Love Your Neighbors (Or At Least Check In on Them)

When my husband and I built our house 4 years ago, we had big dreams for ourselves, our growing family, and our brand new neighborhood. We were eager to make this new house our home. We were hopeful that we’d find friends inside the homes around us.

Then, life happened. It didn’t help that, as the resident introvert, I spent most of my hours inside the house or in my own yard. The neighborhood also went on a building hiatus thanks to the economy. We still have empty lots on either side of us with nothing behind us but a big open field.

It is lovely, yet lonely.

We’ve been friendly enough to those around us. We smile, make idle chit-chat, wave as we drive by. I’ve written down names and tried to remember faces.

Our nearest next door neighbors are friendly and helpful, but we only interact with them in passing or when someone needs help moving heavy furniture.

Around the time my youngest was born, we noticed that the family never brought in their garbage cans after pick up day. My husband and I chuckled about it a few times. How hard is it to wheel the cans back up the driveway, especially with four adults (a retired couple and their two college-age children) living there?

Perhaps it was a battle of wills. Maybe it was one person’s job and he or she wasn’t doing it. This went on for months- our curious guessing and the garbage cans being left at the curb for days on end.

When my daughter was three months old, I saw my neighbor getting out of her van. Something told me to go over to say hi and show her my baby girl. She was shocked! She didn’t realize we were even expecting! And then she delivered some shocking news of her own.

Her husband had died. He was diagnosed with lung cancer, fought hard, but lost his battle quickly around the time my little girl was born.

I was devastated and so very sad for her. What’s more, I was sad that we both experienced major life-changing events, and neither of us knew or reached out to the other.

As we brought life into the world, she had to say goodbye. As we rejoiced, she grieved. Would it have killed us to walk the garbage cans back to the garage for them? Or check in to see if everything was alright?

It used to frustrate me that I didn’t live in a neighborhood where I felt comfortable borrowing sugar or asking someone to grab our mail. It irritated me that my neighbors flew down the road and darted inside before I could even offer a wave. It bothered me that I didn’t really know anyone who lived near me.

And then it hit me. It takes a good neighbor to know one. I am just as guilty of driving down the road in haste, of pulling in to my garage and disappearing, and of being friendly enough, but not hospitable.

The chaos of life makes it easy to neglect the needs of those in our own backyard, but I realized it was time to stop being selfish. I still spend a great deal of time inside my house and in my own backyard, but I’ve also reached out to many of my neighbors in ways I wouldn’t have dreamed about before. I’ve been out to lunch with a neighbor down the street. I’ve looked after another neighbor’s pets while she went on a trip. I’ve even volunteered to help plan a street-wide cookout this summer.

Whether you live in a neighborhood like mine, in an apartment complex, or in the country with no neighbors at all, God calls us to love and serve others. Think of someone who lives (or works) nearby. Do something kind for that person today.

Copyright 2013 Leanne Willen

Day to Day Happenings

Life with a four year old and a 20 month old can be pretty exhausting, but equally hilarious.

What I love most about my four year old right now:

He has tons of imaginary friends. His current imaginary friend is called, “My Fella.” I haven’t the slightest clue where he came up with that, but it is just the cutest thing.

The other day, I overheard him talking to someone. His voice got really stern and he said, “If that’s how you’re going to behave, I’m not going to play with you.”

I stifled a laugh (I’m pretty certain those exact words in that exact tone came out of my mouth during a rousing game of Chutes and Ladders) and asked him who he was talking to.

“My Fella,” he replied.

What I love most about my 20 month old:

Her obsession with lining things up in rows.

Her names for her baby dolls and stuffed animals. We’ve got Beebee, BayBay, Baby, and Bobo.

What I love most having both a four year old and 20 month old in the house:

There are actually moments in the day when they play together nicely. When they use their creativity and imagination together. When they do something hysterically fun together.

I’ve been beating myself up lately about all the things I do wrong. The house is constantly a mess, except after the kids are in bed. The laundry is often spiraling out of control. Sometimes I yell at my kids for the silliest of things. Sometimes I don’t know exactly how to deal with a tantrum or pouting or not sharing, and I lose my patience. Sometimes I plop them in front of the T.V. so I can have a moment to myself.

When I allow myself to think of all that I’m doing “wrong,” it’s easy to feel defeated. It’s easy to feel overwhelmed and bogged down by the enormous challenge that is life with two little kids.

Then, they do something sweet for each other or for me, and I’m reminded that things really are pretty great. That most days I don’t lose my temper. Most days I discipline in a loving, gentle, yet firm manner. That I spend quality time reading, playing, and engaging with them. That I did fold that one load of laundry. That the house is at least in order from 7:30 p.m. until 6:30 a.m. That I’m incredibly blessed to be the mother of two little miracles.

Living life with joy is constantly choosing to look at the good. It doesn’t mean completely ignoring the bad, but it does mean re-routing our focus to what’s wonderful about our life.

For me, right now, it’s the daily, mundane happenings that make life worthwhile.

What’s it for you?

Copyright 2013 Leanne Willen

Leanne Willen with her mother

A few weeks ago, my mom and I chatted on the phone. She was out walking and I could hear the wind and her breath as she talked. She went off on some tangent and I caught myself rolling my eyes at her. I love my mother to pieces, but sometimes she gets on my nerves.

The eye rolling is nothing new. I’ve been rolling my eyes at her since I was about 12. But for some reason this time made me stop and think. I suddenly realized that I wasn’t doing a very good job honoring my mother at that moment.

I’ve felt guilty lately about the way I treat my mother- sometimes to her face, oftentimes behind her back. She is one of the most caring, generous people I know. She’s always in my corner. And she’s first in line to help when I need something.

We’ve had our fair share of disagreements and drama, but my mother has always been my biggest cheerleader.

The other night, my mom told me that as soon as she figured out how to leave a comment on my blog, she would write the following:

“When you share your words, you change the world.”

Some words I wrote years ago found their way to someone who really needed them recently. They were words I never intended for anyone to see, an unpolished and emotional tribute to a beloved teacher from high school who had died.

Thanks to a mysterious Internet and a mighty God, my teacher’s daughter found them. She’d been having a horrible day and was missing her mother fiercely. Something prompted her to “Google” her mother’s name and there she found some comfort on my very old blog.

Thanks to a mighty Internet and a mysterious God, a friend of mine from high school contacted me to tell me what had happened. As it turned out, my teacher’s daughter shared my post on her Facebook wall as what she was thankful for that day. My high school friend connected us and we were able to talk a little back and forth.

My heart aches for her, but what actually broke my heart was when she said, “Sometimes a girl just needs her mom.”

What this woman would give to have her mother standing in her kitchen as my own mother was in mine just a few short hours ago. What she’d give to have her mother lecture her or give her unsolicited advice. What she’d give to hear her mother carrying on about some seemingly insignificant thing.

I’m completely overwhelmed and humbled by the magnitude of God’s power and love. He gives us what we need at precisely the moment we need it. She needed comfort. I needed humility. She needed something to remind her of her mother. I needed a reminder that I still need my mother.

I can’t even begin to understand how it must feel to lose a parent. The thought alone knocks the breath out of me. We can’t fully understand God’s plan for us or the ones we love, either. We won’t know how our stories end (or begin, really) until we meet again on the other side.

All of our days are numbered. It’s a hard pill to swallow, but it’s true. Perhaps the greatest lesson I’ve learned through this is that the ones I love deserve the best of me. They deserve my smiles and affection, my laughter and attention.

They deserve less eye rolls and more eye contact. They deserve less cold shoulders and more warm hugs.  They deserve to know just how much I love them.

The next time I see my mom, I’ll be first in line to hug her. To tell her how thankful I am for her. To thank her for always being there for me and loving me (eye rolls and all). To thank her for teaching me to change the world.

For those of you who may be missing your mother today, I know “I’m sorry” just isn’t enough. There’s no way I could ever take away your pain, but I humbly offer you my prayers and the promise that I’ll (try to) not take for granted the beautiful gift of my mother.

Copyright 2012 Leanne Willen

On a Wing and a Prayer

Are you the type of person who greets the morning with prayer? Do you start your day with quiet time or Bible study? Do you immediately offer your day to the Lord?

I wish I were that type of person. Instead, I wake up grumpily to the blaring of my alarm or the screaming of a toddler- sometimes both. I groggily grab the toddler from her crib and try to persuade her to come snuggle with me for just a few more minutes. But it’s in vain. Her screaming didn’t just wake me up. It woke her brother up, too.

Before I know it, the morning routine is in full force. If I’m lucky, I’m able to squeeze a few minutes to change clothes and throw my hair in a ponytail.

The day’s quickly lost in breakfast, getting dressed, playtime, snack time, loading dishes, music time, errands, story time, washing dishes, cleaning, fussing, laundry, time outs, Caillou and Little Einsteins, putting away dishes, wiping tears, healing boo boos, sweeping floors, changing diapers, more fussing, lunchtime. Before I know it the day’s half gone. After naptime, it’s back to noise, play, screams, snacks, dinner, bath, bed, another load of dishes, and more laundry.

As I sit in bed and reflect on the day, I cringe at all the moments I lost my temper. I chastise myself for having paper thin patience.  I regret not being the most loving, attentive wife, mother, or human being for that matter.

And I know that it all begins when my head comes up off my pillow. I know that my day would be different if I made time for quiet reflection before hurtling into chaos. But frankly, I like my sleep.

Recently, I picked up a pocket book called “Family Prayers” at our local Catholic bookstore. It cost just a dollar, but it has revolutionized my prayer time. It includes over 30 prayers for families, children, husbands, wives, and much more. This book of simple, quick prayers has helped me form the words that are already in my heart.

I’ve loved every prayer, but two prayers in particular have changed the way I’ve led my days. I’m eternally grateful  for stumbling upon this small book because it has worked big things inside my heart.

I’m far from perfect. I know I’ll still wake up grouchy some days.  I know I’ll still lose my patience with my little ones. I know every moment of the day will not be filled with smiles and joy and gratitude. But, on the days I say these two prayers, I’m more conscious of my actions. I lose my temper a little less than usual. I manage to scrub dishes, clean toilets, fold laundry with a servant’s heart (no easy feat for this gal).

I thought I’d share them with you in case they’re what you’ve been needing, too. It is so important to offer our day to the Lord as soon as we arise. We were given the gift of life from Him. He is the reason we even have a chance at a brand new day. And He is there for us when our tempers rise, when our blood pressure skyrockets, when we feel like we are going to go crazy. He’s listening. Are you praying?

Today
My life is a gift of God given not in years, but a day at a time.
Today is the day the Lord has made for me, and
he planned it to be the most important day of my life.
Yesterday is gone, never to return.
I must not worry about it, but leave it in the hands of God.
Tomorrow and all that it holds is God’s secret
and its coming is not assured.
Only today is mine.
Each day, arranged by God with infinite wisdom and goodness
is his gift, his act of love for me.
In thanksgiving I will offer him every day the gift of myself-
my prayers, my works, joys and sufferings.
Dear Lord, receive them graciously.

A Mother’s Prayer
Help me dear Lord, as a mother, I pray
And bless these hands folded in prayer today;
May they be ever strong as they guide, as they teach,
Being never too far for a child to reach.
May they never, with selfishness, try to dissuade,
Nor too quickly punish, nor too slowly aid.
May they point out the pleasures in laughter and song,
And may they show, wisely, the right from the wrong,
So that one day I’ll know that I’ve helped all I can
To make her a woman, to make him a man.

What about you? Do you have a favorite prayer to get you through your days?

Copyright 2012 Leanne Willen

No Worries

I am a self proclaimed worry wart. I often find myself up in the middle of the night with dozens of thoughts swirling through my mind.

Most of the time the worries are in vain. If my husband is late from work, I automatically panic that he’s been in a car accident. I check on my babies three or four times at night to make sure they are breathing. If a family member calls me at a weird time, I assume the worst. I constantly worry that my front doorbell is going to ring in the middle of the night and a police officer will be at my door with the news that someone I love is dead.

When life is good, I worry and wait for the other shoe to drop. When life is challenging, I worry about life getting worse.

This worry is really a form of sin.

When we worry, we distance ourselves from God. We are telling God that we don’t believe in Him and that He is not in control. While we don’t always understand why we are in one situation or another, we must always believe that God has a greater plan for us. Our current situation and our future situations are all part of God’s “bigger picture” for us. These experiences help shape us into who He wants us to be. Though we can make decisions and we do have free will, we must never forget that He is in control.

The ironic thing is that most of the things we worry about don’t even happen. Even if they do happen, we must trust that when the time comes to meet a challenging situation head on that God will provide for us then.

This past weekend at the ARISE conference, Kimberly Hahn said something that resonated deeply with me. “Worry doesn’t empty tomorrow of sorrow, but it does empty today of strength.“ Instead of worrying about things that are out of our control or things that haven’t happened yet, we should focus on things we can change and things that are happening today. We should center our hearts in prayer and rely on God to carry us through.

Are you as guilty of worrying as I am? I know it is hard (believe me, I know), but we must have faith in God. We must know that He is truly the One in control. When we worry, we waste opportunities to live. We waste opportunities to grow. We turn away from the only One who can really help us.

The best thing we can do when worry overcomes us is pray.

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4: 6-7

See what that says? It says don’t worry about anything. It also says to pray. But first, offer up prayers of thanksgiving. Then, ask God for what you need. Remember, God doesn’t always give us what we want, but He always gives us what we need. We just have to ask.

Let’s work on this together, shall we?

Copyright 2012 Leanne Willen

Choosing Joy

I’ve read several articles lately depicting motherhood as this ugly, isolating, menial place. These mothers, deep within the trenches, have come up for air to help other mothers feel less lonely. To explain that motherhood isn’t about embracing the moment at all. It’s about making it through as unscathed as possible.

Each article has earned a standing ovation across the Internet.

I used to be like that. I complained and cried about the worst parts of my day until there was nothing left to say. I sought pity from those around me.

My husband used to say to me all the time, “You’ll never get this day back.”  His gentle reminder only frustrated me more.

But one day, the negative fog momentarily lifted.  In that rare moment of clarity, I understood what he meant. I realized that these moments are fleeting- the ugly ones and the good ones.

Though my own motherhood is filled with menial tasks and my frustration level on some days is off the charts, I’m still glad to be here. While there have been ugly times, the beautiful ones always win out. Though there are some days when I feel isolated from the world, I know there are plenty of others I can turn to at a moment’s notice.

I’m not trying to sugarcoat my life. I have many tough days. I cry (a lot, actually). I get irritated with my kids. I yell. I complain. But when I do, I feel this heaviness upon me.

When I let go of the anger and resentment, the burden disappears and I feel happier.

Joy is a daily, conscious undertaking. In every moment, we have that choice. We can choose to seek the negative. We can choose to complain. We can see the ugly. Or we can find the beauty. We can choose to be joyful.

In the moments when I feel frustrated, angry, or ready to complain, I take a deep breath and pause. I think, “This moment will pass.”

And I choose joy. I challenge you to do the same.

Copyright 2012 Leanne Willen

Missed Appointment: A Mother’s Priorities

I got up from my chair and suggested we head to the backyard to swing. I pushed them in their swings for who knows how long. We sang songs at the top of our lungs. We laughed. We made up silly stories and laughed some more.

We kicked the soccer ball back and forth. We picked wildflowers. We wandered around our yard and the field behind us.

We headed back to the deck for some more fun at the water table.

I sat back down in my chair and took in the world. I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face. My kids were having the time of their lives. I was, too. This was the most serene I’d felt in a long time. There wasn’t a care in my world, no trouble on my mind. I admired the beauty around me and the sweetness of my children. Pure joy radiated from me.

I ran inside to grab some towels and saw that I had a message on my phone. As I listened to the message, my heart sank. I was supposed to have been at an appointment at 2:30 that day. It was nearly 4:00. Somehow, I’d lost track of an entire day.

How unlike me, I thought. Sure, I can be absent minded and do some silly things, but missing appointments is not one of them.

My husband realized there was something wrong, but he was on the phone. I mouthed to him that I’d missed my appointment and he gave me a nod of understanding, but went on with his phone call.

I called the office and explained what happened. They told me they understood and that they’d waive the “no show” fee. We rescheduled my appointment for this week.

The appointment wasn’t for anything serious. It wasn’t a big deal and it all worked out. Still, I felt terribly guilty. I was angry with myself for being so irresponsible. Normally, I have “to do” lists and spend my days wrought with worry about what I have to do and when I have to do it.

I went back outside to watch my kids, but I just couldn’t shake the disappointment in myself. When my husband finished his phone call, he came outside and sat down next to me. He chuckled a little and tapped his hand over mine.

“That’s not like you,” he reminded me.

I shook my head and said, “I know.” I put my head down in my lap and started to cry.

“Did you get it worked out?” He asked. I shook my head yes. “Are you enjoying this time with the kids?” I shook my head yes. “Then, don’t worry about it. There’s nothing to cry about. Keep on enjoying those kids over there.”

So I did. I forgot my worries. I let go of the guilt and disappointment. I headed straight for the water table and splashed along with my kids.

I know it’s not the most responsible thing in the world, but sometimes life happens when we miss appointments. It happens when we clear our schedules and our minds. It happens when we make time for what’s most important. For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t worried about anything. I was truly soaking up my beautiful, wonderful life.

I pray that you might snatch up some of those fleeting moments yourself! Is there something on your calendar today that can wait?

Copyright 2012 Leanne Willen

I had the blessing of attending an all girls Catholic high school. I am incredibly grateful for my experience there because it gave me a formation of faith, guided me in my life’s passions, and molded me into the woman I am today.

We had a mantra that we learned as freshmen and repeated often through the years: “I am a valuable person. I have dignity and worth. What I do makes a difference.” What a beautiful thing to teach young women during a fragile period in their lives.

After high school, I no longer repeated those words daily, but I carried them around inside my heart. Every now and then, those words resound in my head.

After earning my Masters in Teaching, I was hired into the public school district where I live. The school was low performing and the students were “tough.”

I made it through my first year by the grace of God all the while being taunted, humiliated, and intimidated by my students. It was hard to feel dignified when I had to dodge pencils, paper wads, and books hurled at me. It was hard to feel valuable while suffering verbal abuse that would make most people cringe. It was hard to believe I was making a difference when I feared for my life.

Even though it was hard to feel any sense of dignity or worth during those dark days, I would say to myself (often while driving to work and in between sobs), “I am a valuable person. I have dignity and worth. What I do makes a difference.”

This past November, my husband and I decided it was time for me to quit. I had two small children at home and the toll my “day job” was taking on everyone wasn’t worth it anymore.

A few nights ago, I found myself up hourly with the baby. She finally drifted to sleep at 2:00. At 3:30, my 3 year old came into our bedroom hysterical and crying. I peeled my eyes open to find his entire head covered with blood. I panicked until I realized he just had a bloody nose. I cleaned him up and ushered him back to bed.

I remember closing my eyes at 4:15. My husband’s alarm clock went off at 5:00. By 6:00 everyone was awake.

The whole day went like that. I had a headache from the weather change. I was irritable from a lack of sleep. Both kids were needy and clingy. If I wasn’t wiping one’s nose or bottom or face, I was wiping the other’s.

Mere moments before breaking down, I remembered, “I am a valuable person. I have dignity and worth. What I do makes a difference.”

It may sound trite, but those words soothed me and brought me back from the edge.

It might be hard for you to feel dignity while wearing day old clothes covered in spit up. Perhaps you haven’t brushed your teeth or fixed your hair or eaten because you’ve been busy tending to little ones.

You have dignity.

It might be hard to feel valuable when you struggle to keep up with your children, let alone keep the house clean, and prepare nutritious meals. You spend your day spinning in circles only to find you’ve done nothing by the day’s end. When the kids are finally asleep, you wonder, “What did I even do today?” (No? Is that just me?)

You are a valuable person.

It might be hard to believe you are making a difference as you shuttle your kids across town and back. You drop one off here, drop the other off there. In between car trips you manage to feed them and oversee their homework. Your days are fast paced and chaotic and you aren’t sure when you’ll be able to come up for air.

You are making a difference.

Maybe you are suffering right now. Maybe you are lonesome. Maybe you are lost in the world. No matter your situation right now, you are a child of God. He has a purpose and a plan for you. Trust Him. Listen to Him.

Pray.

And repeat: “I am a valuable person. I have dignity and worth. What I do makes a difference.”

Copyright 2012 Leanne Willen

“But you’re home. You’re  happy and so are our kids. That’s all I care about. We’ll figure it out.” He reassured.

I continued by saying that even though we’re still in this adjustment period, I love being home. Even on the worst of days when both kids are screaming or clingy and my patience is worn thin, I wouldn’t trade it for the world. It’s still better than where I was before.

I feel pretty blessed to have been on both sides of the fence when it comes to being in or out of the home as a mother. I’m very glad that I did work outside of the home for three years because it gave me quite a bit of perspective.

Raising children is hard no matter how you do it.

It was hard when I had to get my little ones up early in the morning and get us all ready and out the door by 6:00. It was hard being away from them all day. It was hard rushing around in the evenings, scurrying to get dinner, racing from here to there. It was impossible to keep up with the house. It was hard.

Now that I am home, I see and understand what at home moms feel like. It is hard to be home all day long with needy, clingy little ones. It is hard to find a good balance between teaching and enriching my children and getting the house in order. It is hard to find a good time to shower, really. It is hard balancing the checkbook and worrying about coming up short. It is hard.

But as a mom at home, I know it could be a lot harder. It was a lot harder. When I was working I was in such a thick mental fog, I could hardly be the mother my children deserved. It was a turbulent and stressful time trying to juggle all those hats.

I’m glad I have that perspective because it keeps me balanced on the toughest days. I’m not much of a homemaker so there has been a bit of a learning curve for me in that department. When I’m scrubbing bathroom floors or wiping up crumbs for the hundredth time, I easily say to myself, “It could be worse.”

Sometimes it is nice to be on the other side of the fence for awhile. This cruel world offers a great deal of harsh judgment and little support, especially for mothers. Being on both sides has not only helped me with my own mothering journey, it has helped me be more supportive and less critical of other mothers around me.

The most valuable thing I’ve learned is that motherhood is hard no matter who you are or what you do. Still, there is plenty of joy in the journey.

Have you found yourself on both sides of the fence (be it motherhood or anything else)? What has it taught you?

Copyright 2012 Leanne Willen

Editor’s Note: Today, we welcome Leanne Willen as our newest member of the CatholicMom.com family of contributors. Leanne blogs at the wonderful Life Happens When and is mom to two adorable children. Welcome Leanne!! LMH

Letting Go

The doctor smiled at me and placed my brand new baby onto my chest. I clumsily wrapped my arms around him. Everything about him was foreign to me.

This child introduced me to motherhood. We learned together as the days passed. By the time he was a year old, I no longer needed resource books or internet message boards.

I finally trusted my mother’s intuition.

Over the past three years, I’ve learned a lot about being a mother. I’ve never known my heart to fill and flood with such deep ranging emotions as it has since becoming a mother.

While the work is tiresome, the lack of sleep is frustrating, the growing pains are uncomfortable, letting go is the most gut-wrenching part of the journey.

In the beginning, they depend on us for love, comfort, and survival. As they begin to reach milestones, we cheer for them and pride filters through us.

We blink and they’re running. And talking. And asserting their independence.

As mothers we must make many delicate decisions about the health and well being of our children. I recently made the life changing decision to quit my job and stay home with mine. And it has been worth every lost penny.

But I have a three year old who has been in daycare his entire life. He’s a social kid and he loves learning. So I also made the decision to enroll him in a two day a week Mother’s Day Out program at a local church.

As I readied his backpack and reread the paperwork the night before he started, I fought back tears. When my husband came to check on me, I surrendered and let the waterworks flow.

“How is it that he’s been in daycare all his life, but I’m still a nervous wreck about sending him to school?” I asked.

“Because you’re Mom.”

“Will I always feel this way?” I wondered aloud.

To which we both answered, “Yes.” Because I’m Mom.

His wins are my wins. His struggles are my struggles. His pain is my pain. Except they are not. I can’t win for him. I can’t claim his struggles. I can’t take away his pain.

And I certainly can’t go to school for him. I had to let go again so that he could experience life.

These four short hours a week are only practice for what’s ahead. I know I’ll get more experience with letting go as he continues to assert his independence. I’ll cheer for him and pride will filter through me. Though I know my heart will be heavy, too.

Bittersweet may be the best way to describe motherhood, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world- even when I have to let go.

Copyright 2012 Leanne Willen

Editor’s Note: I thank guest contributor Leanne Willen for this wonderful reflection. Be sure to visit Leanne at her blog Life Happens When for more inspiration.

“Do you know how irritating it is to have to clean the mirror every time you leave our house?” My brother-in-law asked me once. I shrugged and pretended to be confused, though I couldn’t stop a tiny smirk from forming.

When my niece and nephew were babies, I used to aggravate my brother-in-law by taking their little hands and smudging prints onto the mirror in their foyer. My brother-in-law thought I was trying to annoy him because he loved a clean house more than most. Instead, I just loved the sweet giggles that exploded from my niece and nephew as we played peek-a-boo and touched the mirror with our hands. Those adorable little prints made my heart melt. I am a sucker for pudgy little hands.

When I got married and we all realized that my husband also enjoyed a spotless house, my brother-in-law was the first to use this against me. He would clasp his hands together and tease, “I can’t wait to smudge your mirrors!” Though he has never followed through with his promise, our children’s handprints have found their way to just about every surface of our home anyway.

While it irritates my husband to find those smudges on the full length mirror and the glass door and the trash can, they don’t bother me at all. In fact, I smile when I come across a stray smudge because it reminds me that there are children in my house.  They are learning and exploring the world around them.

These moments are fleeting. I know that in a flash my children will be grown and I will miss everything about this time in my life. The monotonous tasks – sweeping crumbs from the floor, changing yet another diaper, wiping spilled milk from the table, folding yet another basket of laundry.  Those chores will be long gone and with them my babies.

I learned this the hard way from my niece (now 12) and nephew (now 10). They can’t even remember those precious moments we shared at the mirror popping up and down, singing, and leaving our mark. They only laugh because they know how much it must have frustrated their dad. My brother-in-law hasn’t had to clean handprints from that mirror in nearly a decade.

And that breaks my heart.

I am trying to enjoy my kids even if that means making messes. I am trying not to let an untidy house stop us from playing peek-a-boo or singing songs or looking out the window at the UPS truck.

I hope to teach my kids to embrace each day and moment we are given. Maybe they won’t remember the handprints on the mirror, but I hope they remember growing up in a place where exploration was encouraged and laughter echoed the halls.

Before reaching for the Windex, I try to remember to thank God for the gift of my children, for their tiny little hands, for their smudges, and the surfaces where the smudges found homes – all indications that I’ve been abundantly blessed.

I also thank God for my brother–in-law who inadvertently taught me an important life lesson so many years ago, “A messy house is a sign of memories in the making.”

I hope my house is messy for many years to come. It means I have a home filled with children.

Leanne Willen is a Catholic mother and wife, a writer, a stay at home mom of two young children, and a former high school English teacher. She writes about faith, family, and finding happiness. Her blog, Life Happens When, encourages others (and herself) to embrace the moment and enjoy the journey of life.

Copyright 2012 Leanne Willen