Well, it's here...can you hear that? It's almost the end of the school year and I actually think I'm ready for it. This week has been a full cocktail of feelings...anxiety mixed and over ice with fear as well as excitement in a LARGE glass of gratification. It's a scary thing to put yourself out there, not knowing if you will sink or swim. It's hard to decide if you are brave enough to jump into the deep end and leave your worries behind, if for only one moment. It's a slippery slope to want something to be a success while at the same time knowing the fact you've accomplished anything, is well, enough. And then there is potty training a 3 year old...
I should know what the hell I'm doing by now...right? I mean I do have three other children who are entirely capable and are no longer wearing plastic pants...but I'm stumped. This charming, very verbal, completely coordinated 3 year old just will not get it. I've pulled out all of the old tricks: candy, sticker charts, superhero undies, promising animals we can't actually house, promising toys we can't afford. Everything short of a bourbon and ginger ale, and let's face it that's my reward, I have promised this kid and he won't use the toilet. Oh, don't get me wrong, he's good at making it 'appear' like he is getting the hang of things, taking initiative and understanding what he should do. It's the doing it that is a problem...cut to us playing Uno on Saturday, and me looking up, only to see him standing in the window, that unmistakable 'grunt-like-look' on his face...and then looking at me and saying, "...ah mommy, I pooped..." At this point I'm thinking I'm going to have to home-school him.
The struggles of a child who can't decide if she likes sports or just enjoys entertaining an audience is something else I will be looking forward to this summer. I don't care if any of my kids are sport minded. I certainly don't care if not a one of them becomes a sports phenomenon. All I want them to do is feel comfortable trying new things and if they like it great, if they don't well at least they tried. We can't be certain if Nora is a lefty or a righty. We can't be certain if she knows that the team will not have her name in the title. We can't be certain if she knows she has to run to home plate. We can't be certain if she understands that the people in the crowd aren't all there just for her... But in the next 6 weeks we'll learn and that's what this summer is all about.
The older my kids get, the older I get. Wow, that's profound enough to embroider on a pillow...what I'm saying is with every summer, my old lady nostalgia kicks in...Part of me remembers being 11 years old, riding my bike all over town and not really worrying about checking in until it was dinner time. Then, the old lady kicks in. The controlling parent. Suddenly on the inside, I'm "Beverly Goldberg" the mother who would give her life for her 'schmoopies', despite the fact that she might be smothering them. I know I need to trust the street smarts I have already instilled, but it's scary. It is scary to think what might happen, even though chances are they won't. That's the intricate inner workings of a mother's brain. I know I was given freedom to ride my bike, and I'm none-the-less normal. This summer, it's going to be a lesson in letting go a little and letting them be...The beauty of living in a small town? I'll know what they might have done wrong about 1.1 seconds after they do it. And besides, I've already survived the "puberty video", I figure I'm on the up swing.
It seems with every passing season, it becomes a time to start and try to change things up a little...the beginning of a new adventure. I have to keep reminding myself of how far we've come and only one visit to the ER. We set goals, hope to keep them, and if we don't kill each other by the end of the day, then we're winning. I remember how terrifying life once was for me...constantly thinking to myself, I'm never going to pull this off. I'm never going to be able to do this alone. Don't get me wrong, I don't have the secret to life figured out and my mother-guilt could be fodder for a medical book. But this week I did a lot of reflecting on all that has happened in the last couple of years. All those nights I frantically pondered when...when was any of this going to make sense? When was life going to get easy?
The answer is, never. Life isn't supposed to be easy...but if you are lucky, you can adapt and press on. It has taken me longer than I would like to admit to see it that way. If you are lucky you can see the good in any day, even if it is the moment your kids go to bed without a head wound. If you are lucky, you'll understand that you were put here for a reason or possibly many reasons. Lastly, you let go and let everyday be an example of how tomorrow could be better...If that doesn't work, and you're anything like the 3 year old living in my house, you stand in the window and poop...
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