Balance

Wow, it's been awhile. It's not that I'm not moved to write posts, it's that by the time I have a moment to sit and write, I forget my inspiration. Piper, almost done with her Kindergarten year - amazingly - is growing into a beautiful, sweet, loving, and sharp little girl. Quinn, now 3, is finding her own way. Struggling to be like her big sis, yet her own person. Her aversion to someone else getting attention is rearing it's little curly head. She loves to be in the center of attention. And most of the time Piper is content to let her have it.

As the kids grow, Brooks and I are slowing finding more time for ourselves. I'm taking guitar lessons, he's joined a gym. and my identity as mom continues to evolve as well. My involvement in their life is becoming less "life and death" and more of a choice. It makes for big time internal struggles. I know I need time for me and should take it now and then. And I do. But at the same time, I know this time with them is so short and so very sweet. My little Quinny has 2 more years at home before she goes to Kindergarten. Those years are going to fly. I don't want to ever look back and feel I should've spent more time coloring, playing princess, taking walks and going to parks with her. And Piper, in a couple years, will probably not care as much if I'm at her school once a week volunteering. At this time, it is something SO special to have HER MOM! in her classroom helping out. I choose to be there because it is one way I can let her know that her life at school is important to me. I want to know her friends. I want to know her teachers. I want to see her grow and learn. Not because I'm afraid of her making bad choices or misbehaving, but because I will not let go of being involved in her life. In some way. Every day. Now, don't worry. I know there is a healthy balance in that and we as a family strive for that balance between love and support and encouraging independence. But I have this feeling of time slipping away and I am trying to revel in the beauty of this time, laugh though it's challenges and step back and appreciate this time for what it is.
It is one sister not getting out of the car until she hugs and kisses the other good bye. It is eating breakfast on the kitchen floor in front of the heater, cuddled in blankets. It is "you're the best mommy ever". It is "Mom! I tied my shoes!" It is "Mom, we're supposed to dress like oVIParous animals - not OVI-PARous animals." It is teddy bear dance class. It is morning snuggles in my bed. It is "Mommy, I need you" in the middle of the night. It is "I can DO IT...will you help me please?". It is interestingly self-designed outfits that somehow work for them. It is my big girl who is in a princess dress one minute and wrestling with her boy-friend the next. It is super speedy and flying by. It is sweet and frustrating and wonderful just the way it is.
So I'm trying to choose each day to find balance. Much needed time for me, balanced with sweet sweet time with my girls before it is no longer a choice. As my children grow and I evolve as their Mom, it's all I can hope for.

The age old question.....

Is it nature? Or nurture? How do these things happen? I watch my girls growing up together and pray and pray and pray and hope and hope and hope that they LOVE each other when they have a choice. In our house, right now, they have no choice. But I hope that leads them to the right choice in the future. Here's where I'm coming from: my sister T and I. We are close. SO close. Sometimes annoyingly close (to those around us, i.e. husbands). But it wasn't always this way. Picture it: 1988ish. I'm 12, T's 16. We're home alone after school, parents still at work. An argument over TV erupts, violence ensues. She's got me pinned to the ground, laughing. THEN plays the spit game where she slowly lets her spit string out of her mouth, stopping it just before it hits my face. Flash forward: 1989ish. I'm a Frosh at a HUGE high school. It's her third (and last) year there. She comes up to me at lunch time - I'm so relieved. Here's my big sis! I'm not alone! Oh, what's that? You need lunch money? Oh, ok.......bye?

But, to be fair, I'm struggling to come up with memories. We are siblings. We sometimes treat each other like dirt because no one else will take it and sometimes....we need someone to take teenage angst (or toddler angst) out on. Someone who will still love you when it's over. I'm sure she has similar stories about me. NO need to share them T! I know I did my share of sibling yuck. My point to this is: How did we end up so close?

Yes, we still argue. There was a big one a couple years ago at Thanksgiving that took us a month or so to get over. (She, being the bigger person, brought it up finally). But, the "snits" are fewer and far between and interspersed with such warm love and affection, they are almost negligible.

So, now, as a parent of two girls, I'm faced with "how do I give this to them?". How do I make sure they have the loving relationship I know they can have? I meet so many people on a daily basis, mostly at work. We end up talking a lot. Often, it ends up sounding like a counseling session (sometimes for them, sometimes for me!). I hear stories of broken up families. Siblings that "don't talk". How. how does this happen? And how can I keep it from happening to my girls. Their relationship is so precious...to ME. How can I make it so precious..... to them. What happens when family members just decide to cut other family members, especially siblings, out of their lives? What can be so powerful to make them do that? Does it happen because one sibling feels inferior or less loved by their parents? Is it because they are just so different in their personalities that they could never get along?

Here's what I know. I know my Dad always said:"Someday, she'll be your best friend." He was right.

Here's what I know. My parents never took sides.

Here's what I know. My sister and I are VERY different, but cut from the same cloth.

Here's what I know. We loved and hated each other with the same intensity at different times in our lives, but the love part had endurance. The hate was merely a sprint. Always.

I know our family was always put first by our parents.

I know our parents didn't have the same relationship with THEIR siblings that we do with each other.

I know there is something special between T and I.

I DON'T know how that happened.

But. I do know, I will take my job as a mom seriously, as I always have. And being a mom to more than one kid....it's a new job description. I am now: referee, counselor, teacher and guide with the utmost responsibility on my shoulders. I now need to figure out how to teach these girls how to love each other. No. Matter. What. Big sigh. It's a big responsibility. Thank goodness I have a good example to draw from.

***sorry no pics with this post - I don't currently have access to my pics. I'll add some deathly cute sibling pics soon. ;) ***

One More Warning!

Recently, the girls and I went to Green Bay, Wisconsin in an attempt to visit my paternal Grandmother, Grandma DeWitt, before she passed away. Much to my dismay, she passed 6 days before our scheduled arrival. Regardless, we carried on with our scheduled trip, as my mom and sister were also going and we knew we could be of assistance to my Aunt in settling Grandma's affairs. Plus, a weekend with all the girls is always a blessing. Piper and Quinn did great on the plane - which is always daunting when it's 2 kids to 1 parent. However, sharing a bedroom is something they don't get to do often and BOY, did they get their kicks out of that! I'm all for a little fun in situations like that - after all, I have very fond memories of getting to sleep with my sister on Christmas Eve's and other various and sundry occasions; laughing and giggling until we just passed out. However. After 4 or 5 very loud and myserious bumps and peels of laughter loud enough to crack even the most frozen of tundras I had to lay down the hammer. A few times. (Apparently that night I was carrying a cute little pink "HER tool box" hammer good for only the smallest of picture hanging jobs.) I was running out of threats. So, I gave it the ole "I am NOT giving you one more warning...." (I really meant it this time.) As I walked out, Piper wined "I WANT one more warning...." Then as the door closed, a little louder, "I want one more WARNING." Then, a little louder, " I want ONE MORE WARNING!". And finally, at all 10 decibels, "ONE - MORE - WARNING!!!!!" That became the mantra for the next 10 minutes. "ONE - MORE - WARNING!!!" As sobs turned into snores my Mom, sister and I laughed at her persistence and had ONE -MORE - glass of wine.

Then came February. I know, in this household we were glad to see it. January had not been kind. My Mom's mom, Nana (or Nana Bunny as the girls call her) had been fighting pneumonia for weeks and my Mom called regularly with updates. My mom is the ultimate optimist. Sometimes to a fault. So when she starts calling with "updates" on her mother on a daily or every other day basis and is not always positive about how it's going to turn around, you worry. Add this to a recent "swing and miss" with Grandma DeWitt and we all got a little sketchy. Within a couple of days my sister and I both had flights home to spend some time with Nana. Whether she 'went' tomorrow or in 5 years, no one wanted to feel like they had missed an opportunity to tell her how much she was loved. As it turned out, gratefully, Nana recovered and while we were there, though she was tired and a little less "there" mentally than when we last saw her, she still played a mean game of cards. I had my moments with her. I told her what a gift she was to me and how much I loved her. She felt it. She knows it. I know she knows it. I am at peace with it.

While there, Mom and T reminded me of "ONE MORE WARNING!". The similarities between the situations struck me hard. Nana, once an amazingly strong, self sufficient, independent woman, had become child like - needing her daughter to help her sequence taking off a sweater. And needing to be told "what do I do now?". And, even more childlike, needing reassurance that she was ok. That she was where she needed to be and was doing what she needed to be doing. By the way, the grace with which both my mother and her mother handle this is beautiful and inspiring. Nana knows she is "losing it". And she just accepts it as "how it's supposed to be, I suppose...." and gives the reigns over to Mom. Mom gracefully, patiently and gently guides Nana, her mother, through the minutia of daily life as only an amazingly compassionate mother can. When reminded of my own child asking for one more warning, I realized that what happened with Grandma DeWitt was "one more warning" for me. And what was happening then with Nana was one more gift. I am so sorry I missed my chance to tell Grandma DeWitt in person how much I loved her, how much she meant to me. But I am, and will be continually be, grateful for my one more warning that gifted me special and meaningful time with my Nana. And every moment I get with her after this will be treasured and not taken for granted. I hope we have many more games of Gin Rummy in our future and I hope she continues to whip all of our butts. Grandma D, thank you for all the "gushy Grandma hugs" and one last warning to love as much as you can, when you can. And Nana and Mom, thank you for one more gift.

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.