Saturday Snapshot -- Mother's Day

For more than half my life now, I've lived far away from my mother. When I was 24 I went off to grad school in Washington, D.C. then moved to Florida, Michigan and back to Ohio with my parents long since moved to Florida.
I try to go down there at least once a year and they come to Ohio a few times each year, but it isn't the same as living close.
Here's a picture of Mom and Dad at a recent Kentucky Derby party. You can see that they are definitely enjoying themselves.

Here's a picture of me with my parents at my wedding. Mom was just about the same age I am now. 

And, finally, the piece de resistance, a family photo from 1968. You can see that Mom had her hair teased high and she let me sister get her hair teased too. Tammy was 9. I even got a little lift to my hair. I was five. 

I'm sure there were plenty of Mother's Days when I wasn't thankful enough, when we kids tried to plan a special mother's day and instead it left a big mess for Mom to clean up. 

I'm really grateful for my mother. 

And I get to see her next week!

Spring Break

My spring break from one job is coming to an end, but Grace's spring break begins today.
I picked her up at 8:30 a.m., after a run with my friend Noreen, and we drove through Starbucks for coffee. Then I baked the kouign amann that I had set out last night to rise. We settled on the couch to drink coffee, eat kouign amann and watch House Hunters International in France and Switzerland. We  yelled at the Americans who complained about not having American-sized refrigerators.
I love having Grace home.

I've stocked up on supplies of chocolate and wine, plus asparagus and goat cheese. I hope to really enjoy the week with her.
May all of you experience something as delightful as a daughter returning home for the week.

False Flattery

My darling daughter texted me excitedly earlier in the week from her stage makeup class.
"We have to age ourselves so I used a picture of you as an example."
People say Grace and I look alike, except she's 6 inches taller than I am and has straight hair.
It makes sense that if she wanted to age herself, she would look at a picture of me.
She downloaded my picture from Facebook to use as a guide then she set out to make herself look old.
"Everyone who saw your picture said you were so pretty," Grace said.
Which was nice.
But when she texted the photo of herself looking older, I didn't feel flattered any more.
Yikes.
Is that what I look like?
I hope Grace ages better than me, or at least better than the makeup she used to age herself.
She sent another picture during her makeup test that doesn't look quite as frightening.
Here's the picture with her looking "middle aged" on one side of her face and in "old age" on the other side of her face.

Who would make themselves look intentionally old anyway?

Melodrama

Grace has such a hard time with change. After packing and hugs and a thousand goodbyes this morning, she climbed into the car and said:

"Have a nice life without me." 

 

 That was so melodramatic, we both had to laugh then.

I'll miss her, but once she has transitioned, she'll forget all about her old mom. 

Daughter Departure

My life is about to get very quiet.
This weekend, Grace is still home. Tucker, a junior in high school, will stick around for a couple more years, but Grace leaves for college on Monday.

Mom and Dad have driven up from Florida and will spend the weekend here to see Grace before she heads off to New York.

We'll all jostle each other in this small house, enjoying the camaraderie and the constant sports on television that comes with a visit from my dad.
Then Earl's family, including preschooler Caroline and baby Regan, will visit on Sunday evening. Lots of family and visits this weekend.
On Monday morning, Earl and Grace will pull out of the driveway with her bicycle attached to the back of the car. And I will be alone.
Grace and I talk about our relationship. We love spending time together -- walking to get coffee, riding bikes, doing P90X, sitting on the couch and watching Toddlers and Tiaras. We talk about our problems and our triumphs. So I'll miss her a lot.

Here's where Grace will sleep in the sorority house.

But we also talked about the fact that we might start to get on each other's nerves if we didn't have this separation of months in school, if we instead spent all of our time together.
Grace and I are lucky that we've transitioned from the mother-child relationship to a grown up relationship. Sometimes I'm still too bossy, like a mother is, and sometimes she's petulant,
My quiet won't last forever though. Everyone will be home again at Thanksgiving, and there's always next summer when my house will be filled with kids, or grownups, again.

Daughter Love

I'm so lucky to have a fabulous daughter and to have her home for the summer. Now, before you turn away in disgust at the sugary sweetness of that statement, let me say that, of course, there are times we don't get along, but I can count on her to be there when I need her.
That's why I dragged her along to two grad parties last night since Earl was at work.
At the party, we ran into one of her friends who doesn't get along with her mother. The mother was there too. In spite of feeling a little awkward, we split up so I could talk with the mom and she could chat with her friend.
I realized my reliance on Grace when I poured a glass of wine and it seeped out a hole in the cup.
It took me a minute to realize that the cup was leaking. Red wine was on the tablecloth and on the paving stones beneath the table, when I looked down and saw a spout of red wine arcing from near the bottom of the cup. I put my finger over the hole and the wine stopped escaping.
"Oh no," I cried. "My cup has a hole in it."
I problem solved for a minute. I could simply put another cup over it or pour the quickly disappearing wine into another cup. But first, I had to show Grace.
"Grace!" I called across the patio, interrupting her conversation with the graduate's dad, "My cup has a hole in it!" and I took my finger away to show her the red arc of wine pouring from my cup. We both laughed and I found another cup.
Everything funny and meaningful in my life, I want to share with Grace.
I hope our relationship stays this way.

The Art of Letter Writing

I know that letter writing is passe. I'm guilty of hopping on the computer and shooting off an email or sending a lengthy text rather than sitting down with thick stationary and writing in my barely readable, left-handed penmanship. But the importance of letter writing returned to me this week with a letter from Grace at college. It was on notebook paper with a pencil drawing of two kitties at the top, drawn by Grace. The words on the paper were the important part though.
Grace mailed a letter because her aunt sent her a birthday check (back in January) and Grace needed to mail it to me so I could deposit it in her bank account. She said she didn't want to simply mail the check "and be all taking you for granted" so she wrote a letter.
"First off, I wanted to thank you for being so awesome," she wrote. Well, she could have stopped there, but she continued to name some times when she thought I was "awesome."
"Even though we talk pretty much every day, I still miss our walks and talks and mochas. I miss you and watching The Amazing Race together."
Me too. I cherish the times when Grace is home. And, although Grace and I talk about this, having it here in front of me means a lot.
After some reminiscing, Grace writes, "I think when I come home, you'll find me different, but in a good way."
Grace was pretty amazing when she left for school, but perhaps the way she has changed is in recognizing how amazing she is.
She ends her letter with "We're so lucky we have each other. You're my mom and best friend. Good combo? I think so."
Yes, this is a letter that I'll tuck into my letter box, along with the ones from my mom when I lived in France and the ones from my brother when I went away to college. Those letters helped cement our adult relationships. I can look back at them now and remember the hard times and the good times we shared. I can see how those letters built the relationships we have today.
I could not have imagined when I cradled that beautiful, bossy little girl in my arms that she'd grow up to be my best friend and a wonderful letter writer

Happy BIrthday

Twenty years ago, I lived in a warm climate and a spotless house. I was a size six with 18 pounds of basketball belly when I got up early in the morning, about this time, and drove to the hospital an hour away. Four hours later, Grace was born. Eight pounds, eight ounces.
And, obviously, my life has never been the same -- in a good way. Yes, we've had our mother daughter run-ins and temper tantrums (both of us). But when I went to the hospital, I could never have dreamed that I'd be giving birth to one of my best friends.
Sometimes I think that she relies on me too much, but then I realize that I rely on her too. She's always happy to talk about my day and offer advice on how raise her brothers. We laugh together a lot, and I don't think there's much more I could ask for from her. Someone who loves me, who makes me laugh and who I have watched become a beautiful, confident young woman. And that's only the first 20 years.
Happy Birthday, Grace