Today is my youngest daughters 20th birthday. No more teens in my family. All my babies are twenty something adults. At the dawn of this day, it gives me pause. I think of the past years and the importance of giving a good foundation so that their adult years are productive and content. A mom entering and dwelling in her adult children's lives can be a tenuous thing. You need to respect their established world. You need to find the delicate balance of helping and intruding. You want to do the 'mother' thing, but not overstepping the boundaries that their adult world has delineated. I fear being a butt in kinda of mother, but I'm used to showing that I care by doing. A wise mom will learn the best way to retool. Mostly,I think being confident in the new role that I'm in, that of being a woman comfortable in her own skin, keeps the shift seamless. Feeling accomplished with the mother I've been for the
years that i've been blessed for the caretaking of my little brood, makes this transition much more peaceful. Few regrets. Few thoughts of do overs. Many wonderful memories. I think this is key to what could be a very treacherous territory. Some moms will try to play catch up on the things that perhaps they would have done differently. Some want to be the cuddly hands on mom when the last thing a fledgling adult wants, is mommy hanging around too much. Too many ill timed phone calls; too many intrusive questions, can cause irritations that can form chasms. Hands off, firmly planted in your pockets, is the best approach. The hands are in the pockets, ready to pop out quickly though, when it is requested. Only when it's requested. There is something about being asked to help rather than being told to back off, that reassures the parameters of the new adult/adult/mom child relationship.
Entering the stage of mothering adults, brings on a sense of accomplishment, a sense of awe and a sense of completion. From here on out, they will be in charge of orchestrating their lives with me being an observer. Soon, the tide could shift, and they will be caring for me, and retooling begins anew.
But for now, I will pleasantly observe and enjoy this stage.
It is good.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Sunday, February 10, 2008
soup de jour
I have made two batches of soup in as many days.
They are loaded with fresh vegetables and wonderful broth.
And my daughters love it.
I have had the wonderful privilege to be able to visit both my daughters this week. The first trip was an act of love for my eldest as she recuperated from a surgery. I say act of love, since driving (riding) to Chicago, any time, is a a challenge for me. Hate big city traffic; hate big city crazies. So for me to say, Damn the discomfort! Full speed ahead to my Boo!, well, that is a love trip. I am always well pleased once I arrive because her home is a haven of peace and comfort. Rhiannon and Jon have created their little oasis of calm amidst the city nutsiness. And since this was a Mission of Mercy, I had to set out to make soup. Rhiannon has a myriad of allergies since her hip replacement surgery. She is our hothouse orchid, with the interesting tenacity of a common weed. This girl is not shrinking violet. Despite all her 'limitations', she makes the most of all that she is and does. A true powerhouse, in an ironic kind of way. To make a hearty, warm, healing soup is not only a pleasure, it is a necessity of a mommy visit. I am a strong believer in the healing art of feeding those you love. To feed the body only prepares the recipient of the healing of the spirit and soul which is what a mommy visit is hopefully all about. I was able to visit a big city store with all it's abundant produce, to select the finest goods for the mommy soup. Being able to use all the wonderful kitchen tools that a three year marriage can produce, is rapture for me. The stout pans, the perfect cutting tools and the mulititude of cooking utensils, makes a 'cooking freak' like me, positively froth at the mouth. The fine edge knives quickly sliced through the tough root vegetables, the potatoes, the turnips,the parsnips, the onions. The smells of the sauteing vegetables wafted throughout the apartment, preparing The Boo for the treat that she had hoped for. The purchase of some rosemary/olive oil bread, warmed and toasty, added to the glee of the occasion. We sat, warm and sated from the ingestion of the love gift,and basked in the loveliness of the event. Visits are way too rare and need to be celebrated and memoriliazed for posterity......(copying the recipe for her collection is an added suggestion; ;I like knowing that at some point, she will pull this recipe out for her little sniffling, congested progeny, and tell her how 'Nana' would work her soup magic on her!)
The next stop on the daughter tour was the visit a bit south of Chicago, to Lafayette,to the Purdue student/youngest daughter, Calin.
Her life is one of perpetual motion: workplayschoolworkhomeworkplayeatsometimeschoolfacebook and so it goes...It is up to the vistior to either become horribly overwhelmed or go along for the ride....I chose a moderate form of acceptance (I did not go bowling at 11pm) but I did indeed fall into sleeping till nearly noon (and beyond). The weird,wacky world of college, the coming alive at late hours,the silence of a weekend morning, the interesting sounds of an apartment that is populated by those whose lives are on a parallel universe, all this a foreign land to this married at 19 elderly lady. Visiting Calin, is an odd mixture of my past and my future rearranged by some amazing otherworld quirk; able to see what 'could have been' had I been given the brains, the courage, the incentive, the vision that, alas, was not afforded me. I excelled in many other things; namely, being the wife of the most amazing man in the world, but the options that college life was quite simply, out of my range. The past is brought to the forefront when making soup in her apartment kitchen. The ancient ladle that served many helpings of Campbell soup to me is parked in her utensil drawer. The large dutch oven, all green and 60's like, still works efficiently from the days that it produced Sunday pot roast. My parent's hand crafted sugar and creamer, that I purchased on the island of Nantucket on my second honeymoon, sits happily on her counter. Flashes of my childhood peer around at me, eerily sometime, warm at others, it pleases me that my parents have parked themselves in Calin's life. They left this earth way too early; they never got to appreciate the adult Calin, but they would have been more than pleased. Their vintage belongings looked totally in place in my quirky, arty daughter's abode.
As is usually the case, Calin was on the run when we arrived. She had overslept on her nap, and was running late for work. She was in the middle of a whirling dirvish, lacking a shower and proper hair arrangement, she quickly hugged her daddy on her way out the door. As I heard her elderly Honda peal out of the parking lot, I could only say a prayer of protection. Friends stopped by and her roommate left and I was left all alone in Collegeland. So I did what every good mother does in the given situation, I did the dishes, straightened her room (!) and made soup. The same soup I had just made her sister. And I waited.
A storm front bringing amazingly cold air swooped in and forced me to shut the living room window on her third floor apartment. The smells of the simmering soup brought her home early, starving and eager for some Momtime. Well, for a short while. It was, after all, Saturday night in Collegeland. She was preparing to cleanup and get ready to go bowling with her buddies. She loads up on the tasty warm stuff, thanks her mama and heads out to the life that is rightfully hers. I sigh, shower and curl up in her twin bed to read. I sleep the sleep of the dead, only to be awakened by her arrival at 3:30am. She sheds her evening fashion for sweats and jumps in to curl up up around her very warm and cozy mama.
Invest in your children. Make homemade soup. And always, always, love them.
They are loaded with fresh vegetables and wonderful broth.
And my daughters love it.
I have had the wonderful privilege to be able to visit both my daughters this week. The first trip was an act of love for my eldest as she recuperated from a surgery. I say act of love, since driving (riding) to Chicago, any time, is a a challenge for me. Hate big city traffic; hate big city crazies. So for me to say, Damn the discomfort! Full speed ahead to my Boo!, well, that is a love trip. I am always well pleased once I arrive because her home is a haven of peace and comfort. Rhiannon and Jon have created their little oasis of calm amidst the city nutsiness. And since this was a Mission of Mercy, I had to set out to make soup. Rhiannon has a myriad of allergies since her hip replacement surgery. She is our hothouse orchid, with the interesting tenacity of a common weed. This girl is not shrinking violet. Despite all her 'limitations', she makes the most of all that she is and does. A true powerhouse, in an ironic kind of way. To make a hearty, warm, healing soup is not only a pleasure, it is a necessity of a mommy visit. I am a strong believer in the healing art of feeding those you love. To feed the body only prepares the recipient of the healing of the spirit and soul which is what a mommy visit is hopefully all about. I was able to visit a big city store with all it's abundant produce, to select the finest goods for the mommy soup. Being able to use all the wonderful kitchen tools that a three year marriage can produce, is rapture for me. The stout pans, the perfect cutting tools and the mulititude of cooking utensils, makes a 'cooking freak' like me, positively froth at the mouth. The fine edge knives quickly sliced through the tough root vegetables, the potatoes, the turnips,the parsnips, the onions. The smells of the sauteing vegetables wafted throughout the apartment, preparing The Boo for the treat that she had hoped for. The purchase of some rosemary/olive oil bread, warmed and toasty, added to the glee of the occasion. We sat, warm and sated from the ingestion of the love gift,and basked in the loveliness of the event. Visits are way too rare and need to be celebrated and memoriliazed for posterity......(copying the recipe for her collection is an added suggestion; ;I like knowing that at some point, she will pull this recipe out for her little sniffling, congested progeny, and tell her how 'Nana' would work her soup magic on her!)
The next stop on the daughter tour was the visit a bit south of Chicago, to Lafayette,to the Purdue student/youngest daughter, Calin.
Her life is one of perpetual motion: workplayschoolworkhomeworkplayeatsometimeschoolfacebook and so it goes...It is up to the vistior to either become horribly overwhelmed or go along for the ride....I chose a moderate form of acceptance (I did not go bowling at 11pm) but I did indeed fall into sleeping till nearly noon (and beyond). The weird,wacky world of college, the coming alive at late hours,the silence of a weekend morning, the interesting sounds of an apartment that is populated by those whose lives are on a parallel universe, all this a foreign land to this married at 19 elderly lady. Visiting Calin, is an odd mixture of my past and my future rearranged by some amazing otherworld quirk; able to see what 'could have been' had I been given the brains, the courage, the incentive, the vision that, alas, was not afforded me. I excelled in many other things; namely, being the wife of the most amazing man in the world, but the options that college life was quite simply, out of my range. The past is brought to the forefront when making soup in her apartment kitchen. The ancient ladle that served many helpings of Campbell soup to me is parked in her utensil drawer. The large dutch oven, all green and 60's like, still works efficiently from the days that it produced Sunday pot roast. My parent's hand crafted sugar and creamer, that I purchased on the island of Nantucket on my second honeymoon, sits happily on her counter. Flashes of my childhood peer around at me, eerily sometime, warm at others, it pleases me that my parents have parked themselves in Calin's life. They left this earth way too early; they never got to appreciate the adult Calin, but they would have been more than pleased. Their vintage belongings looked totally in place in my quirky, arty daughter's abode.
As is usually the case, Calin was on the run when we arrived. She had overslept on her nap, and was running late for work. She was in the middle of a whirling dirvish, lacking a shower and proper hair arrangement, she quickly hugged her daddy on her way out the door. As I heard her elderly Honda peal out of the parking lot, I could only say a prayer of protection. Friends stopped by and her roommate left and I was left all alone in Collegeland. So I did what every good mother does in the given situation, I did the dishes, straightened her room (!) and made soup. The same soup I had just made her sister. And I waited.
A storm front bringing amazingly cold air swooped in and forced me to shut the living room window on her third floor apartment. The smells of the simmering soup brought her home early, starving and eager for some Momtime. Well, for a short while. It was, after all, Saturday night in Collegeland. She was preparing to cleanup and get ready to go bowling with her buddies. She loads up on the tasty warm stuff, thanks her mama and heads out to the life that is rightfully hers. I sigh, shower and curl up in her twin bed to read. I sleep the sleep of the dead, only to be awakened by her arrival at 3:30am. She sheds her evening fashion for sweats and jumps in to curl up up around her very warm and cozy mama.
Invest in your children. Make homemade soup. And always, always, love them.
Saturday, October 27, 2007
Stirred up Memories
Allison's Daddy, Corey just called. It appears that his little family is safely tucked into their cozy little abode and all is well with the world. I could picture the scenario and all my warm, motherly memories about the 'Coming Home' event flooded my emotions. My husband could tell that I had experienced that sweet reverie so we started talking about the coming home event with each of our children. With Rhiannon, our eldest, the emotion ran from amazement to fear. My parents had respectfully left us alone and there we sat in our living room with this tiniest of infants, 5lb. 11 oz, 18 inches long, and we were supposed to know what to do with her? The scariest moment I could remember; God had placed this needy little girl in our lap and we hadn't a clue what was next. Her future, her stability, her very life was in our seemingly inept hands. Terrifying. I suppose that would explain how the first diaper we put on her was her 'spit up' diaper! Hilarious! Rhiannon came home on the cusp of a blizzard with temperatures well below normalcy. I believe her first weekend home was -32 below zero, wind chill factor. The entire weekend, we spent in bed, cuddled up around our princess of a baby, coming out only for nourishment and bathroom breaks. We piled on the quilts and stared at her the whole time, watching the tiny nuances that break through a sleeping baby's countenance. The wonder of that special weekend, with not only us safely tucked in but everyone that had even thought of coming over, safely stowed away in their own homes, made our introduction into Parenting Land, sweet, memorable and private. The way it should be.
The other children's homecoming was more heralded and much more noisy! Rhiannon welcomed Devon with a scepticism that was to become her trademark. At 2 years and 4 months, she just could not figure out who and why this new little guy was upstaging her at every turn. Fortunately, her beloved Daddy was able to take off work for a while to entertain her and to assure her that all was well in Rhiannonland. Devon was a quiet, cooperative and very flexible little baby, so Rhiannon barely noticed that he was an issue after the initial hubbub died down. Jordan came home early in the morning to his excited grandparents, another skeptical four year old and and really little six year old 'other mom'! He was passed around so many times that his blankets got worn spots! I held him as he nursed, but he had plenty other arms for most of the time. Calin's homecoming was wild and crazy and noisy as her three siblings and dog Tessa, raucously welcomed her home.
Each homecoming different and special in it's own way and each one riveted into my memory...
The other children's homecoming was more heralded and much more noisy! Rhiannon welcomed Devon with a scepticism that was to become her trademark. At 2 years and 4 months, she just could not figure out who and why this new little guy was upstaging her at every turn. Fortunately, her beloved Daddy was able to take off work for a while to entertain her and to assure her that all was well in Rhiannonland. Devon was a quiet, cooperative and very flexible little baby, so Rhiannon barely noticed that he was an issue after the initial hubbub died down. Jordan came home early in the morning to his excited grandparents, another skeptical four year old and and really little six year old 'other mom'! He was passed around so many times that his blankets got worn spots! I held him as he nursed, but he had plenty other arms for most of the time. Calin's homecoming was wild and crazy and noisy as her three siblings and dog Tessa, raucously welcomed her home.
Each homecoming different and special in it's own way and each one riveted into my memory...
New Babies
I have a new pretend grandbaby. This sweet little girl was born on Thursday and I have yet to meet her. But this does not mean that I am not connected to this long awaited child. I have a personal thing about greeting a newborn once Mama is safely home and settled and has done all the private things that a Mama needs to do when she is giving birth. I consider childbirth as a sacred, holy and completely intimate event between a husband and wife. Bleachers of people gaping at the new couple with their infant, waiting for some sort of performance, annoys me to no end and I will not be a part of it no matter how desperately I want to see them all. It is a courtesy I shall extend to my own children when their time arrives. I shall put my crazily greedy grandma grubby hands under control while I consider this their time, precious and sweet. There will be plenty of time for me to spend long hours of play and cuddling, introducing myself and imprinting on the child just how valuable I think she is...
While I was awaiting this new little girl, Allison, I was babysitting another of my little friends, Grant. He is 7 months old and at that wonderful stage of exploring with all his senses. He is trying baby food and touching and manipulating toys. He is understanding the cadence of story books and knows instinctively who has passed inspection and who has not. I have been enamored with him since the month that I watched him while his mama made arrangements to stay with him at home, leaving her very profitable job and seeking home employment. It was a pleasure to help her in her honorable quest and selfishly, it was a joy to sit on my porch swing and sing my little 2 month old friend to sleep in the quiet of a summer afternoon. The Grantmeister, as we call him, will be delighted with his new little friend, Allison, and I can't wait till they both are sitting at my dining room table, playing with play dough and painting pictures to decorate my kitchen walls.
So I welcome you Allison, to my growing list of pretend grandbabies! I hope this world treats you well and that you find exciting adventures ahead. Your Mama and Daddy are good, good friends of mine and I have always wished them the best so I believe that you are the best that God has to give for them and I rejoice in that. Ah, the joy of a new soul, a new life in this tainted old world! Fresh air from the God that created it all!!!
While I was awaiting this new little girl, Allison, I was babysitting another of my little friends, Grant. He is 7 months old and at that wonderful stage of exploring with all his senses. He is trying baby food and touching and manipulating toys. He is understanding the cadence of story books and knows instinctively who has passed inspection and who has not. I have been enamored with him since the month that I watched him while his mama made arrangements to stay with him at home, leaving her very profitable job and seeking home employment. It was a pleasure to help her in her honorable quest and selfishly, it was a joy to sit on my porch swing and sing my little 2 month old friend to sleep in the quiet of a summer afternoon. The Grantmeister, as we call him, will be delighted with his new little friend, Allison, and I can't wait till they both are sitting at my dining room table, playing with play dough and painting pictures to decorate my kitchen walls.
So I welcome you Allison, to my growing list of pretend grandbabies! I hope this world treats you well and that you find exciting adventures ahead. Your Mama and Daddy are good, good friends of mine and I have always wished them the best so I believe that you are the best that God has to give for them and I rejoice in that. Ah, the joy of a new soul, a new life in this tainted old world! Fresh air from the God that created it all!!!
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Lessons from Errands
Just came back from a quick errand trip and learned two profound lessons that can be taught to your child.
1. It was pouring rain, that cold October type of rain when I left. I approached a stop sign to see a youngish woman, maybe late 20's riding a bicycle, no jacket, just a pullover sweater, long hair pulled back in a ponytail, carrying a grocery bag on the handle bars. Now, if my kids would have been with me, I would have asked them, why do you think that woman is riding her bike in the cold, pouring rain? It had been raining all morning, so it wasn't as if she got caught in a downpour. No, her trip was intentional and obviously needy. What was in her bag that was so important as to risk health to procure it? I would use this incident to be a catylyst for a critical thinking type of conversation. Investigate thoughts your kids could have to see how actions have ramifications.
2. While I was in the grocery store, the son of a past acquaintance came in to shop. He graduated from the local high school, but shortly after graduation announced that he was gay. I knew his family and saw the chaos that he came from and followed his dubious trek for attention for several years. A sad, sad scenario. Inattentive parents, consumed with their problems while their children are bleeding out. This young man needed his father's attention and his mothers good emotional health to become all that he could be. Now, he is endangering himself with his lifestyle and example to his younger siblings. Please, please, when you take on the committment to be a parent, remember that for many years, the children will have to come first in you and your spouse's life......Nurture so that the adult years of your children become an opportunity for some of the best friends you could ever have.....Invest the young years well......
1. It was pouring rain, that cold October type of rain when I left. I approached a stop sign to see a youngish woman, maybe late 20's riding a bicycle, no jacket, just a pullover sweater, long hair pulled back in a ponytail, carrying a grocery bag on the handle bars. Now, if my kids would have been with me, I would have asked them, why do you think that woman is riding her bike in the cold, pouring rain? It had been raining all morning, so it wasn't as if she got caught in a downpour. No, her trip was intentional and obviously needy. What was in her bag that was so important as to risk health to procure it? I would use this incident to be a catylyst for a critical thinking type of conversation. Investigate thoughts your kids could have to see how actions have ramifications.
2. While I was in the grocery store, the son of a past acquaintance came in to shop. He graduated from the local high school, but shortly after graduation announced that he was gay. I knew his family and saw the chaos that he came from and followed his dubious trek for attention for several years. A sad, sad scenario. Inattentive parents, consumed with their problems while their children are bleeding out. This young man needed his father's attention and his mothers good emotional health to become all that he could be. Now, he is endangering himself with his lifestyle and example to his younger siblings. Please, please, when you take on the committment to be a parent, remember that for many years, the children will have to come first in you and your spouse's life......Nurture so that the adult years of your children become an opportunity for some of the best friends you could ever have.....Invest the young years well......
Pure Gold
I remember when I was a young mother, eagerly listening to women with years, hoping to learn through osmosis, some wonderful pearl of wisdom.....Fast forward 30 years and I find myself in the amazing position of having young mamas wanting to listen to me! This blog will be for the new mom who has just found out that the wonderful new baby that she has delivered, does not come with instructions! For the overwhelmed mama of a toddler that is waiting for the day that she takes him to college, there is hope!
I hope the words that you find here will encourage you, lighten your day, give you hope and make you laugh (and cry!).....
I hope you enjoy my reflections of my 30 years of being Mama.......
I hope the words that you find here will encourage you, lighten your day, give you hope and make you laugh (and cry!).....
I hope you enjoy my reflections of my 30 years of being Mama.......
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