Frayed Apron Strings

I feel like I am on the verge of the time when the kids decide they don't want me in the examining room at the doctors office any more. The time where if they forget their lunch money they don't call home but figure out a solution all on their own. When they choose their own science fair project and do all the research themselves and don't ask for input. You know the time when friends and the mall are chosen over family gatherings and diaries are really kept locked and hidden away. When their bodies are growing so fast their brains can't quite catch up.

I can't decide how I feel about it all. On one hand I feel glorious and victorious that we have done our job as parents so far. That they can find that independence and ability. But it is hard to know that things are changing and that I am not needed in the same way I once was. If only I had known all those years ago when I was up at 2am holding a crying baby while crying myself wishing I could just get her to sleep how things would change. I might have enjoyed it more then. As torturous as those tearful drop offs at preschool were I selfishly sometimes wonder if I should have gone in and sat down in one of the tiny kid chairs for circle and snack. But I didn't. I couldn't because it would have been all for me and would not have fostered any sort of independence.

My hope is that I am still the one they will come to for advice. That I am the one they know will set the boundaries that they can't cross but if they do will still love them no matter what. That when something is too hard or too unknown they feel they can confide in me not only because I am their mom but because they trust me to have their back. I want them to know mistakes happen and perfection is a fairy tale.

This parenting thing is a scary tightrope walk but at least there is a net below to help us bounce back up and try the walk again.

The Main Dish

The fall is always busy. School and sports and birthdays and friends. This fall is over the top. There isn't one night during the week we are all home at the same time for dinner. We eat in shifts. Mostly sandwiches or cereal. Late. Then after that there is homework and showers and bed. No time to be a family. I miss that.

I miss the 20 minutes sitting together to eat. Where we are all turned toward each other and really talking. No phones or iPods or TV. The mismatched dishes and the thrown together meals add to the relaxed conversation. Everyone has something to say to contribute to the chatter. Questions are asked, days are talked about all around that table. Walls are down and problems are solvedall around that table. That time equals family and home. I miss that. I think we all do.

Last weekend we found our selves all home for dinner. The kids set the table and lingered long after the pizza box was empty. They had so much to say. So much encouragement to give each other and themselves. That table is helping to build confidence and empathy. It is opening ears and silencing fears. It is about being a part of something. Always having someone to listen and really hear. I love that table.

As the temperatures start to plummet and the darkness comes earlier dinner will be back on the table every night. It won't be fancy but we will once again congregate and connect. That table and everyone around it help me keep a finger on the pulse of what makes life positive. It makes me remember that my kids are becoming such individuals with opinions and humor all their own. All adding a different ingredient to the main dish: Family.

The Paper Trail

I have never been much of a newspaper reader. The headlines maybe but never the stories. The one thing I have always been able to stomach are the vital statistics. Around the time I got married years ago I started looking at the marriage licenses every single day. I would pour over them finding names that I recognized and ages so close to mine. I would imagine how their wedding would be like mine. I would want them to be in as much in love as me. I found myself wondering about their story.Years later after my own wedding had passed and we began to plan for a family I flipped the page to the birth statistics. I saw names I knew often and eventually my own three times.That was a time of lots of laughter and tears...mine and the babies. It was a whirlwind. It seemed to go slowly but when I look back now it passed in a moment. Sometimes I wish I could have read those baby announcements a little longer.

But you have to go forward. I flipped quickly through the next section. But as fast as I went I still saw names I knew in the divorce section. I wondered about the stories behind those names too. Why some marriages make it and others just don't. What happens to those families after the papers are signed.

The last section is still foreign to me. I know I will have to turn the page eventually and read their final story. I know I will start to recognize names as time goes on. I don't want to identify with them. I don't want to recognize names and read those stories but I know I will have to. Some day.

In My Own Defense.

In my own defense.....

...I forgot the window was down and other people could hear me singing to the teen station at the stop light...

...the shaving cream can is the same exact color as the hair spray.....

...I couldn't find my glasses because I didn't have them on...

...I forgot to take into account that the bank would be closed for the holiday...

...I never asked to drive a car so big ...or so um wide....

...someone has to be the official cheerleader at the girl's soccer games, why not me?

...it just felt wrong to leave one lonely glass worth left in the bottle...

...that text was meant for someone else ...

...the kids like frosted animal crackers too ...

...the butter made my phone very slippery...

In my own defense.