Mother's Day

Like each mom I know, I feel grateful just to be along for the ride with my child. 

Sometimes that's more literal than others.

Girls

Last weekend was packed full of family, friends and celebrations. This weekend will be more of the same - only different. Sophia and I went to Columbia for a quick visit. Our main reason for choosing the weekend was to celebrate the impending (sounds ominous) arrival of a baby girl into the family of some great friends. 

This little girl is going to be so loved and well taken care of. She's also going to be cute. I cannot wait to meet her. Sophia's excited about it, too. 

At the baby shower, Sophia was befriended by an adorable and charming little girl. The two of them had a wonderful time walking that delicate sparkly line between being girly and being wacky.

I was so happy to get to celebrate with my friend. I could not be happier for them to get to start this new book (too big to be a chapter) in their lives.

At some point in the celebration, I got a little distracted by my own feelings. Maybe because we're reaching the end of another school year. Maybe because Sophia made me tell her the story of her baby shower. Maybe just because thinking about my friend mothering a daughter makes me think about my own daughter. Whatever the reason, I just couldn't help but be a little distracted by my gratitude for my own girl.

I love her to distraction.

Deep Breath

My olfactory senses are very near to my spirit, or whatever you might call it. The slightest whiff of a particular smell can draw me in or spit me out, depending on the conjuring that follows.

One smell that will always bring fullness to my chest is described here: Yesterday, we finally enjoyed some above-freezing weather. Not only that, the sun came to visit. Sophia and I took the chance to get outside after she got home from school. A cruise downhill on her bike, followed by some digging in the mud, seemed like an appropriate welcome to the first springish day we've had.

After we were inside, I leaned over (not so far these days) to kiss Sophia on her forehead, my nose in her hair. There it was. Spring. Promise. Innocence. Earth. Combined with the scent of my daughter. The result was color and warmth. Memories of the same moment having passed between us hundreds (maybe thousands?) of times. How many thousands more can I manage before I'll have to conjure those memories from words like these rather than from a deep breath?

Hate cannot drive out Hate; only Love can do that. -Dr. King

This week, I have come face to face with one of the biggest challenges of parenting a thoughtful and observant child. Addressing the reality that is the spectrum of human possibility - the lengths to which hatred will go to snuff out the power of love.

Sophia came home from school on Thursday with a booklet about Martin Luther King, Jr. I asked if she had any questions about him. She responded, "No. I already know that the guy shot him." So I knew we were in for a talk. She's not one just to take in that kind of information and move on.

I won't share too many of the details of our conversation. It's too intimate a topic for general revelation.

I will tell you that we extensively covered the topics of hatred, fear, love and forgiveness.

It was quite possibly the hardest conversation that we have had to date. Sophia's world is safe and comfortable. She has never seen anyone as different, even though I'm sure others are aware of their own differences.

Sophia didn't know how much people could hate. Until I told her.

Having to tell my beautiful, innocent and loving child about the fear and hatred that exists in the world was terrible. I didn't want her to understand. I didn't want her to realize fully what humans are capable of doing to one another. I was grateful that I got to tell her about the love that people like Dr. King, Nelson Mandela, Jesus and Gandhi showed to others, even to those who showed them nothing but cruelty and hatred. I got to tell her about the encompassing forgiveness that each of them embodied during their lifetimes. We talked about how love is stronger than hatred. We talked about how we can show others that we love them and help to make the world a safer place, not only for us but for those who live in fear.

As we talked, I woke up.

It's easy to become complacent. To forget where we have been as a people, and where we continue to struggle. As adults, as people who have seen and heard way too much, it's far too easy to hear about atrocities and pains, small and great, with a mental shrug of the shoulders. We might shake our heads, but are we doing it to express sadness or just to clear the image from our minds?

If you choose to look our world in the face, don't forget what Dr. King told us. "Never succumb to the temptation of bitterness."

I want to be a part of creating a world that is closer to the one that Sophia thought we lived in. Closer to the one that Sophia lives in. I want to be worthy of the trust that she puts in me - she puts it in you, too, I guarantee.

 “There comes a time when one must take a position that is neither safe, nor politic, nor popular, but he must take it because conscience tells him it is right.” MLK, Jr

Confession

Sophia was at home for two days this week. She had a low- to middle-grade fever for the first day into the evening. A virus of some sort. I kept her home the second day for two reasons. The first was to follow the rule. The "no fever for 24 hours" rule. Primarily, though, because she did this exact same thing last year around Halloween. I sent her back the day she felt better, and she ended up being sick for the following two days. So, I'm hoping that by giving her the extra day of rest, she'll actually be healthy this time...

Also, I love spending time with her. Which brings me to my confession. I miss her today. Two days of not getting the things done that I had planned to get done. No exercise, no friends, no time to myself. But we giggled and snuggled and talked. And I miss her today.

Today, I'll go get all my errands finished. I'll have a few minutes to myself. No one will have an invisible 5-foot leash on me.

And I'll be so happy when 3:30 rolls around.


*the picture was not from a sick day, but it's still representative of our state for the past two days

Re: Mother's Day

My mother and my daughter. Sometimes it's still weird to think of having a daughter of my own. Weird in the most awesome way imaginable.

I just love being a mom. Especially on Mother's Day. Then Sophia has to smile for pictures.

High Five!

 

Dear Sophia,

When you wake up this morning, you'll be five! It is very hard for me to believe when I stop to think about it, but you are definitely every bit of five.

Last night, as I gathered you into my lap and you still spilled out of it, I couldn't help but think back on a night that doesn't seem that long ago. You were still in my tummy, and I was reading a story to Aaron and William in their room. Aaron wished that you could scoot over a little so there was room on my lap for all three of you.

As I had you there in my lap last night, I said everything that I'd want to say in a letter to you. I'll tell you again here so that years from now, you'll remember each word.

Your daddy and I thank God every day for the day that you were born. You have brightened and filled our lives for the last five years in ways that we couldn't have imagined. You make us smile, and you challenge us to be more true to ourselves. You look at life with such clear eyes and an open heart. You inspire me every day.

Every day when I go to school to pick you up, I smile to myself with pride and excitement that it's you that I'll bring home. Thank you, Sophia, for being you.

Happy birthday to you, Sweet Girl!


Love always,

Your mama

Living in the Eye

 

If you follow the blog or know us at all, I hardly need to tell you that Sophia is a lot. She's not too much, but she is more than most. That is the definition of a "spirited child." I know. Many people will think that "spirited" is just a friendly way of saying "difficult." But the truth is, it's just more accurate. Difficult, as a description, just doesn't cut it. There is so much more to her than challenge. Spirited also falls short of the mark, but I think that's the point. Kids with this type of personality or temperament defy labels and description.

Let me just tell you what makes Sophia a "spirited" child. Focus. A one-track mind. Most kids can be distracted - by something they love to do or by humor. Not so with Sophia. If she gets focused on something, nothing (and I've tried it all) can distract her. Let's say a circus came through in the middle of a throwdown. Even then, if she became interested momentarily, she would come right back to her point with as much fervor as before.

Another characteristic of a spirited child is sensitivity. This is both good and bad. She is more aware of what other people are feeling at any given moment, but she is also more aware of her own feelings and has no qualms about expressing them as largely as she feels them. When she is sensitive and sweet to others, there is no rival for the heart-breaking tenderness she expresses. On the other hand, when she is wailing because of the injustice of not being given a choice on what to eat for dinner, the sensitivity is less charming.

There are several more attributes and countless examples of Sophia's personality. Most days, I start my day with a prayer from the bottom of my heart for patience and enough peace in my soul to sustain us both. Most days my prayers are answered. Other days... Well, I get some alone time when Erick gets home. Please don't misunderstand. Sophia is not too much for me and for Erick. She is just right. And I consider being her parent a gift. Really.

This post has been on my mind for some time. I have debated about whether or not to write about this part of our life. It is hard to open up the tenderest part of our family for public examination, but I know we're not alone in this. I'm hopeful that our experiences will have others laughing, crying, nodding their heads or just reading. It took me a while to decide for sure that I'm all right with this being forever in print (assuming the internet isn't destroyed in 2012). But I decided that when Sophia is an adult, I am okay with her realizing that I understand that there is a lot going on inside of her. And that I have always tried my hardest to help her navigate the many highs and lows of being an emotional being. It's not like that's going to change with time. She will always be Sophia - who is more than most in every way. I am so glad to be her mother.

Happy Mother's Day!

I hope all of the moms I know had a wonderful day today. I've had a lovely Mother's Day with the girl who makes me a mom and the guy who keeps it doable.

I had a feeling I was going to have a fantastic Mother's Day since it all started with a Muffins for Mom event at Sophia's preschool on Friday morning. She has been talking about it for weeks, keeping it secret what they were working on. When she told me about it, she said, "It will be the best day ever!" And, if I'm honest, it came pretty close.

There is just no substitute for being told you're the best mom ever, especially when parenting a 4 1/2 year old who makes the job interesting. When we walked into her preschool, each mom found a picture of their child in a frame made by that child, along with a list of things that each kid knows and/or loves about his or her mom. Here are Sophia and her friend Tommy with their work.



Most of the kids were satisfied with the admiration of their own mothers. Sophia, on the other hand, felt that each and every mother deserved a chance to admire her particular picture frame. Before I really realized what was happening, Sophia started approaching each mom and bringing her over to look at and admire her picture frame. There are about fifteen kids in Sophia's class, so she realized there was a more efficient way to get the job done. She picked up her frame, tucked it behind her back and walked up to another mom. Mind you, she has never met most of these moms. She would ask, "Do you want to see the picture frame I made?" Before a response was often offered, she'd hold it out and wait for the coming accolades. No exaggeration when I say that every single mom in that room saw Sophia's picture. It was a pretty entertaining scene. Sophia's teacher said that she was the first kid to do that. Somehow, I think she'll probably be the last. Here she is showing one mom her frame.



It's a gift and a memory I'll cherish.

My day today has been everything I could hope for. Sunshine and heat. Plenty of time outside and enough activity to remember the day! We started the day with a trip to Laumeier Sculpture Park. We haven't been there since Sophia was born, but it's a place that I really enjoy. This weekend is their Art Fair, so we got to enjoy the music, booths and food as well as the normal sculptures. I had forgotten how much fun I have at that particular park. It's such a great combination of nature and art.



We got pretty hot there, so it seemed like a good idea to head to City Garden to cool down at the splash park. We met Sophia's friend Tommy's family there and had a really great time - until he fell and hit his head. He'll be fine, but neither Sophia or Tommy recovered.

Since getting home, our afternoon at home has been relaxing and refreshing. I am just so grateful to be Sophia's mother and to share parenthood with Erick. It's never simple, but it's always interesting. And more often than not, it's a genuinely good time.

Letting Go

As I mentioned in my previous post, there were a couple of pivotal mothering moments attached to the dance recital for me. Allow me to elaborate.

When planning for the recital, I knew that I would have to leave Sophia backstage with her class while I waited in the audience. However, what I envisioned was walking her into the backstage area and putting her little hand directly into the hand of someone I knew, either her teacher or a parent helper. What happened was that I walked around the side of Jesse Hall to the "Performer's Entrance" and handed her through the door to a couple of young teen helpers who assured Sophia and me "I'll take her to her group" as I shouted after them, "Sophia Creach!" since they hadn't asked her name. I guess her costume was enough to tip them off. So I walked away alone. Around the building and into the "Public Entrance." Teary. Wondering to myself if she was old enough. If I had somehow pressured her into doing this. If those girls were responsible. If she was the first one there. Just wondering.

Then we sat waiting inside the theatre. That's when her teacher came out and I had a funny gut feeling that Sophia was having trouble. If I had seen a trickle of smoke from under the curtain, I would have known without a doubt that it was my little burn victim. As it was, I let them look for me while I lived in a moment of denial. That's when I faced the bigger mothering conundrum. I could have gone backstage right then. Comforted her and held her. She would have felt better. I would have felt better. Useful, even. As it was, I told Hallie that it was best if I didn't go back there, as long as Hallie could comfort her. I told Hallie that if I went back there, Sophia wouldn't dance. I'm still sure that's the case, but it was hard to admit. A very bitter pill. As I went to sit down, it took everything I had not to sprint the other direction. Then came more wondering. Was I being a selfish dancer's mom? Making her do something while she was afraid? Would they really tell me if she couldn't calm down? Did I just hear a whimper from backstage? Is that someone coming for me? Does she feel safe?

I feel like I've said this with every post I've ever done on parenting, but here it comes again. Sophia is a unique child, just as I'm a unique mother. So I don't think my decision was universally the right one. For her and for me? The right one. We both needed to do this on our own. She's only three, but she is strong and independent. If she can feel that at this early, early, early (sorry, my feelings there) stage, then she will only grow in confidence and strength in her own power. I know that she's confident in my power and in my love for her. I think if that's what she needed to feel, I would have gone to her. Afterwards, she never questioned why I didn't come. She only talked about the things Miss Hallie had told her about the smoke. And that she felt better. I love that she was able to be comforted by someone else in that moment. I love it as much as I hate it.

My mother arms got their moment a few songs later when she was sitting in the audience after her dance. The smoke machine came on. I saw her begin to panic and made my way closer. Then she ran to me and I got to squeeze her as tightly and comfort her as much as I wanted. It felt good.

We both reached a milestone that night.

All in a Day

Saturday was a great day in a great weekend. The weather is hot. The sun is out. The mud is ideally "goopy." I noticed the irony in the fact that on the morning of Sophia's debut as a ballerina, she was covered head to toe in mud. She's probably not the only dancer who starts the day with a skin treatment, but I bet she enjoys it the most!

 

That was followed up by a swim with Aaron and William.

 

Then a good nap and off to the dance recital!

Here's how that went down: I will possibly post later about the trauma of leaving my tiny girl at the back door of Jesse Hall, but for this, let's just say I dropped her off and went inside. Once inside for a while, I saw her teacher come out from backstage and mouth to a parent helper ".... freaking out." I knew immediately that would be Sophia. None of the other kids are freakers. Cryers or crazies, perhaps, but not freakers. That's Sophia.

Sure enough, they had tested the smoke machine back there. Have I mentioned before that Sophia has what has played out as a full fledged phobia of smoke and sizzling - the symptoms of fire? Since she burnt her hand and had the accompanying surgery, she has been deathly afraid. So, when they turned on the smoke back there, she "freaked." Hallie came out to ask me whether or not I should go back to calm her down. I said, obviously I don't want her freaking out, but if I go back there, we're done. So Hallie took care of it, and I never knew for sure how it would turn out. I may blog more about that another time too.

Anyway, the first we saw of her, she was being led onto stage with the other 3- to 5-year-olds in her class. Still teary, she looked at Miss Hallie and gave her a quick thumbs up. My heart shattered into a million pieces. I haven't yet determined if the breakage was a happy or sad one. I'll analyze that another day. Regardless, Sophia completed the dance with gusto. She actually looked the right direction more than a couple times. She still seemed to want to have a conversation with the girl next to her at the one turn, but all in all, a great showing.

The grandparents were kind enough to take the gamble that she would perform.

 

And now we have the summer to recuperate. I have the summer to keep her all to myself. And I plan on it.

 

Happy Three Sophia!!

Dear Sophia,

Happy birthday, Sophia! I cannot believe that it was three whole years ago that I first laid eyes on you. It seems like I've known you forever.

This birthday has been made extra special by the birth of your baby cousin Henri! Having that tiny beautiful baby come so close to your birthday has brought back so many meaningful memories for me. I will never forget the first time I held you in my arms, and amazingly, you feel just as good to me now when I can get you to hold still. There are times I walk into your room while you're sleeping, and I still catch my breath at the sight of your peace-filled and innocent face.

I really love getting to know you. You are an original. As frustrating as it will be to others (probably a future partner), I love the way you scoff at the rules that govern play and life. You don't need a reason to be. You just are. You just do. You are completely free to love and be loved.

From all the books and from the advice of those who have gone before, I am ready for this year to be a challenging one for you and for me. But I plan to make the most of it. I fully expect to learn as much about myself as you learn about the world during this year. So far being your mother has been the most educational experience of my life. Thank you for being patient with me. I'll do my best to return the favor.

I love you, Sophia. I hope your birthday is as beautiful as the little girl we're celebrating!

This is going to get difficult

Sophia is going to turn three in a couple of weeks. Surprisingly, she has developed a new attachment issue with me in the last week or so. She doesn't like the idea of leaving me. She has fussed at the gym when I leave, and she complains when I leave for meetings and such. This is incredibly unusual for her. Normally she's thrilled with the gym once she gets there and she doesn't notice once I'm gone.

I assume that because she's getting older and more independent, this is her way of checking back in to be sure it's okay that she's doing stuff on her own. This is where it gets hard for me. I am so excited that Sophia is becoming independent, doing things on her own and creating her own identity already. But if she is the one coming back saying, "Mommy, I want to go home and snuggle with you," where inside of myself am I going to find the will to say no? She'll be independent eventually! She doesn't have to do it right now! That's what my insides scream while my lips say something like, "Sophia, you can try this for five minutes. If you want to go home after that, we'll go." I have never had to honor that commitment. Once she gets started on something by herself, or in a class, she runs with it and loves it. So who am I to give in to that little side of herself that wants to hole up with her mama when there is a whole world to explore?!

Case in point. This morning was her second Movin' and Groovin' class at Tryps. I got the feeling last time that the teacher would like to see what Sophia would do on her own, without me around. She's the oldest one in the class, as I mentioned, so all the other parents stay. But Miss Hallie was confident in Sophia's need for independence. So today, even after Sophia had asked if I would please stay with her the whole time, I said I needed to do some birthday shopping for her and she could stay with Miss Hallie. She didn't hop off with her usual bounce, but she didn't scream either. Pretty sure I wouldn't have the guts to leave Miss Hallie with a screamer, even if she insisted that it would be fine. Fortunately, Sophia didn't test me on that one.

After I left her there, I was a bit of a nervous wreck for about the first ten minutes. I only leave her at the gym, church and with babysitters. This was a whole new experience for both of us. She had a learning commitment that in no way involved me. I went to Panera and got a coffee. Then I sat with a view of the door of the class (Tryps is in the mall across from Panera). Drumming my fingers on the table, looking very suspicious, I'm sure. I couldn't handle that any more, so I went to Target and bought a couple of clearance shirts. It helped a little. That left about 20 minutes left of the 30 minute class. So I sat and watched, waited and fidgeted. I have no idea what I was worried about. I even recognized that fact at the moment I was worried. I laughed at myself because I am not typically tightly wound, but I was in such unfamiliar territory. For the last five minutes of the class, I stood outside the door trying to see what was happening but trying to stay out of eye contact with Sophia and the teacher. Neither of them needed to know that I was hovering.

As the class ended, Sophia bounded to me and then stopped abruptly. Ran back to Miss Hallie with her finger up and said, "Oh, I almost forgot! Goodbye and thank you!" Sigh. She's got it together so much better than I do. I just hope she doesn't figure that out.

Oh yeah, and next time I'm taking a book. It will be cheaper than "waiting" in Target.

Becoming her mother

I suppose it's inevitable. We all eventually become our mothers, right? I guess sometimes it happens sooner than others.

Sophia put my glasses on the other day, and, while I thought she looked really cute, I was surprised at how much she looked like me. Is it just me?



Apparently, part of "being mommy" is having a nasally voice? Because she began to hold her nose while saying, "I'm mommy!" Either that or someone in this house stinks. I don't know which is worse.

Two Nights

When Sophia wakes up from her nap, I am taking her to Grandmary's house to stay for (choking) two nights. The only other time we have left her for two nights was for our trip to New Orleans last fall. Something about two nights seems like an eternity. I am completely and fully aware that I am being ridiculous. But I'm just saying. I am going to miss my baby. Look at her!

We are going to the Lake with some friends to - well, to do as close to nothing as humanly possible. I think we will care for ourselves at some basic level, but we may just hope for the best. So, yes, I am looking forward to that like you wouldn't believe. I'm not going to spend my weekend pining for my almost-3-year-old. But if I shed a tear when I pull out of that driveway, don't judge me.


(In the picture, my eyes are closed because I'm Sleeping Beauty, and she is Prince Charming. She's kissing me to wake me up. See what I mean?)

Quick Trip

Sophia and I made a round trip to Illinois yesterday to see my grandparents. I have been missing them, and we can never seem to find a weekend that will work for that trip, for some reason. Not to mention Sophia's trouble sleeping in a bed other than her own. So I decided to put the DVD player in the van and head up for lunch and a little visit.

Sophia was very excited to see Granny and Papa and their dog Duke. We didn't have time to visit the cows because we were busy in the kitchen. Sophia and our cousin worked on making cookies for a long while. Since there was no holiday in sight, Grandma just found all the animal cutters she could find. They had a great time making chickens, pigs, elephants, donkeys, and more chickens.



I do wish that we lived closer so these visits weren't so few and far between, but it was definitely worth the time in the van. Sophia was a wonderful travel partner! This was the longest trip we've made without Erick, and she didn't complain one bit! She did cry for a few minutes because she missed her daddy, but then she started telling more stories. The DVD player stopped working when we were still two hours from home. I thought this would be a disaster. I was wrong. Sophia began quoting books and singing songs and we told each other fairy tales for the rest of the trip. Honestly, that was worth the entire trip right there. It was a really sweet time for me.

This was my view for the trip. Corn out the windshield. A princess in my mirror. Not a bad way to spend a Monday.

Love this Day

Mother's Day might just be the best day of the year. Most of all, I get to celebrate being a mom to this kid:

It's a day set aside to celebrate women who have had babies. I happen to love my baby, and I just love my job. I hang out with and help the coolest kid I know develop her already incredible personality.

Also, on Mother's Day, I get to relax and let Erick change the poopy diapers. He does that a lot on weekends anyway, but on Mommy's Day, he doesn't even look to see if I'll get it first! What is not to love about this day?!

Happy Mother's Day!

Random Cuteness

Since Sophia's been back to herself, she has had A LOT to say about everything. So here are a few things that have caught my attention in the moment.

-The other morning, Sophia and I went out to McDonald's for breakfast. It was a yummy treat for both of us. Anyway, we sat in the booth in between the soda fountain and the bathroom. It's the ideal location for people watching, and we're both experts. As an older lady walked out of the bathroom, I looked up just in time to see Sophia throw her a big thumb's up! I was disappointed that the lady didn't notice, but when Sophia saw me laughing, she said, "I told her 'Go ahead!'"

-Transitions are our biggest battle right now. I have lots of horror stories about trying to get Sophia's coat on or diaper changed or trying to go somewhere, but those aren't funny. One morning when we got in the van, she looked up at a smiley face sticker on the back of my headrest and said, "Stop smiling at me, Smiley Face!" She repeated it several times until she decided the sticker was not listening. I guess she didn't get his sense of humor.

-The same day, Sophia was sitting in the van with Lulu reading a book when we stopped at a stoplight. When the van stopped, Lulu fell on the ground. Sophia yelled, "Van! Stop crashing my Lulu down! She could hurt herself!"

-Whispering is one of Sophia's new favorites. She loves to whisper, especially to Lulu. They will be whispering secrets back and forth for a long time in her tent or on my bed. Sometimes Lulu is even funny and cracks Sophia up!

-I'm starting to see a pattern here, are you? Many of Sophia's favorite activities involve imaginary friends and enemies. Hmmm.

-The best one was a deeper than expected discussion about trusting God. Last week, we had a Veggie Tales movie from the library about Gideon and trusting God. She brought it up one day by mentioning that we have to trust God, and Erick and I encouraged a discussion about it. I asked her if she knew that God loved her even more than the great big amount that Mommy and Daddy did. She said no and sat thinking for a few minutes. Then she said, "I can trust my mommy and my daddy, and that's how I can trust God!" Wow. I think that's the entire job of parenting right there. Just don't screw it up for God.

This is what I get

for checking Facebook after loading the dishwasher. What a rookie mistake. A mom ALWAYS needs to check silent kids. It was my desire to leave her undisturbed that made me do it.

She had put the shirt on her head earlier when she wouldn't allow me to help her get dressed. Funny, this happens just days after my Parents as Teachers educator asked if she was interested in dressing herself. I would change my response now. Anyway, the shirt on the head wasn't as funny until it seemed to be part of her schtick.

These are Curious George Band-aids. Now we're out. What you can't see in the picture is that she's chewing on a large piece of paper. For what reason, I have no idea. I really, really didn't leave her alone that long. She's just quick, this one. And yes, she's back there alone right now. I can see her, though. Dragging around a big bear and fixing his "ouchies." Oops. She just closed herself in my closet. Lord, help us.