Summer Fun with the Cousins

Mary, Mary

Aunt Julie Skiing!

Amazing James

Yesterday James completed his first half iron man, and I feel so proud of him. First of all, he trained for this during the very limited free time he has - but never did I feel like training was getting into the way of family time. He also trained with a happy attitude - modeling that exercise should be fun (even after a hard workout he could express gratitude at the opportunity to have a challenging work out).

But what this event illuminated clearly to me is James' remarkable mental toughness and unique sense of perspective.

Kids, this is what your dad has taught me: the cliche that you can do anything you put your mind to - is true. But it isn't just about putting your mind to it, it is about knowing in your heart, about truly believing that your opportunities in life are limitless. Most people see the bumps, the blockades, the impossibilities of what is in your path, but dad is one of those unique people who trusts himself enough to see the way around, the path through.

And I think part of his secret is love. His love for us fuels him to be successful. As you get older you'll understand that exercise is something dad does for himself, but mostly he does it for you. After his brother and dad died so young, the cardiologist stressed that dad take good care of himself, and so in spite of his grief, he put on his running shoes and started forward.

His love for us is the fuel of his life - personally, professionally, in every aspect of his outlook. Yesterday, while having the hardest and probably most successful race of his life, he stopped to help a stranger change a flat tire on his bike. What does this tell you? For dad its never about the final time, its about the ride. And the best part? This attitude of generosity fueled him to a killer time and a fast race (even with the stop). To put it in perspective; after swimming more than a mile, biking 56 miles, he was still able to run a Bosten Marathon qualifying pace for 13.1 miles to finish. And at the end, I bet even the winner wasn't more grateful than dad.

So, so proud.

Musings about Harry Potter & Parenting

It's a strange thing, but when you are dreading something, and would give anything to slow down time, it has a disobliging habit of speeding up. ~J.K. Rowling, "The Hungarian Horntail," Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, 2000

Last night James, Seamus and I got to attend a special preview of the final Harry Potter movie. As we were going to bed, I said off handedly to James that I thought I'd remember this night for the rest of my life and he said "Really? The movie or just the Harry Potter books?" And a bit of clarity washed over me, I was both looking forward to and dreading this last installment of the movie series.

Nearly 4 years ago, I began reading Harry Potter to Seamus. We had read other chapter books, The Wizard of Oz, Because of Winn Dixie, Black Beauty etc, but something magical happened when we met Harry. I discovered Seamus could sit for hours listening to me read. It provided for long, quiet afternoons while Finn and MJ slept, and we dropped (as if almost into a pensieve) into a compelling, wonderful story about a boy, his friendships and his quest to discover what matters most in this life. Seamus had an uncanny ability to understand the sadness and precariousness of Harry position, he tracked incredibly complicated aspects of the story and we talked often about the trouble Harry was finding himself facing. At this point, the kids were younger, I was getting less sleep, parenting had become challenging and the gift of this quiet, escapism in the afternoon was a special present to me. I think I'm starting to understand that Harry helped me get through the toddler years with 3 kids under 4.

God gives us each of our kids for a reason. Seamus's clear understandings of complex situations at such a young age showed me that my words, my choices, my example mattered already. If Seamus could see the complexity of right and wrong vs difficult and easy in a fantasy world, well, then he certainly would understand and absorb the complexity of the choices we were making in the real world. Seamus was unusual for his age, I understand that now, but I think that I am a better parent because of this unique time together.

And so we finished the series together several times, rereading favorite books as many as 4 times. We slowly saw all the movies (Dobbie was the only movie character to be scary to Seamus - I've always thought that was funny). The few times we saw a movie in the theater, Seamus couldn't help himself but to say loudly when the movie deviated from the book "Well, that's not how it happened!" The movies were incredibly well done, even if they had to leave big portions out or reimagine the story, and Harry Potter movie nights became one of my favorite family times too.

We've been looking forward to seeing this last movie, I think we knew that it would be great. But it happens to coincide with Seamus developing the ability to read the books entirely on his own now. Seemingly overnight, his reading has taken off. He's already onto the third book and he'll now spend hours in the hammock, in his bunkbed or even on the beach reading, reading, reading. He still loves Harry, but he's moved on to new and different stories too. Everything about this is wonderful. Yet I hate to admit I am still a little sad that this precious part of our relationship is evolving.

There is something kindred about the magic in Harry Potter. For us, Seamus, we discovered that words too can be magic, teleporting us to far away places we couldn't expect, transfiguring our sense of identity, illuminating what it is we want the most. When we began this story you were a small boy and I was a woman anxiously trying to figure out how to be a good mother. Last night holding hands in the parking lot after the rush of the movie was over, I could see you for the wonderful person you've become - smart, thoughtful, loyal and kind. Much like another boy you and I so enjoy. It makes me feel tender and proud. I think we've done alright with our magic so far.

Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real? ~J.K. Rowling, "King's Cross," Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, 2007, spoken by the character Albus Dumbledore

Beautiful

I've been thinking quite a bit lately (in light of my ever growing belly) about how we view our bodies. In my life I've been often guilty of being overly critical of my own body - this is something that makes your father crazy - and I want to make sure that I foster in you a sense of the beauty and gratitude for the body that God gave you.

I realize I have a special responsibility to help you see and understand this amazing gift because the heart that God gave to me pumped blood and air into your tiny forming lungs. I am 23 weeks pregnant, crossing the threshold of when this newest baby could live in the outside world, and so this is what I want you to know:

You are beautiful. Your body is God's fingerprint in this world, unique and masterly crafted. God doesn't not make us as carbon copies, but gives us our features, shapes and attributes as a way of marking us as His own. The curve of your nose, the shape of your mouth, the length of your body is a sign of God's affection for your special place in the world.

Your duty is to treat this precious body as the gift that it is - treasure it, protect it, nourish it, use it and be grateful every day for your beating heart, a truly masterful engine.

Babies naturally understand the wonder of the human body - any adult who has ever watched a new baby discover their fingers or their toes - has seen this plainly, and yet something happens to us as we age, we lose sight of the miracle of our bodies. One day we look in the mirror and think, "I wish "X" was more "Y". We begin to use language that devalues our sense of self, language that shows our lack of understanding about how amazing our bodies really are.

It isn't just how we talk about our own bodies, but also how we talk about the bodies around us. Right now you are still young, but certainly not immune to this kind of talk, and so we don't use words like "fat" or "ugly". You already know there are taboo words - words that are hurtful and unproductive. Adults who use those words are often being ignorant or even more likely are feeling inadequate themselves.

Raise people up with your words. Raise yourself up with your words. In the silence of your heart, use beautiful language when you think of yourself. Think about how your dad and I see you - as tremendous, beautiful miracles.

Be grateful for your strong legs, your powerful heart, your amazing brain. Think about how remarkable it is that we balance all our weight on the tiny bones in our feet, think of the hundreds of muscles in your body working together to give you movement, think of your skin regenerating all the time, covering you in ever growing and changing protection.Your brain is a most amazing instrument. Use it. Technically, your brain has the capacity to store everything you experience, see, read or hear. God gave us brains that can do so much more than we even know.

An interesting fact I just read, pound for pound your tongue is your strongest muscle. Makes me think there is a good reason your tongue is so close to your brain - make sure they are working together. Remember that power when you use it to talk about your body, remember that when you talk about other people's bodies.

Take care of your body. Fuel it with good foods. Use it joyfully with exercise. You are not what you weigh. Don't get caught up in a numbers game that you cannot win. "Skinny" is a sort of useless and loaded word. Would you rather be strong or skinny? Think carefully about what you aspire to be. If you treat yourself as a precious gift, nourishing your mind, your soul and your body, you won't need an instrument to measure yourself. You will know that you are strong, solid and perfect in God's eyes.

I have struggled with this myself, but seeing you has helped me recognize the dysfunctional ways the world talks about and treats bodies. God gives us love in many different ways, many different times in our lives, but we are only given this one body. You'll never get anything more precious.

Honor this life you are given. You are beautiful.