Mother's Day Ode to My Amazing Mom

I have been trying to compose a Mother's Day post in my head, and it's been tough. My childhood was by no means unhappy, but it wasn't exactly picturesque either. Just admitting it wasn't perfect is enough to make me uncomfortable. When I think of the reasons, admitting them scares me to death, even though they're not mine to fear. Not any more. I grew up with an alcoholic father, who is now estranged. People who grew up in a situation like mine know the complete chaos and turmoil it causes in a family. They also know the shame and the amazing lengths a family dealing with addiction will go to in order to cover it up and appear normal.

As I get older and try to remember exactly how it was, I get a lot of conflicted feelings. There are memories I would like to leave in the past, but also feelings of great warmth, happiness, and pride. Those are purely due to my mom's magical way of keeping a fractured family together. Sometimes I wonder how and why she worked so hard to keep a sinking ship afloat, and sometimes it takes all my strength not to run to her house and hug her and thank her for keeping my childhood as idyllic as possible.

You see, addiction brings nothing but uncertainty. That's what it was like living with my dad. You could never be certain of anything. He was loving and funny one day and the next he was angry and belligerent. But we could always rely on mom. She was always a pillar of strength. A security blanket when nothing else seemed safe. One memory that always sticks in my head is sitting at home after school, watching TV when I was younger, working on homework when I was older, and hearing the garage door open at precisely 5:30pm, and that little jump in my heart knowing my mom was home. I remember dropping whatever I was doing and excitedly listening as her high heels clipped across the kitchen floor. She was home, and all was right in the world. I remember following her to her room and lying on her bed as she changed out of her stylish work clothes, slowly removing each piece of jewelry and putting it in its proper place, and then threw on her comfortable after-work clothes. There were other happy memories scattered throughout, but that solid, predictable, reliable memory, no matter how mundane it may seem or how often it was repeated is the one that means the most to me and to me symbolizes my childhood and my mom's role in it.

Now that I have three daughters of my own, I still don't think I will ever understand how she did what she did. It's hard enough raising three kids with a husband who isn't an alcoholic and is in fact quite capable and an amazing dad. However, I still see some of my mom in what I do with my girls. One thing my mom always did well was make the ordinary seem enjoyable. We didn't go on big vacations (the first time I flew on an airplane was when I was 17 and that was with my best friend's family), and we didn't have a lot of extra money for her to shower us with impressive gifts -- although she did make sure we always had a nice mixture of what we wanted and what we needed, and she very likely spent more money on us than was really prudent. But I remember just loving being around my mom (and I still do). I remember walks to get custard, trips to the mall, and just baking cookies always seemed more fun for us than for other people. I can't even really pinpoint why. I remember feeling so fortunate that she was my mom. I try to make sure my girls experience those same daily joys as well.

Now I still feel fortunate that she was my mom because I don't know another woman who would have had the strength to do it. I feel fortunate to have her in my life because I still get a little tinge of excitement when she comes to my house. Even more than that though, I feel so fortunate that my girls get to have her for a grandma. I may feel a small tinge of excitement when she comes over, but they are in full-out Grandma-mania mode with the screams of excitement and "IT'S GRANDMA DEB!!! She's HERE!!!!" You would think Justin Bieber just walked into a room of 12 year-olds. I see her shower them with love and small gifts and show them that they deserve everything the world gives to them and she makes each moment with them special. I feel like she maybe gets to love them -- three little girls -- in a way that has fewer barriers than the first time around with her own three little girls.  No sinking ship. No uncertainty. No having to be Super Mom. The fact that I am able to give that gift to her means so much to me but I know it will never pay her back for all that she has given me. She has been the single most important influence in making me the woman I am today and that is a gift I can never repay.

What We've Been Up To...

Lemonade Stand!

Lydia begged me to let them have a lemonade stand. I was hesitant because we live on a busy road. I finally agreed, and warned her, "Just so you know, it's possible nobody will stop." They were able to scam some money from our extended family we had over for dinner, but really wanted somebody they didn't know to stop. Thankfully, a former coworker whom I hadn't seen in years drove by and saw the girls and stopped. She bought two cups and paid them extra, so we were set!

Tattoos!

Grandma Deb watched the girls while we went to a Brewers game. We came home to them covered in temporary tattoos. Temporary tattoos that don't come off even if you scrub their entire bodies with rubbing alcohol. Did I mention they had a doctor appointment too? I think they keep a separate file in a special place for our family. (Yeah, sorry, Audrey was naked. I had her cover her lady parts).

Butterflies!

We went to Family Night at the Zoo with some friends. Lydia really, really wanted a butterfly to land on her. She finally got one.

Charlie really, really did not want any butterflies to land on her, but the butterflies didn't seem to care.

Ice Skating!

It was ridiculously hot this week, so we took the girls ice skating. It was their first time and there was this awesome lady there with her kids who has been a skater and a coach for a long time. She asked us if it was OK to help the girls out a bit and she showed us all kind of tricks to help them learn. She was so, so helpful. The girls had so much fun and made such great improvement that we decided to sign them up for skating lessons in hopes that they'll like it better than dancing. We've been looking for a way out of dancing (neither of us are big fans of it), and told them they can decide between skating and dancing. They have a six-week session that starts next week and we're hoping it goes well.

Look at the little ice skates!

Grandma Deb

"When is Grandma Deb going to be here?" This is what I had to hear all morning on Saturday. The girls LOVE when Grandma Deb comes to visit and when they know she's coming, they won't stop asking for her until she gets here. They spent a good part of Saturday morning looking out the window for her red convertible to pull in the driveway and anxiously awaited the gifts she would bring.

Jayson and I love Grandma Deb's visits too. It means we get a night out and we can sleep in the next morning when she takes them to get donuts. Grandma Deb comes about once a month. Whenever we need somebody to watch the girls, she jumps at the chance. In fact, she's gotten mad at me before when we didn't ask her first.

Strange things happen when Grandma Deb visits, though. When we come home late at night, we never know what we're going to find. Once we came home to every measuring spoon we own (two sets) in the sink, and another time, glitter all over the deck. Sometimes discoveries don't happen until the next morning, like when I woke up in the morning to change Lydia's diaper (when she was little), and it was on backwards. Or, recently when the girls told me that Grandma Deb let them have "one of those granola bars" for a snack before bed. Knowing that we didn't have granola bars, I asked them to show me, and they pointed me to the Clif Bars. At least they got their protein for the day.

This past Saturday, we got home earlier than expected, at around 9:00, which is still well past the girls' bedtime. Lucky Grandma Deb sleeps with the girls on the futon. They insist on it. When we got home, we could still hear them giggling and whispering before falling asleep, so we went in to give hugs and kisses to say goodnight. Lydia had green cat whiskers drawn on her face. I took her into the bathroom to wash them off, and she looked at her toothbrush and said, "I didn't brush my teeth."

Grandma Deb may not do things the way we would, but we know everything she does is out of love. We know that when our girls are with Grandma Deb, they are loved, they are safe, and they are happy. That's what matters to us. We are so thankful for her!

I've Got a Red Ticket!

I fixed our Wii yesterday, saving us the $85 we were ready to spend to send it in to Nintendo to have it repaired. It stopped working last week, which was a disappointment because the girls had just started playing it quite a bit. The top games have been:

1. A Disney princess game Lydia got for Christmas. Her favorite part is changing what her princess looks like, switching the eyes from blue to brown to purple(?), changing her dress, jewelry, hair color, etc. She then goes out into the actual part of the game where you’re supposed to do something, wave the Wii controller around and then complain that the magic isn’t working and asks me to do it for her.
2. Wii Sport Resort. Lydia really likes the biking part, especially making her biker go so fast that she turns blue and keels over. Both girls do well with a sword game where they cut things, which is a little worrisome.
3. Wii Just Dance Kids. This is hilarious to watch them play. Audrey hasn’t quite caught on to the fact that she has to hold the Wii remote when she plays, and after every song will yell, “I got none!” This game was supposed to be a Valentine’s Day gift, and I asked Jayson to get it a few weeks ago when it was on sale at Target. I came home from school to Lydia holding it up, saying, “Did you want to save this for something?”

So, this past week when the Wii stopped working, it was very sad. I decided to try a lens cleaning disk and liquid air before sending it in. The Wii would not read the lens cleaning disk, so I sprayed some liquid air in the slot, and put the lens cleaning disk in again. No luck. However, when the Wii spit it back out, there was a ticket on it! I would have thought my Wii was dispensing magical raffle tickets, if not for the fact that it was the same type of ticket Grandma Deb had brought the girls a couple weeks ago.

I believe that every time Grandma Deb visits, she plays a sick game of scouring the stores for the toy that has the most pieces, with bonus points for pieces small enough for Charlie to put in her mouth. Being that Charlie’s favorite items to put in her mouth are shoes and paper, Grandma Deb really hit the jackpot with the raffle tickets.

As soon as I pulled the ticket out, I called for Lydia to come into the room, and explained to her the reason the Wii was not working. I could see the wheels spinning in her head. Which sister would she blame? Would she throw in the added lie of, “I told her not to do it, but she did it anyway!”? Before she could speak, I raised a finger and said, “Do NOT lie to me.” She looked at the ground and admitted she had done it. We told her we were very angry she did it, but proud of her for telling the truth. She said, “I just didn’t know that you couldn’t put tickets in it.” I paused for a moment, wondering if it’s possible that in a 4 year-old’s mind it might actually be unclear that raffle tickets do not belong in electronic devices. Nah. She knew.