Googly Eyes

Yep. Both girls got glasses this summer. Craziness. I'm still not convinced it's not a sham. They had eye doctor appointments in the same week. First Quinny - yep, glasses it is. Then a couple of days later, Piper - yep, glasses! At first my vanity took over and I started feeling sorry that I wouldn't get to see those 4 beautiful eyes without seeing my own reflection looking back at me. Then I pep-talked myself into being ok with it. I mean, after all - of all the medical "issues" children can and do have? Really? I'm going to be upset about them wearing glasses? I guess I can get over it....

OK, but how do I get them over it? THAT is the question. Piper got hers first on a Thursday evening. I got home from work and out walked this sweet little librarian looking nymph. Shyly smiling at me through her new specs, awaiting my response. OH! I know it sounds cheesy, but my heart swelled and I was SO proud of my little "big girl". The next day was our nephews' adoption party. When Piper and her daddy walked up to her cousin, the first thing he said was: "Wow! I love your glasses!". Ok! Off to a good start! As the party went on, Piper became less and less excited about wearing her glasses. They kept slipping down her nose. They kept getting dirty. They got caught in her hair. And the other kids kept asking "Why are you wearing glasses?" To which she had no answer....Mom stepped in and said, "So she can see better!"

"Why, are her eyes bad?". Bad? Bad?! NO! Nothing on MY child is BAD! "BAD" is such a bad word! Not bad! Not bad! I fumbled, stumbled and flubbed. Most of all I did not want Piper to feel like she was inferior to anyone JUST because she had glasses! I think I just said something lame like "NO, not bad, just....not good...." Um. Yes. That's MUCH better mom. (Well I guess that might keep Piper from asking me to stand up for her in the future!)

It was the first time I've ever had a child in a situation where teasing became a real possibility. I could just hear the taunts "4-eyes, 4 eyes! Nah nah na na nah nah!". It made me cringe. It made me sad. It made me realize - I need to get over it. It's not about me. It's not about my kids being inferior. Yes, they are going to be different than kids without glasses. So? Don't I tell my kids that different is ok? Why is it ok for other people, but not my kids? Can't different be really special? And don't I HOPE that they CHOOSE to be different sometimes?

I know, I know. Glasses are really no big deal. But when it's your kids - it's different.

I have to say I am so proud of how they have both taken their glasses in stride. Piper wears them now without complaint and loves noticing others who wear glasses: the girl in her dance class, Grandma, Grandpa, the babysitter, and now even her cousin who thought her glasses were so cool! Quinny took to hers like a natural. Piper had had her glasses for about 5 days before she got hers- which definitely helped. And, she can SEE. You should have seen her looking around the house her first day with glasses. Like she had never seen it before. She does take them off occasionally to get my attention, but I didn't have to - as my best friend suggested - put the cardboard inserts of paper towel rolls over her elbows to keep her glasses on. (Take a minute for that visual - I guarantee a giggle.)

So, as usually happens, my girls have taught me a valuable lesson. As I look at my reflection in their glasses I gain insight into my insecurities as a mom, my imperfections and the things that make me different. And I see warm loving black-coffee brown and deep ocean blue smiling back at me, not getting what I was so wound up about.

Happy Birthday Mama!

For some reason, I had it in my head that my birthday was going to be nothing special this year. I prepared myself for it a few days ahead of time. Life is just so busy right now and everyone seems overloaded with their own crazy lives. So I was not expecting much. Then, I had bookclub (aka "wine club") two nights before my birthday. I can't remember if I've mentioned my bookclub before. But it is an amazing group of women. We come together every month (or 6 weeks, sometimes 8 weeks when life gets REALLY crazy) and laugh, cry, eat, drink, be merry, OH! and talk about books. We are a group with varied interests, in different places in our lives, and we all respect our differences and embrace them, which is why it is such a magical group. That night, out of nowhere, they produce a sunflower (my favorite flower) cupcake with a candle and sing "Happy Birthday" to me. I was SO touched. It was so unexpected and welcomed.

Then the morning of my birthday arrived. It was a Monday, one of the days I work. I woke Piper up to bring her to her Grandparents for the day and told her it was my birthday. She just lit up like a birthday cake candle and got SO excited. "When's your party? Are we going to have cake? What am I giving you? What are you going to wear? What am I going to wear? Can I wear my Pink-Dress-That-You-Fixed?" (I sewed a hole - Holly Homemaker I am NOT). Her excitement was rather contagious.

Then I dropped her off and my father in law forgot to wish me a Happy Birthday. (I forgive you!!!) Then I got to work and no one remembered it was my birthday. Then I got grumpy. Really grumpy. (Is it just me, or is there something about birthdays that make you extra sensative?) Then....

Throughout the day I got voicemails, emails, facebook posts, phone calls and texts from all those I love. I mean - like EVERYONE. Then Brooks stopped by work to give me a birthday kiss. Despite my apparent determination to make this birthday suck, it was turning out pretty well. Then I got home and Brooks's parents were there, there was my favorite pizza in the oven, cards from everyone and a cake made by Piper (with a little help from Grandma). Piper had her friend MacKenzie over and wa-LA. Birthday party for grumpy little Mia. And can I just tell you that there is nothing like a 3-going-on-4 year old's excitement about a birthday party and cake to make you smile despite yourself.

So, yes, birthdays - for me, anyway- have the potetial to make you feel really sensitive and disappointed. But they also have the power to make you feel so loved, appreciated, missed and special. That's how this one turned out this year. I'm so grateful to have turned another year. Thank you all who make my life something special. I am so truly blessed.

Needing

Wow, it's been awhile since I've blogged. So much has changed, yet it's all just the same... Quinny is walking, babbling, showing her strong spirit and showing her strong love more and more everyday. Piper is.....Piper is.....Well, Piper is 3. Some days Piper is so mature, has real conversations with you (without whining), shares (without whining), eats (you guessed it, without whining), smiles, laughs and loves. Some days, not so much. We have hit our first, of many I'm sure, mom versus daughter stages. Why is it that it's so easy to enter into power struggles with a 3 year old? I mean really? What do I have to prove? And to who? I think what it comes down to is this. My first Job in this crazy life is "Mom". It's first because it's most important. It's first because it's my most loved position. It's first because it will not take a back seat to anything. Including my ego. Which I have to remind myself of in situations like these. The power struggle is entered because I feel a need sometimes to "win one". Just this one. Please. Because I need to feel in charge. Because I've been feeling like I'm not running the show. And when it's my first job, my most important job, my most loved job, that I feel I'm not in control of, I fight. I'm not saying it's the correct reaction, it's just that, a reaction. From the gut. Ask anyone who knows me well and they'll tell you, I'll fight to protect what I love. So in a weird convoluted way, I'm fighting, entering these power struggles because I love her and I love my job as her mommy.

It's so difficult sometimes to push your mood, your needs, your desire to "check out" aside and push forward. Onward weary soldier. This isn't every day. In fact it's not most days. Most days, it's just life. It's just hanging with my girls. It's just having lunch, having naps, and having a good time at the park. But some days. Some days. I am a soldier. A really grumpy one. And on those days, it's hard to just be mommy and not be mommy with an ego and something to prove. I realize, on those days, that on each day I actually walk a pretty thin line between mommy and Ego Mommy.

Three year olds are a needy bunch. They need love. They need understanding. They need patience. They need to put their shoes on by themselves, and then they need you to help them figure out which is the right foot. Some days, like today, I hear all day: "Mommy I need (fill in the blank)." Over and over again. Today, after Piper's Daddy came home and I had had a few moments to sooth Ego Mommy's soul, Piper and I were cuddling and she said "Mommy I need.... I need..... I need you." Well said love bug. You do need me. You need me to just be mommy. You are three. And I? I need you. I am your thirty-three year old mommy. And I need you.

Strong

I feel strong. It feels good. I'm able to do poses in yoga I have never been able to do before. I'm enjoying running like I never have before. But it's not just physical. I am feeling refreshed as a mom. I am feeling refreshed as a wife. As a friend. As a physical therapist. I don't know what has lead to this evolution. Maybe it's age- let me rephrase that - Maturity. Who knows. But I know I'm feeling on the edge of a change in my life. Part of this I know has to do with my "baby" turning One Year Old at the end of the month. Yes, I'm partially mourning the end of babyhood. I will miss the coos, replaced with the "no!"'s. I will miss the acceptance of anything put on her plate, replaced with "No!". I will miss the outstretched arms for "mama", replaced with "Down!". I won't see it again as a mom. And it is such a sweet, sweet time. But. Quinny turning One Year Old is also a big transition for me. It means new fun phases to experience with her. In a completely different way then they were experienced with Piper. Partially because my vision is colored with "savor this time, it's the last 1st birthday you'll ever host". And partly because they are such completely different people. And, it means a new kind of freedom. Freedom from the intense worry you feel with such a little helpless peanut who is sick and can't tell you what's wrong. Freedom from regular night wakings. Freedom from a two-nap-a-day schedule. Freedom from teething. Breast feeding. Bottles. And a return to self. I am a stronger self. One fuller of spirit. A mom of two beautiful girls, but also, just me. A renewal of my identity apart from a mom. Of course, being a mom is still my primary role and identity (won't it always be?). But I feel a strengthening of that branch of my self that is just me. Just Mia. Not mama mia, not wife mia, just me-mia. There will be more time for me in days to come. There will be more reading for pleasure, less reading for parenting advice. There will be more time away without kids. I will always cherish these first 3 1/2 years of motherhood. None could have been sweeter. And there's a small part of me that doesn't want to move on. But there is a bigger part that knows there are even better moments (could it be possible?) ahead. In theory, I know nothing could be more rewarding than watching your kindergartner take the first step towards her new classroom, full of excitement and joy - and maybe a little fear, but knowing she'll be ok. Knowing, I've done all I can up to this point to help her become this individual little person. Or watching your daughter accept her first degree. Or have a little one of her own and watching her become the mommy you always strived to be to your own children. This part of me that knows this is strong. Chin up. Shoulders back. Onward. Strong.

Dancing Queen

Piper had her first dance class on Thursday. I don't know who was more excited, her or me? I spent the hour (free of obligations to my children or anyone else) glued to the glass window spying on her. Every time she'd look my way I had on a big goofy smile and did the "mom wave". Come on, you all know the "mom wave." Yes you do. It's that full arm- tear my shoulder out of the socket-wave, just in case you might miss me in my bright pink ski suit standing alone on the deck of the ski lodge-wave. And she, just as I did when I saw that wave, glanced away like she saw nothing and carried on. Dancing. It was everything I wanted it to be for her first class. You may wonder why it was such a big deal to me. I guess I am too. I think it's because it's the first of her, hopefully many, steps into independence. A step into defining who she is. Dance class is not something I pulled out of the air for her to try. The girl LOVES to dance. She positions herself in the middle of the living room floor, puts on her ballerina face - which is oh-so-serious - and with full concentration performs the moves that she believes make up the grace of a Ballerina. Now, at 3 years old, not really the picture of grace. But definitely the picture of a Vivid imagination. She is seeing herself as she saw those "real ballerinas" on stage at the Nutcracker. Tall, lithe, graceful, princess-like and on stage. At one point during the class each of the three little girls got to do a solo number with a scarf. I was so proud of her. She went first and just followed her instinct, just like she was in her own living room. In her own world. A beautiful ballerina. No reservations. No hesitation. That, I think, is pretty impressive for a 3-year-old's first class!
Now, don't worry. I vow not to be that mom. If the novelty and fun of dance wear off for her, I will just be happy for the joy it gave her at the time and move on with her. I know this enjoyment may last for three classes or less! And I vow to enjoy each moment of it with her and not take for granted that she has found something that, at least for the moment, brings her dreams to life - even if just a little bit.
But for now - it just makes me smile. Seeing her come to life like that. It's a little peek at what it's like to see your child become an individual. To see Piper define who Piper is. Not because it's what I say she is or because it's what her friends are, but because it's what she wants for herself. What more can a mother ask for her child? And don't worry - I'll have front row tickets for all you tutu givers when she's on a real stage.