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My First Mother’s Day

13 May

I celebrated my first Mother’s Day two Sundays after Nia was born. Andrew couldn’t be with us that day but he made sure to send his two girls a sweet surprise. While in Iraq, before computers and phones were available for soldiers, Andrew found a way to order me my favorite flowers (daisies) and Bean a dog stuffed animal. He had them delivered to our home right on time for Mother’s Day and it made me feel loved, appreciated and connected to him even though we were so far apart and he hadn’t even met our daughter yet.

I found a picture that shows his gifts to us. The dog watched over her on top of her bassinet and the flowers dressed up the table next to her, near the couch where I sat:

Baby Bean with Doggy on her Bassinet

Bean still keeps the doggy close. His nose is worn and he shows her years of hugs and travels. She takes him with her on trips, tucking him in her pillow case and feeling comforted as soon as she snuggles him. She knows that “soldier daddy” got him for her and she cherishes that so sweetly. I know there will be a time when he will be moved to a shelf and then a keepsake box, but right now, nine Mother’s Days later, her special doggy is resting at the top of her bed as she sleeps – watching over her like he did as a baby.

Snuggles Special Doggy

Mom “Types”

13 May

Hey, ma. You love your kid, right? You care about whether your child is sad, sick, hungry, happy, well-behaved, mannerly, respectful, treated right by others … right? I know there are trying times, but your love and protection is always there. I think that’s swell and I want you to know it.

I’ve read a few blog posts over the last few months that talk about mom “types” and they’re bringing me down. It comes to my mind even more after all the TIME magazine cover hubbub about “attachment parenting.” I’ve also heard a lot about “helicopter moms” and of course there’s always the ever-present and anger-causing divide between “working moms” and “stay-at-home moms.”

  • This blog post talks about “judgmental moms” then goes on to judge other moms by asking at the end, “Which parent type do you not like?”
  • This blog post labels all the different moms seen at the school – some are spoken highly of, some are questioned.
  • This one goes so far to talk about how much she doesn’t like moms who cut their children’s food in fun shapes but then concludes that she doesn’t like when other moms judge her.

Why are we so mean to each other? Why do we group people like this? Because it helps us relate in some way? To know our place? I can understand that there will be other people we don’t get along with or whose company we don’t necessarily enjoy, but are these moms endangering their children’s lives in some way? Are they demeaning, neglectful or abusive? Is she killing her child’s spirit? If that’s the case, I feel it’s a different thing because then she is hurting her child, not just offending others with her mom style. It seems to me the acts that the labels describe are not harmful to their children, just their mom esteem.

I am guilty of having a gut reaction to some of the parenting styles I see. I’ve actually written about it before: It’s Just Sad to Me and It Takes a Village and All That. In these cases, I feel like the parents are putting their children in direct risk of harm and I struggle with my feelings about it. I know I’ve done plenty of things that would get a head shake or a clicked tongue by some moms.

I let my kids watch tv – even in the car. They play video games. It takes me days to put away their laundry. Sometimes, they eat fast food and don’t get enough veggie servings in a day. I attempted breastfeeding for as long as I could but didn’t make myself – or my child – miserable when my body said no more. I co-slept with them. I let them cry themselves to sleep. I’ve raised my voice to them. I’ve disciplined harshly. I’ve questioned a low grade on a test and reviewed it with them to teach them. I’ve over-praised and bragged on them. I’ve loved intensely, letting their moods and feelings heavily affect mine. I’ve wondered how the heck to be a mom.

All of those things came from caring about them and about whether I was being a good mom to them, as I’m sure many of the labeled moms are trying to do. My kids seem to love and respect me – and generally think I’m ok, so far. (In fact, Nia just told me I’m the “best” and she didn’t ask for a treat after it.) Is there a mom type for that?

I kinda like them.

Passion to Play

1 May

Sometimes, all I can say is wow. Wow. Did Nate just do that? How was he so quick? How did he see that happening? How did he know to do that?

At 6 years old, Nate knows more about the rules and design of baseball than many adults. (I still don’t get that infield fly rule.) Nate pays attention. He knows where the runners are and what he needs to do to help make the out. Tag the base. Tag the runner. Throw it to Second. Cover a base. He thinks without hesitation. He watches every move on the diamond, even when he’s not on it. In the dugout, he and his buddy, Jack, cling to the fence,  focused on the field excitement and anxiously awaiting their turns to bat.

I know that as they all get older, more and more players will grasp, practice and perfect all that is baseball. Now though, I just stand jaw-dropped watching Nate’s passion to play guide him out there. I was so amazed at a recent catch he made for an out while playing shortstop that I missed the immediate second out he made when he ran to Second Base to tag the runner heading toward him.

I did manage to capture some pre-wow pictures during that game. He just has so much heart and intensity. The love of the game is an incredible thing.

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Makes a Catch for an Out

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Super Stretch to Make the Catch for an Out

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Finally, time to hit!

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Got It!

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Played Hard

Why Is Nine Afraid of Seven?

29 Apr

Because eight was so great.

Department Store Catalog Pose featuring her Fashion Creation

I know nine will be too, I’m just going through the typical parent emotion of watching the years fly by. To see Nia’s sweet, smart and caring spirit adapt to and try to understand different experiences as she figures out how to respond and feel. To see her become her own person, create her own sense of style, humor and thoughts. It is wonderful, but wild.

Trying to be serious during a fit of giggles.

Her eighth year was full of firsts and new emotions. Riding without training wheels; keeping her Barbies in the drawer and, instead, spending more time with the door to her room closed to sing and dance to the latest pop music; watching less cartoons and more human-acted TV shows and movies; falling in love with Grease (and even seeing it live as a play – thanks, Aunt Ree!); and wanting to put a little more distance between her mom or dad as she plays outsides or explores a store. (I never let her out of my sight!)

Little Mall Shopper

Now, as she starts on her ninth year, I hope she handles her new adventures and challenges with the same thought and heart that she has shown so far. She tries her best, loves a good joke (which I attempted for her with the title), knows how to laugh at herself and how to make others laugh, and most beautifully, is caring to all.

Sharing the love while she sleeps.

From Sick to Silly

29 Apr

Her birthday party invitations asked her closest girl pals to join her at the theater for popcorn, sweets and a cute flick called “Chimpanzee.” Her request for a red velvet cupcake was going to come true and the silly favors were ready – miniature Monkeys-in-a-Barrel. Then, Strep throat struck the star of the shindig.

Party postponed.

A very saddened and sick nine-year-old cried in my arms. I wanted to cry too but amazingly (unbelievably) I didn’t ( in front of her anyway). I told her we would still have the party, but we just couldn’t today. Yes, sweet Bean, you will still get a red velvet cupcake if you want.

She slept through the time she would’ve been celebrating.

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Sicky and Sleepy

The rest was needed. A day later, thankfully, she was back to her silly self and asked for pickles. Party on.

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Feeling Better

We held the party do-over a week later and it was a success! Bean loved her birthday at the big screen – complete with giggles and chattiness that couldn’t be helped among the girlies.

Waiting on a Catch

21 Apr

The feeling is so distinct. It has been years since I experienced it directly but I remember it each time I watch Nate on the baseball field. It’s like I can almost sense it through him.

He waits – eager, aware, knees slightly bent, ready to run, glove out, his free fist punches it to make it awake and prepared for something spectacular – a catch.

"Baseball Ready" by Dodgers' Mom, Amber

I remember what that felt like. The want of it is incredible and powerful.

Let’s go, batter. Hit it to me. I dare you. With the clang of the bat, the ball flies above the field. Above the pitcher. Above Second Base. It’s close to me. I got it. It’s mine! I run for it. Empty glove out. The slap of the ball. Heavy glove. Cheers. Elation. Ready for another.

I wasn’t a star softball player. I would actually call myself average but that doesn’t take away from that feeling. Now, I as watch Nate, I know he feels it too. He wants to field that ball. He wants the catch. He will dive out in the air for it. He’s made a few and missed a few, too. It seems the ones you miss make the ones you snag so much sweeter.

I’m thankful Nate and Andrew let me play outfield for them when they practice. I still can’t shake that feeling. Come on, Nate. Hit me a pop-up.

Waiting for my Catch

Spring Break(ing Me Down)

19 Apr

I kid. I kid. Spring Break 2012 has been great, it’s just hard to keep these tiny customers entertained and pleased each day ’round the daylight hours without collapsing. It works out wonderfully that I get to have the week off with them and have my mom (“Honey”) here at the same time but kids will wear you down, man. I forgot what it’s like to have all the minutes in the day to enjoy with children packing limitless energy. I actually sent them to “school” for one of the days.

Really though, they got to shadow with their buddies who attend an area private school to see if it’s something they may like. They both loved it. I think we will wait a year and see how Nate handles First Grade at his current school before we decide on making a major move. It’s good to know that they both were happy there – and frozen yogurt with buds at the end of the short day was a sweet topping.

Frozen Yogurt Friends

We spent another day shopping. Nia scored her new favorite (slightly) heeled shoes and we all laughed as Nate busted a move near the CD samples of 60’s Swing near the greeting cards at Target.

Some other Spring Break hours were spent on a special daddy/son baseball night that featured Tim Hudson pitching for the Gwinnett Braves and a happy Nate with a ball.

Thanks to a Sharing, Stranger

Another fun (and brave) day involved a field trip to the Atlanta Botanical Garden thanks to my friend, Tracy, who gave us guest passes. Of course, we had an adventure figuring out how to get there when my GPS needed slapped to obey me. Then, Nate ran through most of the Garden like he was in a sprint race (and sighed out at one point, “You keep wanting to look at all the flowers!”). What I will remember most is this:

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Following the Map Readers

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Momma's Pack, Complete with Necessary First Aid Kit

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Enjoying the Exploring

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"What's in that cave?" "Boo!"

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Giant Caterpillar is Hungry

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Loved the Children's Garden

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Whoa! Bees!

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Favorite Fancy Flower

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Trying to get the frog to jump in his pocket.

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Happy Day with Honey

I guess a good Spring Break is one where the adult supervision needs a nap during the day while the kids destroy one of their rooms.

Inquisitive Kid Interrogation

7 Apr

It was a night-night routine like any other: tuck under the blankets, prayers, start her instrumental music CD, talk about happy things for her to think about to keep bad dreams away and, of course, hugs-n-kisses. Then, Nia started firing the questions at me:

“Is the Easter Bunny just a mascot?”

“Um, I’m not sure.”

“Are you really the one who hides the eggs?

“What do you want to believe?”

“That you sleep and the Easter Bunny comes then. But is it you? Tell the truth.”

I totally fail at a response and lean over to hug her and hide my horrible poker-player face. Then, successfully (terribly) change subject.

The questions are flying and I have zero clue how to answer them. I really struggle with all the magical people in my children’s lives and discussing things I don’t even fully understand. Not just about the bunny or Santa either. More so about God.

Nia wants to know: “Was God born? How was God just there? He had to come from somewhere.”

I don’t know how to respond. All I can say is I believe He was just there. He was first. I want to believe that. I will try to give Bean what she wants for as long as I can, too.

I feel the spirit of all of it is rooted in positivity and is meant for good. I get that feeling from my belief in God. I hope she will understand the intention was never to deceive and hurt. I’m also hoping I’ll know the right time to discuss it with her. The night before Easter just didn’t feel right. Or maybe it was perfect…a confession of sorts.

Where is that basket so I can candy myself into a sugar haze and forget this until she brings it up again? Maybe then will be the right time.

Buddies, Baseball and Bulldogs

2 Apr

Bulldog Baseball Fans

We met through a love of baseball – cheering on our three boys and their t-ball team. Now, a season or so later, I’m happy we were all able to get together again – this time to cheer on the Bulldog baseball team.

Georgia didn’t win but we all had a great time in the stands and watching all of our kids run the bases (twice) after the game. (Andrew may or may not have timed Nate. He was trying so hard to pass a much taller kid in front of him and was pretty McSpeedy. The girls did great in their flip-flops and fashion wear.)

Our boys aren’t on the same t-ball team this season (in fact, we have to play against each other in a few weeks!) but I have a feeling they will be rooting for each other from across the field. All three of them love the sport so purely and intently. They watched the entire game, wearing their gloves and talking stats.

Baseball buds.

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Dear Sister Note about the Play that Wasn’t

27 Mar

The play was for Literacy Day. Nate’s class had been learning songs about vowel sounds, rhyming words and speckle frogs for weeks. He sang in the shower and at the breakfast table to Nia, rehearsing – complete with finger snaps and an air guitar. He excitedly asked if we could watch him sing. The night before the big day finally arrived. He fell asleep singing, knowing I was going to be in the audience to see him shine with the other Kindergartens. Then, hours later, he woke up with a terrible coughing fit.

Sadly, he would miss his play – too tired from a rough night and too sick to sing on stage. He sang for me at the doctor’s office (white-wall video at the bottom of this post) and wrote Nia a note:

Signed: Sweet, Sicky Boy

Translated: “Nia, sorry I cannot come to school today because I am sick. I can do another play next year. Don’t worry, Nia. I have a bad cough. One thing why I can’t come. Two, I have a cold.”

He later added, “I hope I don’t have it anymore and I wish you don’t have it like me.”

Sweet, sicky boy. I’m glad you are feeling better now.