Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
House Rules
Forgive quickly.
Be a good listener.
Never yell.
No shoes on the carpet.
Be polite.
Tell the truth.
Never hit.
Love your things.
Pick up after yourself.
Be grateful.
Eat dinner together.
Share.
Wait your turn.
Put our family first.
Be respectful.
Make every day fun.
No slamming doors.
Make your bed each morning.
Say I Love You when you leave.
Keep this place in your heart.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Second Chances
I've told my story before. How until age three, I lived with my grandparents and aunt R. until my parents finished college and got married. How I'd see them on weekends when they could afford time and bus fare for 120-mile trip home to see their daughter. I know given the chance to do things over, my Mama would make the same decision today because it was best for her, best for me, best for us. How one day in June of 1983, I packed up my life and moved away into our first home as a new family.
I've been away from the lil' dude for five days. I miss her like crazy. I miss her laugh and screams, hugs, and snot. I miss her telling me what to do impolitely, her begging to be held, the way she pushes her bangs out of her face. There is so much I miss in just five days. I can't wait to run up the steps to see her tomorrow evening, where, if history repeats itself, she'll be more excited to see the Beagle than her parents. It's OK.
Imagine if what I feel in five days was spread out over the three years my Mom was away from me. Imagine waking up every morning and recounting the days until she could see me again. Imagine if I cried every Sunday night as she boarded the bus back to campus. I imagine that all the time. She made the ultimate sacrifice in the name of love and responsibility. I don't know how to pay her back for that. So I just pay it forward with my own family, hoping I'm doing things as a wife and mother that make my Mama proud of me, her, and us.
My Mama and me; 1983
So weeks like this when Camp Grandma is underway, I can't help but think what my Mom puts into the long days with her granddaughter. How it's maybe like a new chance at what she missed with her daughter. How taking the lil' dude to the beach in her hometown, potty training her, braiding her hair, rubbing her back, and teaching her the names of her flowers must feel all these years later. It must be the sweetest redemption there ever was. I hope for her, it is. I hope she knows how right this world was made when the lil' dude was born because there is no other way to explain it. She is a gift and the final chapter in our family's story.
What a happy ending.
I've been away from the lil' dude for five days. I miss her like crazy. I miss her laugh and screams, hugs, and snot. I miss her telling me what to do impolitely, her begging to be held, the way she pushes her bangs out of her face. There is so much I miss in just five days. I can't wait to run up the steps to see her tomorrow evening, where, if history repeats itself, she'll be more excited to see the Beagle than her parents. It's OK.
Imagine if what I feel in five days was spread out over the three years my Mom was away from me. Imagine waking up every morning and recounting the days until she could see me again. Imagine if I cried every Sunday night as she boarded the bus back to campus. I imagine that all the time. She made the ultimate sacrifice in the name of love and responsibility. I don't know how to pay her back for that. So I just pay it forward with my own family, hoping I'm doing things as a wife and mother that make my Mama proud of me, her, and us.
My Mama and me; 1983So weeks like this when Camp Grandma is underway, I can't help but think what my Mom puts into the long days with her granddaughter. How it's maybe like a new chance at what she missed with her daughter. How taking the lil' dude to the beach in her hometown, potty training her, braiding her hair, rubbing her back, and teaching her the names of her flowers must feel all these years later. It must be the sweetest redemption there ever was. I hope for her, it is. I hope she knows how right this world was made when the lil' dude was born because there is no other way to explain it. She is a gift and the final chapter in our family's story.
What a happy ending.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Quiet
The lil' dude is off at Camp Grandma this week. So, quiet is the word of the week. I'll remember from now on telling a toddler about an impending bout of fun should not be done more than 30 minutes in advance of said event. A solid week of waking the lil' dude up resulted in her asking if she could go to Papa's house TO-DAY and screwing her tiny face into a pout when I told her no, not yet. Life in 30-minute increments = toddlerspeak.
I'll also be reminded packing for a two year old isn't any easier than it was when she was six months old as I mistakenly thought. I packed 10 outfits, 25 pairs of Princess undies, six pairs of pj's, and three pairs of shoes. Done. I remember the baby food, bottled water, Pack 'n' Play, stroller, infant seat, bumbo, bouncy seat, playmat, bathtub, pacifiers ... etc. that first summer at Camp Grandma. Oh the crap! This summer? One bag! Until I asked her (my mistake: never ask) what she needed to take with. Her answer made me flash-forward to her at 13 and ... wow, is she her Mama's daughter.
Ummm ... I need my NaNa with, Monkey, Glo-Worm ... my puppies and leashes ... Toy Story Band-Aids ... Toy Story guys ... bags for my Buzz and Woody ... Ummm ...
At her miniature command, I shoved everything into the trunk and told my Dad, good luck! See you Friday! and away the three of them went to untold stories and adventures, off into the sunset of Sunday night.
Oh, the quiet.
And lack of her stuffed community of pals!
I'll also be reminded packing for a two year old isn't any easier than it was when she was six months old as I mistakenly thought. I packed 10 outfits, 25 pairs of Princess undies, six pairs of pj's, and three pairs of shoes. Done. I remember the baby food, bottled water, Pack 'n' Play, stroller, infant seat, bumbo, bouncy seat, playmat, bathtub, pacifiers ... etc. that first summer at Camp Grandma. Oh the crap! This summer? One bag! Until I asked her (my mistake: never ask) what she needed to take with. Her answer made me flash-forward to her at 13 and ... wow, is she her Mama's daughter.
Ummm ... I need my NaNa with, Monkey, Glo-Worm ... my puppies and leashes ... Toy Story Band-Aids ... Toy Story guys ... bags for my Buzz and Woody ... Ummm ...
At her miniature command, I shoved everything into the trunk and told my Dad, good luck! See you Friday! and away the three of them went to untold stories and adventures, off into the sunset of Sunday night.
Oh, the quiet.
And lack of her stuffed community of pals!
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Dad
Happy Father's Day!
A special shout-out to the two men in our lives we first learned about parenthood from.
Dad: thanks for being calm, consistent, and respectful since I was as old as I can remember. I've learned so much from you.
To the Dad's Dad: thank you for raising your son to be the husband and father he is today. The lil' dude and I are so blessed to have him in our lives.
It's because of you two we wanted to be where we are today.
We love you.
A special shout-out to the two men in our lives we first learned about parenthood from.
Dad: thanks for being calm, consistent, and respectful since I was as old as I can remember. I've learned so much from you.
To the Dad's Dad: thank you for raising your son to be the husband and father he is today. The lil' dude and I are so blessed to have him in our lives.
It's because of you two we wanted to be where we are today.
We love you.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
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