Jun 13, 2011 | This Life
Cecile Brunner climbing my arbor on a Grey day in June.
What’s up with this weather? Oh yeah, it’s June on the North Coast. For those of you who live in diverse climates and are already tanned and complaining about the heat and humidity—I’m trying not to resent you. I kinda do, tho. I see your Facebook status talking about your flirty little sandals and the neato keen colored lights in you pool and I think very, very bad thoughts about you.
I’m sorry. It’s poor form. My sense of ethics and fair play and being genuinely happy for your good fortune is moldy.
I wonder if that would fly in a Great Judgement scenario? Dear God, I was petty and thought malicious things because I was green with mold and envy. There was something in the water, God. It’s not really my fault?!
I’m guessing not. Good thing I don’t put much stock in those scenarios. (God’s going to punt me straight to purgatory and LEAVE me there, don’t bother praying for my water-logged soul.)
Where was I? Oh yeah, you’re enjoying summer and I’m busy resenting you.
Welcome to June.
May 9, 2011 | This Life
A gift from my son. Which just proves my point, I don’t think this kid is listening to me.
Whew! We survived yesterday. On a humorous note, I have to tell you: if this blog’s stats are any indication, there’s a whole lot of angst over this holiday! Last week’s stats was lit up with google searches for “honest Mother’s Day Cards.” If you’re an enterprising sort, there is clearly a market for “telling mom like it is” on Mother’s Day! I’m not advocating it, as much as observing. You could probably follow up with “Honest Father’s Day” cards and cards for “Ungrateful children who don’t send Mother’s Day Cards.” Seriously, folks, that’s what been bringing traffic to my blog all week.
That’s what I get for writing a post about not being a fan of Mother’s Day. IZ got my full fledged sermon on our walk yesterday—everything I’d say to all those people out there about the holiday, about what real mothering looks like and how it is imperative for those of us who “celebrate” to “mother” those who can’t. Lucky for you, he’s a built in congregation  of one and sermonizing is now out of my system. But it was a good sermon, complete with emphatic hand gesturing! I’ll just sum it up with what I told facebook, “Rejoice with those who rejoice. Mourn with those who mourn. It’s really not that difficult!”
Or, it shouldn’t be. I saw a lot of evidence to the contrary, last week. People, so called loving mothers, eager Christians, behaving in ways that were neither. There is something about this holiday that brings out very raw emotions—no matter what side of the issue. Ultimately, when I get past my ire and angst, I just feel sad. Sad for those who are mourning. Sad for those who cannot do the very basic act of the mothering that they insist on celebrating!
Sigh.
I should know better.
Anyhow, I don’t celebrate, but apparently my kid didn’t get the memo. He bought me a blank card, telling his father that he didn’t want one of those “sappy” cards. (GOOD BOY!) And he bought a replacement orchid for the one I accidentally offed with too much love last year. His father got around the edict by having a “non-mother’s day dinner” the night before. I love them.
And here’s the thing, the very bottom of my philosophy (for lack of a better word) on the matter: NO GUILT. I was touched and honored and completely charmed by their efforts. But I don’t have expectations. Our son remembered on his own (HUGE!!) and insisted on doing something with his own money. I’m not going to say “no” to that. I’m going to rejoice in the fact that my kid is kinda really great. But I’m also not going to get all weepy and demanding when, eventually, some other woman is the center of his universe.
Can I get an Amen?
May 2, 2011 | This Life
My baby holding tiny Chucks for his new cousin. I guess he’s not such a baby any longer.
Apr 27, 2011 | This Life
My pile of hope. Vintage tablecloths for the front porch. A girl can dream of sunny weather, right?
Observing today:
. . . Spring isn’t ready to arrive. Not really. And yet, despite the deluge that has been our weather, and promises to be our weather the rest of the week, it’s hard to complain when you consider the South. Prayers that direction.
. . .I am utterly thankful for the extra padding on my thighs. I spent a good part of today in waiting rooms. Waiting for a blood draw. Waiting for Xrays. And the frailty of several elderly women struck me. Their tiny bones peeking out from their clothes reminded me that this extra padding I’m carrying around isn’t all that bad. So, today at least, I’m going to rejoice about these thighs of mine.
. . . A clearly sick man struggle with his coat as his wife watched… I couldn’t help but wonder. Is she indifferent? Or, is she really being loving? Giving him his independence, his space, his dignity. And how difficult it must be to walk that line when someone you love is sick. And how deeply blessed I am to be growing old with someone who has that particular skill mastered.
. . . That my husband is a schmaltzy romantic in the most obscure ways. Just realized that the password he set up for an account of mine is actually a numerical representation of “I love Wende”. I’m clueless, sweetheart, but I 7492 you too.
. . . Children grow too fast. Not just their feet and hands and legs, but also their hearts. I bought a pair of tiny, tiny Converse shoes for a nephew I will never meet, and I couldn’t help but remember feet that tiny. Rejoicing over a 14 year old, with feet far larger than mine, who still offers me hugs.
. . . Thankful for the spirit to face our difficulties with joy and gratitude and a sense of adventure. Budget cutting again? No problem, I can do that. Wait, rephrase, WE can do that.
What are you observing today?
Apr 19, 2011 | This Life
An honest card is hard to find.
I’ve been thinking about Mother’s Day a great deal this week. Part of it, is that the dreaded holiday is nearing. Part of it, is finding a card my son wrote to his uncle when he was just 5 (I never mailed it, because Boy Wonder had taped his favorite piece of crayon to it, and I didn’t have the heart to let him part with it.) while I was sorting through old photos. How quickly time passes.
I’m not a fan of the holiday, though I understand Mother’s Day means something to most of you. And I say, “Go, Celebrate.” Just don’t ladle guilt on your children when they don’t live up to your expectations. Because eventually, there will come a time when you are not the center of their universe. That’s a good thing. Embrace it—rejoice in it, you did this! You reared your children to adulthood and autonomy and the ability to be parents themselves.
(more…)
Apr 4, 2011 | This Life
Observing today: Mothering seems to be a “two steps forward, one step back” proposition. It’s important to keep that in mind, I think, especially as you parent into the teen years. Sometimes, your child isn’t ready to be as independent as they claim. And in our case, I feel like it’s time for a remedial course on time management.
It’s too easy to say, it’s a phase or “welcome to teenagers.” It’s also too restrictive to expect adult behaviour, when so many adults don’t seem to get it either! I’m certainly not the paragon of organization. So, we’re taking a step back together. Because parenting is also a collaborative endeavor. We don’t teach lessons to blank slates; our children have moods and personalities and wills and minds of their own! We learn, or don’t learn, together. Give and take, whether we like it or not!
And so we’re learning that actions do have consequences. Which means he’s grounded. Which means I’m grounded. And we start over. Begin again. Me, more present. Him, less free. Eventually, he’ll get it. And then I’ll have to learn the only solo lesson that parenthood has to offer. . . the lesson of letting go.
Until then, we’re in this together, kid.
Note: I read an amazing post on mothering this morning: if you don’t read Dropped Stitches, you really should!
