To Thine Own Self Be True

I finally realized, or maybe I've known all along, I was born in the wrong generation. I ache to be the stay at home mom. I really do.  I would love nothing better than to volunteer every.single.day at my daughter's school.  I would cut construction paper circles, laminate hearts, stamp and correct papers.  I would pack a creative, fun, noteworthy lunch for her every day.  I want to be the parent chaperone on all of the field trips.  It would thrill me to no end to read stories in the library to her class.  And I want to come home and cook healthy meals and crock pot recipes and have them turn out well.  (that may just be wishful thinking).

 When I was a kid, the majority of moms that I knew still stayed home.  And not only was that the norm, but no one even batted an eye.  It's not that I want to step back into a world with inequality.  I don't.  But I want to have the choice on the other side of that fence too. 

Last year was a long, hard school year.  I wanted nothing more than to yank my child out and keep her at home with me.  I wanted to teach her and be with her and not miss her so terribly.  I was so envious of my homeschooling friends. This summer I actually daydreamed about walking her to the nearby school. I could actually picture us walking hand in hand.  Smiling and happy.  I attended the same grade school and have so many fond memories.  Because my job situation recently changed, I was able to move her back to this school.  I am so grateful that it will simplify our lives even more. We can walk to work and school everyday!

Today when I went to pick Ruby up from school, I was reminded of her Kindergarten year.  Among those waiting for their kids outside the gate, the majority were for the younger set.  The parents were all chatting when another mom and I started to talk about our kids, our broken cars, the new school year.  It was then I realized this...THIS..is my niche.  I love being a parent waiting on their kid to be dismissed. I love discussing trivial things like when the school carnival will be, what songs the kids will sing at the annual Christmas program, what we think of all the new construction.   You know when people say to find your passion?  This is my passion.

As I stood outside today, talking and socializing, I got that ache.  That "I'm only an imposter" feeling.  I knew in a few days I would be returning to the work force and our days would get busier.  I also realize that most of these parents were in the same predicament as I was. They were picking their kids up before they were dropping them with another relative so they could go work the graveyard shift.  Some were grandparents that were raising their grandchildren. 

I know there are many moms and dads who probably share my feelings.  I also know, the majority of them, like myself, need to work.  I know I am lucky to be able to work in close proximity with my daughter.  I do feel very blessed.  But sometimes, when Ruby asks me what I wanted to be when I grew up and I give her my usual answer of "a mom" she laughs and says "No, mom, WHAT did you want to be?"  I realize I could come up with many answers, but my top choice would always remain the same.  It is knowing that I can't fulfill the position the way I wanted to that is sometimes disheartening.

This isn't so much about feeling sad about it all, but more the realization that my potential will never be reached.  I will ebb and flow and make adjustments along the way.  We will share wonderful times and memories, no doubt about it.  But, it's about realizing that even if my choices have led me down another path (and not necessarily a bad or wrong path) it was always okay to want a different direction all along.  It's about respecting those desires and not being intimidated by the fact that while others may find it mundane, uninspiring, even boring, it is what inspires me.  It's knowing that even though my vision for myself isn't exactly what I want, it isn't too far off from the mark. 

I Can See Clearly Now, The Rain Is Gone

We are nearing the half-way mark of Summer.  It's been busy. Mostly with doctors appointments and car repairs.  But, it's still better than juggling this along with working.  Things are changing.  Summer does that.  Kids grow, stretch taller, step further out into this world.  One thing I've noticed over the years, is that Ruby tends to have growth spurts during these months.  I attribute it to the longer hours of sleeping in, combined with all the vitamins from the sun.  Not sure if that's a proven scientific fact or just my own hypothesis. 

 A few days ago I took her in for an eye appointment.  She had been complaining about blurry vision for awhile, and even though she'd only been diagnosed with astigmatism in the past, I figured I should have her checked out.  I was amazed at the change in her vision over the course of 2 years.  Although the doctor reassured me that it was in fact quite normal for a child's vision to change so rapidly, I immediately felt upset that it wasn't caught earlier on.  That's what parents do, I suppose.  I felt foolish tearing up, as I watched her try to read those little letters.  I found myself (in my own head) trying to will the letters to her somehow.  As I watched the letters grow larger and she still wasn't able to read them, I began to panic. 

Luckily, the eye doctor had enough foresight (no pun intended) to explain to me that Ruby would indeed (even without glasses) still pass a driving test. That what looked to be gigantical letters to me, actually appeared much smaller in the reflection she was reading.  Oh, and yeah, she had one eye covered while she was trying to read them! Whew, way to go Dr. Marsh! You talked this mama off yet another proverbial bridge.

Sometimes parenting brings out the biggest fool in me.  Oh my goodness how I second guess everything.  I remember a few years ago when I tried to explain my feelings of angst to another person.  I was giving away some of Ruby's baby clothes and asked if I wasn't the only one who felt melancholy in doing so.  I mean, wasn't that just the saddest thing she ever heard?  She looked at me as though  I were crazy. 

Okay, so back to the eye doctor visit.  Things weren't going very smoothly to begin with.  Ruby was not thrilled that she would in fact need to have glasses.  She was even less thrilled trying to pick them out.  Again I reached out in commiseration to the gal who *helps* with the selection.  I said something along the lines of, "I bet a lot of kids are sad when they have to wear glasses, huh?"  Her prompt reply?  "No, most kids are very excited!"  Thanks lady, you've been a great help.  Excuse me while my daughter stonewalls me a bit longer.

We did finally settle on some cute frames.  They should be ready in a few weeks.  Just in time for Back to School.  Ruby told me today, in all of her 9 year old toughness, that she wouldn't be wearing them.  That she looks ugly.  I heard my own mother's words coming from my mouth.  "Yes young lady, you will be wearing them and you will look cute as a bug in a rug!" But, I get it.  Change is hard.  Growing up is hard.  And sometimes, your mom wishes she could wear your glasses for you.

Moulin Rouge and other sundry items.

So, for the last couple of days I've been home sick.  Cooped up, feeling lousy, going stir crazy.  I'm always so thankful for my health after being sick.  I think about what it would be like to be chronically ill.  And, I feel so badly for those who are and struggle with this on a daily basis.  After a day or two, I need to get out!

Late this afternoon, Ruby and I ventured out to return some movies and to pick up some facial soap.  I really like a certain brand. The only thing is, the last time I went to get it, I was treated so rudely by the clerk, I vowed never to go back to that store.  I don't spend a ton of money on cosmetics.  Rarely do I wear make-up.  But, I do splurge on my soap.

I was trying to think of where I could go and then remembered seeing it at a place in the mall called Sephora.  Perhaps you're familiar with Sephora. Well, let me just say, I had no clue about this place other than hearing my friend Jenna and little sister Amber rave about it when it first opened.  What is most shocking to me is how much fun someone who doesn't wear make-up can have in this store!

When we first went in, we were hit by all the scents (a bit over powering at first) and bright lights. On our way to get said soap, we were intercepted by a helpful clerk that led us directly to our destination. Little did I know that we would not leave for another hour and not without first getting a mini make over.  (Did I mention I don't wear make-up?)

What I loved most about Sephora (aside from the great staff), is how everything is available to test and try on.  By the time we walked down the nail polish aisle, Ruby had 10 different shades of polish on.  When asked if she liked Taylor Swift, she was quickly escorted to the perfume section where a sample of her latest perfume was put in her very own sample bottle to take home.  And when we encountered the lipstick aisle, I knew we would not leave before testing at least one lip gloss.

So, what does any 9 year old girl request when given an array of lipstick choices?  Why Moulin Rouge of course!  Up at the beauty counter she sat as the make up artist outlined and painted her lips the brightest color of red.  She giggled hysterically and then insisted that I have my turn.

In the end, we both looked like reality tv stars..er..um..I mean princesses.  We decided we'd give make-up a few more years.  She decided we looked too much like Olivia (a story about a pig that is always in some kind of mischief.) And I decided I just might splurge on the brown sugar lip exfoliant on my next visit.

In your ninth year.

Some days it's just so overwhelming. I think, maybe it would easier if you were still that little portable baby. The one I could pick up and carry and keep safely right by my heart.  I love watching you grow and change.  I am so grateful to have a ring side seat into your sweet little self.  But there is SO much going by too quickly, and it's often hard to keep up.  I blinked and now you're 9!  I can't imagine anything better in my life before you.  I can't imagine anything more wonderful or heartbreaking than watching you grow up and fly away.  Does every parent want to freeze time?  I've always wished that I could have a do-over of the sleep deprived years.  It wasn't fair, with everything being so out of focus.  I want to see all of the "firsts" again, with clearer eyes.  I want the stress of being a first-time mommy to be erased so I can be in each and every moment.  Memorize it.  I want to spend every single minute of every single day playing with you and listening to you laughing.  I want to keep you safe from anyone who dares to break your heart, make you feel inadequate or tells you you are anything other than the amazing child you are.  I want to skip all the busyness and just be.  In this ninth year of your life, I am so grateful that you are mine.  That I was lucky enough to be given this gift.  And my prayer is that each day you will know how very much you are loved.  Happy 9th Birthday, Ruby Jane ♥

Defining moments.

I've been going through some photo albums looking for pictures for my Dad's upcoming 75th birthday.  Ruby pulled out all of her baby albums and started perusing.  Later that night as we were getting ready for bed she said, "I wish I had a Dad."  This is a conversation we have had quite a bit, but seems to come more frequently these days.  I explain that she does in fact have a Dad.  I tell her that even though he isn't present in her life, he does exist.  And I also told her (as I always have) that we should pray for him to make better decisions.  She replied as only a child can.  "Yeah, Mom, but I don't think he will ever make good choices.  And I want a Dad right now, not later."

On a spiritual level she is aware of her Heavenly Father.  She knows that He is never going to leave her.  But, I get, how at 8, she longs for a relationship with her father, too.  It hurts that I can't give her that.  Especially because I know what a special bond that is.  My father has stepped up to the role of not only Papa, but on many occasions, Dad.

This past week we attended a Daddy/Daughter dance at a local church.  It was so sweet to see all of these dads and daughters, arriving in their Sunday finest,  some in stretch limo's, to dance the night away.  A girls first love is her daddy.  My Dad escorted Ruby and she had a great time.

For a brief moment, I was a bit melancholy watching the daughters with their fathers.   Then an amazing thing happened.  A friend of mine (a wonderful dad) asked Ruby to dance.  My brother in law with his daughters invited her on to the dance floor.  And my Dad was ready to cut a rug with his decked out granddaughter while Justin Bieber blared in the background. Of course Ruby was content to hang back and dance with her balloon and indulge in cupcake after cupcake.

It was then that I realized (not for the first time) how very blessed we are to have so many wonderful dad role models that have (and continue to) step up.  My sweet brother in law David, who drops everything to air up bicycle tires and burn movies for her.  My brother in law Jess who does magic tricks for her.  My brothers Kevin and Anton who indulge her and make her feel special.  And my brother in law Scott who made sure she had her favorite tunes on a cd when she had her MRI.  She adores her cousins who let her play games on their phones and never seem too busy to include her in whatever they are doing.

So, while it isn't within my power to change another person, I can certainly change my perspective while shaping hers.  I can teach her the definition of what a father is and she will see that she has been surrounded by them all along.  

You Are My I Love You.

Here it is October. The changing of the seasons. It is also the month my daughter was born.  How did another year already fly by? How can that be? How did you stretch 3 more inches and grow a shoe size bigger since the last time the earth tilted in this direction? You are growing up and growing into the most lovely little person I could have ever imagined.

One of my immense joys is sharing books with you. Today, I am reminded of one of our favorites You Are My I Love You. The lines read, “I am your parent, you are my child. I am your quiet place; you are my wild. I am your audience; you are my clown. I am your London Bridge; you are my falling down. I am your way home; you are my new path. I am your dry towel; you are my wet bath. I am your favorite book; you are my new lines. I am your night-light; you are my starshine. I am your lullaby; you are my peekaboo. I am your good-night kiss; you are my I love you.”

I know it is cliché to say that 8 years ago the best thing happened in my life. But, it is true. The moment the doctor asked me what names I had chosen and then revealed to me that I had a baby girl, my life was forever changed. For the better. And these 8 years have been a gift to me beyond measure.

Happy 8^th Birthday to my Ruby Jane!

Summertime and the Livin' is Easy

Summertime is slowly fading.  And I'm not ready. Not ready to give up my carefree days. Not ready for a nearly 3rd grader.  But, alas, I must get back to routine. The traditional backpack and lunch box are waiting to be packed.  The morning rush is awaiting. There is cursive to be learned.  Multiplication facts to be memorized.

But for now, I will soak up these last few days of summer with lots of outside time and savor the shaved ice snow cones from the sno-shack.  I will hang on to the warmer evenings and longer days.  Because all too soon, they will be fading into cool fall nights.