My biggest problem...

I basically do this to Loulie at least once a month and poor Tad suffered the same scene at about 5am this morning...

What is love?

Baby, don't hurt me, don't hurt me no more. (I really can't say the above sentence without picturing Will Ferrell bobbing his head back and forth. If you didn't grow up in the 90s and don't know what I'm talking about, then I really can't help you.)
Loulie's class party was at school today. This created a dilemma since in my mind I had it on the calendar for Wednesday, that is until I finally read the class email Saturday night at 11:00 wherein the room mother explained that the class party was moved to Monday due to Ash Wednesday services at the church. Since Loulie originally suggested that we make our own Valentines that are orange with sprinkles (i.e. glitter) that shoot out and then it turns into a sticker, I asked her again Sunday morning what exactly she wanted to give as her valentine. She decided she wanted her "valentime" to be cookies shaped like a heart. Which is how I came to be standing at the counter at 12:15 on a Sunday night icing 50 homemade heart shaped cookies. And as I stirred that giant bowl of diabetic coma inducing sludge, I thought about the insane things we do at the request of our children (and how stupid I am for thinking this would only take 30 minutes).
Like the time my mother stayed up all  night sewing me a dress to wear to my good guy friend's bar mitzvah the next day while also suffering through strep that had moved to her organs. I'm sure that was a real good time--I can barely make it up the stairs at 99.9 degrees, forget full body pain, sore throat and feverish. But finish she did! And did I feel like a young Kelly Kapowski in my fitted velvet shift dress with slightly puffed sleeves (again, if you are not a child of the 90s, I cannot help you with these references).  I danced my tail off that night and held my own with my slightly more developed friends who could actually buy a dress off the rack without having to stuff or take the bust in six inches. No, I felt good in my homemade shift dress, completely clueless to my poor mother who probably launched herself into the bubonic plague finishing the hem. I don't know if I ever properly thanked her but I think it might have gone down like this...
When Loulie got up this morning and walked into the kitchen, her little mouth formed into a perfect O and after a brief pause and slight inhale exclaimed, "Oh mama, those are MAGNIFICENT!"

 

 Love makes us do crazy things people.

P.S. Loulie Bug, if you are 35 and reading through your mama's old blog post, this would be a great time to weigh whether or not you should move me into your carriage house or ship me off to the nursing home. Just saying.

Happy week of love friends!
(and thank you Mom for the countless hours of lost sleep)

Playing Catch Up

It was my intention to write a new post every day last week. That did not happen since staying at my parents' house is like taking a trip to the pioneer days when it comes to internet connection. Since it takes a good thirty minutes to load a web page there, I decided to save all stories and photos for when I came home. So now we are back after an activity packed week in Knoxville. Luckily, I had the foresight to sign Loulie up for a three hour a day camp this week which has allowed me to catch up on cleaning, yard work and sales calls. You can probably guess that the over 100 temperatures have left Bert and the ice business overworked. We missed him a ton last week and are so happy to all be back under one roof even if it means only seeing him a few minutes here and there.
I finished two books last week that were so amazing and have lots of pictures to share but for now I'll be brief and post on our fourth celebration later.

In the meantime, what do I do with this child? We have more drama over here than on SoapNet. In just a few weeks, she has aged from 2.5 to 25 years old. My mother bought her that horse pocketbook. She hasn't left the house without it, her new orange boat shoes, her lipstick on, a watch and/or one of her new necklaces. So many times throughout the day I get a glimpse of what life might be like when she is a teenager. One thing about raising a girl--they are emotional! One minute she is my shadow and the next she is breaking into tears and slamming her bedroom door. (See?--teenage girl.) Our scale begins at 1 being "I want to be just like you" copying my every move to 10 being a "I TOLD you I want my daddy" (with emphatic hand gestures). If this is what I am dealing with at 2.5, what will it be at 13? I don't know. But I have been looking at houses on the market with carriages houses or at least a mother in law sweet, for me that is. The trade off to all this drama is also having the sweetest, snuggling side kick that just so happens to love all the things I do and tells me daily that her favorite part of the day was "being with mama." I'll take it, drama and all. 


I'll stop there since I am sweltering in our 89 degree upstairs. The AC is out so I am selling 200 sq ft ice machines out of an office that feels like the inside of an oven. Bert has fixed two ACs this week for friends but has told me ours is beyond repair. Ironic? I think so. 
Stay cool friends! XOXO!

A week of performances...

I have found that it is impossible to experience anything now without viewing it through the lens of motherhood. Whether good or bad, I think there is no going back.

With the weekend starting, I decided to squeeze in a quick Piccolo Spoletto performance before the festival ends this weekend. I look forward to Spoletto all year and try to get to at least one performance each season. I dropped LB off at the Children's Museum with a sitter and hauled down Meeting Street arriving hot and winded at the Footlight Players in just enough time to find my seat. I have always enjoyed the Dance at Noon series because it allows you to see a variety of different styles and schools as well as support young artists. This year, while sitting in the cool, dark auditorium watching the high school dancers; my mind floated back to how much dance has always meant to me. There was a shorter girl in the front row who couldn't help but share her love of dance with the huge smile she was beaming. I wondered how much she practiced and whether dance was a "popular" hobby at her high school.How many Saturdays had she spent at her studio? DId her mother wait in the car or come in and watch? There was only one male in the entire company--strong and handsome, I wondered too if he caught any slack from friends for being a male dancer. And then I remembered how much I used to love performing on stage and how dance was such an outlet for me--in my teen years when everything seems difficult and then just for fun as I moved on into my twenties.

Suddenly, I felt so proud of these kids and how hard they had worked and what a big deal it must be for them to be performing in Charleston for the festival. And then, because these lenses are permanently screwed in, how proud their parents must be. And then I thought of how next year Loulie can come with me. And I wonder if she will love dance as much as I do. And before I knew it, I was all choked up and teary eyed in the cold, dark auditorium watching these kids perform.

Which is EXACTLY why I LOVE dance--because if performed well, a piece will always evoke some kind of emotion from the audience. And then a mother "woohoo"ed! And everyone cheered and one of the dancers started smiling bigger.

 I don't know if Loulie will love dance as much as her mother or even more but I can't wait to see what God places on her little heart to be passionate about. If it is not dance, then I can't wait to learn all about what she gets into. Because I can promise you this, whether dance or soccer or cross country or challenge of the gladiators; I will always be the mother obnoxiously "woohooing" in the back!

Just like I did last Wednesday...

(yes, that is me in the background along with Bert shamelessly yelling "Go Loulie WOOO.")

Dang--and now I am teary eyed again. 

Have a Happy Weekend!

A little late, as usual...

I was out of town and didn't post anything for Mother's Day but this story below got me thinking about the most generous people I know and how much I admire them for their sacrifices and just the way they give and share with such ease. Which of course made me think of my mother and all she has given me and how I am trying to now emulate that in my own parenting. That I am not trying to exactly copy everything my mother did but instead make sure that each gift I give and lesson I teach to Loulie is laced in love and sacrifice like those of my mother's.  We all know a mother's purpose never ends so Happy Belated Mother's Day to my mom and all the other mother's I know that inspire me all the time with their "precious stones" of wisdom! I love you!

A wise woman who was traveling in the mountains found a precious stone in a stream. The next day she met another traveler who was hungry, and the wise woman opened her bag to share her food. The hungry traveler saw the precious stone and asked the woman to give it to him. She did so without hesitation. The traveler left, rejoicing in his good fortune. He knew the stone was worth enough to give him security for a lifetime. But a few days later he came back to return the stone to the wise woman. "I've been thinking," he said, "I know how valuable the stone is, but I give it back in the hope that you can give me something even more precious: Give me what you have within you that enabled you to give me the stone."

First Playground brawl....

I have a lists of items to write about on my desk and no where on it is listed the above subject. However after the altercation I experienced this afternoon, with a five year old I might add, I am left speechless and stunned so there is nothing left for me to do but write about it. Because my adrenaline is still pumping and I have now experienced that even in the postmodern world we live in, there is still a very carnal, protective instinct that can spring up on a mother when her young is threatened.

Allow me to set the scene...

This afternoon in Charleston was beautiful--almost 80 degrees and sunny. We headed over to the James Island park so Loulie could get out some energy. There are two sides to the playground, a 2-5 year old and a 6-12 year old. The 6-12 is one of those play sets on stilts that has multiple slides and ladders. Underneath the slides, there are games on the stilts. Loulie wanders over to one of the stilts that has a piano and immediately starts laughing and pushing the buttons. (Bert and I are right behind her.) A five year old girl--we'll call her green shorts--comes up and starts playing next to Loulie. Within seconds another five year old girl, we'll call her The Spawn, comes out of nowhere and starts pushing and clawing green shorts knocking Loulie back in the process. Bert and I stand there sort of stunned before we can pull Loulie back towards us. I am thinking that the two girls have to know each other for the Spawn to feel so comfortable threatening green shorts but I am still feeling uncomfortable watching them fight. I grab Loulie who is still wanting to play with the buttons and say "No mam, you can't play with someone who isn't being nice to their friends."

Green shorts takes this opportunity to break free and head over to find her parents on the other side of the play yard and Spawn with no one left to torment walks away. So I let go of Loulie and she heads back to the piano. She isn't standing there five seconds (with Bert behind her and me on her right) when Spawn runs out of no where and slaps her. Bert immediately huddles around Loulie with a leg on each side while I bend over and tell the little girl not to lay a hand on my baby again. 

Here is the shocker---the little girl does not run away or even move but leans towards Loulie AGAIN! I move to Loulie's left where the child is standing and say in my stearnest voice not to touch Loulie to which she still does not move. Keep in mind this is a matter of seconds, my heart is racing and this child is still leaning on Bert's arm so that he can't really move and looking at Loulie.

"Where is your mother?" (Blank stare.) "You need to go find you mama."

To which the child responds a defiant NO. By this time, Bert is trying to move Loulie away and I tell the child one last time not to dare touch my baby again and that she needs to go get her mother. 

Well, the kid runs off and she and her mother round the ladder about the time Bert and I have gathered Loulie up. I never looked the mother in the eye mainly because I was too scared of what I would say. Bert tells me she gave me the once over but kind of shrank back when she saw the two of us with a one year old. (I'm pretty sure the child did not run over and admit that she had beat on a one year old but that a mean old lady got mad at her. I'm also pretty sure that once the mother saw the two of us and Loulie that things started to add up.)

As Bert and I crossed the playground we looked over to see the the girl thrashing around and repeatedly hitting the outside of a slide. Bert looked at me and said "that kid has problems."

No kidding!

But what do you do in a situation like this? I am serious, I need advice. I am the most nonconfrontational person but something flipped in me today when this kid attacked Loulie out of no where. I was uncomfortable when the Spawn was hitting Green Shorts but nothing like how I felt when I saw her go after my own baby. The thing about it was that Loulie could not defend herself against someone this old--she can hardly talk. And I have never seen a child totally unprovoked hit a younger child with two parents watching. It was scary! I think the smart thing to do would have been to immediately remove Loulie but how fair is that?--take away your child from the fun treat because a bully's parent isn't watching them torment everyone on the playground. On a much larger scale, isn't that what people did during the holocaust, the genocide in Rawanda, etc?--turn their attention elsewhere because they were scared to get involved. I know my child is not perfect and will do unkind things but I hope nothing ever as intentional and as disrespectful and as cruel as what I witnessed today.

As we walked away, I started to get anxious and paranoid (result of the adrenaline) when Bert said, "Well done Mama Bear."

"You think I did the right thing?"

"I do."

I have been thinking on this for the past several hours on what my reaction could have taught Loulie and on what I want to teach Loulie--to turn the other cheek or that I will always be there to defend her or that she needs to fight her own battles. I'm not sure there is a right answer and regardless of my reaction, I know I would find a critic somewhere. But I do know this--if confronting a bully on behalf of my child might bring me criticism, then I don't think I'm out to win a popularity contest. There are a lot of things I will do wrong as a parent but protecting my child in an innocent situation is not one of them.

It is amazing how parenthood can be such a joy and then just suckerpunch you out of no where.

At least Bert has temporarily abandoned his title as most overprotective parent, that goes to helicoptor mom. Now I am going back to my bubble--I like it there. :)

The little things...

I am by nature a pretty anxious person. As a child I pretty much worried about everything from hitting a double pirouette in ballet class to the depleting ozone. About five years ago, the Lord spoke Matthew 6 to me so clearly and it changed the way I lived and looked at life. But beneath my faith, I still have a worrisome personality that can pop up on me every now and then. I knew parenthood would guarantee moments that would send me into a tailspin of worry. What I didn't know and what the Lord has chosen to surprise me with over and over again, is that these tiny moments of worry are useless and can be changed into moments of sheer victory and joy and pride.
Like today, Loulie and I were at her peewee gymnastics class. Keep in mind that Loulie does not have tons of experience with a room full of toddlers all vying for the same toys she wants. I get nervous that an uncontrollable tantrum could occur or even worse that she could get hurt or not included--all things that may not seem like a big deal to someone who is not her mother but that I wrestle with as I stand back and watch her navigate her new surroundings. 
First event--we were supposed to stand at the bottom of an elevated gym mat and verbally encourage our child to allow a complete stranger (the teacher) to roll them over a ball into a flip. I'm not sure who was more nervous--me or Loulie but I'm pretty sure it showed more on my face than hers. She was clearly confused, a bit scared and did not do the most stellar flip. I clapped and congratulated her and suggested we move on. But she stopped and watched some more kids take their turn and without me saying a thing, she got back in line to do it again. She still looked a bit undecided on whether or not this was a good idea but she tried again on her own accord. And I could not have been more proud! She landed that flip--think Kerry Strug--it was that kind of victory.
Second event--cleaning up the bouncing balls. Loulie gets attached to toys, as in she does not want to give them up and can throw a whopping tantrum when something is taken from her before she is ready. So I stood on the sidelines watching silently, praying there would not be a scene. Loulie stood by looking from the bin back to her ball and then to the bin. And then she did it. When the teacher asked for her ball, she placed it in the bin, turned around and had the biggest smile on her face running back to me. An "I did it" look beaming.


And I can parent on those two moments for weeks because in spite of my own insecurities and fears of things I may be passing on to Loulie or all the things that I could be doing wrong, the Lord showed me once again that worry of any kind is useless and that he has her sweet and eager to learn heart right in his hand. That by love and (with his help) a good example, that she will be able to persevere through any fear and do the right thing. 
This probably sounds like not a big deal to most, but I find that it is the little things, the small lessons from above that encourage me when the daily responsibilities and pressures of raising a whole and happy person become a bit overwhelming. I should probably start taking some tips from my Bug-- just get back in line and try again.
Thank you Bugs for always surprising me, showing me your sweet and loving spirit and encouraging me in my job as a mother everyday. Proud doesn't even cover it!