Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Friday, October 14, 2011
My Aunt Jan
Females Of Every Sort... Girls, Ladies, Women, Sisters, Sister in laws, Girlfriends, Mothers, Step Mothers, Mother in laws, Daughters, Daughters-in-law, Nieces, Cousins, Aunts, Grandmas
Never underestimate your power as a woman...
Your eyes reflect the beauty of the world, the exuberance of life and hope for that which can appear hopeless.
You are the secret ingredient that love stories and chocolate are made.
Your outward beauty helps to soften the harshness of life’s terrain... so be sure to wear a smile....
Your depth of heart and the passion you put in to everything you create... an education, a child, a family, a home, a business, a soap box from which to scream your truth, an act of activism for something you believe... the song that can only be sung through the heart of a woman.
Find your uniqueness, understand your value and don’t let anyone rob you of it.
Color outside the lines.
Always be grateful that you get to live on this big blue marble and experience this thing called life... it is amazing and worth every bad hair day, pimple, and tear...
When you look in the mirror, look past your hair and lipstick... look deeply into your own eyes and make friends with your soul... there you will find your best friend.
Learn to forgive as quickly and completely as possible. This is your fountain of youth...
Recognize yourself in everyone you meet... you will learn to better understand yourself and more fully love others.
If you feel stuck in your thoughts or actions, stand on your head for 5 minutes to get a new perspective on life.
Believe in yourself and know that you can do more than you can imagine... but your imagination is a good place to start.
Believe that with a good cape and a nice tiara you can save the world!!! Because you CAN and you WILL help to save the world!!!
Because you are love...
~ J
Love always and deeply....
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Butterfly Kisses
Yesterday was bitter sweet.
Have you ever watched "So you think you can Dance?"
Have you ever seen a performance that moves you so much by it's pure combination of music, feeling, and movement that it overtakes every bit of you and you actually cry?
I have, and it was yesterday.
It wasn't on some reality TV show, but watching Noo's last dance with her company team at Center Stage. I know that not everyone will agree with this decision that Jon and I with Noo made together, but that is OK. One thing I have learned over the course of many children is to start and believe in myself...in the answers and promptings I get for my children and not worry about how other people would do it.
I am the only mother of this child, and I am the one that knows her inside and out. I take time daily studying how my kids act and react in every situation. From the minute they are born, I have been interested in how my children processes the world around them differently and how there is no way to parent each child then same.
I remember watching frustrations between my siblings when one received more than the other, when it was seemingly not fair. I recall my dad saying,
"When you are a parent, you will understand that each child is parented differently. No matter how hare you try to keep it "fair".
In my case, I am the oldest and was lucky to borrow my parents car to drive to school when I was 16, while my sister was helped to buy a car for herself. It didn't made sense to me, but now in hind sight it makes perfect sense.
I was the oldest, and she was the youngest. There was more money to help her with something like that after they got my butt out of the house! I am a completely different mother to Bug than I was to Mack when she was young {monetarily and patience wise}
I am weathered.
I know which storms to engage in and which to let roll over in the sky.
This year has been a long one and has had impact on us all. Noo has had a rough year in school worrying about friends, struggled staying up with math *I can relate*, and most of all wrestled with being a 12 year old girl. If you are a woman, there is no other description needed. Without going into personal, unneeded detail...we decided as a family that for now, she needed a break from company. It's actually amazing we made it as long as we did this year, but she will miss the very fun spring programs and trip to New York to compete.
It was emotional and very hard to tell her coach and team. They all have worked so hard together and some would see this as quitting or giving up. I disagree. We took the harder road to save something more important. We chose to save Noo.
Her instructor asked us to come in and tell the team to their faces and I have to admit, I could barely imagine putting her through that. I almost told her no. Girls can be so mean at this age, and she has already been through so much. In the end, I agreed with her teacher that we want Noo to feel welcome to return at any time and let the girls hug and bond while saying goodbye instead of the nasty back biting that undoubtedly goes on at this age.
We walked into the studio...
"Mom, I don't want to be here..."
"Do you think I want to be here?..."
"umm no?"
"I can go outside and wait for you if you want, or I can stay with you."
"Come with me"
"OK, it will be alright. If they are mean we will just leave."
Some girls from her team saw her and walked past without a hello, and a few decided to greet her. Noo started to tear up and all I could do was stand by her side and wait. Eventually her teacher saw us standing in the hall and said,
"I know it is hard to be here, but it will be over soon."
Being the baby I am that feels intense emotion for others *maybe more than myself most times* I started to tear up also. I remember OH so well the drama, emotions, exhausting feelings of inferiority and thoughts of somehow never being good enough, pretty enough, or talented enough. I am relieving this over and over again in each daughter.
I gave her a hug and we walked to her studio class room. Inside, there were groups of girls chattering, some staring and others waving at Noo.
"Mom, can I play your games on your phone?"
"Yes, of course."
*Fruit Ninja has become her way to deal with stress the past few weeks and she has the highest score I have ever heard of. I mean, this girl can slice fruit like nobodies business.*
Somehow I felt like a young girl again. How can these little eyes everywhere bring me back to my insecurities as a teen? I remember dancing at this age. I remember the body image issues all of them were dealing with but somehow it feels like you are the only one.
The teacher called us over, and by brilliant design had a bucket of popcorn sitting out for the girls. There was a couple ready to perform for the class so we all scooted up against the mirrored wall and waited for the treat about to unfold before our eyes. They were dressed in black and had been trained since early youth *I am sure* in ballroom, ballet, Jazz, and many other specialties.
They began, and I was in awe.
I remember dancing, but it was never anything like this. It is normal for kids now to do at least a triple turn, while I struggled for my double for years. The bar is somehow raised higher and higher and I sometimes wonder what the limit is?? Maybe it's good, maybe it's bad, maybe it's both. The hours of training are unheard of, the stress load on these young kids overwhelming...but as a society we do it.
I wish I had recording t show you the dance they executed, but I don't. It was perfectly choreographed with lifts, turns, cute parts, funny parts and parts that made your mouth drop. They were completely in sync in emotion, body, and energy. It was brilliant.
After it was over, everyone clapped and I knew what was about to happen. The teacher brought everyone around and began to talk:
"Girls, dancing is what we do, it's not who we are. It is more important to be a good person than to be the best dancer. Sometimes at different times in our lives we have to take a break from things to put our lives into order (I can't tell you how happy I was that she was getting it right, and not rude). Noo has decided that it is time for her to take a little break and I wanted to make sure that everyone treats her well. She is always welcome to come back and take more classes. One of the best dancers that came out of Center Stage was a girl that took a 2 year break. I trust that you will not talk behind her back and treat her with kindness. She is a very good dancer and we need to respect their families decision."
By this point I was in tears and so was Noo.
The teacher turned to Noo and asked if she had anything she wanted to add. She shook her head and then the question turned on me. Of course I had to say something....so I just reiterated what had already been expressed, that we didn't want to do this but we knew it was the right decision for right now. (through a great amount of emotion)
It calmed down for a minute and everyone hugged Noo. The teacher went on to say,
"Will you teach us the parts to the dances you are in? I know it's been a hard day, and you don't have to."
"Yes, that would be fine."
The teacher walked over to the radio and put on the music lullaby they would be dancing to. I want to find out the name of the song because it was absolutely beautiful. The only problem is that I am a huge music person. Music describes the soul in a way that none else can, other than maybe dance or art. Music is on another level and effects every part of my being.
As the music began, I was overwhelmed and knew I could never control my emotion. Watching my baby girl dance with her company for the last time was intense. She is a beautiful dancer, perfect in timing, movement, energy, flexibility, and strength. I was having flash backs of her as a 3 year old in gymnastics with her little curled pig tails and leotard. I could just visualize the first time she made it into the splits and the huge look of achievement written all over her face. Soon it progressed into beautiful split leaps, flips, and everything involved with gymnastics. Eventually we made the change into dance because that was where her true love was held. She brought her outstanding strength and talents from the gym and incorporated them into her dancing.
I was watching this young lady, my girl, grow up before my very eyes...faster than I could comprehend. How can I hand her happiness and self esteem? How can I convey her beauty and intelligence to her. Every compliment I give is disregarded because I am mom.
Tears were flowing as she graced the floor with her presence.
Her sensitivity came through her dancing, her hurt, her pain, and her happiness for doing what she loved. Her turns were graceful and her leaps soared. I was a wreck, and soon I noticed her teacher crying also. It was powerful, lovely, and perfect. The poor girl sitting next to me was quite terrified I am afraid. She must have thought the world was coming to an end.
And in a way it is.
Her childhood is coming to an end, and she has moved into the tumultuous waters of teenage hood. I was so proud of her for taking and stand and accepting that this is what was best for the moment, and that life would go on.
As the song came finished, I wiped the last tears from my eyes and felt bad I had probably embarrassed her. The teacher looked at me and said, "
"I was fine until she started to dance."
I agreed through my tears and asked if she could still come to classes when she wanted to for fun. She said she could because we were in a contract and had to pay tuition anyway and she may as well use it.
She will be happier still attending classes when she can and to stay on track, but for fun. She doesn't need the stress that the team brings right now, in addition to everything else...but she would be very sad without dance all together.
She finished giving hugs all the way around, and we left.
When we got home, we ate some "Kneaders" salad together and watched
"Funniest home videos."
She insisted that she wasn't hungry, but I knew as her mother that as soon as she tasted the food she would change her mind.
After a bit, I told her it was time for bed.
"But, I'm not tired."
"Yes you are, you just don't know it yet."
She was emotionally exhausted. I walked her into bed, fixed it extra comfortable and tucked her in. She is getting old enough that I don't do this every night and I miss it. I sat by her for a minute and brushed the hair from her face.
"I love you."
"I love you too."
Her eyes were glazed and I looked for her ipod for 10 minutes so she could play "fruit ninja* again at her request. I didn't find it but she had relaxed enough to sleep,
and sleep she did.
Have you ever watched "So you think you can Dance?"
Have you ever seen a performance that moves you so much by it's pure combination of music, feeling, and movement that it overtakes every bit of you and you actually cry?
I have, and it was yesterday.
It wasn't on some reality TV show, but watching Noo's last dance with her company team at Center Stage. I know that not everyone will agree with this decision that Jon and I with Noo made together, but that is OK. One thing I have learned over the course of many children is to start and believe in myself...in the answers and promptings I get for my children and not worry about how other people would do it.
I am the only mother of this child, and I am the one that knows her inside and out. I take time daily studying how my kids act and react in every situation. From the minute they are born, I have been interested in how my children processes the world around them differently and how there is no way to parent each child then same.
I remember watching frustrations between my siblings when one received more than the other, when it was seemingly not fair. I recall my dad saying,
"When you are a parent, you will understand that each child is parented differently. No matter how hare you try to keep it "fair".
In my case, I am the oldest and was lucky to borrow my parents car to drive to school when I was 16, while my sister was helped to buy a car for herself. It didn't made sense to me, but now in hind sight it makes perfect sense.
I was the oldest, and she was the youngest. There was more money to help her with something like that after they got my butt out of the house! I am a completely different mother to Bug than I was to Mack when she was young {monetarily and patience wise}
I am weathered.
I know which storms to engage in and which to let roll over in the sky.
This year has been a long one and has had impact on us all. Noo has had a rough year in school worrying about friends, struggled staying up with math *I can relate*, and most of all wrestled with being a 12 year old girl. If you are a woman, there is no other description needed. Without going into personal, unneeded detail...we decided as a family that for now, she needed a break from company. It's actually amazing we made it as long as we did this year, but she will miss the very fun spring programs and trip to New York to compete.
It was emotional and very hard to tell her coach and team. They all have worked so hard together and some would see this as quitting or giving up. I disagree. We took the harder road to save something more important. We chose to save Noo.
Her instructor asked us to come in and tell the team to their faces and I have to admit, I could barely imagine putting her through that. I almost told her no. Girls can be so mean at this age, and she has already been through so much. In the end, I agreed with her teacher that we want Noo to feel welcome to return at any time and let the girls hug and bond while saying goodbye instead of the nasty back biting that undoubtedly goes on at this age.
We walked into the studio...
"Mom, I don't want to be here..."
"Do you think I want to be here?..."
"umm no?"
"I can go outside and wait for you if you want, or I can stay with you."
"Come with me"
"OK, it will be alright. If they are mean we will just leave."
Some girls from her team saw her and walked past without a hello, and a few decided to greet her. Noo started to tear up and all I could do was stand by her side and wait. Eventually her teacher saw us standing in the hall and said,
"I know it is hard to be here, but it will be over soon."
Being the baby I am that feels intense emotion for others *maybe more than myself most times* I started to tear up also. I remember OH so well the drama, emotions, exhausting feelings of inferiority and thoughts of somehow never being good enough, pretty enough, or talented enough. I am relieving this over and over again in each daughter.
I gave her a hug and we walked to her studio class room. Inside, there were groups of girls chattering, some staring and others waving at Noo.
"Mom, can I play your games on your phone?"
"Yes, of course."
*Fruit Ninja has become her way to deal with stress the past few weeks and she has the highest score I have ever heard of. I mean, this girl can slice fruit like nobodies business.*
Somehow I felt like a young girl again. How can these little eyes everywhere bring me back to my insecurities as a teen? I remember dancing at this age. I remember the body image issues all of them were dealing with but somehow it feels like you are the only one.
The teacher called us over, and by brilliant design had a bucket of popcorn sitting out for the girls. There was a couple ready to perform for the class so we all scooted up against the mirrored wall and waited for the treat about to unfold before our eyes. They were dressed in black and had been trained since early youth *I am sure* in ballroom, ballet, Jazz, and many other specialties.
They began, and I was in awe.
I remember dancing, but it was never anything like this. It is normal for kids now to do at least a triple turn, while I struggled for my double for years. The bar is somehow raised higher and higher and I sometimes wonder what the limit is?? Maybe it's good, maybe it's bad, maybe it's both. The hours of training are unheard of, the stress load on these young kids overwhelming...but as a society we do it.
I wish I had recording t show you the dance they executed, but I don't. It was perfectly choreographed with lifts, turns, cute parts, funny parts and parts that made your mouth drop. They were completely in sync in emotion, body, and energy. It was brilliant.
After it was over, everyone clapped and I knew what was about to happen. The teacher brought everyone around and began to talk:
"Girls, dancing is what we do, it's not who we are. It is more important to be a good person than to be the best dancer. Sometimes at different times in our lives we have to take a break from things to put our lives into order (I can't tell you how happy I was that she was getting it right, and not rude). Noo has decided that it is time for her to take a little break and I wanted to make sure that everyone treats her well. She is always welcome to come back and take more classes. One of the best dancers that came out of Center Stage was a girl that took a 2 year break. I trust that you will not talk behind her back and treat her with kindness. She is a very good dancer and we need to respect their families decision."
By this point I was in tears and so was Noo.
The teacher turned to Noo and asked if she had anything she wanted to add. She shook her head and then the question turned on me. Of course I had to say something....so I just reiterated what had already been expressed, that we didn't want to do this but we knew it was the right decision for right now. (through a great amount of emotion)
It calmed down for a minute and everyone hugged Noo. The teacher went on to say,
"Will you teach us the parts to the dances you are in? I know it's been a hard day, and you don't have to."
"Yes, that would be fine."
The teacher walked over to the radio and put on the music lullaby they would be dancing to. I want to find out the name of the song because it was absolutely beautiful. The only problem is that I am a huge music person. Music describes the soul in a way that none else can, other than maybe dance or art. Music is on another level and effects every part of my being.
As the music began, I was overwhelmed and knew I could never control my emotion. Watching my baby girl dance with her company for the last time was intense. She is a beautiful dancer, perfect in timing, movement, energy, flexibility, and strength. I was having flash backs of her as a 3 year old in gymnastics with her little curled pig tails and leotard. I could just visualize the first time she made it into the splits and the huge look of achievement written all over her face. Soon it progressed into beautiful split leaps, flips, and everything involved with gymnastics. Eventually we made the change into dance because that was where her true love was held. She brought her outstanding strength and talents from the gym and incorporated them into her dancing.
I was watching this young lady, my girl, grow up before my very eyes...faster than I could comprehend. How can I hand her happiness and self esteem? How can I convey her beauty and intelligence to her. Every compliment I give is disregarded because I am mom.
Tears were flowing as she graced the floor with her presence.
Her sensitivity came through her dancing, her hurt, her pain, and her happiness for doing what she loved. Her turns were graceful and her leaps soared. I was a wreck, and soon I noticed her teacher crying also. It was powerful, lovely, and perfect. The poor girl sitting next to me was quite terrified I am afraid. She must have thought the world was coming to an end.
And in a way it is.
Her childhood is coming to an end, and she has moved into the tumultuous waters of teenage hood. I was so proud of her for taking and stand and accepting that this is what was best for the moment, and that life would go on.
As the song came finished, I wiped the last tears from my eyes and felt bad I had probably embarrassed her. The teacher looked at me and said, "
"I was fine until she started to dance."
I agreed through my tears and asked if she could still come to classes when she wanted to for fun. She said she could because we were in a contract and had to pay tuition anyway and she may as well use it.
She will be happier still attending classes when she can and to stay on track, but for fun. She doesn't need the stress that the team brings right now, in addition to everything else...but she would be very sad without dance all together.
She finished giving hugs all the way around, and we left.
When we got home, we ate some "Kneaders" salad together and watched
"Funniest home videos."
She insisted that she wasn't hungry, but I knew as her mother that as soon as she tasted the food she would change her mind.
After a bit, I told her it was time for bed.
"But, I'm not tired."
"Yes you are, you just don't know it yet."
She was emotionally exhausted. I walked her into bed, fixed it extra comfortable and tucked her in. She is getting old enough that I don't do this every night and I miss it. I sat by her for a minute and brushed the hair from her face.
"I love you."
"I love you too."
Her eyes were glazed and I looked for her ipod for 10 minutes so she could play "fruit ninja* again at her request. I didn't find it but she had relaxed enough to sleep,
and sleep she did.
Friday, April 8, 2011
Butterfly Kisses
Yesterday was bitter sweet.
Have you ever watched "So you think you can Dance?"
Have you ever seen a performance that moves you so much by it's pure combination of music, feeling, and movement that it overtakes every bit of you and you actually cry?
I have, and it was yesterday.
It wasn't on some reality TV show, but watching Noo's last dance with her company team at Center Stage. I know that not everyone will agree with this decision that Jon and I with Noo made together, but that is OK. One thing I have learned over the course of many children is to start and believe in myself...in the answers and promptings I get for my children and not worry about how other people would do it.
I am the only mother of this child, and I am the one that knows her inside and out. I take time daily studying how my kids act and react in every situation. From the minute they are born, I have been interested in how my children processes the world around them differently and how there is no way to parent each child then same.
I remember watching frustrations between my siblings when one received more than the other, when it was seemingly not fair. I recall my dad saying,
"When you are a parent, you will understand that each child is parented differently. No matter how hare you try to keep it "fair".
In my case, I am the oldest and was lucky to borrow my parents car to drive to school when I was 16, while my sister was helped to buy a car for herself. It didn't made sense to me, but now in hind sight it makes perfect sense.
I was the oldest, and she was the youngest. There was more money to help her with something like that after they got my butt out of the house! I am a completely different mother to Bug than I was to Mack when she was young {monetarily and patience wise}
I am weathered.
I know which storms to engage in and which to let roll over in the sky.
This year has been a long one and has had impact on us all. Noo has had a rough year in school worrying about friends, struggled staying up with math *I can relate*, and most of all wrestled with being a 12 year old girl. If you are a woman, there is no other description needed. Without going into personal, unneeded detail...we decided as a family that for now, she needed a break from company. It's actually amazing we made it as long as we did this year, but she will miss the very fun spring programs and trip to New York to compete.
It was emotional and very hard to tell her coach and team. They all have worked so hard together and some would see this as quitting or giving up. I disagree. We took the harder road to save something more important. We chose to save Noo.
Her instructor asked us to come in and tell the team to their faces and I have to admit, I could barely imagine putting her through that. I almost told her no. Girls can be so mean at this age, and she has already been through so much. In the end, I agreed with her teacher that we want Noo to feel welcome to return at any time and let the girls hug and bond while saying goodbye instead of the nasty back biting that undoubtedly goes on at this age.
We walked into the studio...
"Mom, I don't want to be here..."
"Do you think I want to be here?..."
"umm no?"
"I can go outside and wait for you if you want, or I can stay with you."
"Come with me"
"OK, it will be alright. If they are mean we will just leave."
Some girls from her team saw her and walked past without a hello, and a few decided to greet her. Noo started to tear up and all I could do was stand by her side and wait. Eventually her teacher saw us standing in the hall and said,
"I know it is hard to be here, but it will be over soon."
Being the baby I am that feels intense emotion for others *maybe more than myself most times* I started to tear up also. I remember OH so well the drama, emotions, exhausting feelings of inferiority and thoughts of somehow never being good enough, pretty enough, or talented enough. I am relieving this over and over again in each daughter.
I gave her a hug and we walked to her studio class room. Inside, there were groups of girls chattering, some staring and others waving at Noo.
"Mom, can I play your games on your phone?"
"Yes, of course."
*Fruit Ninja has become her way to deal with stress the past few weeks and she has the highest score I have ever heard of. I mean, this girl can slice fruit like nobodies business.*
Somehow I felt like a young girl again. How can these little eyes everywhere bring me back to my insecurities as a teen? I remember dancing at this age. I remember the body image issues all of them were dealing with but somehow it feels like you are the only one.
The teacher called us over, and by brilliant design had a bucket of popcorn sitting out for the girls. There was a couple ready to perform for the class so we all scooted up against the mirrored wall and waited for the treat about to unfold before our eyes. They were dressed in black and had been trained since early youth *I am sure* in ballroom, ballet, Jazz, and many other specialties.
They began, and I was in awe.
I remember dancing, but it was never anything like this. It is normal for kids now to do at least a triple turn, while I struggled for my double for years. The bar is somehow raised higher and higher and I sometimes wonder what the limit is?? Maybe it's good, maybe it's bad, maybe it's both. The hours of training are unheard of, the stress load on these young kids overwhelming...but as a society we do it.
I wish I had recording t show you the dance they executed, but I don't. It was perfectly choreographed with lifts, turns, cute parts, funny parts and parts that made your mouth drop. They were completely in sync in emotion, body, and energy. It was brilliant.
After it was over, everyone clapped and I knew what was about to happen. The teacher brought everyone around and began to talk:
"Girls, dancing is what we do, it's not who we are. It is more important to be a good person than to be the best dancer. Sometimes at different times in our lives we have to take a break from things to put our lives into order (I can't tell you how happy I was that she was getting it right, and not rude). Noo has decided that it is time for her to take a little break and I wanted to make sure that everyone treats her well. She is always welcome to come back and take more classes. One of the best dancers that came out of Center Stage was a girl that took a 2 year break. I trust that you will not talk behind her back and treat her with kindness. She is a very good dancer and we need to respect their families decision."
By this point I was in tears and so was Noo.
The teacher turned to Noo and asked if she had anything she wanted to add. She shook her head and then the question turned on me. Of course I had to say something....so I just reiterated what had already been expressed, that we didn't want to do this but we knew it was the right decision for right now. (through a great amount of emotion)
It calmed down for a minute and everyone hugged Noo. The teacher went on to say,
"Will you teach us the parts to the dances you are in? I know it's been a hard day, and you don't have to."
"Yes, that would be fine."
The teacher walked over to the radio and put on the music lullaby they would be dancing to. I want to find out the name of the song because it was absolutely beautiful. The only problem is that I am a huge music person. Music describes the soul in a way that none else can, other than maybe dance or art. Music is on another level and effects every part of my being.
As the music began, I was overwhelmed and knew I could never control my emotion. Watching my baby girl dance with her company for the last time was intense. She is a beautiful dancer, perfect in timing, movement, energy, flexibility, and strength. I was having flash backs of her as a 3 year old in gymnastics with her little curled pig tails and leotard. I could just visualize the first time she made it into the splits and the huge look of achievement written all over her face. Soon it progressed into beautiful split leaps, flips, and everything involved with gymnastics. Eventually we made the change into dance because that was where her true love was held. She brought her outstanding strength and talents from the gym and incorporated them into her dancing.
I was watching this young lady, my girl, grow up before my very eyes...faster than I could comprehend. How can I hand her happiness and self esteem? How can I convey her beauty and intelligence to her. Every compliment I give is disregarded because I am mom.
Tears were flowing as she graced the floor with her presence.
Her sensitivity came through her dancing, her hurt, her pain, and her happiness for doing what she loved. Her turns were graceful and her leaps soared. I was a wreck, and soon I noticed her teacher crying also. It was powerful, lovely, and perfect. The poor girl sitting next to me was quite terrified I am afraid. She must have thought the world was coming to an end.
And in a way it is.
Her childhood is coming to an end, and she has moved into the tumultuous waters of teenage hood. I was so proud of her for taking and stand and accepting that this is what was best for the moment, and that life would go on.
As the song came finished, I wiped the last tears from my eyes and felt bad I had probably embarrassed her. The teacher looked at me and said, "
"I was fine until she started to dance."
I agreed through my tears and asked if she could still come to classes when she wanted to for fun. She said she could because we were in a contract and had to pay tuition anyway and she may as well use it.
She will be happier still attending classes when she can and to stay on track, but for fun. She doesn't need the stress that the team brings right now, in addition to everything else...but she would be very sad without dance all together.
She finished giving hugs all the way around, and we left.
When we got home, we ate some "Kneaders" salad together and watched
"Funniest home videos."
She insisted that she wasn't hungry, but I knew as her mother that as soon as she tasted the food she would change her mind.
After a bit, I told her it was time for bed.
"But, I'm not tired."
"Yes you are, you just don't know it yet."
She was emotionally exhausted. I walked her into bed, fixed it extra comfortable and tucked her in. She is getting old enough that I don't do this every night and I miss it. I sat by her for a minute and brushed the hair from her face.
"I love you."
"I love you too."
Her eyes were glazed and I looked for her ipod for 10 minutes so she could play "fruit ninja* again at her request. I didn't find it but she had relaxed enough to sleep,
and sleep she did.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Friday, October 15, 2010
Alicia
I received this beautiful tribute to Alicia's daughter and wanted to share!
*Thanks Alicia!*One year...
(This is the same as my personal blog, so if you have read it once, you have read it all.)
One year to the minute I was in my 7th hour of labor. I was crying from pain. (remember I didn't get an epi until 12 hours in...). I was scared to death that these 9 months had come and gone. I was going to have to be responsible for more than just myself. I was going to have a screaming (hopefully), beautiful (obviously) baby girl (if all predictions were right). I was finally able to see this precious bundle in all her glory: touch her soft skin, smell her sweet smell. I also was coming to the reality that I now had to share her. She was no longer just mine, she would soon be the worlds. Daddy would want to see her, grandmas, grandpas, aunts, friends. She no longer would be "my baby." I was going to be alone again (kinda). One year ago, I had heard of all the changes in my life that were about to come forth. I knew as soon as I saw her "I'd fall in love." I didn't know how deep that love could be, what it could make you do.
I didn't know the deep gratitude I would have to my Heavenly Father for blessing me with such an amazing miracle. I didn't know that I would one day be covered in poop, spit up, pee, yet be smiling and laughing, for my daughter laughed at her diaper flinging across the room. I didn't know that signing the discharge papers for her as "mother" would throw chilles down my spine. One year ago, I wasn't aware of this secret club going on known as motherhood. One year ago I was so excited that I wouldn't be responsible for anything bad that would happen because of my diabetes. Having her out of me, in my vision, was going to be such a relief. Now, I would give anything to be able to protect her that way again. I wish I could cover her up every time she fell. I wish I could eat 3 meals a day, drink water, and get enough sleep and know I was doing everything in my power to protect her. Now, I only wish it was that simple.
A year ago, I never cared about babies. I had never changed a diaper. I had never held a newborn longer than a minute, let alone change its clothes or burped it. I didn't know breastfeeding would be one of the hardest challenges I'd face this year, but one of the most rewarding when we were finally successful. I didn't know I would cry when I no longer produced enough milk to satisfy her and I knew these moments that were just ours were going to be over forever. I never know how much I could cry and cry and cry about her reaching a milestone, because it ment that she had finally succeeded, but was also getting more independent with each one.
I didn't realize how she would change my relationship with my husband. We have learned to compromise. We have learned to care about more than just ourselves. I have learned that I married one of the kindest men out there. He is so in love with Zoey. A year ago, I didn't know how much I wouldn't mind seeing him light up when he kissed another girl--how much I would love seeing his eyes look only at her in a way I have never seen before. I was scared of loosing "us." We never lost us, we just made it better. I didn't know how much I'd hate going in public with him and not have my darling daughter, because people wouldn't know that I'm a mom, he is a dad. They wouldn't know this sweet little girl was mine. I didn't realize I'd feel guilty of being somewhere and they not know I'm a mom.
I've been bit, puked on, pooped on, kicked, and bonked. I've been attacked with kisses and ran to as soon as I walked in the room. I've been loved in a way I'll never be able to explain. I've had my heart riped out, only to beat in another. I've felt God's love on this earth. I've seen the world in a new, amazing light. I am honored to be called a mom, and be blessed with such an amazing daughter. I now know what love is, what it can do. I am eternaly grateful to be able to say that yes, this crazy, screaming, oppinionated little girl is mine.
One year to the minute I was in my 7th hour of labor. I was crying from pain. (remember I didn't get an epi until 12 hours in...). I was scared to death that these 9 months had come and gone. I was going to have to be responsible for more than just myself. I was going to have a screaming (hopefully), beautiful (obviously) baby girl (if all predictions were right). I was finally able to see this precious bundle in all her glory: touch her soft skin, smell her sweet smell. I also was coming to the reality that I now had to share her. She was no longer just mine, she would soon be the worlds. Daddy would want to see her, grandmas, grandpas, aunts, friends. She no longer would be "my baby." I was going to be alone again (kinda). One year ago, I had heard of all the changes in my life that were about to come forth. I knew as soon as I saw her "I'd fall in love." I didn't know how deep that love could be, what it could make you do.
I didn't know the deep gratitude I would have to my Heavenly Father for blessing me with such an amazing miracle. I didn't know that I would one day be covered in poop, spit up, pee, yet be smiling and laughing, for my daughter laughed at her diaper flinging across the room. I didn't know that signing the discharge papers for her as "mother" would throw chilles down my spine. One year ago, I wasn't aware of this secret club going on known as motherhood. One year ago I was so excited that I wouldn't be responsible for anything bad that would happen because of my diabetes. Having her out of me, in my vision, was going to be such a relief. Now, I would give anything to be able to protect her that way again. I wish I could cover her up every time she fell. I wish I could eat 3 meals a day, drink water, and get enough sleep and know I was doing everything in my power to protect her. Now, I only wish it was that simple.
A year ago, I never cared about babies. I had never changed a diaper. I had never held a newborn longer than a minute, let alone change its clothes or burped it. I didn't know breastfeeding would be one of the hardest challenges I'd face this year, but one of the most rewarding when we were finally successful. I didn't know I would cry when I no longer produced enough milk to satisfy her and I knew these moments that were just ours were going to be over forever. I never know how much I could cry and cry and cry about her reaching a milestone, because it ment that she had finally succeeded, but was also getting more independent with each one.
I didn't realize how she would change my relationship with my husband. We have learned to compromise. We have learned to care about more than just ourselves. I have learned that I married one of the kindest men out there. He is so in love with Zoey. A year ago, I didn't know how much I wouldn't mind seeing him light up when he kissed another girl--how much I would love seeing his eyes look only at her in a way I have never seen before. I was scared of loosing "us." We never lost us, we just made it better. I didn't know how much I'd hate going in public with him and not have my darling daughter, because people wouldn't know that I'm a mom, he is a dad. They wouldn't know this sweet little girl was mine. I didn't realize I'd feel guilty of being somewhere and they not know I'm a mom.
I've been bit, puked on, pooped on, kicked, and bonked. I've been attacked with kisses and ran to as soon as I walked in the room. I've been loved in a way I'll never be able to explain. I've had my heart riped out, only to beat in another. I've felt God's love on this earth. I've seen the world in a new, amazing light. I am honored to be called a mom, and be blessed with such an amazing daughter. I now know what love is, what it can do. I am eternaly grateful to be able to say that yes, this crazy, screaming, oppinionated little girl is mine.
Friday, October 1, 2010
Nicole
Dear Nicole,
Yes, I said Nicole. I know you like to be called Nikki better, it sounds so much more fun and popular doesn’t it? That’s true. But in twenty-three years you will be married to the most amazing man and he will always call you Nicole—because he loves it—and then you will too. I guess this letter should jump straight to the point—the thing you think is absolutely the most important thing in life right now—boys! I know you like them, I know that all your friends are “going with someone” and you want to more than anything. I know you want to fit in and be liked by someone. I know you get jealous because the boys you like all like your best friend instead. My advice is to just enjoy your relationships as they come. Don’t push too hard to find a boyfriend, you will have some. By the time you are in high school you will have a boyfriend for nearly two years and you know what? When he leaves and you start to date again, you will wonder why you ever tied yourself down to one guy. You will love dating lots of boys, having lots of friends, flirting with some, having meaningful relationships with others, and enjoying all of them. Your obsession with boys is an ongoing battle and one that consumes way too much time. After high school, you should also remember that the rules change. Boys are dating on a new level. They see you not as a girl to have fun with or crush on, but a woman they could hopefully marry some day. Don’t play with their emotions when you learn this. Save them and yourself a lot of heartache—you have a lot to do before you get married. I know you’ve wanted to more than anything for so long, but you have a life altering mission that will change you forever. You’ve felt the calling and prompting and know that you need to fulfill some obligations before marrying—trust those instincts and accept your intuitive feelings. It is there that you will meet your husband without even looking. In the one place you go that you aren’t completely boy obsessed is the place you will find who you’ve been looking for. He is so worth it! You will be completely, blissfully happy with an unlikely boy—and one you probably would never have considered dating in high school!
I know right now you also think about being pretty. You have pretty friends whose hair and makeup and skin is so beautiful. Don’t compare yourself. You go through a lot of ugly duckling stages unfortunately. Hang in there. You have years to come of unruly hair, acne, and wearing clothes that aren’t quite as cool as you’d like. You are beautiful just the way you are. By the time you reach high school you will be beautiful. I can say that now because when I look back, I see it’s true. You will feel fat even though you could wrap a bandana around your waist and wear it for a belt. You will be embarrassed by your stubborn outbreaks of acne even though the acne will go away soon. Don’t compare yourself and you will feel so much more beautiful. I know it is hard to believe this but someday you won’t judge beauty by how a person looks. One day you will have the most amazing daughter—who is absolutely the most beautiful thing alive. And guess what, she will have a scar that runs from the hollow of her neck down to almost her belly button, a scar across her abdomen, a scar under her left ear, two ears that need to be surgically reconstructed and a curved spine. I know, right now you are thinking that is horrible—and don’t worry, she also has black curly hair and beautiful blue eyes. But you won’t care about those so much. Every time you see her scars you will know how precious her life is. You will find beauty in every thing she does because you almost didn’t get to enjoy those moments with her. She will be the most beautiful child you have ever seen. And from the moment she comes into your life, you will see that loving a child is the most beautiful thing in the world. Your heart will ache for her, her trials will cause tears and fear and despair during her life but she will teach you about things you wouldn’t learn otherwise. She will teach you about pure love, communion with the spirit, faith, courage, optimism, and enduring to the end. She will be beautiful and you wouldn’t trade those scars for anything.
You will also have three boys. I know you want boys. I know you think that boys are easier to handle and more fun to play with. I’m sure you’re happy to know you have mostly boys. Remember how you feel about them now because there are days your house will feel like a zoo where the animals all got out and are running free. Love them! Take time to play with them. Treasure every moment. You already learned so many precious lessons with your baby girl—make sure you use those lessons with your wonderfully active and crazy boys.
Look outside yourself Nicole. Try to worry less about yourself and think more about others. I know you have a sensitive heart and have always loved others, but you can do it even more. Take the time to lift others. Include others. Get to know those you normally wouldn’t. Tell your parents how much you love and appreciate them. I know you feel this way about them, but don’t be afraid to tell them how wonderful you think they are. Help out where you can and don’t wait to be asked for help to offer it. You will find that this is really what makes the world a better place. Be the kind of person you know you are. You have a strength you haven’t found yet and a desire to love others that will only grow stronger. Don’t be afraid to be the you you want to be!
Love,
Your 35-year-old self
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