Trying to try harder

I received a few IMs from my buddy MarkD down in the Caymans. He is one of the very, very few who apparently still keep up with this dwindling blog. Thanks, Mark!

That prompted me to look back at a few of my old posts, and I realized how much this blog that I started over 6 years ago helps me to remember the past.

I was reading my posts from when Katrina hit New Orleans, and if I hadn't put my feelings down on virtual 'paper', I don't know that I would see them as clearly now.
I have a terrible memory and often have to be reminded of things that have happened in the past by other people. It's getting worse with time too . . .

So, as I've said before, I'm going to try harder to update more often. My middle baby turns 14 tomorrow and when I began this thing, she was John's age, just 7. Seems like a lifetime ago. I do remember back then being afraid to face my kids getting older and not needing me as much. Now that it's here, I see that most of my fears didn't come to be. Maybe that means I should start worrying less? That probably won't happen.

Two in the double digits

My middle offspring is 10 years old today. I'll never forget the day I turned 10, my dad telling me 'You're out of the single digits forever, it'll be double digits from now on'. And I really stopped and thought about it for a minute and it made me feel excited. But kind of sad, at the same time, because even back then, I knew that my 'little kid' years were mostly behind me.

I love the picture of Emma above. I found it for the first time a few minutes ago in a folder of 'Anna's pictures' that she had taken in New York in July. This one gives me a glimpse of what Emma might look like as a teenager. And I love the way her wet hair made little puddles on her shoulders. We had been to Coney Island and were on the subway ride home. The girls had played in the sand and the ocean like little kids. Giggling and pushing each other in the water. It was just getting dark and as I watched them, I smiled because it brought me back to a time when they were my 'little girls' and so young and innocent. I can distinctly remember thinking back then about how, in a few years, I would long for the times when all they did was play and didn't have a care in the world. I was right to think that I would miss it. I do.

We're in a totally different stage now. A stage of friends. And rumors. And boys. And shopping. And all that 'tween stuff'. We went shopping at the mall last night, just the girls. The three of us and two friends. We had the best time. I connect with my girls so much as 'friends' now, and it reminds me of the relationship that I built with my mom, when I was their age. It's a different stage, but a good one. The innocence is still there too, and I hope a little of it always is. Just when I was feeling like Emma was a little too grown up for my taste, she asked me yesterday 'Mom, do they ever run out of room for people in heaven or can everyone fit?' and I'm challenged to figure out something I never would have thought of otherwise. She keeps me on my toes, that middle child.

Emma helps me so much to laugh, to point out things that otherwise would have gone unnoticed and to keep my faith alive. Happy 10th, my Em'!

The Sun and the Clouds

Remember this post way back when? Probably not, because no one read my blog way back when (but since then I've gained you 5 readers - woo-hoo!!)

It was about noticing. About how most times we don't even notice that we're not noticing. Back then, I was making an attempt to be more observant, more appreciative of all of the beauty that surrounds me. I'm still working at it; it's something that I have to make a conscious effort to do most times. But you know who helps me? Emma.

Emma notices clouds, the sun, the moon, the water, she sees beauty in all of it and the best part of it is, she points it out to all of us. Monday, as we were on the way to school, (it was a very gloomy, rainy day), she said:

'Mom, look at all those black clouds. That's not good'.

Me: 'No. I think it's going to be a rainy day'.

Em: 'But if you look real close, you can see the pretty white clouds underneath over there'.

Me (struggling hard to see without crashing the car): 'I can't see them'.

Em: 'Yeah, you see, they're trying to push the ugly clouds out of the way so they can get through'.

I just grin.

She looks at me and says 'What, Mom?'. I say 'I just like the way you put things sometimes'.

She shrugs her shoulders and says 'Well . . . it just makes them seem more alive'.

Exactly.

(and then there was John M. yesterday, while trying to watch his Dora DVD in the car. The sun had the nerve to come out and shine in his eyes. He asked me in a really whiney tone, 'Mom, can you turn the sun OFF?!' There's a lot I can do, but there's one thing I can't. Sorry-o).

(PS. John has started POOPING in the potty! I can't remember the last time I was this excited.)

Friends Forever . . . well, almost

Yesterday, when I got home, Emma was tucked away in a back room we have. Mark calls it his 'office', I call it his 'junk room', or 'the room full o' crap'. Anyway, that's where our computer is.

Emma yells out, 'Mom, how do you spell 'swear'? I tell her.

Next, 'Hey, how do you spell 'solemnly'?'

'Did you just say 'solemnly'?

'Yeah, I'm typing something'. Okay, I tell her.

Me: 'So, what are you typing?'

Her: 'An agreement'.

Okay, I'm really interested now. She tells me she's typing a 'best friend agreement' with her friend, Kellie and she reads it to me. It goes something like this, "I, Emma, solemnly swear, to be best friends with Kellie until 9th grade. This is a secret. If you tell anyone, you are out of the club."

I asked 'What happens after ninth grade?'. She says, 'Well, Mom, by ninth grade, you're almost to college, and you may go to different colleges, so you can't be best friends anymore. But maybe you will be'.

I love her so much.

Oh no, not two of them . . .

When I looked at this picture from last weekend, I saw it for the first time . . . what I talked about last year here. Do you see it? Emma looking not so much like a little girl, but more like a 'tween'. Say you don't see it. Because if it's happening, I don't know if I can handle two of them!

How did my mom do it?