Growing Up

Before I had kids, I knew it all. In all of my worldly experiences of observing other moms, I knew exactly what I would do (differently AND better of course) when it was my turn. Wow, is motherhood a crash course in humility. I've discovered that it's not nearly as easy as it looks and too often, there is no "right" way. And I soon learned the #1 rule: Don't ever judge another mother. Today, though, I have to say I'm breaking the rule.

I've just about had it with some parents on Facebook mourning the fact that their children are going to college. I've read that they're sick to their stomachs, the "sad" day they've dreaded is finally here, they can't bear to lose their babies. I don't get it. To be fair, I can't possibly relate to what they're going through. My kids are three and six and it's a "long" twelve years before we take Sassy to school (somehow we're a third of the way there. . . ) But on the flip side, I've never been one to mourn my girls growing up. When I was 14, I lost a brother at the age of 9 months (yes, my parents have done the unthinkable twice.) For the first year of Sassy's life, I was a nervous wreck. I can remember reaching her first birthday which isn't a guarantee at all, but it felt like I could breathe. Like she was "ok." We made it. A few years ago, I had to watch my brother and his wife bury their daughter at almost a month old. I get SO angry at people who mourn their children growing up when I know my family would give anything to see M and N do just that. Don't we want our kids to go to school, start driving, go to prom, leave for college? I don't understand why parents get so sad to see their kids become the people we want them to be.

My good friend K recently sent me this book because she said it made her think of me. I was SO touched. I LOVE it. The author talks about all of the things she would do if she could keep her child little, but then realizes all of the wonderful things she would miss if they didn't grow up. The last page says it all: "If I could keep you little, I'd keep you close to me. But then I'd miss you growing into who you're meant to be!"

I'm sure it is hard to face the next chapter of life when you've spent the last eighteen years together. And in twelve years I may be eating these words as I have a breakdown on the ride home (please let me wait until the ride home. . .) But I hope and pray that I maintain the same attitude I've had so far.

Last weekend, R and I had the honor of being my new niece's godparents. It was such a beautiful ceremony. The priest reminded us that with baptism, our children aren't ours--but God's. He then asked how many of us celebrate our baptismal dates. Crickets chirping. . . I had never thought about the significance of my baptismal date. He pointed out that it's more important than our day of birth because it's our day of RE-birth. I love the idea of celebrating this day--as E's godmother, I want to do something for her every year on August 18. It's the perfect day to acknowledge her without taking away from something her parents might want to do for her birthday or Christmas. Monsignor also chuckled when the holy water was poured over E's head and she let out a piercing cry--he shared that his grandmother used to say that was the devil coming out. And I kid you not, my lovely husband leaned over and whispered, "Did Stinkus cry?" HA! I love that guy.

It was such a beautiful day to remember that these little miracles are God's--we're just here to raise them, guide them, and show them His way. And when they turn eighteen, to let them GO. And rejoice that He gave us eighteen years with them. I hope that in twelve years, I'm posting on Facebook that it's time to celebrate. Time to celebrate my beautiful daughter leaving home to pursue her dreams and future. Time to celebrate that again while it's no guarantee, she made it. And time to celebrate that in just three more years, the house will be ours. ALL ours. :)

Our Summer-y Summary: Part 2

The last week of July we met up with Ryan's best friend from high school and his family who were nearby on vacation (love living near a trip destination!)  We had dinner and watched the light/fountain show and then let the kids go swimming at their condo.  It was great to see them.  Since meeting R, I have several special memories of B and H.  I remember holding their firstborn in 2000 and B was giving R a hard time about when he was going to bite the bullet.  Little did we know he was planning to propose the very next month!  :)  H was also one of the "lucky" ladies at our wedding who got smacked on the backside by my brother.  "Mrs. S, you are one hottie-patottie!"  HA! I can still hear him say that.  It was nice to catch up--I'm just sad that it doesn't happen more often.

That next weekend we headed to our home state for a family reunion.  My grandmother was one of eight and every two years, we join my mom's aunts, uncles, cousins, and cousins' kids for a weekend.  It's fun to see everyone but it's strange how much the family has changed.  The only ones left from my grandma's generation are her brother and sister, who are 94 and 96 (Grandma was in her 90s when she passed away--hope I get those genes!) And there are so many little ones!  One day, my siblings and I decided to take our families to the local water park.  It was a killer deal.  Our family of four got in for $18.  Total.  The girls had a blast and I'm sure there were some park goers who will never be the same after seeing some of us adults conquer the water slides.  I really didn't wear a thong although it may have appeared that way after going down. . .   ha!

We also had a joint birthday party since five of the seven grandkids have summer birthdays. It was a fun weekend. The reunion has become so much more to me since becoming a parent. I can remember having SUCH a hard time when I was younger trying to figure out who everyone was. It was hard to keep Mom's cousins straight and remember which cousins were from which aunt and uncle. Now it's tough for MY kids to wrap their heads around who MY cousins, aunts and uncles are. It's made it even more important to remember my grandma's generation when I realize that in a few more, it's MINE that may be forgotten.

The next weekend, we met up with another of R's high school friends and his family for a little vacation.  R has known A since they were born and it's been great to keep in touch with their brood.  Four kiddos 6 and under!  We met up in the city where R and I lived when we were first married, which felt a little weird. We're now tourists though!  :)  We stayed at a hotel with a mini-water park inside (one more water slide that altered the look of my suit. . . and NOT for the better!) and then took the kids to a major league baseball game and a new aquarium in town.  Sassy was totally into all the little "challenge questions" in the aquarium.  Reading has opened a whole new world to her!  It was fun to see the Ws--and our kids hit it off which is always fun to see.  Again, I wish we could see them more often!            

The girls also squeezed in about a week with each set of grandparents and they had a blast. We're blessed to have these four special people in our lives! I'm so grateful for the memories they're making together.

Needless to say, we had a busy summer. I was almost ready for school to start because it seemed like we needed a vacation from our vacation! Although now that I'm getting up every morning at 5:30, supervising homework, and trying to find time at night for everything that I used to spend all day doing, I'm missing my lounge chair at the lake. Lucky for me, another summer will be here before I know it!

We're OK

In 2008, my family lost my brother.  He was 28.  I know that it sounds cliche, but his death has left a huge void in our family.  I remember getting together for holidays after his death and scanning the room to do a mental head count:  1, 2, 3, 4, etc.  I was always shocked when everyone was there. Except for Matt.  It felt like half of us were missing.  It was just too quiet, too calm.

I know that we all take things for granted.  There's a reason for the saying: "Hindsight's 20/20."  We see things clearer as time goes by, and it's only in retrospect that we realize what we once had.  One of my biggest regrets in life is not being the sister I should have been to Matt.  I was the proverbial oldest sister.  The "mother hen" constantly nagging him to be appropriate and then being absolutely mortified when inevitably, he wasn't.  I wish I could go back and enjoy the moments he gave us.  Like high school graduation.  It wasn't enough for Matt to cross the stage and receive his diploma.  He had to pick the principal up (Matt was a BIG guy) and bounce him in a huge bear hug.  He celebrated my wedding by making the rounds at my reception and slapping all my friends on the rear.  For our other brother's college graduation, he sported the tiniest pair of Daisy Dukes EVER (Did I mention he was a big guy?) and a cowboy hat made out of Coor Light boxes.  He was truly the life of the party. 

In 2009, thirty years after Matt was born, my family gained Stinkus.  I've often said that it's like having a little piece of Matt here.  She's impulsive, funny, ornery, and uninhibited.  She loves to be the class clown, the center of attention, the life of the party.  Matt's favorite joke when he was little:  "What time is it when an elephant sits on a fence?"  I can't even tell you how many times I heard that joke.  Stinkus likes to tell one about a mailman hitting a cat.  Ask her.  She'll tell you.  :)  She's assumed her role as the one who makes us laugh and if anyone is upset, she sticks her little fingers in the corners of her mouth and sticks out her tongue to make her "silly face."  She doesn't understand if it doesn't work--"But I make you happy!"  I hate that she's already holding herself responsible for our happiness but I have to say that 99% of the time, she's successful.  :) 

This summer we've noticed a few new "Stinkus-isms."  One:  "I not gonna care."  Usually accompanied by a slight shrug of the shoulders.

"Stinkus, your shoes are on the wrong feet."
Shrug.  "I not gonna care."
"Stinkus, you have ketchup all over your face."
Shrug.  "I not gonna care."
"Stinkus, look up.  You still have shampoo in your hair."
Shrug.  "I not gonna care." 

You get the picture.  I'm both infuriated at her easy-come-easy-go attitude and jealous that I can't be more like her.  And once again, I see a little bit of my brother who was taken way too soon.

This past weekend, we traveled to a family reunion where tensions can sometimes run high and tempers can flare.  We were late.  In my mind I wanted to be at our day's destination hours before.  So I'm rushing around, growling and irritated, headed out the door with Stinkus on my hip.  And I hear her other recent Stinkus-ism: "It gonna be o-tay, Mom."  And I literally stopped in my tracks.  She's been saying this for a while now.  And there's nothing funnier than hearing a three year old remind me in the car:  "Take a deep bweff, Mom.  Just take a deep bweff.  It gonna be ooooo-tay."  But this particular day. . . maybe because I was with family, maybe because I again noticed the void in our bunch. . . . At that moment, I realized it was something Matt said all the time:  "It'll be O.K."  My dad even wanted it on his tombstone-- almost as if Matt is reassuring us from heaven.  I immediately teared up and marveled at how much this little person is like him.  I know that she'll never replace Matt--there's only one person who can pull off the Daisy Duke look--but it sure is nice having a little bit of his spirit here.  Maybe God is giving me another chance to cherish all those things that I used to chastise.  Maybe He realized that I needed someone in my life to tell me to take deep bweffs.  Maybe He's showing me that it's no big deal if you sport a little ketchup and extra shampoo.  It'll be O.K.