We took her dress shopping today. Her dad and I walked into the store and pulled dresses off the rack. I carried an arm load in the dressing room and she skipped in behind me. She was so excited I thought she may burst. I put on the first one. A black and white one with a pink ribbon tied around the middle. "It is puffy," she said as she twirled in the mirror. I opened the door and she danced out to daddy to see how beautiful he thought it was. Strangers oohed and awed for her. Told her how beautiful she looked. She smiled shyly and then twirled back to me. We went for dress number two. Each time spinning in the mirror. Each time loving how mommy, daddy, and the sweet older lady cheered and clapped for her. She finally picked her dress. Her graduation dress. Kindergarten graduation.
Then we went for shoes. A princess must have special shoes on her special day. They are rainbow. They sparkle. Not as much as her. Not nearly as bright as she does. And for the icing on the cake, she decided that today was the big day. The day she would get her ears pierced. She sat so bravely in the seat. My heart beat a little faster as I held her hand. Daddy held the other. One earring in and she cried. The lady asked if she was ready for the other and she nodded. Holding our hands a little tighter. After earring two was in daddy scooped her up. Just like when she was a baby getting shots. Wasn't that just yesterday?
Putting her to bed tonight, she chatted about how she was going to tell her teacher and friends about her new earrings, dress, and shoes.
Then I got on face*book and began looking at beautiful girls in puffy dresses. Handsome young men in tailored suits. Children of friends of mine. I clicked "like" on these gorgeous children. I think back to years past when these young adults were elementary kids and middle schoolers. Then I clicked on a friends page and looked through the prom pictures of her beautiful daughter. Then I saw it. One of the pictures was of her and her daughter from years past. It was her daughter's kindergarten graduation picture. I looked long and hard at the little girl in the picture. Cap on and smiling so bright. And the mama hugging her tight. And then I cried. Then I thanked God for my beautiful kids and this blessed season. And prayed for the day that we are twirling in prom gowns. Hopefully I (or her daddy) won't cry to much...or at least in front of her as we snap pictures and tell her to have a wonderful time. It helped me remember to squeeze a little tighter and breath a little easier. And to enjoy my puffy 6 year old princess.
Showing posts with label Rachel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rachel. Show all posts
Saturday, May 5, 2012
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Thinking about Hot Chocolate
Rachel from time to time has bad dreams. I can always hear her coming. She wakes up screaming and running from her room into mine and jumps into my bed. Last night was one of those nights. Scott had already left for work at 4:00 a.m. WIll had also found his way into my bed. I moved over and wrapped my arms around her.
Rachel- "Mommy I was so scared."
Me- "I know."
Rachel- "Can you tell me about the happy things."
Rachel and I play this game when she has nightmares. At first, I wasn't really sure how to help her. Then I asked her to think about the happy things. I would list them for her. I would talk about fun things like playing barbies or dress-up. She sometimes smiles with her eyes closed. Soon she drifts back off to sleep. With the happy images, not her scary nightmare.
Last night I told her about building snowmen with carrot noses and coal for eyes and mouth. Having a snowball fight with her brothers and hiding behind the swing set. I told her about hot chocolate with extra marshmallows. Then she drifted back to sleep.
This made me think of a quote that I received through Joyce Meyer Ministries through Facebook the other day. "
Rachel- "Mommy I was so scared."
Me- "I know."
Rachel- "Can you tell me about the happy things."
Rachel and I play this game when she has nightmares. At first, I wasn't really sure how to help her. Then I asked her to think about the happy things. I would list them for her. I would talk about fun things like playing barbies or dress-up. She sometimes smiles with her eyes closed. Soon she drifts back off to sleep. With the happy images, not her scary nightmare.
Last night I told her about building snowmen with carrot noses and coal for eyes and mouth. Having a snowball fight with her brothers and hiding behind the swing set. I told her about hot chocolate with extra marshmallows. Then she drifted back to sleep.
This made me think of a quote that I received through Joyce Meyer Ministries through Facebook the other day. "
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Bitter Sweet
Breathe in and out. One step in front of the other. After all, this wasn't my first time on the merry go round. I lay in bed for hours. Trying to sleep. Drifting off and on. I swear I am more nervous for this than they are. I hear my alarm go off. How can it be time for this already. And I am not talking about breakfast. How can it be time to put my princess on a bus? How did I miss it?
First days are so very bitter sweet. What an exciting time. It is so sweet to see your children develop into their own person. For you to look at this little person and see the uniqueness and the passion for life. It is so bitter though that they start to step away from you as they find this world.
It is so sweet to hear wonderful praises about your child. To hear how kind and compassionate they are to others. How they are making the world better just by bringing joy into it with their presence. But so bitter that you weren't there to see or hear it.
It is so sweet to watch them take their first steps into the world. To stand at the sidelines and cheer for them. To shout for joy with their accomplishments and wrap your arms around them in their disappointments. But so bitter to stand at a distance sometimes as you watch those steps. Bitter to know that disappointments will come sooner or later.
It is so sweet to learn to let go and trust. Trust that my children are in the hands of Another. That He will hold them in the palm of His hand. It is so sweet to trust that my children will carry my love for them in their hearts all the days of their lives. It is bitter though to know that I can't always control everything.
One the first day of school, I watch them. He is in second grade. Eating his waffles with his hair sticking up in the back even though I have tried to tame it. She is eating her English muffin with butter and cinnamon. Kicking her shiny black shoes and occasionally smoothing down her skirt. She is singing a song and he hums his own little tune. Oblivious to the life changing thoughts running through Mommy's head. I look at my sweet little babies growing up one moment at a time.
"Time to go," I say trying to chock back some tears. They put on their giant book bags. Smiling and ready to tackle the world....or at least the elementary school. Pictures and pictures. Then we get into the van. I walk them into the school. I notice Will is holding his book bag straps and not my hand as we walk in. That is ok....I guess. We stop in front of Rachel's class and I kiss her good-bye. As I let go of her hand but she takes my heart. I blink back tears and smile and wave. I pray that the kids will love her as much as we do and her teacher will think she hung the moon like I do.
I walk my boy to second grade. He reaches for my hand. Nervous. I squeeze his hand and tell him to watch where we are going so he can find his room. "Why?" he asks. "Because I didn't think I would walk you down here everyday." "Why not?" he asked. "I guess I could if you want," I told him. He looks up at me, something I treasure while I still can, and he smiles and says "I want." We arrive at his bright yellow classroom. I see familiar faces of his friends. I see little desks all lined up in a row. I know one of the desks is his. I hug him tight. Hold on for a second longer. He walks into his classroom, throws up his hands, and says "hello everybody." I chuckle as I walk away. As I walk through the halls, I pray for them. First for my children. I pray that for their health and safely. I pray that a passion for education will be instilled in their hearts. I pray that they let their light shine for everyone to see. That someday they could perhaps share their faith and love those who need it.
I walked into the school with two and now I climb into the van as one. I sit and buckle the seat belt. Suddenly everything gets so fuzzy. The tear slid down my cheek and onto my lap. My throat tightens and I gasp. Finally I let myself have my first day cry. I cry because first days are so bitter sweet. Bitter because I now sit here alone. But so sweet knowing how blessed I am to have these amazing kids in my life. Sweet to know how these children will touch the world. So very sweet to know that they will come home and still crawl up on my lap and tell me about their new friends, what they played, and what they learned. So bitter sweet.
First days are so very bitter sweet. What an exciting time. It is so sweet to see your children develop into their own person. For you to look at this little person and see the uniqueness and the passion for life. It is so bitter though that they start to step away from you as they find this world.
It is so sweet to hear wonderful praises about your child. To hear how kind and compassionate they are to others. How they are making the world better just by bringing joy into it with their presence. But so bitter that you weren't there to see or hear it.
It is so sweet to watch them take their first steps into the world. To stand at the sidelines and cheer for them. To shout for joy with their accomplishments and wrap your arms around them in their disappointments. But so bitter to stand at a distance sometimes as you watch those steps. Bitter to know that disappointments will come sooner or later.
It is so sweet to learn to let go and trust. Trust that my children are in the hands of Another. That He will hold them in the palm of His hand. It is so sweet to trust that my children will carry my love for them in their hearts all the days of their lives. It is bitter though to know that I can't always control everything.
One the first day of school, I watch them. He is in second grade. Eating his waffles with his hair sticking up in the back even though I have tried to tame it. She is eating her English muffin with butter and cinnamon. Kicking her shiny black shoes and occasionally smoothing down her skirt. She is singing a song and he hums his own little tune. Oblivious to the life changing thoughts running through Mommy's head. I look at my sweet little babies growing up one moment at a time.
"Time to go," I say trying to chock back some tears. They put on their giant book bags. Smiling and ready to tackle the world....or at least the elementary school. Pictures and pictures. Then we get into the van. I walk them into the school. I notice Will is holding his book bag straps and not my hand as we walk in. That is ok....I guess. We stop in front of Rachel's class and I kiss her good-bye. As I let go of her hand but she takes my heart. I blink back tears and smile and wave. I pray that the kids will love her as much as we do and her teacher will think she hung the moon like I do.
I walk my boy to second grade. He reaches for my hand. Nervous. I squeeze his hand and tell him to watch where we are going so he can find his room. "Why?" he asks. "Because I didn't think I would walk you down here everyday." "Why not?" he asked. "I guess I could if you want," I told him. He looks up at me, something I treasure while I still can, and he smiles and says "I want." We arrive at his bright yellow classroom. I see familiar faces of his friends. I see little desks all lined up in a row. I know one of the desks is his. I hug him tight. Hold on for a second longer. He walks into his classroom, throws up his hands, and says "hello everybody." I chuckle as I walk away. As I walk through the halls, I pray for them. First for my children. I pray that for their health and safely. I pray that a passion for education will be instilled in their hearts. I pray that they let their light shine for everyone to see. That someday they could perhaps share their faith and love those who need it.
I walked into the school with two and now I climb into the van as one. I sit and buckle the seat belt. Suddenly everything gets so fuzzy. The tear slid down my cheek and onto my lap. My throat tightens and I gasp. Finally I let myself have my first day cry. I cry because first days are so bitter sweet. Bitter because I now sit here alone. But so sweet knowing how blessed I am to have these amazing kids in my life. Sweet to know how these children will touch the world. So very sweet to know that they will come home and still crawl up on my lap and tell me about their new friends, what they played, and what they learned. So bitter sweet.
Saturday, August 28, 2010
thingies
I was so excited! I had found the hair thingies. (real word-I think I have been reading too much fifth grade fiction? Frindle) I bought the cutest hair thingies for Rachel's new school year at daycare. They were cute little clips where one was a butterfly and one was a ladybug! The NICE rubber bands that her very thin and fine hair need. Little bows. All in one great package for one low price at wal*mart.- Sure wal*mart I will take some cash for that great plug in.
BUT we had lost them. By we, I mean my daughter and her much taller friend found them on TOP of the bathroom shelf and opened them. And spread them all over. After I found them, nicely*cough cough* sent them outside, and I put them in a plastic bag. Then I lost the bag. Oops.
But last night I found them. I was so happy I called Rachel in. She was not that impressed. I yelled at Scott to check it out. Again, he didn't see the reason to be jumping. Fine. I was pretty happy.
This morning. I wake up and come downstairs to take a shower. Brushing teeth and then I see something colorful in the toilet. You love how I check my toilet in the morning, huh? The baggie of hair thingies. Swirling in water..around and around. I sigh. And I am going to wal*mart with my three dollars to get a new set!
BUT we had lost them. By we, I mean my daughter and her much taller friend found them on TOP of the bathroom shelf and opened them. And spread them all over. After I found them, nicely*cough cough* sent them outside, and I put them in a plastic bag. Then I lost the bag. Oops.
But last night I found them. I was so happy I called Rachel in. She was not that impressed. I yelled at Scott to check it out. Again, he didn't see the reason to be jumping. Fine. I was pretty happy.
This morning. I wake up and come downstairs to take a shower. Brushing teeth and then I see something colorful in the toilet. You love how I check my toilet in the morning, huh? The baggie of hair thingies. Swirling in water..around and around. I sigh. And I am going to wal*mart with my three dollars to get a new set!
Friday, June 11, 2010
Reality...
After that sweet little tribute yesterday, I really proved my point...in real life.
I am not a people person. I like people and all but I am...awkward socially. I don't "make friends easily." I think I am a good friend once I have met you and we talked and I feel comfortable around you. But thinking about walking into a room full of strangers about makes me pass out. One of the problems I have with dance. Lots of beautiful women that seem to all know what is going on. And I stand there with baby puke on my shoulder and paint (white house paint not THAT paint) grinded into my cuticles.
And this recital thing drives my stress through the roof. For example, yesterday I washed my hair. This is not a big deal for most people. Except did you read my last blog post? With my new hair cut, I have to wash, apply "sleek" junk, blow dry, and then straighten (sometimes apply more "sleek" stuff). With my towel on my head and checking my e mail- I remembered. I was given a paper balloon to decorate at the last rehearsal. Actually the conversation went something like this.
Beautiful woman I don't know- "What is your daughters name?"
Me- "Rachel"
BW- "I meant last name"
Me- "Oh sorry, Demi"
BW- hand me pink paper ballon with Rachel written on it "Just get it back to me next time." walking away....
Me- "um excuse me, what do I do with it?"
BW- "decorate it" walking away
Me- "how?"
BW- "with her picture, with anything. However you want it to look." walks away
Did I mention I am craft challenged too? Back to the towel. So with towel on head it hits me that I am to have this balloon done TONIGHT. Commence flip out mode. Get on Internet and send a picture to one hour walmart. Get all 4 kids dressed and ready and in the van to go to walmart. Thankfully mom and sister offer to come along. Go to walmart and pick up picture. Go to craft section for "dance" stickers. Find out walmart is getting rid of scrapbooking section. Have Rachel pick out some girl stickers. Even on clearance these stickers were crazy priced.
Go home and Rachel decorates balloon. I will have to take a picture of it and post it. Too cute. Good thing I have her. ;) So now my hair has dried and looks horrible. I clip it up (although not all of it cooperates). Add to stress. I grab all of Rachel's stuff and we take off. After dropping kids off at mom's I realize that I forgot the BALLOON at home. Now, we go home to find ballon ( and camera).
We are late. I go running in. They are getting people in the auditorium and I am trying to fix Rachel's hair. Hair tie broke. Later in the day, dance director reminds parents to "bobby pin" hair pieces in. bobby pins??? have to buy some of those. What section are they in?? So we run in the auditorium and I realize I did not scrub off her two tattoos on her arm. Big black ugly monster truck tattoos. I try to get them off with...tada...spit. Didn't work. We snuck out to the bathroom. It didn't work. I promised her I would get them off for the performance.
The night continued with me finding out tons of other stuff I didn't know. Like were were running the act TWICE. Rachel was bored out of her mind and rolling on the dirty floor.
When I finally hit the pillow last night, I thought, soccer would be so much easier.....
Tonight is the real deal....pray for me...for her....OY!
I am not a people person. I like people and all but I am...awkward socially. I don't "make friends easily." I think I am a good friend once I have met you and we talked and I feel comfortable around you. But thinking about walking into a room full of strangers about makes me pass out. One of the problems I have with dance. Lots of beautiful women that seem to all know what is going on. And I stand there with baby puke on my shoulder and paint (white house paint not THAT paint) grinded into my cuticles.
And this recital thing drives my stress through the roof. For example, yesterday I washed my hair. This is not a big deal for most people. Except did you read my last blog post? With my new hair cut, I have to wash, apply "sleek" junk, blow dry, and then straighten (sometimes apply more "sleek" stuff). With my towel on my head and checking my e mail- I remembered. I was given a paper balloon to decorate at the last rehearsal. Actually the conversation went something like this.
Beautiful woman I don't know- "What is your daughters name?"
Me- "Rachel"
BW- "I meant last name"
Me- "Oh sorry, Demi"
BW- hand me pink paper ballon with Rachel written on it "Just get it back to me next time." walking away....
Me- "um excuse me, what do I do with it?"
BW- "decorate it" walking away
Me- "how?"
BW- "with her picture, with anything. However you want it to look." walks away
Did I mention I am craft challenged too? Back to the towel. So with towel on head it hits me that I am to have this balloon done TONIGHT. Commence flip out mode. Get on Internet and send a picture to one hour walmart. Get all 4 kids dressed and ready and in the van to go to walmart. Thankfully mom and sister offer to come along. Go to walmart and pick up picture. Go to craft section for "dance" stickers. Find out walmart is getting rid of scrapbooking section. Have Rachel pick out some girl stickers. Even on clearance these stickers were crazy priced.
Go home and Rachel decorates balloon. I will have to take a picture of it and post it. Too cute. Good thing I have her. ;) So now my hair has dried and looks horrible. I clip it up (although not all of it cooperates). Add to stress. I grab all of Rachel's stuff and we take off. After dropping kids off at mom's I realize that I forgot the BALLOON at home. Now, we go home to find ballon ( and camera).
We are late. I go running in. They are getting people in the auditorium and I am trying to fix Rachel's hair. Hair tie broke. Later in the day, dance director reminds parents to "bobby pin" hair pieces in. bobby pins??? have to buy some of those. What section are they in?? So we run in the auditorium and I realize I did not scrub off her two tattoos on her arm. Big black ugly monster truck tattoos. I try to get them off with...tada...spit. Didn't work. We snuck out to the bathroom. It didn't work. I promised her I would get them off for the performance.
The night continued with me finding out tons of other stuff I didn't know. Like were were running the act TWICE. Rachel was bored out of her mind and rolling on the dirty floor.
When I finally hit the pillow last night, I thought, soccer would be so much easier.....
Tonight is the real deal....pray for me...for her....OY!
Thursday, June 10, 2010
My Girl
I always knew I was going to have all boys. Could be because I was never a "girl" myself. I never teased my hair or tight rolled my jeans (Hey it was the 80's!). The one time I tried to dye my hair it went orange and I hid it under my baseball cap all summer. I was the girl who hung with the boys and felt more at home in a baseball diamond than the mall. I clipped my nails short as to get out the dirt. I knew I was never going to be the beauty queen and that was ok with me.
So when the ultrasound person told me that William was a boy, I was not shocked to say the least. And when I was pregnant with #2 I laughed when Scott said this one was a girl. I told him "I can't have a girl." Which medically speaking is crazy but to me it made sense. I would be a better mom to a boy. What did I know about bows and clips? When ultrasound person said "we have a little girl." I sat up and said "What? Are you sure? How sure?" She laughed and said about 99 percent. But things can hide." I left stunned but to be honest I was still thinking the baby was a boy. She could be wrong. When my church had a "pink" baby shower for me, I thought what am I going to do with all this when he is a boy. I actually looked at something purple and thought,"maybe he could wear that."
On December 14, 2005 the nurse handed me a perfectly pink little girl. And I just stared. Then I cried. And I said "Scott. She is a girl." What a girl she is. She is one of the reasons I know that God has a sense of humor. Because not only did he bless me with a girl, but he dropped the girliest of all girls in my lap. She believes her middle name is princess. Before she was 2 she painted her fingernails with markers. Right after she turned two, she got into a huge argument with me over which coat she would wear. She has told me "mom, that doesn't match." When we put on her lipstick for her dance recital I just hand her the tube. She took my mascara and applied it when she was 2 and didn't get a spot on her face.
On her first birthday, I took her to get her pictures taken. When my mom was looking at the pictures she said "Theresa, why didn't you put her in a dress?" I looked and said "it never even occurred to me." I did have a pink shirt on her!
This weekend is my baby girl's first dance recital. I say first because I am sure it will not be her last. I look at her in all her pink and lace. Her curls and her bright red lipstick and think about how she has blessed my life. My little girl who offers hugs and kisses with the occasional fashion advice. Sometimes in life God surprises you with just the thing you need. Something perfect.
This picture was taken this past mother's day. She picked out her own hair things and the necklace. She was not happy that I wasn't wearing pink. I tried to expain that black is slimming but she wouldn't buy it.....
So when the ultrasound person told me that William was a boy, I was not shocked to say the least. And when I was pregnant with #2 I laughed when Scott said this one was a girl. I told him "I can't have a girl." Which medically speaking is crazy but to me it made sense. I would be a better mom to a boy. What did I know about bows and clips? When ultrasound person said "we have a little girl." I sat up and said "What? Are you sure? How sure?" She laughed and said about 99 percent. But things can hide." I left stunned but to be honest I was still thinking the baby was a boy. She could be wrong. When my church had a "pink" baby shower for me, I thought what am I going to do with all this when he is a boy. I actually looked at something purple and thought,"maybe he could wear that."
On December 14, 2005 the nurse handed me a perfectly pink little girl. And I just stared. Then I cried. And I said "Scott. She is a girl." What a girl she is. She is one of the reasons I know that God has a sense of humor. Because not only did he bless me with a girl, but he dropped the girliest of all girls in my lap. She believes her middle name is princess. Before she was 2 she painted her fingernails with markers. Right after she turned two, she got into a huge argument with me over which coat she would wear. She has told me "mom, that doesn't match." When we put on her lipstick for her dance recital I just hand her the tube. She took my mascara and applied it when she was 2 and didn't get a spot on her face.
On her first birthday, I took her to get her pictures taken. When my mom was looking at the pictures she said "Theresa, why didn't you put her in a dress?" I looked and said "it never even occurred to me." I did have a pink shirt on her!
This weekend is my baby girl's first dance recital. I say first because I am sure it will not be her last. I look at her in all her pink and lace. Her curls and her bright red lipstick and think about how she has blessed my life. My little girl who offers hugs and kisses with the occasional fashion advice. Sometimes in life God surprises you with just the thing you need. Something perfect.
This picture was taken this past mother's day. She picked out her own hair things and the necklace. She was not happy that I wasn't wearing pink. I tried to expain that black is slimming but she wouldn't buy it.....
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