Getting Ancy

I am about 2 1/2 weeks away from spending 6 nights away from my little one and the anticipation and anxiety surrounding that thought just builds and builds as each day goes by, tick-tock. I have never been away from him for that long, longest has been two nights. I shouldn't freak out too much since he will be with the Husband the whole time, but I am freaking out a little more inside everyday.

This is the constant battle in my head, what do I miss when I am not there vs. would I be the best mom every day if I were staying at home? I don't know what I am thinking, it isn't like he is going to find a cure for cancer while I am out in the middle of nowhere with 560 college students. But, it is more than about what he is doing. I wonder if he is missing out on something as a child because I work or because I am not with him 99% of the time. Is he going to turn out "wrong" because I am not there with him? Now, he seems fine, but am I setting him up for a disasterous, resentful life down the road. Will I every here from someone, someday, "Well, if you were at home with the Boy..."

I haven't heard that yet, and the Boy seems to be very well adjusted, happy and in my opinion smart, but the thought just eats at me. I know many working moms...not too many since the move to be closer to friends and family, but a few and their kids of all ages are turning out fine. This trip is part of my job, a job that I like overall. Everyone keeps telling me the time will fly by, the Boy will hardly notice. He may not notice, but I do.

Bedtime Interruptions

After the Boy has been down for 15 minutes last night...

Crying ensues from the bedroom.
Momma: What's wrong?
The Boy: (thru tears) My monkey....his tags are bother him.

Clarification: The Boy has become slightly obsessed with a finger puppet stuffed monkey from Pottery Barn Kids. He is only about 5 inches in length, but had 3 tags, each about 1 inch long. He received the monkey as part of his Easter basket two years ago. Only recently has he started sleeping with it. The Boy has also recently become obsessed with the tags of his own clothing. All tags must be removed from pjs or he won't sleep. The obsessions became merged.

Momma: Okay, I will cut them off.
The Boy: Be very careful.
Momma: Okay, I will bring him right back.

I return with monkey detagged, sleep ensued.

Lakeside Delight

The Husband's Aunt has a lakehouse. A great treat for us every summer is being invited to spend some time on top of a knob looking down at the lake, taking in the country air and just being. We were orignially invited to go to the lake in June, but the trip was cancelled at the last minute, much to our dismay. Needless to say, we, as an entire family, were very much looking forward to the trip.

The morning of the trip, the Boy comes to me and says, "Momma, my ear hurts, can I have a smoothie?" So I ask him, "Does your ear really hurt, or do you just want a smoothie?" No response. But, the Boy begins to walk around with his hand holding his right ear. Again, "Momma, my ear hurts, can I have a smoothie?" In reading this, you might draw the conclusion that in order for my son to eat, he has to be hurt. This is not at all true. I am not sure where he got this notion. I hope he is not already learning to placate his hurtness (I know that is not really a word) with food. Food, as we all know, does not fix anything.

I tell the Boy, "Sweetie, you can have a smoothie even if your ear doesn't hurt." He replies, "Okay, my ear hurts." So, I do what any good mom does (or what any fearful mom aka me does), I call the pediatrician's office on a Saturday. I relay my story, minus the smoothie request, to the receptionist and then the nurse. The nurse says, "How quickly can you be here?" And, we are out the door....after we make a smoothie of course.

We pack up the car for our trip to the lake as well. We get to the doctor's office and feel silly. The Boy never acts sick...no fever, no irritability, etc., etc. The nurse asks all questions regarding his "symptoms" and all I can say is he told me his ear hurts. The nurse of course rolls her eyes a little and I know she is thinking what two year old can tell you his ear hurts and really understand that his ear hurts.

The Doctor comes in, checks the Boy's ears and sure enough, the right ear is infected. Glad the Boy told use...how else would we have known?

We went to the lake anyway. No swimming in the water, but the boat ride was fantastic. The weather was perfect and the company was amazing. Our family is very blessed to have such wonderful people in our lives who are not really a part of our family. The Husbands "Aunt" Donna isn't really his aunt anymore, but she loves us, and she loves the Boy like he is her own. We definitely need that when most of our true family are not frequent visitors in our lives. A simple weekend at the lake calms us, makes us reflective and refreshes us before our week back in the real world. Who doesn't need that?

Your Ears Are Perfect

Last night while reading a book about baby animals....

Momma: What animal says moo?
The Boy (pointing): The cow.
Momma: Which one hops?
The Boy: The bunny.
Momma: Which one has big ears?
The Boy: Me.
Momma: Who told you you have big ears?
The Boy: Me.

His ears are perfect.

Public Displays of Craziness

Last Friday, I was in Target shopping (not sure for what I was shopping for, I just love Target) and was witness to an unfortunate incident that makes me question being part of the human race. It saddens me to think that mindsets like the following still exist and this display made me question if I think any of these things in my mind, but do not say them out loud which is just as bad.

I was looking through some toys trying to find something fun for a birthday present when a women and a grade schooler pushed by me shouting someone's name. I didn't think anything of it except that she didn't say excuse me as she pushed me out of the way. No big deal, since that happens all the time...shouldn't be acceptable, but I have gotten used to it and can't say for sure that I have never done it.

I get to the end of the long aisle...over by the food products section of the store and see a group of folks, Target Associates included, swarming a women holding a 3 year old. Now, in order to make the story more real for you, you have to know that the 3 year old was African American and the woman holding him was an older white woman. The Target Associates where on their walkie talkies saying they had a guest with a lost child. I put two and two together and mentioned that I saw a women in the toy section calling for someone, that woman is most likely the little boy's mother. Well, the boy and his mom are reunited. She hugs him and they start to go about their business. Here's where it gets a little ridiculous.

The older woman who found the child begins to publicly, after following the family through to front of the store, in the middle of the health and beauty aisle of Target, berate this young mom's parenting skills. She tells the young mom that she should take a parenting class and learn to watch her children. The young mom says, "Mind your own business." The older woman, "I would if I didn't have to watch out for your kid." The young mom, "I don't care, mind your %*$& business."

At this point, in front the the kids and everything, these women are in each other's face yelling at each other. The older woman makes many comments that are out of line as does the young mom. Everyone in the store is aware of their differences (ie, the color of their skin) and that they are not afraid of each other because they keep repeating "I'm not scared of you, bring it on." Finally they start to walk away from each other and the older woman (and her daughter) yell toward the young mom and her kids, "Trash!" As I walk toward the check out, I hear the young mom berating her 3 year old for walking away. She says, "You make white folks think they can tell us how to do things. You just wait until we get home."

I can say that I was honestly mortified by all the above behavior. As a mom, I would never approach someone to tell them how to parent in this situation. The older woman had no idea how the family became separated. The mom was looking for the little boy, she wasn't oblivious that he was not with her. Was it maybe not the best situation for her to be in, yes. Could someone have snatched that little boy, yes. But, that is not what happened. The other thing I don't understand is why race was brought into the situation. Any person, no matter their background, could have been in this situation. And, because race was brought into the equation, those two little boys will remember this situation as a race related incident and will have a jaded view of white women. And, the older woman has already instills this value system on to her children as was exhibited by the women's daughter joining in on the craziness. This is an example of how the troubles with race relations in this country are perpetuated. Both women are at fault. The entire situation keeps it real for me. It keeps my stereotypes and opinions in check. It helps me process how I should be behaving in front of my young son in public and behind closed doors.

Still crazy though!

Signs of Degeneration

I have recenlty discovered what I can only identify as an age spot on my hand. There it sits inbetween by thumb and pointer finger of my left hand staring at me as I type. I know I just recently turned 30, but isn't it a little early to be seeing age spots? That coupled with the premature graying of my hair make me wonder if I am aging too quickly in a purely cosmetic sense.

I have come to the realization recently though that I don't feel old exactly in mind and spirit. I don't see a whole lot different about me now versus when I was 23 and newly married. I have also come to realize that I am happy to be where I am now compared to other stages in my life. I have found that marriage and motherhood suit me and make me feel comfortable with myself and my life choices and experiences. I have a better understanding of my values, my faith and what I believe. That makes me happy.

I have also come to realize even though I sometimes feel like life is going by so slow, there are days when it goes by fast and my time with my friends and family is limited. You don't think about it when you are in your late 20s and early 30s, but as my preacher in Dallas used to say, growing old is just the slowest way to die. I have learned in the last year or so that your life can change in a blink of an eye, and now, I think about that daily. It makes me ask myself what I have done today that makes a difference. Some days I don't have a real good answer, but most days I do. And those "make a difference" moments aren't by anyone's standard monumental, but they matter to me and to those with whom I interact. Am I being a good friend, mother, wife...do I try to make someone's day everyday? When I am old and whithered (God willing) will I look back at my life and say, "Wow, what an accomplishment!" Today, I think so.

A Laugh A Day

Being a parent is exhausting sometimes, but I can honestly say that I laugh hard everyday because of something that my young ones says. It amazes me everyday how fast the Boy picks things up and how quickly his mind works. This quickness also reminds me daily that I need to be careful what I say around him and how I say it. We haven't had any craziness in this area yet, but I know I am going to slip.

Last night, prior to going back into work at 7:30 PM, I was playing with the Boy downstairs. He has a fascination with baseball right now and enjoys hitting a ball with the bat. Last night, he attempted to pick up a ball out of his ball pit while holding his bat. This was a task that proved to be a little difficult to manage as his hands were full. He looked up and me and his daddy and in his most serious voice said, "I need another hand." I don't know if it was just because I hadn't laughed a lot that day or what, but I thought it was the funniest thing I have heard for a while. I laughed very loudly and the Boy followed suit. I am not sure if he knew why we were laughing, but if he would have asked me, I would have said, "Casagande."

Casagande

A new word has entered the Family Dictionary...casagande and it may seem so, but it isn't Spanish. The Boy has made up this word. He uses it in response to questions he doesn't know the answer to or in resposne to questions he doesn't want to answer. A couple examples:

Me: Why don't you want to stay in your bed?
The Boy:Casagande
Me: Why is that over there?
The Boy: Casagande

I asked The Boy what casagande means and he says it means casagande. Now I know.

A Independence Day Celebration

Yesterday was July 4th, I love summer holidays. And, although it rained yesterday, it still seemed like the perfect day. Our family had the pleasure of being invited to a little get together down the road. This house we went to is one The Husband and I have been going to since before marriage. I have been going there for even longer than that. We have lots of memories that revolve around this house...good food, good friends, laughs and tears. I know I am making it sound like it is the house that causes all this, but in reality it is the people. Our friends who are now, I think, a part of our family.

Our small circle of college friends became adults together. It is nice to go somewhere and to be able to see most everyone who is a part of that circle. The most enlightening thing is that most of us have kids now. We are watching and helping each other as our children grow up together. We have seen each other go through life changes, disappointments and celebrations. It gives me such a feeling of happiness and contentment when I spent time with these friends. Our children get to see what good friendship should be like. I know that no matter what happens we will always be there for each other. I like that feeling.