift me to that next better place. You inspire me, walk with me, counsel, laugh, listen, pray for, and with me. Some of you daily, some of you not so daily. Some of you presently, and some from my past reach into my presence and guide me still. Some of you have been walking with me for ages, some of you I met last week.

Being a mom is hard. I believe I could not to it well on my own. I know when I walk into dark places, they would be darker if you were not holding my hand. I know when I walk in sweet places, they are sweeter because we share them together. I know when I walk in victory, it feels more victorious because we raise our hands as one.

Thank you fellow moms, you make this journey less lonely and more fun. I hope you felt as honored and loved as surely as you deserved today.

Love,
Sheri