My oldest daughter is like me. We speak the same love language. She loves words of affirmation and gifts. We can understand each other.
My youngest is like my husband. They speak the same love language of affection. They thrive on hugs, kisses and holding hands. They understand each other.
And here’s where we collide. My oldest and I are always hard at work on notes for the other two. The other two would rather just have huge kisses planted on their cheeks or be embraced by a huge hug. Those two hug us and we then await some great words of affirmation…and there aren’t any.
It can be quite funny. Just the other day, as my husband prepared to leave for a rather lengthy trip, I was feverishly writing one card after another to hide in his luggage. My oldest joined in drawing pictures and asking me and her sister to sign them as well. The youngest was running around hugging her Dad and me the whole time. My husband held my hand on the way to the airport and offered a huge hug and a kiss as he left.
The very next day, my oldest was already preparing some welcome home signs for his return! I finally came up with an idea to have a “Daddy” box that she could fill with notes and drawings as a gift for him when he returned. She began churning out one picture and note after another-and I knew why.
My youngest, now three, spent the day in my lap, being held and holding my hand. There were lots of hugs and kisses exchanged that day between her and me. We were inseparable-and she made sure of that. She was even more affectionate than usual – and I knew why.
During bedtime that evening, my oldest was stumbling as she tried to tell me something. It took her several tries, but out it finally came.
She said, “Mom, she hugs and kisses you too much. She loves you too much.”
I hugged her and assured her that I loved them both the same. As I was leaving, she handed me a special note-just for me…and asked for another hug.
Upon tucking in the little one, she whispered, “Fun day. Good job today, Mom.” Then, those two little hands wrapped around my neck and pulled me in for a heartfelt hug and kiss.
I knew we all missed their Daddy. Our worlds had collided and it sure felt good.
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Monday, March 10, 2008
Lunch and the Left-Overs
You know the story. Your child leaves his or her lunch box in the back seat of your car or worse-the garage. You receive this urgent message via cell phone in the middle of your dental visit. The message is that your child is crying hysterically because you forgot their lunch.
I am horrified. I call. The school personnel now thinks that in addition to forgetting coats, picture money, baked goods on a deadline---that I forgot food to nourish my child. I feel the need to explain that it really was in the back of my car or somewhere that she left it–they have heard that before I am sure. Please tell her I am on my way–never mind my half cleaned teeth and the planned vet visit.
I look back and see it is not in the back seat and being far from home-begin considering my options. I laugh as I think of my dear friend that recently experienced the same dilemma. Upon realizing the absence of a lunch box for her daughter, she returned to the parking lot determined. She plundered through her car and came up with several mini-cans and bags of miscellaneous food items. Arms loaded and proud, she returned inside quickly only to be met by a teacher that gratefully explained that the food drive was over last week! She laughed and her daughter had something or some things for lunch.
For fun, I begin going through my own car. Let’s see, I find a heap of old french fries lurking beneath the mats and under the seats. There’s the nicely melted, still in the wrapper candy chocolate heart from the Valentine’s party. Hmmm, there are a couple of cheeseburger tidbits in the wrappers in the trash. I find one item that I deemed miscellaneous because it skeletal remains left few cues as to what it once was! There’s the half eaten bag of Christmas cookies wedged behind the booster. I locate one sippy that I authorized as clear and the other as a biohazard due to its aromatic contents! Much to my dismay, I couldn’t pull it off!
Chick-fi-la here I come…
I flash back to my pre-child days with a clean car interior, the latest CDs all neatly tucked in a case, a skilled system for organizing all items, hanging file folders and a spare bag with all my essential emergency items. It was so clean and it was so nice. A nice little tidy life it was…
As I am driving, I glance around to see scattered art work, pieces of important paper scattered about, several homeless Happy Meal toys, paper with letters drawn in the handwriting of a three and five year old. There is a tote bag overflowing with articles and items to be read. Located in the rear view, another emergency bag stuffed with shirts and.shorts for them-and me…just in case. Kid’s CDs are scattered and loose on the passenger seat.
Water bottles, half full, are everywhere. There are hair accessories on the floor board. The windows are dirtied from little fingers chasing rain drops and drawing smiley faces. There’s my to-do list from last week with one item checked off. Receipts and old shopping lists are stuffed in the drink holders. Jackets of every sort are everywhere. There is a bottle of aspirin and some hand sanitizer rolling about.
In the back, there is a park blanket, sand toys, a large canvas cooler and a first aid kit-all just in case. There’s the one winged kite and an umbrella that droops. The activity bag hovers in the corner for those long waits at the doctor’s office. There are sand remnants from the last park visit. And of course, there is the mini toilet and toilet paper for those potty training emergencies. Yes, it is a “we have been everywhere” and “we are prepared for anything mess”. And a nice little messy life it is…we are busy and they are loved.
As Moms, we feel judged by the neatness of our homes, our clothes and our cars. In this Martha world, appearances and order seem to mean everything. But does it? When I look at all the stuff in my car, it reminds me this is what matters the most-going and growing with my daughters. The mess isn’t pretty, but it sure is fun.
And each weekend as we load the girls up for another family adventure, my adorable husband will continue to sigh as he sifts through the piles of “car-bage”. He doesn’t and never will understand the nature of this mess. And that’s ok…just don’t tell him that when I take his brand new truck for my solo outings, that I savor my dripping bean burrito while listening to Sirius radio and leave a few wrappers and notes behind-just for him!
I am horrified. I call. The school personnel now thinks that in addition to forgetting coats, picture money, baked goods on a deadline---that I forgot food to nourish my child. I feel the need to explain that it really was in the back of my car or somewhere that she left it–they have heard that before I am sure. Please tell her I am on my way–never mind my half cleaned teeth and the planned vet visit.
I look back and see it is not in the back seat and being far from home-begin considering my options. I laugh as I think of my dear friend that recently experienced the same dilemma. Upon realizing the absence of a lunch box for her daughter, she returned to the parking lot determined. She plundered through her car and came up with several mini-cans and bags of miscellaneous food items. Arms loaded and proud, she returned inside quickly only to be met by a teacher that gratefully explained that the food drive was over last week! She laughed and her daughter had something or some things for lunch.
For fun, I begin going through my own car. Let’s see, I find a heap of old french fries lurking beneath the mats and under the seats. There’s the nicely melted, still in the wrapper candy chocolate heart from the Valentine’s party. Hmmm, there are a couple of cheeseburger tidbits in the wrappers in the trash. I find one item that I deemed miscellaneous because it skeletal remains left few cues as to what it once was! There’s the half eaten bag of Christmas cookies wedged behind the booster. I locate one sippy that I authorized as clear and the other as a biohazard due to its aromatic contents! Much to my dismay, I couldn’t pull it off!
Chick-fi-la here I come…
I flash back to my pre-child days with a clean car interior, the latest CDs all neatly tucked in a case, a skilled system for organizing all items, hanging file folders and a spare bag with all my essential emergency items. It was so clean and it was so nice. A nice little tidy life it was…
As I am driving, I glance around to see scattered art work, pieces of important paper scattered about, several homeless Happy Meal toys, paper with letters drawn in the handwriting of a three and five year old. There is a tote bag overflowing with articles and items to be read. Located in the rear view, another emergency bag stuffed with shirts and.shorts for them-and me…just in case. Kid’s CDs are scattered and loose on the passenger seat.
Water bottles, half full, are everywhere. There are hair accessories on the floor board. The windows are dirtied from little fingers chasing rain drops and drawing smiley faces. There’s my to-do list from last week with one item checked off. Receipts and old shopping lists are stuffed in the drink holders. Jackets of every sort are everywhere. There is a bottle of aspirin and some hand sanitizer rolling about.
In the back, there is a park blanket, sand toys, a large canvas cooler and a first aid kit-all just in case. There’s the one winged kite and an umbrella that droops. The activity bag hovers in the corner for those long waits at the doctor’s office. There are sand remnants from the last park visit. And of course, there is the mini toilet and toilet paper for those potty training emergencies. Yes, it is a “we have been everywhere” and “we are prepared for anything mess”. And a nice little messy life it is…we are busy and they are loved.
As Moms, we feel judged by the neatness of our homes, our clothes and our cars. In this Martha world, appearances and order seem to mean everything. But does it? When I look at all the stuff in my car, it reminds me this is what matters the most-going and growing with my daughters. The mess isn’t pretty, but it sure is fun.
And each weekend as we load the girls up for another family adventure, my adorable husband will continue to sigh as he sifts through the piles of “car-bage”. He doesn’t and never will understand the nature of this mess. And that’s ok…just don’t tell him that when I take his brand new truck for my solo outings, that I savor my dripping bean burrito while listening to Sirius radio and leave a few wrappers and notes behind-just for him!
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
Now I Get It
As a career woman for a number of years, I remember seeing Moms at lunch, the store, the movies, anywhere and everywhere looking like that. “The look” my friend and I would name it.
We were certain that the “look” was a top five factor in the reason for so many divorces. How could they? Why would they? We would never look like that-or them. To us, it was both tragic and a tragedy.
They seemed oblivious. The pants were too short. The old t-shirt was christened by several stains. The shoes? They had to be at least several years old-the style long gone. And make-up? None, nada, nothing-not even a hint of lip gloss! And the hair? Well, either short or tossed in a pony tail-a five minute do either way.
I would not have left my house looking like they did! I would want to look better for me, my husband and the world I would think to myself.
And then it happened. I became a Mother. I became one of them. I needed no initiation, no pieces of advice, no dress code regulations-it just happened.
A good day became one in which my clothes contained minor wrinkles and a few recent stains. A great day was one of matching socks-for me. If I was wearing make-up, matching socks, unstained and non-wrinkled clothing-I knew I had passed on to the other side…and I don’t mean the street!
Gotta go, gotta go, gotta go right now became a motto for me as a Mom (as well as the bladder control medication) because if you didn’t go right then-you couldn’t go at all! Between potty breaks, diaper changes, multiple feedings, bag “packings”, coupon clipping, note writing, burping, clean up shifts, snacks and meals, there is only a small window of opportunity. See, Moms do have a choice sometimes. Look good and stay home or just go right now –as is!
So, it is not about vanity, it is about choices. Shrieks of laughter from your daughter coming down the park slide, lunch and a support session with another Mom at Chick-Fi-La, watching your daughter in her school’s parade with her hat upside down, going to the grocery store to make a special birthday cake for your husband is worth more than lip stick and a coiffed do any day.
So, I became one of them. My clothing is stained, my shirts are almost always stained, my favorite sandals have a whole in them, I can’t find my blush and my hair is almost always up…and I have never been more joyful.
Now, I get it.
We were certain that the “look” was a top five factor in the reason for so many divorces. How could they? Why would they? We would never look like that-or them. To us, it was both tragic and a tragedy.
They seemed oblivious. The pants were too short. The old t-shirt was christened by several stains. The shoes? They had to be at least several years old-the style long gone. And make-up? None, nada, nothing-not even a hint of lip gloss! And the hair? Well, either short or tossed in a pony tail-a five minute do either way.
I would not have left my house looking like they did! I would want to look better for me, my husband and the world I would think to myself.
And then it happened. I became a Mother. I became one of them. I needed no initiation, no pieces of advice, no dress code regulations-it just happened.
A good day became one in which my clothes contained minor wrinkles and a few recent stains. A great day was one of matching socks-for me. If I was wearing make-up, matching socks, unstained and non-wrinkled clothing-I knew I had passed on to the other side…and I don’t mean the street!
Gotta go, gotta go, gotta go right now became a motto for me as a Mom (as well as the bladder control medication) because if you didn’t go right then-you couldn’t go at all! Between potty breaks, diaper changes, multiple feedings, bag “packings”, coupon clipping, note writing, burping, clean up shifts, snacks and meals, there is only a small window of opportunity. See, Moms do have a choice sometimes. Look good and stay home or just go right now –as is!
So, it is not about vanity, it is about choices. Shrieks of laughter from your daughter coming down the park slide, lunch and a support session with another Mom at Chick-Fi-La, watching your daughter in her school’s parade with her hat upside down, going to the grocery store to make a special birthday cake for your husband is worth more than lip stick and a coiffed do any day.
So, I became one of them. My clothing is stained, my shirts are almost always stained, my favorite sandals have a whole in them, I can’t find my blush and my hair is almost always up…and I have never been more joyful.
Now, I get it.
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