Beginnings, Endings, and New Beginnings...

I'm just a little melancholy this week in thinking about the upcoming school year. I can't believe the summer is already gone but what I really can't believe is that my little girl is going to be a senior. We spent last night perusing colleges and scholarship websites and I could not help wonder where the time has gone. I'm very excited for her and seeing her make the choices that will become the foundation of her life but also a little sad for myself. My baby will be leaving me. I feel like I'm standing in the wake of the speedboat of her childhood wondering how it went by so fast. So many things come to mind when I think about her...

When they brought her to me the first time (It was my birthday, and I couldn't believe I could have such a wonderful gift) she was a few hours old and they pushed her in in the little bassinet and said "Hey Mommy, here is your daughter." I thought to myself "daughter! Wow, nobody has ever called me Mommy before!" It was an amazing feeling.

We were so inept though at the logistics of parenthood. We learned really fast the first rule of babyhood, NEVER think you won't need the diaper bag even if you are only going out for a minute. We took her to her first two week appt. and left it in the car...silly us...the doc wanted to examine her and took off the diaper and threw it away and we didn't have a spare. While we were debating about whether we should go out to the car and get the diaper bag or borrow a diaper from the docs office, she peed all over the table. That ended THAT discussion. I think the Dr. felt kind of sorry for us as he leaned into the other room and requested a diaper for us. A couple of minutes later she started crying because she was hungry and we didn't have the bottle, and then her bellybutton started bleeding and when the Dr. looked in her mouth discovered she had thrush...I'm sure he was shaking his head when we left the office wondering what this poor kid was in for with parents like us.
We learned pretty fast though. I loved being a mom and loved to give her a bath and dress her up in pretty little dresses then put her in the stroller and show her off to the other moms in the neighborhood. I remember even thinking one time "wow, this motherhood thing is pretty easy! Nothing to it!"
I laugh at myself now, of course...

Then there were the times she made me laugh...I was downstairs in the kitchen once and I heard something upstairs. She was about two I think and was supposed to be in bed. I went upstairs to investigate and found her in the bathroom filling the toilet with billows and billows of toilet paper! And then one time while drinking a glass of milk (sometime later)I thought it tasted funny and went to look at the milk and found a baby wipe in the carton! (a fresh one) No wonder the milk tasted like soap! Now who could have done that?!!
...And then once while driving down the highway in San Diego and listening to Tommy's favorite cassette tape with Lionel Ritchie singing "Brick House", We heard this little four year old voice in the back seat belting out "she's a BRICK--HOOOOWSSE!!" in a very gutteral Lionel Ritchie type voice...We almost had a wreck we couldn't stop laughing, and then there was the time (also driving) she gave us the entire commercial for "Safety can" from the back seat. (still chuckling over that).



And the times she scared me...When Tommy was on his first deployment, the day he left actually, I was resting in the afternoon in the EZ chair after a bad day (the washing machine chose that day to die, of course) and she wanders in with a Combat in her mouth, and while I was on the phone with poison control she comes back in the room with a broken glass Christmas ball in her mouth! And then while I was at work once I had the urge to call home and make sure everything was ok only to find out she had had a bad fall and hit her head. I didn't know how bad it was until later when I got home but when I saw the huge goose egg on her head I got really scared. And then once I caught her drinking Matt's Erythromiacin...don't know how she got the childproof cap off...

And then the times she made me proud...She excelled in school from the very first. The only one to write a complete sentence in Kindergarten during a test, she wrote "I love my Mommy". That still brings a lump. She was in the second grade spelling bee and I didn't go because I thought two year old Ally would be too hard to keep quiet...She won that spelling bee...and I am still kicking myself all these years later for not being there, restless baby or not.

The years just seemed to fly by...eighth grade, ninth grade, band, flag team, then flag captain, learning to drive, and dual highschool/college classes, and now a job...I swear I just blinked and here stands before me this almost grown woman with thoughts, and views, and personality all her own. And soon a life of her own too. I just hope the one thing she takes with her is the knowledge of how much she was loved, despite mistakes we may have made along the way. I hope now that as she begins the foundation for her own life we can add another dimension to our relationship, that of friend as well as daughter.

Dress Up.

I looked at all of the little dresses that my girls have outgrown with a little bit of nostalgia. There is Katie's first birthday dress, first Easter, first Christmas, I have saved them all, as well as all of Alyssa's special dresses. I wondered as I stood there in the closet I was supposed to be cleaning where on Earth the time had gone. Could it be possible that I have one that will be graduating high school next year?
I began to put them order from first to last, from smallest to the last dress, the prom dress Katie wore just last year. My fondest wish is to always buy my girls pretty dresses and hair bows, and patent leather shoes. but they will not allow it any longer. Katie wants to buy her own clothes and she does a nice job of it but no matter how sophisticated she looks, when I see her I always see the little girl in the tiny dress with her hair in a little bow.
When school picture day came around Alyssa and I would spend hours trying on all the dresses in the closet. Since Katie had so many, Alyssa would have all of those that I had saved plus all her own to choose from. Finally one would be chosen and all the rest would be put away until the next special occasion.
This year was different, though. At eleven years of age she has become quite the tomboy. She wants nothing to do with any old (or new) dresses. She doesn't want me to help her with her hair or with her clothes. Much to my dismay, when she was exiting the car a few days ago, she left a parting shot in answer to a question about when school pics were coming. "And Mom", she said, "No more fancy dresses!" and slammed the car door and ran off.
I was left with a feeling of having lost something as I watched her enter the school. Maybe it was my sense of purpose. My purpose all these years has been to mother these children but they are clearly not needing my nurturing much anymore. Now days my mothering consists of support in the way of attending pep rallies, football games, one act plays,school parties, and awards ceremonies.
I'm sure that when they have all gone on to live their own lives I will find a new purpose, one that will keep me busy and fulfilled. But every now and then I am sure I will find myself in the closet rearranging all the dainty dresses and remembering...

Time Flying by and Monkeys Escaping the Barrel

I ignored the alarm going off in my ear and snuggled deeper in the covers, but I was awake. First day of school. Back to the regular routine of early wake ups, making lunches and heading out in the early morning to face the day.
I reached for my cell phone and called my son to wake him up in the next room. (Hey no use letting all that technology go to waste.) I then called my daughter downstairs but she didn't answer so I reluctantly climbed out of bed and shuffled my way downstairs to her room. The usual routine was definitely under way, it seemed.
I stopped by my youngest daughter's room to awaken her and then headed back to the kitchen to start the morning lunch making process. Lunch boxes out. Baggies out. Chips, cookies, bread, ham, cheese, mustard, juice, ditto.
By the time I had the lunches assembled the older kids were already dressed and their friends were  showing up at the door. I took a moment to get myself dressed and grabbed my camera for those all too important back to school shots .
The older kids were horsing around on the front porch, unusual for them to get along so well, but this morning they had something in common. They were both going to be in high school this year and they were heading out early so the junior could give the freshman a tour of the campus before it all started.
I finished the shots and headed back in to make sure my youngest was actually out of bed. She was alert and ready to go. Her backpack had been ready and clothes had been picked out for two days. She grabbed a breakfast bar and I helped her with her hair and then she too was on the porch for the snapshots. We got in the car and headed out for school which was only a few blocks away. As she exited the vehicle I leaned out the window and got one last shot of her entering the building for her first day of sixth grade.
I came back home and entered the very quiet house. There was no sound. No slamming doors, no running feet, no loud voices. No M-O-O-OMMM!(s) no MO-ther!(s) no Hey, momsies? Just the hum of the fridge and the sound of the garbage man grinding his gears as he rode past the house.
I stood looking out the kitchen window at the still bright summer sky and thinking about how fast things change. Before I am ready for it the leaves will be turning and dropping off the trees and another winter will be upon us. Before I am ready for it my kids will be grown and gone and setting out on their own adventures leaving me with only 4x6 snaps to remember this day.
I turned away from the window to head up to my room. As I looked down on the floor I spied two red monkeys that escaped from the barrel and ended up on the kitchen floor. I smiled as I went on my way. Escaping TOYS. Maybe time isn't moving so fast, after all.

Prom

My baby is beautiful.

A Toast

I reached up and grabbed the bagels from their place on top of the fridge and on the way down reached in and grabbed my favorite cream cheese spread. I popped the bread into the toaster and tried to push the handle down, but both it and the bread just popped back up. On this particular model it has to be plugged in for the handle to stay down, so I reached over and grabbed the cord, thinking that would solve the problem. However, to my consternation, the cord was already plugged in. I pushed the lever up and down a couple of times, just to make sure it wasn't operator error. It wasn't. The toaster was dead. I stifled a sigh of irritation and just ate the bagel untoasted. As I munched, I remembered that I had an old toaster out in the storage shed. I wasn't sure it would still work, but decided, when I had a free moment I would see if I could find it.
I went out to the shed, and contemplated where I would be if I was a toaster. I rummaged among the seventeen years of junk I had piled up in there, and quickly located it.
I brought it in the house and began to clean it up and to reflect on how fast time speeds by. The memories related to this old toaster began to play in my mind as I applied a scrubber, some bleach and an old dishtowel to get it clean enough to toast bread in.
We had acquired the toaster on our wedding day, seventeen years ago this spring. We sat together in front of our families and friends and opened the gifts they brought us, he in his brand new sailor whites, and me in the dress made by my grandmother in 1959 for my aunt, and borrowed for this occasion.
It didn't stand out among the gifts, this toaster, but it seems to be one of the only things still with us all these years later, other than a hand sewn quilt, from my grandmother, and the silverware given by my uncle Ollie, and two unbroken wedding plates.
I remembered the sharp pang of excitement felt then at the newness and uncertainty of everything.
Part of the newness included moving to a military base eight hours away from my nearest family. I set up my new home with the pride of a brand new housewife, and set the toaster in a place of honor next to the sink under the window.
As I cleaned I looked for the crack that stretched all the way across the handle. Aah, there it was. One day not too long after getting married, we accidentally locked ourselves out of the house, and my new husband, climbing in the kitchen window to let us in, stepped on it and cracked it. I was upset, to say the least, that one of my new wedding gifts had now been damaged.
Then came the new baby and lots of midnight toast, along with dirty diapers, bottles, tiny little lacy dresses and much love for the little one that changed our lives.
The toaster served us toast for probably ten years before I retired it to the storage shed and replaced it with a sleeker, newer model. Since then I have been through at least two toasters. They had both been chrome and nickel respectively, with black trim and each time I thought they would last a lifetime, or at least more than a couple of years.
The old white toaster, I reflected, was kind of like my marriage. A little beat up, not as shiny as it used to be, even a little yellow with age, and little rusty in a few places, but when I plugged it in there was no doubt that it still worked.
Feeling foolishly sentimental, I pumped the handle up and down a few times. I felt ridiculous. Who gets teary over a toaster?
But I couldn't help thinking about how fast the time has gone by. That little baby goes to get her driver's permit tomorrow. Now days our conversations with her center around college and career choices and SATees.
Who wouldn't get a little worked up?

Your Love Broke Through

The music takes me back. I'm forty years old, but in my mind I'm ten years old again, and laying on the orange carpet listening to Auntie Kathy play the piano. It's 1978 and the music she is playing is Keith Green. I don't know it yet, but the melodies will be with me for the rest of my life. The music wrapped itself around the four of us, the three kids, and my aunt, and created a bond that has yet to be broken. We have had many disagreements, but the one thing we have never disagreed on is that music. It was real. Down to Earth. It reached out to where we were and picked us up, and took us to another level. It told us there was a life to be lived. It spoke of hope, and peace, and healing. Things I desperately needed were offered. I reached out and took the offering, and it changed my life.

Many years later, after we were all grown up and married, my aunt decided to give the piano to my youngest sister. The only hitch was, that my aunt lived in Texas, and my sister lived in Arizona. My middle sister, Heather had a moving van, and had volunteered to bring it to her, since her new home was now close to my youngest sister's house.  Heather's husband, Ian, Heather, myself, and Auntie Kathy spent three hours moving the piano from Auntie Kathy's front porch out to the moving van, over broken sidewalk, mud, and grass. It was a monumental effort. After we got it in, everyone piled in the car, and we all went to my house, to spend the night.
The next morning, Heather and Ian loaded up their car, and prepared to head to Arizona, to drop off the piano at my sister's house, and then head to their new home. After everything was loaded we persuaded Auntie Kathy to climb up in the back of the van  and play us some music. She began to play. It was Keith Green. As the sound flowed around us and down the quiet street, we were overcome with emotion, and Heather and I stood in the street with tears flowing down our faces. The music was so haunting, taking us back to our strife ridden childhood and the peace found, laying there on the orange carpet. There was an overwhelming feeling was that this was the last time we would ever hear the sound of Auntie playing her piano. Other pianos were not the same. It was this piano, this music that had embedded itself inside of us, and become a physical part of our flesh and blood.
So tonight, on a whim, I got on Youtube, and typed in Keith Green. Out of the speakers began to flow the music of my childhood. Everything around me fades...Back, back, back I go, to a time before kids, before marriage, before the house, before the cares of growing up consumed me...