Tears For Grad

My friends, Paul and Jo have an incredibly cute and beautiful four month old baby who I had the pleasure of holding the other day. Adam loves his soother and at 4 months is showing signs of incredible brilliance. He is able to reach and grasp his toys and can hold his head up like no other kid his age. His smile is enough to cheer up even the saddest and most discouraged person.

Compared to me, Adam cries alot. He cries when he's hungry, bored, sick, tired, when he has cramps or needs a diaper change. He is smart enough to know that he needs attention and is able to get it from someone. His preferred method of letting people know his needs is by his crying.

I on the other hand, do not cry for the same reasons Adam cries. My tears are most often the result of some strong emotion I'm experiencing. When each of my children were born, I experienced incredible pain and discomfort during the labour and birthing process. I will not go into detail about that whole thing but the nurses and doctors told me I "did well." (I know, they probably say that to everyone but believe me, I needed to hear that!) But through all of that, I shed no tears. Indeed, the waterworks started as soon as I heard my baby's first sound. There is no sweeter sound and I have had the pleasure of hearing it 4 times in my life.

Today, tears come fairly easy to me. I cried tears of joy when Ben and Carolyn got married. I cry when I watch the news or hear of some horrible event that has occurred. I don't need to know the people involved but I can empathize with them. I cry whenever I hear the national anthem played. I cry at the Remembrance Day ceremony every year.

Tonight, I will attend Tim's Grade 12 Graduation ceremony and just thinking about it gets me teary eyed. We have been involved with his school for more than 25 years as I began my teaching career there in 1979. So this graduation has a lot of meaning for me. We will see Tim and the amazing group of young people who compromise his class standing together for the last time. Most have big plans-travel, mission work, university, college and it is likely that Tim may never see some of them again.

It is a small school and there are only 27 people in this graduating class. Tim, along with 4 or 5 others have been together, in the same class for 13 years, since kindergarten. For some people, (Kristen included) this seems somewhat stifling and they would prefer to be in a larger school, meeting new people. Not for Tim. When they decided to begin a high school the year he was entering Grade 10, he decided to stay along with about half of his class.

It hasn't always been easy for Tim at that school. As a matter of fact, grades 3-8 were really tough for him socially. The way he learned how to survive in school was by staying away from his classmates and not communicating with them. If he had the option of working on a group project or working alone, he would always choose to do it alone. He would never join in the joking and bantering with his classmates. He'd either hang out with the teachers or he would hang out alone. I stopped attending field trips and helping out at school because seeing Tim as a loner, broke my heart. This was not my son! I knew him as a goofy, noisy, extroverted and fun kid. We seriously considered home schooling him on a number of occasions.

But for whatever reasons, we decided to stick it out. And I am so grateful that we did. Grades 10-12 saw him grow in stature, (they call him the big man on campus) in self confidence, in wisdom and in knowledge. He has also matured spiritually. Much of that growth is a result, I believe of sticking it out. Tremendous healing has taken place in Tim's life. I think that if we had changed schools, or decided to home school, this healing may have never occured and we would have left the school with broken relationships and unfinished business.

I believe that Tim and we his parents have grown tremendously as a result of all that has happened. We have learned that there is freedom in forgiveness, that people change and that healing can take place where there once was pain. We have had the opportunity to give and receive grace and acceptance. We have worked with the teachers and principal and learned that they really do care about all aspects of Tim's education, including his relationships with his peers. We have worked through the pain and discovered incredible joy at the end of this part of the journey.

So, tonight I will be shedding tears of joy, thanksgiving and gratitude. Tim will be singing a beautiful song that has become something of a theme song for the class and I will remember where he came from, where he is today and where he is going.

My Beautiful Girl

Here she is! Two of my favourite pics of Kristen, at 2 and at 16. I'm so glad that I'm finally able to post pictures! Stay tuned for more of my faves.

Wide Awake in Winnipeg

It's 5:22 AM and I have been up for 2 hours and 10 minutes.

What do you do when you can't sleep at night? All suggestions will be considered.

Mother and Daughter

I read this on a website today:

1. Conception: A fetus is conceived
2. Birth: A baby girl is born
3. Infancy: The daughter fixates on her mother
4. Childhood: Mother teaches daughter how to be female
5. Adolescence: Daughter pushes away from mother to find independence
6. Partnership: Daughter selects and attracts a partner
7. Motherhood: Daughter becomes pregnant and gives birth

We are definitely at stage #5 in our house. Raising a daughter has brought on a whole new meaning of parenting for me. It is, so far, the most challenging stage. My own insecurities as a parent are constantly finding their way into my consciousness. Have I taught her well? Will the morals and beliefs that she has seen in my life influence the decisions she is making? Does she know I love her? Have I taught her "how to be female?"

How can a mother teach her daughter how to be female when the lessons she herself learned were unacceptable? In my day, I learned that women were either "doormats" or "sex objects." I learned that the most important thing was to be liked by others. It was hard to know where I fit into this belief system.

So I taught my daughter to not let a man dictate who she was and to be able to take care of herself. She learned a very important lesson from her dad too and that was to not allow "the acceptance of others" influence her actions. I guess that's what you call independence. Unfortunately, she is practising the very things I have attempted to teach her and I DON'T LIKE IT! I long for the days when we could cuddle on the couch and read stories, when I could put her to bed and say her prayers, and when I was the first person she turned to for advice or comfort. I long for the days when I really knew what was best for her and most often could convince her of that. And if she couldn't be convinced, I would just make her do what I needed her to do because I was bigger than her. Back then, it was easier to know what was best.

Today, I just don't know. She's become wise and often, when she pushes against the boundaries, I don't know what to do or say. If I don't have a good reason, it's hard for me to argue. "Because I just don't feel comfortable with it" is not a good enough answer for her. I want her to know that I trust her but so often, when those boundaries are tested and I fail to give permission, she assumes that I don't trust her.

Sometimes, I can make myself crazy worrying about all of this.

But today, a little gift. She came home for a couple of minutes to pick up her towel and a sandwich because she's going to the beach with a few friends. She looked cute, with her hair in pigtails. I was feeling a little blue about all of this stuff and she actually asked me if there was something wrong. Then she asked me what I was doing today. Finally, before she left, she hesitated at the door long enough for me to hug her and tell her that I loved her. I hold on to these brief moments of connection. They are pauses in our often stormy relationship, minute events that keep me loving her and reminding me that she's not a bad kid after all.

Happy Father's Day

I wondered how it happened that Father's Day came to be. The cynical part of me thought that it was probably instituted by Hallmark or maybe WalMart. But I was wrong.

Sonora Dodd, of Washington, first had the idea of a "father's day." She thought of the idea for Father's Day while listening to a Mother's Day sermon in 1909.

Sonora wanted a special day to honor her father, William Smart. Smart, who was a Civil War veteran, was widowed when his wife died while giving birth to their sixth child. Mr. Smart was left to raise the newborn and his other five children by himself on a rural farm in eastern Washington state.

After Sonora became an adult she realized the selflessness her father had shown in raising his children as a single parent. It was her father that made all the parental sacrifices and was, in the eyes of his daughter, a courageous, selfless, and loving man. Sonora's father was born in June, so she chose to hold the first Father's Day celebration in Spokane, Washington on the 19th of June, 1910.

President Calvin Coolidge, in 1924, supported the idea of a national Father's Day. Then in 1966 President Lyndon Johnson signed a presidential proclamation declaring the 3rd Sunday of June as Father's Day. President Richard Nixon signed the law which finally made it permanent in 1972.

That's a good story. I think that Sonora had the right idea and creating a day where she could acknowlege the selflessness of her dad was a generous, thoughtful, loving gesture.

I wonder what she would think of Father's Day in 2005?

The flyers that came to my door last week were full of "suggestions" for dad. Weeks before the big day we are reminded that it is coming and that we need to buy something for dad to show him our love. If we don't or can't afford to buy something, we can easily feel like selfish, ungrateful children.

I wonder what Sonora bought her dad for Father's day. I have a feeling that it wasn't a tool, a barbeque, shirt, new pants or golf clubs. I have a feeling that Father's day for Mr. Smart was a day where he experienced the love and appreciation of his children.

All my dad got from me for Father's day was a phone call. I don't send him cards because they are too sappy. We're not "like that."

I think that the only thing my dad really needs from me is love and acceptance and when I am reminded that I don't call often enough, I need to remember why he's saying that. It's because he wants to connect with me, even when we talk about the mundane things like weather, his garden and the volunteer work that he does.

There are scars in our relationship. But they are no longer open, painful, festering wounds. The passage of time has brought much healing. Sometimes though, my scars itch and burn, especially when I knock them on something harsh. And the ones where the nerves were cut never heal completely. Those kind always feel weird, especially when I bang them. At those times, I need to remember how far dad and I have come, I need to remember the pain and I need to let it go again.

She Still Needs Me!

Sometimes, we just have to let go of our principles for a little peace of mind.

As one of our compromises after a particularly hard week, we gave Kristen permission to buy a cell phone. I know. I know. My only excuse is that it was a compromise. It's a really cute lime green number and she loves it. The cell phone came in handy tonight when she called around 11:00 to ask Wes to pick her up at Perkins. I guess all of her plans for a great Saturday night fell to pieces when her friend had a HUGE FIGHT with her sister. They left the house and Kristen called home. I don't like the idea that they decided to walk the 2 kilometres to Perkins, at 10:30 at night but knowing she has the phone and is willing to use it gives me some peace of mind.

When I was a teenager, there were no such thing as cell phones. If we wanted to call home, we found a pay phone. How did our parents do it? Did they worry as much as I do? I used to drive all over the Niagara Penninsula, never thinking that mom and dad might be worried if I wasn't home by midnight.

Nowadays, it seems that everyone needs their own personal phone and I must say that I for one, sleep a lot better at night knowing that Kristen is just a phone call away. When she first got it she told me that I could call her any time I wanted. I responded by saying, "You don't want me calling you when you're hanging out with your friends." She then told me that everyone's mothers call them. As a matter of fact, the only calls that Jordan ever gets are from his mother.

Maybe these independent, *I don't need you mom* teens really do need us and want us. I was surprised when I learned that it is quite acceptable for a parent to call her daughter on a Saturday night when she's at a party. In the last few weeks, she's called me several times in the evening just to let me know that her plans are changing. I kind of like it and for me, it's the peace of mind I have now that makes me know it's good she's got her own phone.

Pupperware?

Before you read this, I must warn you that I am a pet tolerater, not a pet lover. I respect my friends who own dogs and who love them. I will pet your dog and even say "good doggie" to him or her. I understand that when a pet dies, real tears of sorrow are shed and I can empathize with you.

Having said all that, my philosopy on dogs is that they are animals, not people. They should be cared for and even loved. They should have their own bowls for food and water, they need to be played with, taken out for a walk and brought to the vet when necessary.

My friend ccap ranted about a $120.00 doggie bowl last month. Well my dear, I can do better than that! I was watching the CBC news last night (honestly!) and they had an interesting piece of information. It seems that Tupperware parties are being replaced with "Pupperware" parties. I kid you not.

Like Tupperware parties, the hostess of a Pupperware party will invite her animal loving friends and their beloved pets to her house. There, they will meet a consultant who will share with them all of the wonderful things you can buy for your doggie. These things include, canine cologne, breath fresheners, paw balm (for those dry and cracked paws) and more traditional doggie parapernelia-brushes, dishes and of course, the latest in doggie fashion.

Okay, I know that I am not a doggie lover but isn't this just a little extreme? The consultant makes about $200.00 profit in an evening which makes me wonder how much money people are shelling out to make their doggies look and smell good. The hostess also gets free items based on how much is sold in an evening.

And the doggies. It's bad enough for us humans to have to deal with "keeping up with the Joneses" but now our doggies need to keep up with the "Rovers." Not only are we humans reminded that what we have is never enough, we're hoisting our pets onto that bandwagon too. Does Lassie really want to have to take a bath and put ribbons in her hair so she can go out to a party? By 8:00 p.m., most doggies I know are ready for bed and would prefer to be dreaming of chasing rabbits rather than playing silly party games with their friends.

If I have offended my doggie loving friends out there, my apologies. I guess that not owning a pet makes it hard for me to understand this. Maybe I need to have a talk with Buddy my dog-nephew. He might be able to shed some light on this issue. I'll need to wait a few days though. He stinks so bad these days (long story) that I don't want to get too close to him.

Maybe I should buy him some cologne...

Two Days in a Row!

Heard this song on CBC this morning and it seemed like a good one to post today.

Good day sunshine
Good day sunshine
Good day sunshine

I need to laugh, and when the sun is out
I've got something I can laugh about
I feel good, in a special way
I'm in love and it's a sunny day

Good day sunshine
Good day sunshine
Good day sunshine

We take a walk, the sun is shining down
Burns my feet as they touch the ground

Good day sunshine
Good day sunshine
Good day sunshine

Then we lie beneath a shady tree
I love her and she's loving me
She feels good, she know she's looking fine
I'm so proud to know that she is mine

Good day sunshine...

10 Good Things About the Weather

I think BJ Thomas had it right...

Raindrops keep fallin' on my head
And just like the guy whose feet are too big for his bed
Nothin' seems to fit
Those raindrops are fallin' on my head, they keep fallin'

So I just did me some talkin' to the sun
And I said I didn't like the way he got things done
Sleepin' on the job
Those raindrops are fallin' on my head, they keep fallin'

But there's one thing I know
The blues they send to meet me won't defeat me
It won't be long till happiness steps up to greet me
Raindrops keep fallin' on my head
But that doesn't mean my eyes will soon be turnin' red
Cryin's not for me
'Cause I'm never gonna stop the rain by complainin..

Well, to quote another song, It's raining again...Today, I'm going to attempt to write a list of 10 good things about the rain. It's the only way I can keep from complainin'. Here goes.

10 Good Things About This Weather:

1. The Hostas in the front garden are looking beautiful and healthy.
2. I can hold off on painting the trim around the windows on the second storey of the house.
3. I don't need to wear a bathing suit yet.
4. We're saving a ton of money on sunscreen.
5. The mosquitoes are not a problem yet.
6. The kids studying for exams are not tempted to be outside.
7. I'm getting my money's worth out of my umbrella.
8. My rain barrel's all filled up so I'll have lots of water for my garden once the sun starts shining.
9. The water table's so high that there won't be restrictions on watering the lawn for many years to come. (I don't actually water my lawn but I'm sure there are people who will be happy about this.)
10. It's not snow.

The Interview Game

ccap has asked me five questions to respond to because I asked her. Here they are:

1) What is the one thing you regret not doing before you settled down into marriage and family?

I try not to dwell much on regrets because there's not much you can do about them but I must say that my biggest regret is that I didn't travel more. I hope to make up for that in a few years, when Kristen is out of high school.

2) If you and your sisters could do ANYTHING you wanted (without kid responsibilities) on a Saturday afternoon what would it be?

Twice a year there is a tour of Art Galleries in the Interlake. If we could do it in an afternoon, I think that would be perfect. Of course, we'd have to stop for a latte somewhere and also, end the afternoon with a great dinner. The weather would have to be perfect too-sun and no warmer than 23 degrees celcius.

3) Looking back and not being able to use the same names, what other names would you give your children?

I like the name Trevor but when I taught Juniour High, there was a Trevor in the grade 7 class and I did NOT want to be reminded of him. So Benjamin was the name of my first born. Eric would have been Nicholas if a friend of mine didn't name her son Nicholas when he was born a month before Eric. I wanted to name Tim "Spencer" but the rest of the family nixed that one and Tim's grateful :). Kristen could have been Corrine.

4) Who is your favourite female Bible character? Explain why.

Funny, I've never thought of that one. My favourite story is the one where a group of men bring a prostitute to Jesus and "ask" him what to do about her because their laws indicated that she must be stoned. The best part of the story is the end, when she is alone with Jesus and he simply tells her to stop sinning and-the best part-he doesn't condemn her. As for my favourite bible character, hmmm. I've just read Esther so I think that now, she would be my favourite. One of the main reasons I respect her is that she acted so selflessly. She could have kept the fact that she was a Jew hidden, but she chose not to and risked her life to save her people. Also, the fact that she was a woman who had so much influence (when women at the time were considered little more valuable than property) makes me want to say "You go girl!" She had courage and wisdom during a time in history when neither characteristic was encouraged especially in women. There are some really funny parts to that story too. When Queen Vashti refused to "dance" for the king and the other partiers (trans.-strip) those men were really worried that all of the women in the kingdom would begin disobeying their husbands so they had to pass a law that decreed that women should obey their husbands. Those guys must have been really worried! Makes me wonder just how much of our history was influenced by women.

5) If you could avoid one household chore for the rest of your life which would it be and why?

I'd have to say tidying up. I HATE tidying up because I do it ALL THE TIME and my place still looks cluttered.

Here are the rules of "The Official Interview Game."

1. If you want to participate, leave a comment saying "interview me." (Make sure I have your email address.)

2. I will respond by asking you five questions - each person's will be different.

3. You will update your journal/blog with the answers to the questions.

4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview others in the same post.

5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions

A Visit to the Doctor

I've been trying to figure out why I feel so depressed today. The weather's been cool, cloudy and grey but usually that doesn't affect my mood. I have a great family, amazing friends and plenty to look forward to today but something's getting me down.

I wonder if it might have something to do with my doctor's appointment today. It's my yearly check up and when she asks me if I have any concerns about my health, I can honestly say no. I feel healthy and other than a few aches and pains that come as a result of added years, I don't believe there's anything wrong. I'm not worried about the blood test, the pap smear, the breast exam. My heart and lungs are healthy and my blood pressure's always been good. I'm proud of that one. Even when I was pregnant, my blood pressure was always where it should have been.

So what am I afraid of? That f****** (oops, had to say it) weigh scale. What is it about the numbers on that horrible machine that cause me shortness of breath and heart palpitations? I got rid of my own scale years ago because of what it did to me so now, only once a year do I have to step on that blasted square thingy, hold my breath and pray for a good number.

(Doesn't the scale look a little like some kind of torture machine to you? Those weights could really hurt a person if they were thrown. Or what if someone were to pick up the scale and say, smash it against the wall? It could really do some damage. Of course, I've never considered doing those kinds of things.)

All I want is for the number to be either the same or a little less than last year. I'd really like the number to be a lot less than last year but I know that it won't be.

So, I'm not worried about cancer, diabetes, a heart condition or hardening of the arteries. I think that maybe, when I'm in my 70's I'll need a hip replacement. I think that because of the many sunburns I've had over the years, that skin cancer could happen in my future. But I don't lose any sleep over these possibilities-things that can really, seriously affect my quality and length of life.

I'm worried about passing the "weigh scale test." It's those stupid numbers on the weigh scale that really won't affect my long term health that I'm fretting about. I should be concerned about the other, more real health concerns but no, all I can think about is stepping on the scale.

Well, I've made a decision. I will go to the doctor but I won't eat lunch before I go, I'll make sure I give her my urine sample before she weighs me and I'll wear my lightest clothes. That should definitely improve the numbers at least by 1/2 pound or so.

And then, I can stop worrying about it for another year.

I Wish I Could Swear

I was reading the blog of another person today. Her entry was really funny and sprinkled with expletives that made me laugh out loud. I used to work at a place where the language was often colourful-not in a crude kind of way but in a way that made me laugh.

I do not swear well. I can when I'm alone and sometimes, when I'm really mad but usually, when I'm with other people, even though I know they likely wouldn't be offended, I just can't do it. I think it must have something to do with my upbringing. We were not allowed to use crude language at home although, when she was really mad, my mom would swear in Dutch. (She has always denied it. I know that she must have done it when she thought we kids weren't around because where else could I have learned Dutch swear words?)

When I used to work at Winnipeg Harvest, December was one of our busiest months. We put together a "small" number of Christmas hampers (200 or more) together for people who could not access one from the Christmas Cheer Board. The Christmas hamper program along with a huge increase in "drop-in" volunteers brought many of us near the edge of sanity. One of my co-workers began wishing us a Merry F****** Christmas. This would cause me to begin laughing hysterically. She was one of the most caring, generous, wise and considerate people at the food bank and she swore creatively. While I wanted to send Christmas greetings back her way, I was unable to do it in the same fashion.

Maybe successful swearing is only for the young. We middle aged folk with children are trying to be a good example to the younger generation. I think that I need to watch my tongue, especially when the kids are around and to reprimand them when their language gets too spicy. I'm not so naive as to think that my children don't swear. They're just smart enough not to do it at home when I'm around.

I have always taken my "eldest child" responsibilities very seriously. I didn't really rebel when I was a teen; I was always aware that there were younger siblings watching me and I needed to be above reproach and obedient. Maybe that's why I feel this need to start swearing now. Maybe I'm entering some kind of mid-life crisis where I need to do something naughty, something I didn't do as a young person, to sort of "experiment" with bad behaviour.

Problem is, I don't really have anything to swear about right now. Oh wait. I know. This f****** weather (tee hee). I am so d*** (hee hee) sick and tired of this f****** (oops) weather that I could SWEAR!

Lucky Me

Today, I got to hang out with an ultra cool, funny and interesting little person. Her name is Maddie and there are some of you reading this blog who might know her too.

I can't remember the last time I had a little kid all to myself. Joey and Micah used to come over for an "Auntie Linda" day once a week when they were little but since then, children who visit are usually accompanied by their parents.

Today, I've got a good "Maddie Story:"

As we were driving to my place, Maddie was trying to figure out which house I lived in. She knows me and has been here a few times but wasn't quite sure which home belonged to me. We were chatting when suddenly, Maddie remembered something. "Uncle J-L ate the poop." She remembered that the last time she was at my place, there was a party and one of the games included her uncle, a doll and a diaper. (Don't worry. It sounds bad but it really wasn't.)

I asked her if it was "real poop" that he ate and she assured me that it was. Fortunately, she thought that it was a pretty gross thing to do so I don't think her mom and dad have to worry about Maddie ever doing the same thing! I know that Maddie, her sisters and various other little people think that Uncle J-L is cool but I do believe that he must have catapulted right up to "ubercoolness" after pulling off a stunt like that.

The rest of the day passed by quickly. We baked cookies, made a tower, played pool, read some books and created a little town with a train station. I had fun. It's good for me to get on the floor and just hang out for a while with a little person. My 12 Step friends tell me to live in the present, one day at a time. Thanks to Maddie, I was able to do that today-and she made me laugh.

A Great Education

Last Wednesday, I, along with my 2 sisters and a great group of volunteers, ran a Hot Dog Barbeque. This opportunity was presented to us and we, without giving it too much thought, agreed to do it. Here is what I learned:

1. Never order smokies over the phone without first tasting them.
2. Make sure you allow for waste, bad tasting smokies and weather when you decide how much you will charge.
3. Be sure, when ordering items like 800 hotdog buns that you talk to the guy in charge of delivery so HE includes it in HIS delivery schedule.
4. Picking up 800 hotdog buns from the bakery is worth it when you get them for only $1.00 a dozen.
5. When you have a hotdog sale at an elementary school, don't bother with smokies.
6. There are always wonderful people who are willing to help out.
7. It helps to have a very large van and a few strong and willing people to transport barbeques.
8. The least popular Old Dutch potato chip flavour is dill pickle.
9. Most people don't complain about bad smokies. They just don't come back for more.
10. When you break even on an event, it helps to figure out what you learned and chalk it up to experience.

There they are folks. The 10 things I learned. Incidentally, we're planning to do this again next year. Can't let a good education go to waste.

Lost Things

Okay. Where's my map book? You know, the one that says "Don't take this out of the car OR ELSE!"

Maybe I need to invent a map book that will begin to self destruct as soon as it leaves the confines of my car.

Cute Kid Quip

My friend Heather frequently has "cute kid quips" on her blog. My kids are past the cute quip stage but I have to share a great word with you that both Ben and Eric used in their pre-kindergarten years. Can you guess what this is?

Cokesappeley

The Things That Wake Us Up

I was wide awake yesterday morning at 4:00. Sheesh! What's with that? When I was younger, I could sleep all night, every night. As I age, I find my sleep is interrupted far too frequently. I don't know why I wake up most of the times but when I do, sleep often eludes me and I end up feeling pretty tired the next day. This morning as I was lying in bed, I was reminded of another night a number of years ago, when I was roused in the middle of the night. This time however, was a little different.

It was about 3 o'clock in the morning and I was awakened from a deep sleep with the sound of a distant fire truck siren. As I waited, the siren got louder and louder until I realized that it was coming right into our sub division. Moments later, I could see the flashing lights through the curtains and the deep diesel engine sound of the truck. I was trying to decide if I should get out of bed to find out which house was burning when suddenly I heard a loud banging at the door and realized that the truck wasn't moving. They were at MY house!

I made it down the stairs in record time and reached the front door, swinging it wide open only to see one of the firefighters climbing back into the truck. He must have heard something because he looked back at me, and said with a smile, "Sorry! Wrong house!" And all the firefighters left, grinning and waving at me.

I don't know where they ended up that night. I suppose it was a false alarm because I didn't hear or see anything amiss the next day.

Needless to say, I didn't get much sleep after that!

Going to the Mall

Going to the mall with Kristen is both "the best of times" (for her), and "the worst of times" (for me). Kristen loves the mall. I hate it. But strangely enough it is a place where we really can have some fun together. We tend to like the same things. We mostly disagree on sizes and how long or short a skirt or pair of shorts really is. Her perception of "mid thigh" varies substantially from mine.

When she was younger, I worried about her sense of style or lack of it. She didn't seem to care what she wore as long as it was comfortable. Then, seeemingly overnight, she started caring. And I remember the first time we shopped together after that. It was awful. She'd come out of the change room and the conversation would go something like this:

Me: Isn't that a little small?
Kristen: No. It fits (translation-I got it on didn't I?)
Me: Let me find a larger size.
Kristen: Big sigh, rolling of eyes
Me: Pleeeease, just for me, can you try on the larger size?
Kristen: Okay (translation-I'll try it on just to humour you but I already know which size I'm going to get)

We were having a terrible time. She'd come out of the change room looking beautiful and with a body that I could only dream of, wearing clothes that showed-curves! I wanted to get a blanket or at least a large sweat shirt to cover her up.

It was at that moment that I had an epiphany of sorts. My little girl was turning into a woman and I wasn't ready for it. I don't think that it was the style of clothing that was bothering me as much as the fact that she was growing up. I had already begun to notice the looks when we walked together. It wasn't me they were staring at but this beauty who was walking beside me.

For most of my life I have had a rather poor image of my body. I knew this before I had children and my prayer always has been that I don't pass that unhealthy attitude on to them. And for the most part, I believe I haven't. That day at the mall I realized that I tend to wear baggy clothes so that I can hide. Kristen on the other hand, feels pretty comfortable in her skin and does not feel a need to do the same. I also realized that I wanted to protect her from leering eyes. While I can appreciate the beautiful body of a young teen, I don't want any creep using my daughter or any other woman or child as an object to fulfill his fantasies.

I can't always be there to protect her and to take care of her. She has made it pretty clear that she doesn't want me to do that. All I can do is pray that God will guide her and that the lessons she has learned in her 16 years will help her to make good choices and wise decisions.

We don't go to the mall too often anymore. She usually goes with her friends. I kind of miss those times so maybe I'll suggest a trip out there one of these days. I'll have to prepare myself for the trip (see #83 of May 20 blog).

And I hear that the fashion gods are designing longer shirts and baggier pants. One can only hope.

Quote of the Day

"Forgiveness means abandoning your right to pay back the perpetrator in his own kind. It is a loss that liberates the victim."

-Desmond Tutu

Empty Nest

Saturday was an empty nest kind of a day.

I remember dreaming about having days like this when my kids were young. Back then, Saturdays and Sundays were full of cleaning, driving, playing, biking, swimming, play dates...Those were exhausting times. When the kids were really young, Wes and I would often find ourselves doing the dishes and laundry at 10:00 at night after they had all been put to bed.

On Saturday, I had the very kind of day that I used to dream about. Kristen was at a friend's house for much of the weekend. Tim was at his cousin's place all afternoon and as my sister fed him, I didn't need to worry about him. I went to my 12 step meeting (a highlight of my week) in the morning while Wes got groceries. During the afternoon, I read for a while, spent a few minutes with Ben, checked my email and made a few phone calls.

It seems to have happened overnight. My kids don't need me like they used to. Now, they need my car or my money for gas. They want to have parties where I can supply the junk food and the movies but they don't need me to provide the entertainment anymore. They ask for advice on occasion but don't necessarily take it. They can do their own laundry, cook their own dinner and put themselves to bed.

From the time our children are born we begin to teach them independence. We begin to prepare them for the day they move out. But how do we as parents prepare ourselves for the day they no longer need us? It seems to happen so fast. I'm not yet at the empty nest stage as Tim and Kristen will both be at home for a while yet but I am getting a taste of what it might be like. Will Wes and I be able to reconnect as a couple like we did before children? Apparently it happens that couples who have been married for more than 25 years will divorce because they have nothing in common after the children have left. Will we dread evenings and weekends because there are no volleyball games to watch, essays to edit or rides to juggle? Will life become boring?

So, the obvious question is: Do I like this emerging stage of my life?

Well, I'm not really sure. Saturday was a great day. I felt relaxed, refreshed and ready to face the world. I really enjoyed myself. But, I'm looking forward to this week when this old house will be filled with the sounds of my children again. Even if the sound is just the tap tapping of a keyboard, a guitar being strummed or the boom, boom, boom, of the music they're listening to. It sounds like home.

I suppose I'll survive when the last two finally move out. Maybe I'll need to find a hobby. Maybe I can go to evening meetings without feeling guilty that I'm not home, helping out with homework or at least keeping an eye on the computer.

What I can do is to enjoy these days now, when they come-live "one day at a time" as my 12 step friends say and then deal with the real empty nest only when it comes along. I have survived the other stages of my life, I think I can survive this one too. I know other people have and they quite enjoy their new freedom.

*My apologies to my friends with young children who would give their eye teeth for a day like this! I hope I don't sound like I'm whining or complaining.