25 Rules: Dedicated in Loving Memory of Chris

This will be a long post. Not only is it a long post, but I also waited too long to write this one. An old high school friend shared '25 Rules for Mothers of Daughters' on his Facebook wall back on April 25th, 2013. Usually, when someone shares such a long read I just skip it altogether. This one, I actually decided to read because of who shared it and it moved me. I immediately copied and saved it because I knew that I wanted to use it in my blog. I planned on giving this old friend props in my post and a big thank you for sharing these wonderful words. Unfortunately, this friend passed away unexpectedly on May 19th, 2013. Shame on me for waiting so long. You just never know. Chris Bragelman, this one is for you. R.I.P.

Reading these rules, I was able to see where my strong points and weaknesses as a mother are, quite clearly. Most of these rules can apply to raising sons, too. I hope you enjoy them as much as I did and I will make my additions in italics so you may know my own words from the unknown author. So, here goes...

25 RULES FOR MOTHERS OF DAUGHTERS

1. Paint her nails. Then let her scratch it off and dirty them up. Teach her to care about her appearance, and then quickly remind her that living and having fun is most important.

I find myself shying away from messier crafts because I don't have the energy or the time to clean up all the extra messes in addition to the daily ones I clean already. Too often I may tell her not to get dirty because we have something or other else to do. I need to work on this. I need to create more time for plain old messy fun.

2. Let her put on your makeup, even if it means bright-red-smudged lips and streaked-blue eyes. Let her experiment in her attempts to be like you…then let her be herself.

On my To-Do list.

3. Let her be wild. She may want to stay home and read books on the couch, or she may want to hop on the back of a motorcycle-gasp. She may be a homebody or a traveler. She may fall in love with the wrong boy, or meet Mr. right at age 5. Try to remember that you were her age once. Everyone makes mistakes, let her make her own.

I feel like this is one of my stronger points as a mother. My two oldest children are teenagers now and I am doing my best to keep things in perspective and not stunt their social growth through my own insecurities. Time will tell if I get this one right. 

4. Be present. Be there for her at her Kindergarten performances, her dance recitals, her soccer games…her everyday-little-moments. When she looks through the crowds of people, she will be looking for your smile and pride. Show it to her as often as possible.

This one hits home pretty hard right now. I have missed so much of my two older sons' baseball games and such because of the three younger children. I do what I can but still feel like it is never enough. It hurts in my heart sometimes. I try to communicate openly and hope that they do not grow to resent their three younger siblings someday. I hope this gets better as the babies get older and are more conveniently mobile.

5. Encourage her to try on your shoes and play dress-up. If she would rather wear her brother’s superman cape with high heels, allow it. If she wants to wear a tutu or dinosaur costume to the grocery store, why stop her? She needs to decide who she is and be confident in her decision.

I got this! I have no problem with my children and what they choose to wear or be. I only get involved if it would be unsafe weather wise. Other than that, they can wear what they wish. Boys can wear pink. Girls can love dinosaur jammies.

6. Teach her to be independent. Show her by example that woman can be strong. Find and follow your own passions. Search for outlets of expression and enjoyment for yourself- not just your husband or children. Define yourself by your own attributes, not by what others expect you to be. Know who you are as a person, and help your daughter find out who she is.

The last eleven years of my life, I have been working on this exact thing. I hope my children see it and absorb it and know that I know myself, respect myself and try to better myself. I am learning to follow my dreams. I hope they do theirs.

7. Pick flowers with her. Put them in her hair. There is nothing more beautiful than a girl and a flower.

Did. Do. Done. Will continue to do so. I am a hippie, though.

8. Let her get messy. Get messy with her, no matter how much it makes you cringe inside. Splash in the puddles, throw snowballs, make mud pies, finger paint the walls: just let it happen. The most wonderful of memories are often the messy ones.

Cringe...within reason...sigh...

9. Give her good role models- you being one of them. Introduce her to successful woman- friends, co-workers, doctors, astronauts, or authors. Read to her about influential women- Eleanor Roosevelt, Rosa Parks, Marie Curie. Read her the words of inspirational women- Jane Austen, Sylvia Plath, Emily Dickinson. She should know that anything is possible.

I will try.

10. Show her affection. Daughters will mimic the compassion of their mother. “I love yous” and Eskimo kisses go a long way.

There is no lack of affection in our household. Hugs, kisses, I love yous. Sometimes I even wonder if I say it too much...or is there such a thing. I can't get enough of my children. Even though it is nice and peaceful to run to the grocery store alone...I still miss my kids, deep down, the whole time.

11. Hold her hand. Whether she is 3 years-old in the parking lot or sixteen years old in the mall, hold on to her always- this will teach her to be confident in herself and proud of her family.

I do. I will. She'll know.

12. Believe in her. It is the moments that she does not believe in herself that she will need you to believe enough for both of you. Whether it is a spelling test in the first grade, a big game or recital, a first date, or the first day of college…remind her of the independent and capable woman you have taught her to be.

Of course.

13. Tell her how beautiful she is. Whether it is her first day of Kindergarten, immediately after a soccer game where she is grass-stained and sweaty, or her wedding day. She needs your reminders. She needs your pride. She needs your reassurance. She is only human.

She is. As are all my children. Don't think anything could change this.

14. Love her father. Teach her to love a good man, like him. One who lets her be herself…she is after all wonderful.

I lucked out on this one. We have been together for eleven years and today happens to be our 5th wedding anniversary. I love you always and forever, Allen. Thanks for being so easy to love.

15. Make forts with boxes and blankets. Help her to find magic in the ordinary, to imagine, to create and to believe in fairy tales. Someday she will make her 5 by 5 dorm-room her home with magic touches and inspiration. And she will fall in love with a boy and believe him to be Prince Charming.

I do these things but could always improve and do them more often. There is nothing like a wonderful imagination!

16. Read to her. Read her Dr. Seuss and Eric Carle. But also remember the power of Sylvia Plath and Robert Frost. Show her the beauty of words on a page and let her see you enjoy them. Words can be simply written and simply spoken, yet can harvest so much meaning. Help her to find their meaning.

I read to my children all of the time but I could definitely work on what I read to them. It is just so easy to grab a simple book or two or three. Maybe I should reach for something more substantial.

17. Teach her how to love- with passion and kisses. Love her passionately. Love her father passionately and her siblings passionately. Express your love. Show her how to love with no restraint. Let her get her heart broken and try again. Let her cry, and gush, giggle and scream. She will love like you love or hate like you hate. So, choose love for both you and her.

Truer words there could not be.

18. Encourage her to dance and sing. Dance and sing with her- even if it sounds or looks horrible. Let her wiggle to nursery rhymes. Let her dance on her daddy's feet and spin in your arms. Then later, let her blast noise and headbang in her bedroom with her door shut if she wants. Or karaoke to Tom Petty in the living room if she would rather. Introduce her to the classics- like The Beatles- and listen to her latest favorite- like Taylor Swift. Share the magic of music together, it will bring you closer- or at least create a soundtrack to your life together.

Music comes easily in our home.

19. Share secrets together. Communicate. Talk. Talk about anything. Let her tell you about boys, friends, school. Listen. Ask questions. Share dreams, hopes, concerns. She is not only your daughter, you are not only her mother. Be her friend too.

I am as open with my children as humanly possible and age appropriately I can be. I remind them that I am here for them, often. I ask questions. I dig deeper than their one word answers. I care and they know it.

20. Teach her manners. Because sometimes you have to be her mother, not just her friend. The world is a happier place when made up of polite words and smiles.

I have been blessed with very well behaved and polite children. I know that people give me most of the credit, but my spouse, family, friends and even the children themselves deserve some, too. It is a group effort.

21. Teach her when to stand-up and when to walk away. Whether she has classmates who tease her because of her glasses, or a boyfriend who tells her she is too fat - let her know she does not have to listen. Make sure she knows how to demand respect - she is worthy of it. It does not mean she has to fight back with fists or words, because sometimes you say more with silence. Also make sure she knows which battles are worth fighting. Remind her that some people can be mean and nasty because of jealousy, or other personal reasons. Help her to understand when to shut her mouth and walk-away. Teach her to be the better person.

This is a constant effort as a parent. I have children ranging in age from fourteen years to nine months. These struggles come at every twist and turn and step of the way. Diligence. Persistence. Respect.

22. Let her choose who she loves. Even when you see through the charming boy she thinks he is, let her love him without your disapproving words; she will anyway. When he breaks her heart, be there for her with words of support rather than I told-you-so. Let her mess up again and again until she finds the one. And when she finds the one, tell her.

My mom did this for me, and I will pay it forward to my children. I would not have listened to disapproving words. I had to live and learn. I had to experience life. I had to grow and build character. Everyone should.

23. Mother her. Being a mother - to her - is undoubtedly one of your greatest accomplishments. Share with her the joys of motherhood, so one day she will want to be a mother too. Remind her over and over again with words and kisses that no one will ever love her like you love her. No one can replace or replicate a mother's love for their children.

If you get a chance to someday, ask my daughter how much I love her. She knows.

24. Comfort her. Because sometimes you just need your mommy. When she is sick, rub her back, make her soup and cover her in blankets - no matter how old she is. Someday, if she is giving birth to her own child, push her hair out of her face, encourage her, and tell her how beautiful she is. These are the moments she will remember you for. And someday when her husband rubs her back in attempt to comfort her...she may just whisper, "I need my mommy."

I do and I hope she always allows me to. That goes for all five of my precious children.

25. Be home. When she is sick with a cold or broken heart, she will come to you; welcome her. When she is engaged or pregnant, she will run to you to share her news; embrace her. When she is lost or confused, she will search for you; find her. When she needs advice on boys, schools, friends or an outfit; tell her. She is your daughter and will always need a safe harbor - where she can turn a key to see comforting eyes and a familiar smile; be home.

I am home.

Big Daddy...Tribute

In preparation for the one year anniversary of my blog coming up, I went back and perused my previous posts. In doing so, I have come across a situation I would like to remedy. My blog is (mostly) about me and my journey as a mother and the other many hats I may wear at times. It is also about why I am the way that I am; where I have come from and where I wish I could be. This is exactly what I wanted the blog to be about but there is one very important person from my life that has not been represented because he is not a mother. So, Daddy, this one's for you.

When you are a little girl, your father is one of the biggest pieces of your world. He is magical and awesome. He is the smartest person you know. When you are with him you feel safe and protected, loved and adored. The hugs he gives are unmatched by anyone else. No one can mess with you as long as you have your Daddy; he can make all of your pains go away with just one kiss. He is your first true love and you will spend the rest of your life comparing the men you meet to him. Those can be some pretty big shoes to fill.

Unconditional love. This my father has taught me. As a parent, this is an important quality. When I was a teenager I began to withdraw a bit from my father. I know this is pretty typical teenage girl stuff and I can't tell you when exactly this began to happen. We both made some mistakes with each other but there was never ever a doubt in my mind that he loved me anyway, and I him. At that age there is usually going to be a butting of heads, I know. The reasons are unimportant. The important part was the unconditional love that we have for each other and being able to meet again on the other side. He was there for me.

A true believer. My biggest fan. My father is a very talented guitar player. His passion for music and his abilities were, thankfully, passed on to my brothers and myself. He supported me in my efforts with music. He gave me my first (and second and third) guitar, drove me to lessons, came to every concert and show. He had part of our garage converted into a music room for us and equipped it with all we could need. I was the first girl in my high school to be in her own rock band and this could not have been possible without him. He was there for us every step of the way. He even went out and helped us get t-shirts made up. He was a cool Dad to have.

Daddy

My Dad is a trooper. He would do anything for me. I remember a time when I was in high school that he did me a favor I will never forget. It was shortly after he and my Mom had separated. I wanted my hair dyed and figured I would have to wait until I could get over to Mom's apartment. He offered to dye it for me. Now, I have a ton of hair and it can be quite a task, but he was totally willing. The best part about this story is that my Dad is not a small man and the gloves that come with the hair dye are definitely not made for hands like his. The gloves did not take their time to rip open but he just kept on going. My hair turned out beautiful and his poor hands were stained for a while. What a great Dad to do that for his only daughter. Another moment that I will never forget is from him at my wedding. He walked me down the isle, precious, and later played the guitar until his fingers bled. True devotion.

Devotion in Action

What is in a name? In my opinion, honor. All five of my children have a family name as one of their names, first or middle, and then their other name is one I just liked and found unique. One of my new twin babies received the middle name, James, in honor of my father. My father does not actually use this name for reasons which are his own and not my story to tell. I will say that his reasons are valid and I respect them. I asked his permission to use this name and am very glad he allowed me to. Now I have "E" James, and here is why...

My father is a good man. He is a wonderful father and has twelve, almost thirteen, adoring grandchildren. One of my brothers was named after my father, David. My brother passed this name onto his first born son as his middle name. So, in actuality, passing on "James" may not have been entirely necessary but it was still very important to me. Growing up I always felt like this name was almost a taboo. I feel my father deserves better than that. These grandchildren are part of his legacy and the future of this family. The future is ours to mold and I thought it time to turn this name into a positive. My son E will wear it with pride, as was the way I gave it to him.

My father is a big part of who I am even though he is not a "mother". He is one of the many influences I have had in my life. Without our relationship, I would not have turned out the same, and I kinda like how I turned out so far. Ha! We have had our ups and our downs but in the end I would not change a thing. These are all pieces of the puzzle that is me. I will parent my children using our past and our present as examples. I hope to offer my children the same level of devotion and unconditional love that my father bestowed upon me. I hope to support them through all of their endeavors and remain their biggest fan. Thanks for being there for me always, Daddy. I love you always and forever.

One Last Check...Priceless

Image from: http://www.tomcopelandblog.com/2011/10/should-you-have-a-business-checkbook.html

On Friday, September 21st, I wrote out the final check to my daughter's daycare provider. It was a typical Friday afternoon. As usual, I pulled into her driveway at around 5:00 P.M. on my way home from work. I sat in my car for an extra moment and wrote out the check for the following and final week of daycare service. (My daughter's last day actually ended up being Thursday the 27th, because I went into labor that night and gave birth to my twin sons on the Friday. That is a story for another date though.) While writing out the last check I actually started to tear up and I cried.

I was surprised at myself. I pulled myself together quickly but sat and thought about it for a moment. Why did I cry? Wasn't it a good thing that I didn't have to spend that much money each week anymore? Isn't it nice that I get to stay at home and take care of my children for myself from now on? Hadn't I come to terms with this new arrangement of my life months ago? The answer to these three questions...Yes. Absolutely. I cried because I love my daughter's daycare provider and knew a chapter was closing in our lives, possibly forever, and it made me sad.

My daughter had been going to this in-home daycare since she was seventeen weeks old. This was the only provider she had ever known and her whole experience was a wonderful one. When I found out I was pregnant with my daughter, I knew that this daycare was the only one I wanted her to go to and called to get on the list right away. I had known this woman since my twelve year old son was in kindergarten. He is best friends with her son of the same age. My two older sons went to her daycare after school for a couple of years before they became old enough to stay home alone. I trust her more than almost anybody else with my children and that is saying something. I know I can be difficult, controlling, particular and opinionated when it comes to my children. In the past, I have been compared to a tiger when it comes to the well-being of my "cubs", and I am quite okay with it. I never had to worry about them when they were with her. I am now, and will be, forever grateful.

But how do you thank someone enough for this service? How will I ever be able to let her know how much I appreciate her? Are there even words in existence that will mean enough? She looked after three of my children day after day. She fed them, loved them, played with them, taught them and nurtured them. She gave them a safe haven when they could not be with me. She woke up early and stayed up late to prepare for them. She took personal time when the daycare was closed to shop for the supplies required to accomplish all of this. She was open when she was exhausted or sick or had personal things going on. She greeted them each and every day with a smile, even if she may not have felt like it. She never ran out of hugs. The children were never bored and always had something to tell me about their day when I picked them up. She respected and cooperated with our parenting style. She was thoughtful and kind and accepting of their individual personalities. We are so lucky to have had this woman as a part of our lives.

Now, I know some of you may be thinking that this is her job, she chooses to do this for a living, what is the big deal? The big deal is that there is nothing in this world more important to me than my children (and Husband). To be able to hand them off to someone else each day for up to nine hours and not need to worry about them...that is priceless. Of course there is an actual budget we have to live by and I could only afford a particular amount each week for the daycare service itself, the peace of mind she gave me was truly priceless and I was so lucky to have found her, known her and lived so close to her.

So, I hope that by writing this blog entry she will understand, at least a little bit, about how I feel. I hope she gets a chance to read this and know that I mean each and every single word from the bottom of my heart. I hope I never loose touch with her. My childrens' lives have been greatly enriched irreversibly just by knowing her. Hayley, I love you very much and thank you, for everything. Thank you for being you. Thank you for loving my children. Really, truly...Thank you.

Nature vs. Nurture

I have heard this comparison for as long as I can remember. It has always made perfect sense to me.  There are naturally occurring parts of our personalities and our physical traits and then there are the things in and about us that change over time due to our all encompassing environment. Not only have I lived through it myself in my own upbringing, but I have it in my mind while I parent my own children. I am a firm believer that all children are born with their very specific personality. It is up to us, as parents, to recognize all the complicated parts of their individual personality. Our job is to nurture them, guide them and help them grow with their personality and be able to function with them during their lives, not to change them.

I grew up with two mothers. In order to keep this less confusing for you while I write, I will call one Mother and one Mom. My Mother gave birth to me and raised me until I was three years old. My Mom married my Father when I was three years old and they had custody of and raised me and my brothers. My Mom had two sons who were older than me. I also have two little brothers from my Mother and Father. Later, my Mom and Father gave me one more little brother. Five brother in all. The six of us all had very distinct and different personalities, most of which have stayed true to present day. Reflecting on our growing up years and raising three children of my own has given me an even deeper respect for my parents. Sometimes it boggles my mind to think of how they did it all. I was very lucky.

I am like my Mother. I physically look like her. I have her legs and feet, her closed mouth smile. I chew like her, laugh like her and move my pursed lips side to side like her while I am thinking hard. I was blessed with her beautiful singing voice and creative and crafty skills. Sometimes, when I talk, I even sound like her, especially if I slip into a little southern drawl. I love being a mother and would do almost anything for my children. My pure, raw thoughts and emotions are very similar to hers. I can not explain this one very well, but knowing her as long as I did and reading some of her letters and journals, I know I am right on. I even remember one time when I was around eighteen years old we decided to arm wrestle. We actually ended it at a deadlock, neither of us could budge the other. Similar strength.

I was not raised by my Mother. When I was three I went to live with my Father and Mom. After this, I saw my Mother during the summer breaks while in school and over a holiday here and there. She lived thirteen hundred miles away and we were still so much alike. Nature.

I am also like my Mom. I am confident and strong, opinionated and thoughtful. I have a very strong pull towards my family and keeping all of us together. I am extremely organized and have a very strong work ethic. I know what I want and I will usually go for it, as long as it is fairly reasonable. I love music, it can move me very deeply. I physically carry myself the same way and we are often complimented on how much we look alike. We have learned to just nod, smile and say "Thank you." When I am in pain, physically, mentally or any other way it comes, you may not even know it unless you ask the right questions. I try not to burden others with my own issues, although, I am learning to try. I absolutely adore being a mother and would do anything for my children.

My Mom did not give birth to me yet our similarities rival those between my Mother and I. I was able to see my Mom nearly everyday and it shows in my everyday life, even now. I am grateful to have had her raise me. I would not be the same person I am now if she had not been my Mom from such a young age. I love my Mother dearly, but I do know there were some weaknesses in her personality that I would have absorbed too deeply into myself. I mean no disrespect to my Mother, please do not misunderstand. All I mean is that if she had raised me we would have been exactly alike. I will not get into all of the details of her life but I can say that she had many very meaningful struggles for so many different reasons throughout her life and my similar personality tendencies would have brought me in the same directions. Being raised by my Mom allowed me to keep some of my Mother's traits while being slightly overpowered by some stronger traits. I am forever grateful. Nurture.

Living through all of this personally has made me a better mother to my own children, in my opinion. I was blessed with two sons who could not be more opposite than the other. I have called them my salt and pepper babies. My oldest has brown hair and eyes and naturally tan skin that he inherited from his father. My eleven year old has red hair and hazel eyes along with my very fair skin and a few freckles. One got my crooked teeth and one got their father's straight teeth. One got my poor vision and the other got 20/20. The personalities they were born with are completely opposite, too. One is athletic, eager to please, sensitive, temperamental, lovingly kind and not afraid of a little hard work. The other is creative and imaginative, very sharing, argumentative, stubborn, walks to his own beat and is a little afraid of hard work. They are both amazing individuals and I am proud to know them. I am lucky to be a part of their lives and guide them every day.

How do I do this? Carefully. The athlete is allowed to be one as long as his grades stay up and the sport remains fun. The imaginative one is encouraged and complimented when he creates something new. The temperamental one is made to take a step back, take a deep breath and think about the current situation. The argumentative one is made to pause, maybe apologize and be a bit more respectful. I am actually encouraging him to try out for the debate team when he gets to a grade level that offers it. There is a time and place for arguing and it is not always a bad thing, it just needs to be channelled in the proper direction. There are so many pieces to each of them. I do not want to stifle or change them. My goal is to teach them to grow with, accept and use the natural talents they were each born with. I have to be extremely patient. I think I am. None of this is something I feel you can be taught. I worry at times that I may be doing some of these things wrong.  I honestly make a lot of this up as I go. I use my instincts, my gut feelings. I have to do things a little bit different for each of them while still trying to remain fair. I can only try to do the best I can and stay true to myself.