Learning to walk on my own

Three years.  Every single school day that wasn't freezing or raining for three years.  On days when everything was coming up roses and on days when the thunderstorm followed us everywhere for three years.  Sometimes with a snack, sometimes with an attitude, always with each other for three years.

Eva was in Kindergarten the first time Maya and I took an afternoon walk.  We got to the school really early to pick up her sisters, so we decided to walk around "town" while we waited.

And that's how it started.  Since then, we've taken approximately 300 walks. 

We've giggled and laughed and talked our way through each one without a care in the world.

Sometimes, one of us would even skip through our walk. 

And, often, we would stop to enjoy the flowers.

Or stop to read to each other.







Or otherwise just show how fabulous we are.

But, mostly, we just walked together.  Talking about any and everything, Maya and I spent a few minutes enjoying the world together.





Until yesterday, when we took our very last solo walk.  My heart broke a little when we got back to the school.  In a few months, I'll be standing by myself outside of the school waiting for all three of my girls to walk out the doors. 

And, I'll have to learn how to walk on my own.



Learning to depend

I grew up knowing I couldn't depend on anyone.  Honestly, I never had a single feeling of "this person will come through for me".  From birth, I was on my own.

However, I am starting to learn to change that idea.  I am slowly allowing the kindness of others to be a welcome and expected - though always a little surprising - gift.  From the small words of encouragement I have received for this blog to the heartwarming praise I have been given over my new job.  From the people who always remember my girls on their special days to the aunts and uncles who make it possible for the girls to have special summer experiences.  I am one grateful person.

Be that as it may, I am constantly surprised by the absence of those I thought might show me a little support.  I am, by my own measure, not a perfect friend; but I consider myself one who can always be counted on when support is needed.  It has been hurtful to know that not everyone feels the same.  However, new friends have stepped into the places left vacant by now strangers.  I have never been the type of person who meets people easily, so it amazes me each time that a new person comes into my life and stays to play for awhile. 

And, my family is astounding.  My baby brother has become a much more present person in our lives since his accident.  The girls have seen him more in the last month than in the two years before he was injured, and we all hope we are able to keep it going after he completes his long recovery.  My dad and stepmom continue to be the perfect grandparents to their "perfect" granddaughters as well as a good support system for much-less-than-perfect me.  My extended family has shown me tremendous kindness in the small endeavors I have taken.  And, I have two sets of aunts and uncles that have big hands in making this summer one that the girls will remember forever.


Yes, I am truly blessed with a small group of people that I can depend on.  And, while I may never be quick to call for help or ask for favors, it's a new (and very welcome) feeling to know that someone will probably answer that call if I make it.

Knowing there might be a safety net under you sure makes that tight-rope walk a little easier.

Dear Maya,

And though she be but little, she is fierce. - Shakespeare

Dear Maya,

Happy 5th birthday, mami.  As much as I have begged you to let me cancel this day, you insisted on having another year pass.  As usual, your determination beat mine.  Really, all it takes is a little eyelash batting and an "I love you more than anything except God" to get your way.  *sigh*  You and I are in for one looonnngg ride.

You are truly one of a kind, my love.  Dainty and sweet one minute, fierce and ferocious the next.  You live to be the center of attention... until the very second someone takes notice.  You are full of sugar and, once you get past the thick layer of grit and chile, you are one of the sweetest kids I have. 

You make me laugh harder than anyone else (except maybe myself).  With one quick roll of the eyes or the astonishment of learning I will not actually be your maid forever, you and I end up on the floor rolling in giggles.

You are as smart as you are beautiful.  And, that is really saying something!  I don't know another preschooler that could out-spell or out-smile you.

You have promised to stay my baby girl forever, and I will absolutely hold you to that.  Whether you'll still stand on my feet while we dance in the kitchen... or bury your face in my neck when you're pretending to be shy... or stand by my bed at 2 in the morning saying "Hug Mama"... or even let me squeeze you before you head into school - you will always be my baby.  And, while one day I will deeply miss our arguments over whether or not it's appropriate to wear a pettiskirt or tutu every single day, I can't imagine having these discussions with anyone else.  I cannot imagine a day when we're not having a ten minute conversation over whether the light pink flower or the dark pink flower would go better with your outfit.  Or an occasion when I won't spend twice as long on your hair as I do on my own.

Maya, Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty have nothing on you.  You are, by far, the most enchanting princess the world has ever seen.  And, I am so thankful to be your mama.  Yes, you are little but there is no one more fierce than you.

Always,

Mama 

Not just a mama anymore

A while back I posted about how I wanted to be more than just my girls' mama.  I wanted to do something for me.  Well, I think I may have done it.

Coming this weekend to the Mirth Cafe in Lawrence, KS:

Little old me has been hired to bake for a real life restaurant.  I couldn't be more excited/nervous/anxious/overwhelmed.  This weekend, in addition to Maya's birthday and Eva's First Communion, I will be an officially professional baker.  I suppose I have been in a very small way already (through the sales of my cookies and cupcakes), but this feels more definite. 

I want to end with something profound, but really??!!  Words are failing me.

That girl

Be that girl, love.

The one who laughs a little too loud.

The one who worries more about comfort than the "sex" factor.

The one who would rather run with the boys than after them.

The one who knows that smart is forever while cute is fleeting.

The one who stands with her head held high not her belly sucked in.

The one who stays late to get the job done instead of rushing to get to where the fun is.

The one who isn't afraid to say no.

The one who knows that, if saying "no" bothers them, she should say it LOUD and often.

The one who can make the lonely feel part of something.

The one who doesn't care about the "popular girl" list - even if she's at the top of it.

The one who knows who she is without anyone trying to tell her.

The one who believes in herself, especially when others doubt.

The one who can make a mistake without feeling like one.

The one who chooses "right" over "easy".

The one who wears the comfortable shoes.


The one who knows there is no "secret" to anything.

 

The one that everyone secretly fears/envies/admires.

Someone has to be that girl, love.  Let it be you.

Ain't as easy as it looks

A lot is said about how easy kids have it lately.  I could go on and on about practice tests and trophies for 11th place.  I could rant and rave about getting rewarded just for doing homework and walking around with $500 gadgets that I can't afford to have myself.  I have bitten my tongue more times than I can count when hearing my child tell me about all of the television they watched at school that day.  (I mean really... tv watching was a BIG deal when I was in school.  You had to wait for the teacher to roll in the one tv assigned to your grade level.  And, it certainly wasn't an animated cartoon... it was probably an old video demonstrating the enthralling process of water turning to ice.)

What we don't talk about often, though, is how much harder some parts of childhood are now.  I hear about things happening with kids these days, and I cannot believe it.  They worry about things (and their parents worry about things) that never occured to me at the ripe old age of 10.

I didn't give my weight a second thought until after high school.  I ate Wendy's bacon cheeseburger meals ever single day for months without ever considering the fat content.  Now, kids are calling each other fat and squeezing their rolls in elementary school.  Little girls are worrying about what they look like in their jeans long before they should think about anything other than whether their pants are comfortable enough to roll down a hill in.  Plastic surgery should still mean switching heads on Barbies until you're well past graduate school!

And, when I was in high school, I looked like I was still in high school.  Pass any set of teenage girls now and see how many of them look like they're on their way to work instead of heading to Home Ec.  Yes, there were certainly kids in my school that were well put together all of the time, but they weren't put together by Vogue magazine.  What's wrong with looking like a kid while you actually are one instead of squeezing your middle age self into Juicy sweatpants and cleavage plunging tops?

Twenty years ago, if you wanted to spread a rumor about someone, you had to say it to someone's face.  In fact, you probably had to say it to a lot of faces if you wanted to make an impact.  Then, if you were "lucky" enough to spread the rumor, you got visited by the "victim" or friends of that person.  And, you got your a$$ kicked.  Bullies weren't anonymous. Now, any punk can get online and say anything to hurt someone.  Facebook, Twitter, texting, email, and everything in between can be used to destroy someone's reputation.  And, the poor soul who's been targeted is helpless to stop it.  Fair is fair and right is right... unless you have internet access.

And, our stupidity wasn't chronicled for everyone to see.  No photos exist of the complete nonsense I did as a teenager - nothing to save for posterity.  (Unless you count the yearbooks or old Glamour Shots.)  Yes, children do some remarkably foolish things now; but, so did we.  There just weren't cell phones and digital cameras around when we were doing them.  If there had been someone with an I-phone around when I was speeding around curves with my friends sitting outside the window of the car or singing out loud way off key to R. Kelly or Boyz II Men, it probably would have been on YouTube.  And, I probably would've wanted to die.  And, I would probably have become a lawyer just so I could sue to have them all taken off of the internet before my children learned to Google me.  But these kids will snap a picture of themselves doing the dumbest thing they can think of and make it their profile pic in a heartbeat.  They pose naked in front of a mirror so that they can send it to a boy they like.  And, once they hit "send", it's out there.  For everyone to see.  It's there for that boy to forward to everyone they know, to be forwarded to everyone they know, and on and on.  Until some creep in Romania has it as their screensaver in their basement apartment of their mother's home.

Sure, kids have a lot of things handed to them on silver platters.  They are coddled and babied more than I was as an infant.  However, they are also navigating roads we never set foot on.  So, maybe we should offer advice more than complain.  And, maybe we should spend more time trying to help them through these times before we point out how much harder it was when we were kids.

Then we can get back to talking about why in the world fifth graders are allowed to re-do assignments when they don't get a perfect score.  I could go on and on and on...

Dear Sofia,

Dear Sofia,

If I had known eleven years ago...

Before you were born, I worried that I wouldn't know how to love you.  I wasn't sure that I could care for you in exactly the way you would need me to.  I had no idea how a mother completely devoted herself to a child.  Then, 38 hours of active labor (most of which was done with an improperly executed epidural) had me really questioning what the heck I was doing.  An emergency c-section (through which I was put to sleep because they again couldn't get the numbing done properly) didn't help to steady my mind.  The last thought I remember having before I was unconscious was:  Wait... what?  The next thing I knew (two hours later), your papi was holding a rolled up blanket to my blurry eyes.  Wait... the blanket had black hair...wait... yes...that blanket is my child.

I remember every moment of your life.  Every one.  Your sisters lives have definitely gone by in a blur, but yours are crystal clear.

You were a sweet baby with a quick giggle and hair that stood out as though you'd been electrocuted.

You were a funny toddler with a sweet smile and a beauty that radiated from within.

You were a smart preschooler with a love of words...LOTS of words...all the time with the words!

You were a generous little kid with a caring heart.

And, now, you are an amazing young lady.  You are smart and thoughtful.  You are sassy and opinionated.  You are my pride and joy.

Things aren't always smooth with you, and I imagine they won't be for awhile.  You have certainly hit the "angst" stage much earlier than I anticipated.  Apparently, the line between parent and pre-teen is very blurred in your vision, though the optometrist assures me your eyesight is fine with your glasses on.  You are still, however, the first person I have ever really loved.  And, no matter how many times we butt heads, your heart is safe with me.

Yes, I worried a lot before you were born that I wouldn't be able to love you.  But that was before we met.  You are one of the three easiest people in the world to adore, and I wouldn't know how not to delight in you.

If only I had known eleven years ago how amazing you would be...

Always,

Mama