You're Gonna Miss This

Okay, *you* probably won't miss this post, since you are here now. But what I'm referring to is actually a song. You may be shocked to learn that this mom is a serious music lover.

Actually if you've read any previous posts, you already know this. But I'm not just someone who enjoys music, I really listen to it. I know all the words. And, my apologies to those within earshot, I cannot resist singing along. I firmly believe that there is a perfect song for every situation. So music is a big part of my life.

And those songs that seem to speak to me the most aren't the romantic ballads that boast of life long love (though those are great). As is usual with me, it's all about the kids. If a song is about kids or if I can apply it that way, it gets me. I'm a total sucker. And since I can cry at the drop of a hat, I cannot duck the label of sentimental sap.

Ah but friends, it's the only way to be!

While I do live in the moment, I am also well aware of how fast time passes. Whenever I look at Miss B, I remember the days when her hair fell in perfect curls around her sweetly chubby, baby face. Now she is 7! I don't know how it happened, and though I have dragged my feet as much as possible, time keeps moving forward.

And while Sister Goldenhair in her infinite toddler wisdom swears she is a baby, my heart knows the truth. She is big girl now (though I hope she will always insist, "No, I the baby!"). SG will be 3 this summer. How can this be?


And since I am a good mom, I will forever be a contradiction. I will strive to raise strong women who grow to be wise, loving, and gentle in spirit. But I will remember and miss the times when they weren't all those things yet. Who wouldn't miss being the most important person in someone's life? And yet that what parents give up when they do their job. I know I will always be important to them, but one day they will marry and start their own families.

And while I am well aware of all that I'll miss, there are times when I wish they weren't quite so good at being kids. When they bicker, whine, and pout I find that I wish they were past the stage du jour (I blame sleep deprivation for actually believing that this will improve before they pass the teenage years). But all too soon I remember just what that means. No chubby hands holding my cheeks for the perfect kiss. No one begging me to do that silly dance one more time. No one sitting on my lap. No one wanting me to play games with them or read Llama, Llama Red Pajamas and Goodnight Moon to them one more time. Someday my family room won't be devoted to a children's play space. How terrible!

And someday, my home won't be their home anymore. Yikes!

And so I'll share another song with you: You're Gonna Miss This. You will. Sure, whenever I'm cleaning up after the latest bout of the Mysterious Barfing Flu, I say I won't miss it. But even then, I will.

And if you have kids, you know what I mean. So take a minute to enjoy Trace Adkins ode to living in the moment. And remember to remember, 'cause you *will* miss this.

Thriving on Chaos

As a graduate student in somewhat stressful one-year MS program, one of my professors required students to purchase a book by Tom Peters titled Thriving on Chaos. The overall idea is that successful people are able to adjust to the craziness around them.

This book could easily have been written by a mom. No matter how crazy it may be at work, it never compares to the stuff that gets thrown at me at home. I could write my own book: Thriving on Chaos and How To Remove the Subsequent Stains. It would be an emotional tour de force; one mom's attempt to make it through one week without anyone getting sick, injured or insulted.

But most moms know that this actually impossible.

You may recall my last post was about the scourge that is head lice. Since that post my life has been chaotic (but thankfully not in a Britney Spears sort of way). Miss B was soon louse free, but immediately thereafter was afflicted with Fifth Disease. Luckily, she seems to have had a minor case. But of course she was covered with the lacey rash that accompanied her bouts of nausea, which required some strategic fashion choices.

Sister Goldenhair escaped this ailment (as did everyone else in the family), but we had to watch out for a couple weeks to be certain. But SG did have another bout with the Mystery Fever (insert ominous music here). Nothing specific was diagnosed, and she soon recovered. I even spent a day hovering near the brink of death. Okay, so maybe I'm exaggerating just a tad. But I was an utterly miserable specimen for 24 hours.

We've had the school carnival, a mini heatwave, a cold snap, and a consuming Craftster swap. All since I last blogged. And of course there has been the day to day, average chaos that consumes us all. I often thought about posting, but would decide that it would take too long to tell it all. But finally I got enough distance that I didn't feel compelled to share all infinite minutiae of each event (lucky you!).

And so I close this chaotic entry with some of the best news I've heard in a long while (and no it's not that my criminal background check came out clean, meaning I'm a go for the 1st grade field trip to the zoo): My maternal grandmother (my sole remaining grandparent) is coming out for a visit at the end of the month! She has always been one of my very favorite people. And I am thrilled for every opportunity I have to spend with her. I'm glad she'll get to see my girls too. What can I say? I am my grandma's girl.

The two most frightening words in my world: HEAD LICE

Did your skin just crawl? Mine sure did.

Nearly one year ago, Miss B came home from school with an uninvited guest. I happened to take her to work with me as she was feeling a bit puny. We walked through the hallways near my office to get some water when I saw something in her hair. I thought it was just a piece of fuzz.

An average day went from average to one of the worst in about 3 seconds. As I tried to move the fuzz, it moved itself. I nearly screamed. My daughter's head was crawling with bugs. How had she not gone crazy? I ask this question because just a few days later, I found a louse on my head. On my head. On. MY. Head. My first reaction to this was to call my mommy and cry.

And I still haven't gotten over it. Every itch of my head triggers flashbacks to the days of RID and lice combs. If it's possible for someone to get Post Traumatic Stress Disorder from head lice, then I know that I have that. I can be very strong in the face of danger and tragedy, but I cannot in any way not lose my mind when there are tiny little bugs crawling on my head! And my husband is afflicted with male pattern blindness. Just as he cannot see dosage information on medicine labels, notes asking him to do something before I get home, or numerous other things in plain sight, Woody could not seem to see any of the nits or eggs in my hair. This meant that I spent at least an hour every night combing my hair with one of those awful little red combs with the wire teeth.

Finally one night I didn't get anything in the comb. Then it was two nights. After about 2 weeks, I decided they were really gone.

But now they are back. Some how I made it through my entire education without getting lice. And my daughter not only gets it and gives it to me, she gets it again. I'm already starting to crack. I haven't found any on me or Sister Goldenhair (though I cannot be certain since I was checking her hair with a flashlight as she slept). I just hope that all will be well with everyone else.

And so I will take my heebie jeebies and go to bed. Any bets on what I'll dream about tonight?

A letter to my teenage self

There's a song currently in play on country stations (I listen to a lot of different types of music, so please no harassing comments *g*). It's by Brad Paisley and it's called "Letter to Me." It's all about him wanting to writer a letter to himself at age 17. It's full of advice and comforting words.

This has got me to thinking. What would I say to myself as a teenager? What would I change? What did I worry about back then, that I shouldn't have? And so I present a letter to a teen aged indywriter...

Dear indy,

I know high school is a strange time in a girl's life. You are with your friends all day, but you're also with people who drive you crazy. You want to make your own decisions, but you still have to abide by your parents' rules. You care a lot about what's going on in your little world, but you know there is a bigger world waiting for you.

First of all, don't let that cocky guy in history class get to you. He won't be successful at that prestigious school he got into. They will finally do something about his propensity for cheating. And really, you shouldn't worry about him anyway.

Enjoy your time in music classes. You haven't found time since then to own or practice a saxophone. You will miss it.

You really might want to reconsider your intended major. While you enjoy the topic, you will never get a job in your field.

Tell your mom thanks. She deserves it for putting up with you and your moods (yes, you do have them). You guys will be friends. And when you and your dad butt heads (again), know that one day you will get along and even talk on the phone. He will mellow when you move out of the house, and he will love your kids.

That's right, you will have two beautiful children. I'm not gonna give all the surprises away, but you should know that motherhood is more than you ever dreamed possible. It's not all glamorous and guaranteed love, but it will change you in every possible way. And those changes are for the better (except for what happens to your stomach, but the trade off is worth it).

But you should know that you won't have those kids with who you think you will. You will dump your current guy when you're in college. You will be thankful for the paths you chose not to take and will wish you did it long ago. You will meet someone. He won't be a doctor or a lawyer, but he will be a good man and a good dad. Even better is that you love his parents. His mom will become a very good friend to you.

Your brother will always be a dork, but you will get along well (and not just 'cause he's your brother).

You will keep in touch with your best friend. You will still hang out, and you will be happy to see that the guy she marries loves her very much.

You know that you grumble a bit about spending every spring break in WV with your grandparents and family, but you secretly love every minute of it. But don't grumble. Don't joke about not going to the beach. Let your grandparents know how much you adore them.

Sit with Grandpa and listen to his music with him. You will learn to love it someday, but he would be trilled to share it with you. And play gin rummy with him until he's tired of it. I know you get bored with it after several hands, but you can't imagine how much you will wish you could still play cards with him. You should know that he will be gone too soon. You will hurt for a long time and you will miss him forever.

And your great aunts? They will be gone sooner than you think too. Enjoy "the old ladies" whenever you get the chance. They always enjoy you and your little ones.

Just know that the things you worry about now, will not be the same things you worry about in the future. You will be blessed in all the ways that really matter.

So take a deep breath and relax. Enjoy your life (and dump that guy you think is so great).

Love,

indy

In the meantime: Life

So it's been awhile, my friends. I have been neglecting my little piece of cyberspace here. It seems that I have been quite busy with the business of life. I've been playing with my girls, sewing some very belated Christmas gifts, and remodeling my bathroom (and anyone who has remodeled a bathroom or kitchen knows that the whole house becomes involved). The girls have been sick, as have I.

But something else has kept me away. A part of life as vital to our existence as birth itself: death. I lost my beautiful, sweet-spirited grandmother. Grandma had been in a nursing home for the last several years. She was far away from me, and after my aunt died two years ago and my maternal grandmother moved away from the area, there was no place to stay except a hotel. So I hadn't seen much of her since Sister Goldenhair was born. And while this saddened me, I was also ashamed. I feel like I should have done more to get to her, but the expense, distance, and childcare arrangements made it impossible to coordinate.

I can remember talking to her on the phone and asking her how she was feeling. She would usually mention some ailment, but this was always followed by, "But I've got to grin and bear it, or die and leave it." I guess it was finally time for her to leave her suffering behind. She suffered a couple of strokes and then passed away.

I was charged, shortly before her death, with making a photo board to display for her funeral. I sorted through photos and was please to find my favorite pictures of Grandma. There are a series of four pictures taken when we went on a family vacation to Florida. I was in between first and second grade and Grandma had never been in the ocean. These pictures depict my father (usually referred to here as Papaw) and my other grandmother alongside my Grandma. They got her to kneel down in the water, and she got nailed by a small wave. I remember us all laughing and Grandma soaked in salt water and tears of mirth.

I found pictures of her as a sister, as a mother, as a wife, and as a grandmother. But I love most the ones of her alone. They seem to show so much more of who I remember. There is a picture of her with her white wig in her hand, her head covered with short, fluffy, white hair after her chemo was all over. And she was laughing. She seemed to always be in on some joke or another. Another picture showed her standing in front of a green house with her hands on her hips. She is smiling, but she looks like she was ready to take care of business. I didn't recognize the house, so I asked my mom. It turns out that it was a house that my grandma used to clean. My dad grew up working, and he learned it from his mother.

But I remember grandma from her later years. She lived off of social security in a small home. And she would laugh. I remember the way her eyes would crinkle as she chuckled at one thing or another. And she always made oatmeal cake when her kids came to visit. And she always had cookies for me (before I could say "Grandma," I called her "Cookies"). And fried apples, she always cooked me fried apples with dinner. And she wouldn't let my dad force me to eat food I didn't like. Grandma was like an angel to me.

As many young kids do, I went through a phase where I didn't want to visit my grandparents. I loved them, but it was a six hour trip. And if we stayed with Grandma, I usually had to sleep in her bed. But every year for spring break we made the trip and spent the week with my grandparents. It might have been tedious for a couple of years, but I am so glad that I spent that time with my family. And it has had a deep impact on me as a parent. Before I married Woody I made it clear that I would not be moving far from our families. I wanted our kids to be able to see their grandparents as often as possible. And they usually see them about once a week or more. I always made due with seeing mine about twice a year.

And so while I haven't been sharing my thoughts here, I have speant a lot of time thinking lately. While I'm glad that Grandma isn't suffering anymore, it's never a good time to lose someone you love. And it doesn't make it any easier to see your parents grieving over their loss. The hardest part of all of this has to be watching my dad cry for his mother. The next hardest part is trying to grieve as I need to but without upsetting the girls. Miss B is old enough to understand the abstract idea that her great-grandmother is dead. But because they were never able to be very close, it still isn't an event that deeply affects her. Luckily, I'm more to the point of remembering happy times and feel less need to cry.

And so I will leave you with my memories of a great lady. Her laugh, her spirit, and her love of the Lord. Fried apples,biscuits, cookies, Pizza Hut, cream horns, and ice cream sandwiches. She beat cancer twice, survived a heart attack, and buried a daughter. I remember her smile when she would see us at her front door. And best of all, I remember that she was always proud of me and took joy in my accomplishments (including my girls).

That wasn't in the brochure...

Motherhood is a blessing. I cannot imagine my life without my beautiful and talented girls by my side. I wouldn't change a hair on their heads.

Motherhood is just as wonderful as "they" say it is... except when it isn't.

While all those things I said were true, it doesn't mean that I haven't had little fantasies involving running away from home, entering the Witness Protection Program, or having Calgon take me away. It seems sometimes that motherhood is like a sorority during pledge week. To the uninitiated it all seems so perfect and supportive. You see all the members of Tri Gamma Mamma with their sleek hairdos and well-dressed tots. You want to be a part of this group.

But just like other misguided sororities, hazing runs rampant. And once you join, there's no way out. Let's face it, motherhood is not for the faint of heart. Yes, as a mother you will experience great love and emotional bonding with your child, but you will also experience moments of heart-stopping fear. Your body can produce and nourish a person, but it will never be the same again.

And so, for your reading pleasure, I give you a list of things I never thought I'd say:

I hope someday you have a kid just like you. -- Not my proudest moment and not because I used "the curse" on my kid, but because I'd hoped to hold onto it until she was in her rebellious teen years. What can I say? Sleep deprivation does bad things to me.

Thank God! I'm so happy I ran over the tricycle! -- No, I haven't resorted to running over toys that have fallen from favor. This one involves that fear I mentioned earlier. I was just moving my car back a few feet in the driveway. I had seen that Miss B (who was close to 3 at the time) was safely away from the driveway, but when you feel something under your wheel and hear a child's screams and cries... I lost ten years off my life that day. But luckily, the only other casualty was the trike (at whose demise my daughter screamed and cried).

Fine, do it. Knock yourself out. -- That's right. I channeled my mother. This was her preferred phrase of exasperation. Think of it as shorthand for: "Listen, dear child, you are annoying me with your persistent harping. I am giving in because my ears are about to bleed, and I don't think that allowing you to do this will result in bodily harm (for either of us)." I swore I'd never say it, but it did take much longer to come out than "the curse."

At least I learned how to get chocolate-milk-based-barf out of cashmere. -- I really think that this one is self-explanatory.

And yes, despite the fact that I have never once vacuumed while wearing pearls and high heels, this motherhood thing does live up to the hype. And when you think about the miracle that are children, it makes the sleep-depriving, barf-covered, life-span-reducing, please-will-someone-end-this-nagging moments worth every minute, even if I do resort to mentally planning my escape to Zihuatanejo.

When an Angel leaves this earth

I don't know what it is, but lately it seems that I am reading one heartbreaking story after another. The characters are a little different from tale to tale, but the story always ends in one of two ways: a child is clinging to life or a child has died a horrible death. I am so tired of hearing about children being hurt by the very people who are meant to protect them.

I think there are few things worse than inflicting pain on a helpless person or animal. And yet the punishment rarely seems to fit the crime. You often find harsher sentences passed down when someone kills a stranger, rather than their own child. And how hard is it to read about newborns being thrown away or killed by a mother, knowing the number of childless couples desperate to adopt a baby? I always wonder what must happen within a murderer's brain. How does someone go from being an average Joe to rationalizing the murder of their own offspring?

I have often wondered if the so called "safe haven" laws should be extended. Why not make it easier for overwhelmed parents to get help? I can see that a lot of children might be abandoned by their parents, but often these parents have virtually abandoned their children long ago. They are not supportive emotionally and are often barely supportive financially. But at least the kids are alive. It is far from ideal, but something needs to happen to help these children before they become another headline.

Every parent has had moments when they are less than proud of themselves. Their buttons have been pushed, their sanity is at the brink, and they want to scream/cry/get away from their offspring. So what makes some parents able to keep going, and what makes others cross the line? How do I get to the point that I tell myself it is okay to hit/whip/scald/burn/beat /strangle/torture my child? And how do I have the nerve to offer any defense at my trial for those actions? How do I dare argue that I am being subjected to cruel and unusual punishment when I offered no such concessions to my own flesh and blood?

How do I find an answer to the questions that plague me whenever I hear that another child has suffered at the hand of a caretaker or parent? There aren't any easy answers. There aren't any easy solutions. But hopefully society can make it a priority to find the solution. It's time to speak for those who can't speak for themselves and who don't have any political or financial power.

I know this post has been a departure for this blog. I try to keep the focus on my family, but I feel that these children need someone to talk and worry about them too. And I do. In my heart, they are all my children. I miss them. I mourn them. And now I want to help them, even if it's just by getting other people to think about them the same way. I don't want to lose another angel. Heaven knows that we need more angels here on earth. So speak out for those with no voice, be a friend to the friendless, and protect all the children in your life.