Just Letting It Be

I have loved Kevin for as long as I can remember. I know people talk about falling in love and falling out of love and everything, but I don't think I know what that means. I don't remember an instant when it smacked me over the head and I was helpless to his charms or anything...and so I don't believe in the possibility that I could wake up one day and find that my feelings from the last 20 years of my life have vanished, either. I realize it all started out as 13-year-old girl's crush, but eventually I stopped focusing on the cute boy on the basketball court and began to consider the man he would become. I started thinking about what kind of husband he might be someday, and what kind of father he could be. I knew he would teach them to fish when they were old enough. I imagined he would teach them to shoot, both guns and basketballs. I was right about all of that. He also teaches them about animals and gardening and building things. He manages to teach them about responsibility and fun all at once. You can choose a person to be with for the rest of your life, and you can think you know they will be a good dad, but really, you have to hope they pan out as a parent. I mean, how can you really know for sure until those babies come along?

In honor of Father's Day, I can honestly tell you now...he is pretty great at it. Maybe he could have changed more diapers. Maybe he could have elected not to teach Jaron to ride his bike with no hands. Nobody is perfect. When our kids bring their broken bikes to him, he fixes them. When he is leaving, and they want to go with him, he takes them. When they cry, he comforts them. When they want to snuggle with him to fall asleep, he lets them. He praises and encourages, and when it works out he is always proud of their accomplishments. I think he has all the important stuff down. I'm just saying, I think love worked out for me. Not falling in it or out of it. Just letting it be.

What Sisters Do

When I was a kid, I thought all sisters kind of looked out for each other. I thought all sisters would be glad to spend some time together. I have been rudely awakened by people over the years who can barely stand to be around their sister. I know people who dread the holidays and only hope to get through them without some type of family feud. I hope they are the exception, and not the rule. Why don't they know what sisters do? I think about my sister a lot as I watch my daughters' relationship develop. I love how much Madison has always been devoted to her baby sister, and as Megan gets older, I love to see how much she loves her Sissy. She is Madison's biggest fan. I remember that, because I am the little sister. I was the biggest fan. I was the one who wanted to do everything like my cool big sister did. I have learned over time that I am not going to be just like her, because we are different in a lot of ways. My eyes are brown, hers are blue. I can't draw a stick figure, and she teaches art. Those differences make things more fun and interesting, I cannot see how differences in the people we are could divide us. Today, in honor of my only sister's birthday, I would like to tell you about what sisters do.

Big sisters:
Teach you how to do a cartwheel
Fix your hair for prom, and occasionally on school picture day
Play "I'm going on a trip.." as you fall asleep
Cry when your boyfriend is stupid
Haul their babies around in the evenings to watch your ball games
Follow your baby from the operating room to the nursery at the hospital, with a video camera, so nobody gets switched at birth, and you can enjoy those moments that happened while you were in recovery
Clean your house the day you bring that baby home from the hospital
Love your children
Help you in raising those children (with advice, planning, babysitting, etc.)
Share in your triumphs...and your sorrows
Give you nephews to love
Call you for all the big reasons, and the little ones, too

Little sisters:
Look up to their big sister

My Place

So my house is small, and it is somewhere around a hundred years old. Sometimes I feel dissatisfied with it, and I think I need a new one. I see beautiful, new homes everywhere I go. Maybe we will do that someday. My new house will have an open floor plan. A nice, big space for birthday parties. It will have more storage, more open space, and another bathroom. The laundry room will be right off of the bathroom, too. That just makes so much sense to me. It is fun to think about sometimes. Kevin and I are a pretty good construction team, actually. I know we could do that, build a house, but most of the time I don't really think we need to do that. I mean, when I sit on the swing in my front yard, I feel the grass under my feet, and I see this:We have a garden in the back yard. I hope to fill the pantry with potatoes, green beans, and tomatoes this summer, if we can keep it weeded, like this: We have three little people who love to ride bikes, play catch, or run around back there, like this:Cattle graze peacefully in our pasture, and fish swim in our ponds. We have dogs and cats...and flowers. We don't have a stressful mortgage hanging over our heads. In the big picture, I can't say that I am dissatisfied with any of that. Old, new, large, or small, what does it really matter? The people inside (or outside) make it my place. This is where I work, play, praise, scold, worry, laugh, love, hope, and dream. Live. What else could I possibly need?

Spa Day 2011

The idea to have a spa day birthday party was a fabulous one...and it was my sister's. Moms of boys have these amazing ideas, full of pink bows and ruffles and lace, or make up, curling irons, and nail polish. One by one, some of my favorite girls started offering to help out. Family and friends quickly volunteered to hostess, do nails, makeup, and hair. Spa Day kept growing and growing, and I have to say the end result was a day Madison and her friends will never forget, and a day I will always cherish.

Madison made her own cupcakes all by herself, because she is nine years old, after all. We went to Ma Judy's house, and decorated things with lots of hot pink. Her friends came over and all of the girls worked their way through our "stations." They got to get in the outdoor hot tub, they got their hair, nails, and makeup done, and Mom had fancy dresses for them to wear(including my senior prom dress). Some of the "big girls" got their hair and nails done as well. Lunch and cupcakes were served with pink lemonade, of course. Little girls felt like princesses. Madison told me on the way home that it was her best birthday ever. After the spa day was over, Kevin and I took the kids to Colton's to cap off the birthday celebration. She covered her pink cheeks as they banged on the pots and pans to get everyone's attention to announce her birthday in the middle of the restaurant.

The entire day was a scrapbook page just waiting to happen. Our family and friends pulled together to make Madison's ninth birthday special in a way that was absolutely inspiring. I am filled to my beautifully painted toes with gratitude to have so many people in my life who love and support my little family. To know Madison will continue growing up surrounded by this exquisite network of love and encouragement...I mean, it is all any mother can want for her child on her birthday, and all the days of her life.

Big Kid Road Trip

Today Megan left our home state for the first time. Kevin had to see a specialist. At 7:30 AM. On a Tuesday morning. We toyed with the idea of going the night before and getting a hotel room, but wouldn't you know Monday night was the first official night of summer ball, and of course Madison and Jaron both had a game. Same night. Same time. Different towns. So the boys went their way and we girls went our way and we compared notes afterwards. We decided that because we were leaving the house by 4 AM(and because Mom offered), the big kids could go home with Ma Judy following game night so they could ride to school with her the next morning, and maybe we could just take Megan along with us. Maybe she would sleep in the car and it would be no big deal to have a toddler in her car seat for seven hours in one day. It could happen.

I am kind of bad about thinking of Megan as my baby, even though she is trying to make sure I notice she is getting so over the whole baby thing. I changed her diaper in the dark, while she slept, and put the cutest little khaki capris on her. She looked like such a big kid. I pulled her from bed, still in her pajama shirt and wild hair, and took her, blankie in hand, straight to the car. As I fastened the harness she said, "I'm ti-red, Mommy. I'm ni-night." Her eyes stayed closed, and her lips stayed parted. Sometimes it looks so exhausting to be two years old. She did sleep the entire way to the doctor's office. At 7:30 I woke her up to finish getting her dressed and to let her eat breakfast. The doctor had a wonderful play room with blocks and Dr. Seuss books, so that is where Megan and I settled down while Kevin was evaluated. We tried everything in the room at least once. When I showed her the tower I made with Legos she squealed with delight and said, "Awesome, Mommy! Good job!" When did she learn awesome? When I took it apart to do something else she said, "Oh, no, Mommy! Good grief!" I might know where that came from. She showed me a triangle, circle, and square. She acted like such a big kid.

Afterward we took her to Cabela's. We were excited to show her all of the animal displays, and I expected her to point and say things like, "I see deer. I see fish. I see bears." I knew she would try to see everything all at once. That's the only part I got right. What she did say was, "Looky Mommy, the fishies are swimmin' in the water!" She said, "Looky, Mommy, those deer are climbin' on the mountain!" When we got to the bears that stan d ten feet tall on their hind feet, swatting at each other, she said, "Looky Mommy! The teddy bears are giving a hug!" Of course she repeated everything for Daddy as well, to be sure he also knew what was going on. She also said, "Mommy, let's go see the elfeet! Let's go see the elfeet!." Elfeet is Megan for elephant. Which I did not know until today. I was aware that she knows farm animals and animals we hunt and catch, but I did not imagine she had any idea what an elephant was.

After Cabela's, we went to the 54th Street Grill, where she sat up and ate her kids' meal, with lots of dip, like a big kid. And she rode the entire way back home without fussing. That whole thing about peacefully taking a toddler in the car most of the day? It happened. So here comes the epiphany. I think of Megan as my baby. It occurred to me that I don't expect enough from her. She is constantly exceeding my expectations. And showing me she is much more grown up that I might be ready for. I am constantly surprised when she looks like a big kid or she acts like a big kid or she speaks like a big kid, and today, for the first time, I am finally starting to recognize that maybe it is not that she is behaving like a big kid, but that she is becoming one.

Sigh.

Be Still, My Heart

We are a few months into piano lessons, and there is a piano in our home now. The piano teacher was excited when I called to tell her a lady at work had a Story & Clark piano she no longer wanted. When I told her she wanted to give it to us she exclaimed, "Be still, my heart!"

That's the funny thing about Madison learning to play the piano. I thought I would be excited about every onward and upward step she takes. I thought my heart would be leaping out of my chest in anticipation of her performances. It doesn't really feel like that. When she was asked to play her recital piece for the school's Spring Fling I was nervous for her. When her eyes got round as they announced her name and I saw her head give the slightest shake left to right and back again, my stomach was absolutely in knots. Watching her cross the floor to center court in front of the packed gymnasium and sit down at the piano, I could barely breathe. I was scared and excited and crazy proud and I wanted to be sure I did not miss a single note. My heart was still. And it ached with pride and love and wonder at her big kid abilities. I may as well tell you that I cried a little. Afterward, with red cheeks, she opted out of her curtsy and walked briskly back to her seat. The first thing she said to me was, "I. Was scared. To Death!" But she was smiling, and so was I. My child is beginning to accomplish things that I never did. She has her own strengths and talents and vulnerabilities. The front row is much more still sometimes than I thought it would be, but it is absolutely breathtaking.

Highlighting

As you may recall, I have always had sort of a soft spot for pianos. I have always wanted to be able to play, and have always planned on learning as an adult along with my children. While getting a piano has always been part of my long term plan, I got a keyboard for Madison for Christmas because a) our house is less than 1,000 square feet and there are five of us b) keyboards are much more affordable. I decided that if Madison loved her lessons, and we finally get that bigger home, then I would get a piano.

Well, a lady at work announced that she had a piano she would like to give away. She is buying a house that includes one, and she wants it to go to a loving home where it will be played. We continue to live in our small house. The piano has scratches. She found a spaghetti noodle stuck between two of the keys, demonstrating some obvious and blatant maltreatment. But it is a Story & Clark. Old English makes something for scratches. I did not hesitate. The most common question I am getting from those who know and love me is, "Where are you going to put it?" And that is the question.

I made a list of all of the furniture in my house. It was a long list for such a small space. I highlighted all of the furniture that I love. Grandad's table. Grandma's dresser. Kevin's grandmother's dresser. The kitchen table and chairs. Grandpa's end table. Beyond that, I found that I was surprisingly flexible. Because when considering what furniture I care about, I could easily see that the people who handed down this furniture matter the most. I got rid of my big, bulky computer desk that I gave $12.50 for at an auction. I mean I burned it. In a fire. Seriously, it felt like riding an intertube down a waterslide. It was THAT liberating. I got rid of a bench and moved my cedar chest next to the door to await its departure. Sometimes you have to sacrifice something to get something. Everything cannot fit into one little house or one little life. Whether discussing furniture, people, or activities, we simply cannot fit everything in, and eventually decisions have to be made. Highlight or remove. A treasure or clutter. Quantity of stuff or quality of relationships. Peter Walsh would be so proud of me.

So I did what you do when something matters. When someone matters. I made room. I prepared a place. I have been looking closely around my small house and at the things I choose to keep here, and I am confident there will be more things that can go. I am also certain that when the piano makes it to my list this weekend, it will be highlighted.