Indignities

This morning, I woke up with bags under my eyes.

Truthfully, I've not really understood the meaning of "bags under the eyes" before now.
But I woke up this morning, and my eyes looked as if they had packed to go on a TransContinental trip for a month.
The upper lids were hanging droopily,
the lower bags were puffed up like nothing I have ever seen.
The two practically met in the middle.
In sad little slits, my blue-green eyes peered our mournfully, gazing at the mirror.
"Who are you?" they asked, in a pathetic, yet horrified tone.
I had no answer.

I remember, in the halcyon days before I turned 40,
I had a dear friend who would complain mightily about whiskers sprouting from her chin.
WHAT?? I would think to myself. That is GROSS!!
I am so glad that doesn't happen to ME!
And then.. one day..
I took my shower as I do every day
and then peered groggily into the mirror through my then-bagless-eyes.
With a start, I leaned in more closely and then, I kid you not, I actually YELPED in surprise and horror.
There, springing directly from my chin, was a thickish, longish BLACK WHISKER.

WHAT THE HELL???

I slid as quickly as I could over to the tweezers,
plucked that bad boy out and began a frantic examination of every part of my face.
Were there any more? How had that happened??

I've since discovered that whiskers are sneaky.
SUPER SNEAKY!
They pop out seemingly overnight.
I won't have one for a long time and then BAM!
If I don't check for them every single morning,
I just might head out the door with a big ole black whisker greeting the world.

The final injustice has been back pain.
I pulled my back out a few months ago.. SLEEPING.
I woke up and was like a turtle on his back, flailing in pain.
As long as I kept moving during the day I was fine but each night, it would reset.
Finally, I was forced to take a muscle relaxant for two nights to get over it.
I was like a drooling imbecile during the day those two days but it did the trick.

I wasn't alone in this however.
Rob was BRUSHING HIS TEETH a few weeks ago
when there was a sudden yelp of pain.
Yep, the twang had happened to him too.
He hitched through his day and came home, miserable,
for about five days before he too succumbed to a muscle relaxer for a night.

Ah, the indignities of aging!
Tell me, what have you experienced that I get to look forward to?

Homes and Friends

My family and I have been living in our current home for seven and a half years.
This is the longest I have ever lived in any one home (continuously) in my life.

I have lived in many homes since college.
An apartment that backed to beautiful woods in Tennessee,
then a rented townhouse in an area that our elders considered practically a ghetto;
where police cars were a common occurrence, along with music at loud volumes with a pulsing bass beat.
But, we were on our own and paying rent and we were heady with our success.

Then, in North Carolina, a cute little rented brick townhome that was my daughter's first residence.
Rob would walk in the door each evening and I would greet him with a red-faced screaming infant in my arms.
I would thrust her at him, turn on my heel and disappear to my bedroom to cry hot tears into my pillow.
This is where we would take the squalling little tyrant-infant on walks in a Snugglie,
numb with exhaustion.
It was on one of these walks that we passed by another young couple, on a walk with their happy, smiling infant in a stroller. The mother smiled at me with a Madonna smile and sighed, "Isn't this the best time of your life?"
I wanted TO. KILL. HER.
If I were not too sleep deprived, I would sprinted after her and GIVEN her my infant.

Not long after that, Kate began to smile, to suck her thumb, to jump in her Johnny Jump Up
and I began to get small glimmers as to what that woman could have possibly meant.
Then, a small unassuming rented rancher in a North Carolina suburb.
Our family life really began to crystallize there- a toddler who learned to crawl.
A lovely screened porch where she would play, while I learned about email in the adjoining family room.
Playgroups, Barney videos and Mom's Clubs and finally, I truly began to feel like a mother.
Looking back now, I can see that I was in a mild depression when I had Kate and my life was turned upside down.
All my friends worked, I knew no other mothers and had no idea what to do with this infant who seemed to scream ALL THE TIME.
I pulled myself up enough to make the effort to reach out.. and made some of my closest friends.

Then, a move up the coast and to our current state.
We've bounced around a bit here too:
a rented townhouse while we got the lay of the land,
then our first foray into home ownership with our very own townhouse.
Again, rich memories of excitement and anticipation as it was built.
Baby Chris being born and coming home.
A toddler and an infant playing in the finished basement with the gas fireplace crackling
or Kate running round and round the island of our large country kitchen
with a bald baby Chris tearing after her,
hell on wheels in his little walker.
Such a very sweet time.

Then, I was pregnant with Trey and our townhouse was feeling very small.
Time to move on up!
Again, giddy anticipation as our first REAL, single family home was built.
In many ways, this was probably my favorite HOUSE.
It had its drawbacks to be certain, but the large bedrooms, roomy bathrooms and finished basement
were perfect for our family.
And in that home we became a family of three kids and two adults.


Our lives were hectic and busy but again, a sweet time.
Kate and Chris had best friends that lived right next door.
This was both a blessing and a curse.
This neighborhood had TONS of kids in it.
So many that with two bus stops in our neighborhood, the entire bus was completely full,
sometimes with three kids to a seat.
The great thing: tons of kids to play with.
The downside: houses crammed together with no privacy and kids who were always off playing with their friends.
We literally could not pull into the driveway before kids would be coming over.
Sometimes there were kids already in our backyard before we even GOT home!

And then, our last move.
Our current home with lots of trees and lots of privacy.
A home in an established neighborhood with folks that have been here for all the years since the houses were built.
On the flip side, a neighborhood with next-to-no kids.

For the past six years or so, there have been few if any kids for my kids to play with.
Chris especially used to cry about how much he missed his friends William and Cameron
and I felt awful to moving him to a neighborhood with no kids.
Oh, the guilt!
But then, I noticed something happening.



Chris, having no other same age peers, began to notice and play with Trey.
The two boys quickly became fast and close friends
and I realized that had we stayed in our previous neighborhood, with all the kids,
our kids would have had many friends but would probably not be terribly close to EACH OTHER.




And now, seven years later, I look out my bedroom window on this unseasonably warm February day.
Four boys are playing basketball- my 13 and 10 year old sons, and two other boys that have somehow found us
and become friends.
The doorbell rings again regularly now with various boys looking for a pickup game of basketball or to throw a football or baseball around.
And I am so pleased.
Pleased that there are kids from the neighborhood who come over and play
but also deeply pleased that my boys, who are friends and brothers, go out and play with them.. together.

Detention Nightmares

One of the things that I marvel at about my two older children is that they are natural born Rule Followers.

This was in evidence even when they were young.
If I told them not to do something, that was that.
Not to say for one moment that these are perfect kids or that their rule following tendencies don't sometimes get run over by their desire to have or do something, but for the most part, if a line is drawn in the sand, they are pretty respectful of that line.

Not everyone is born like this.
Not that I know this personally.
AHEM.

Anyway, I was driving the two olders to school today
and listening Kate and Chris complaining about two teachers at their school
who have gotten "Detention Happy."

There was a small gasp from Chris, in the backseat.
"They are giving out DETENTIONS for that?

"Yes!" responded Kate, "and it goes on your PERMANENT RECORD!"

Chris flops back in his seat, stunned.

I tried to cover my laughter with a cough, but Kate caught on.

"MOM! Getting a detention is a BIG deal! Remember that time I got a detention for walking around the halls of the school for play practice in ninth grade?"

I wracked my brain and found a vague memory of having to sign a slip from the Assistant Principal.

Kate went on, a vague note of hysteria in her voice:
"That freaked me out SO BAD! I had nightmares for more than a week about it! I dreamed that I was getting all these detentions and I couldn't go to college because I had all these detentions..!"

I looked over at her, my eyes wide and mouth agape. I had no idea that she had freaked out over the detention. I remember thinking it was a stupid detention in the first place!

That Crappy Bunny

So I was reading my Google Reader tonight and an entry on my brother's blog popped up.

Smiling, I read his tale of his three year old son Nathaniel asking his Daddy where the Easter Bunny lived (he replied Bunny Land but was then stumped when further queried about an exact geographical location.)

This brought back one of my most irreverent Easter memories.

When Kate was small, she had an EXTREME fear of people in costume.

Rob and I didn't know it until she caught sight of a man dressed up as Santa when she was 17 months old.
At that time, our busily running toddler caught sight of the man in the red suit, came to an abrupt halt and DROPPED full-on to the floor, where she started screaming and dragging herself on her belly across the floor in pure terror.

This continued through all manner of costumed characters: Sesame Street, Halloween, singing and dancing costumed ANYTHING- whatever. It was all grounds for wet pants and meltdowns of epic proportions.

After a few clothing changes, Rob and I grew much better at getting her the heck out of Dodge when someone was going to make an appearance in costume.

However, after our move up the coast, we were invited to a friend's birthday party for her twin girls.
Kate was about to turn three at the time.
There were fun games and (I believe) an Easter Egg hunt.
Things were going splendidly and fun was had by all.

But then, suddenly and unexpectedly,
a SURPRISE! appearance by none other than the EASTER BUNNY!

I remember seeing Kate come a dead halt.
Rob and I were in instant motion, grabbing her and moving quickly away from the offending creature,
while praying we weren't going to get peed on by our terror-stricken child.

We said our quick goodbyes and stuffed her into the backseat of the car for the drive home.

"Mom, Dad?" said our toddler as we spirited her home, "That was SCAWY!"

"Yes, you were scared. But it's all right now." we replied.

There was a pause and some rapid thumbsucking noises from the backseat.
Then a weary sigh and this question:

"So when is all this Easter shit going to be over, anyway?"

One Finger at a Time

I'd say that the running theme of this year
has been the slow, thoughtful process of learning to let go.

Granted, Kate has over a year before she is off to her first year of college
but the letting go process has been unfolding here for a while.



Letting go can mean a sweet sixteen party, and realizing the next milestone is turning 18, and graduation.

Letting go can mean going to look at colleges, giving opinions and then allowing her to have an opinion of her own, even if you don't agree with it.




Letting go can mean giving advice and then biting your tongue until it's practically bleeding.

Letting go can mean trying to learn not to "fix things" and letting her experience sadness, failure and disappointment- and then quietly offering a cup of cocoa and an I love you.

Letting go can mean seeing your child less as her life becomes her own- less family and parent centered and more world-centered.. her world.



Yes, the letting go is a process that is both exciting and daunting.
I am only now realizing that this letting go will keep reoccurring not only as she goes to college but over and over again
throughout our lives.
And that she too is letting go.

My prayer is that she steps out in confidence and bravery..
and that she always knows that even as we are letting go
our hands are outstretched to her-
to guide, protect and catch her if necessary.



And also to clap for her.. and I have the feeling we'll be doing a lot of clapping.