Does your family take walks together? What do they look like? Do you stroll leisurely with attentive kids and a cheerful baby, as your dogs heel obediently at your side…everyone arm-in-arm, chatting merrily and catching up on the events of the day? Us too.
Family, what are you thankful for today?
Highlights from this week:
Playdate!
Me too, playdate!
Da-Da (Smiley really did say this when it was his turn!)
Me too, Daddy
Me three, Daddy
Dad coming home tomorrow
Spring break is here
A great walk with the dogs
Grandma coming tomorrow
The crazy wind cleaning up the leaves on the deck
Kite festival
Quiet as a ninja
Is he proud of himself or what??
Next stop…the ER?
Sometimes the growth spurts are so incremental you can’t see them until they are long gone. The height chart hanging from the back of the door tells you how many inches she has grown. The artwork tucked away shows you how elaborate and exact her drawings have become. The school conferences remind you of goals and milestones and how far she has surpassed them. It’s the kind of growth that you expect to see as a parent…bit by bit and so gradual that only hindsight tells the full story.
But lately, my 7-year-old Doodlebug has been growing right before my eyes. I am standing back with awe and watching her evolve. I find myself in a Charlie Kaufman-esque movie, watching myself watch her, while the scenery and storyline swirl around in familiar yet complex layers.
Scene One:
The child is no longer reading; she is submerging. She is diving under for hours at a time, coming up only occasionally for air or to squabble with her brother. She curls up on the sofa, tunes out the chaos and immerses herself in the world of wizard kittens or pioneer chores or magical peaches.
She carries a book with her always and reads every free moment. Our nightly rituals have always involved books, but now they fill every second except the shower. This means that during the five minutes of hairdrying she is too absorbed to complain about the tugging and detangling. So as usual I dry her hair and brush it smooth and shiny. “Chin up, Doodle,” I say repeatedly. She obliges briefly but immediately drops her nose back in the book. Finally I wise up and say, “Try holding the book up.”
Scene Two:
It is another night, much later than the last. I am just getting into bed when I hear a door open down the hallway. I hold my breath, feigning sleep. I can see her brother’s room through an angled closet mirror so I know it must be Doodlebug. Another door opens, a toilet flushes, water splashes in the sink, then a door closes. The light never turns on and she presumably tucks herself back in bed. Yes, she is 7 years old and quite capable, but it was not so long ago that any night waking required some parental attention: an extra set of hugs and kisses, the nightlight back on, a glass of “Dad’s coldest water.” But tonight she needed nothing and I lie in bed with a little lump in my throat, thinking about how many of these lumps I’ve known and how many more are still to come.
Scene Three:
We are at a rollerskating birthday party and it’s her first time ever to skate. She has been nervous all week. Does everyone else know how to skate? Will it be crowded? Will you please please stay? Will you skate with me? I made babysitter arrangements for both boys and agree to don some skates with her. It had been awhile for me, but what’s not to love about a skating rink that hasn’t changed at all in 25 years?
We skate together for maybe 20 minutes…holding hands, then side-by-side, and finally making daisy chains with several of her friends. She is soon confident enough to scoot along ahead of me, and I am soon awkward enough to find a seat near the purses and sneakers.
Before I know it, I glance up from my post and see Doodlebug at the far end of the rink skating alongside a sweet boy from her class. Their backs are to me, but their bodies tell me they are talking and laughing with ease.
This is the daughter who couldn’t bear to go to the party by herself, who hates to go to any party by herself. Who spent her preschool years sitting in my lap at many gatherings, watching happily from afar. Who still insists we walk her to her first-grade classroom every morning so she can get One Last Hug before she cheerfully says goodbye.
And now, here she is under a giant disco ball, skating along with a crew-cut boy to Debbie Gibson’s “I Think We’re Alone Now” as if she had been doing it her whole life.
And me, I am thinking that when I became old enough to have my life pass before my eyes, I did not expect to be wearing neon-orange rollerskates.
The youngling is cute but much to learn he has…
A big brother you will not please if you use his lightsaber as a toilet brush.
Family, what are you thankful for today?
Highlights from this week:
Star Wars computer game
Chopsticks
Smiley learned to sign “more”
A nice family walk after the rain stopped
New hairdo
Our babysitter
Pizza Day at school
A lovely wedding (Our first Catholic wedding–all in Spanish!)
Big, fat raspberries
Little House on the Prairie books
So was it last night or the LAST night?
7:30pm
Final hugs and kisses for the kids and we are out the door, headed to a friend’s 40th birthday party. I’m feeling fabulous in my new top, even though I had to cut out the shoulder pads—I just can’t do them this time around!
7:45pm
I realize that the birthday card I had in my hand on the front porch never made it into the car. We’re not bringing a gift; we have to bring a card. We turn around, thinking it will be lying in our driveway. It’s not, so we drive on, only to find the card halfway down our block in the middle of the street crumbled up and adorned with tire tread across one side. Well at least it’s a guy’s birthday–he may not even notice!
8:05pm
We park then walk a couple blocks to the bar. On the way we spot the ginormous Girls Gone Wild truck emblazoned with provocative young breasts in lacy bras. Hubby asks me if I want him to take my photo in front of the truck. Downtown Austin may not be my scene anymore, but c’mon, I’m not that dorky.
8:10pm
The party is in full force and our friends are dancing, laughing and mostly keeping their drinks upright even as they bounce to the music. Woohoo!
9:00pm
Our lovely party hostess and I are gushing about the music, the lights, the energy!
“Why don’t we go out more??” she asks.
I know! Why don’t we?? I say. We SO should. Look at us—we are fun and fabulous!
Everyone spends the next two hours laughing and moving to 80s music (can you really call it dancing when the soundtrack is mostly AC/DC, Journey and the Scorpions?) Despite the fact that Wham, Prince and Michael Jackson never made an appearance, we all have a rollicking time.
10:00pm
I make a trip to the ladies room, where I stand side-by-side at the sink with some girls wearing skintight dresses that are shorter than my shirt. Mind you, I have on leggings with said shirt. Their sparkly dresses are what I like to call “stand-up dresses” because there’s absolutely no way you can get in a cab wearing one without sharing your sunshine. Even if these ladies weren’t also rockin some sequined mardi gras masks, I would still look exceedingly conservative. Staring at all of us in that mirror, I readjusted my leggings and snug tunic, and thought to myself, I could wear this outfit to church. Oh wait, I don’t go to church.
11:00pm
My internal time bomb starts ticking, so we say our goodbyes. Out on the street there are so many people! Everyone is dolled up. Look at all the people out so late at night, underneath the moon! Look at this whole world happening while I’m usually at home in bed or sitting at the computer as I am now. I once inhabited this nocturnal, festive world, but it’s a foreign country now. It is another planet altogether.
11:30pm
I pay the babysitter $60, four times the amount I spent on drinks tonight. To be perfectly accurate, I actually say goodbye to my sitter without paying her a cent. That last half beer pushed me over the edge and I completely flake on her. I text her (because I know she is just now hitting the bars) and leave a check for her in our mailbox.
Midnight
My ears are still ringing as my head hits the pillow in a happy haze. So glad I don’t have to set the alarm tomorrow. I will probably not even hear Hubby get up. Please please please sleep in my darlings.
1:00am
The babe, Smiley, wakes up and is inconsolable until I go in and soothe him. 30 minutes later I am back in bed.
2:30am
Rascal appears at my bedside. “I throwed up in bed. I couldn’t make it to the bathroom, so I throwed up in the bed.” Luckily vomit does not make him hysterical or tearful (wish I could say the same thing about myself). Hubby helps him change clothes and wash up while I change his bed. The sheets are covered in carnage and I’m unfortunately able to identify every single thing he ate in the last 12 hours.
Once Rascal is tucked back into a clean bed, we rinse out the sheets in the bathtub (they are that disgusting) and throw them in the washing machine. If I am even remotely hungover come morning, the last thing I will want to smell is someone else’s puke.
3:00am
Back to bed.
6:00am
Who was I kidding? Sleeping in is simply not in my children’s genes. Hubby, who leaves the drinking to me, has left early for a bike race and I am left to dole out frozen waffles and Star Wars cartoons.
Smiley insists on acting his age, which means attempting to climb the stairs carrying scissors. Guess I won’t be dozing on the couch, trying to rehydrate from the evening’s fun, now will I?
Was it really just nine hours ago that my sweet friend asked me such a simple question?
Why don’t we go out any more??
Family, what are you thankful for today?
Highlights from this week:
Family al fresco lunch
A sunny day at the park
Water party in our backyard
Having the O’ Henry fields to ourselves
My drawing of a vulture droid
Big fat snowflakes!
I emptied my inbox
A conversation with a new friend
A conversation with an old friend
Cookies
A 3-hour nap
Oooh, I’m cleaning out my jungle of a desk and just found this quote. Love it!
“I beg you…to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don’t search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer…”
~Rainer Maria Rilke
