slipping through my fingers...

Slipping through my fingers all the time 

I try to capture every minute 

The feeling in it 

Slipping through my fingers all the time 

Do I really see what's in her mind 

Each time I think I'm close to knowing 

She keeps on growing 

Slipping through my fingers all the time 

Dear Opal,

i miss you. I tell you that all the time, and you look at me like I'm crazy..."but mom, I'm right here." But I still miss you, even when you're close. Lately I have failed actually being with you when I'm with you. After a crazy-long day, it's late and I rush you through the bedtime routine (shower, jammies, floss, brush, mouthwash, kiss daddy, into bed, read a book, tell a story, sing a song)...and the moment you finally close your eyes and drift off...my heart aches. When I sit on the edge of your bed and watch you peacefully sleep I suddenly don't care how late it is, how much homework I have, or how much destruction we've managed to do to the house that day. I only wish I had tried harder to capture every minute I spent with you. 

I probably shouldn't be listening the 'Slipping Through my Fingers' on repeat while writing this post, I literally just want to write the exact lyrics. This song kills me. Thing is...I'm so tired of sticking to a schedule rather than having fun with you; the only hope I can cling to is that one day you'll realize what all this was for. Most nights before passing out myself, in a very small voice I convince Steven that we just need to move to another country. Forget school, leave our comfort zones, friends, and family...sell all our things and just start over. I see it as an amazing family adventure! Truth is, we can't just leave, because it's not going to accomplish what I'm really after...it's not going to freeze time, you're still going to keep growing.

Just promise me this, you wont remember me as the crazy mom: always rushing, going 20 over the speed limit, walking too fast, carrying twice my weight in groceries in from the car because i don't have time to make a second trip...then crying when my bottle of wine falls out and breaks on the pavement. 

Promise me you wont remember me as the angry mom: giving you the 'mean mom' look when you wont eat your dinner, getting annoyed when you spill a huge box of couscous on the kitchen floor when I'm trying to make dinner, yelling at you from the car to "JUST GET IN!' when you feel like stopping to pick flowers on your way.

Promise me you wont remember me as the distracted mom...always having to repeat yourself because I'm in the middle of sending an important text/email, falling asleep when we read books before bed, doing my homework instead playing Candyland with you.

...because although all of these things are true...

I'm also the mom who: makes sure I always have your top 3 favorite breakfast foods on hand, listens to Justin Beaver's* album on repeat whenever you're in the car, picks stubborn boogers out of your nose (I'd ONLY ever do this for you), plans movie nights with you, loves to have you help me cook, asks you about your day, volunteers in your class every week, buys you everything you want (this one could backfire on me..), takes you to dance classes, swimming lessons, and soon, T-ball!

I'm the mom who loves you with her entire being. I think about you constantly, doodle your name during class, worry about you when I'm not there, and always planning out our next adventure. 

so, yes, i miss you. probably always will. 

Love,

marm

*Opal calls him Beaver, we don't have the heart to tell her the truth.

your mom goes to college

I'm goin' back to college...I'm goin' back to college...

                                      Well...not technically.

I never actually WENT to college to begin with. It just didn't feel...I dunno...necessary? I thought for sure I could become rich with out it. But then things came up...things like Opal. Then after Opal, I figured Steven and I were in the baby making business and that I would take on the role of stay at home Marm. I would spend mornings (and lets face it afternoons) in sweats, make pancakes with smiley faces on them, read books under sheet forts in the living room, kiss boo-boo's all better, plan movie nights with milkshakes and Surprise Popcorn (simply hiding gummy worms inside popcorn). I decided striving towards becoming Mom of the Year was pretty much awesome. And along the way I realized, yeah, it's not just fun lazy days at home. There are still mounds of laundry to wash while you're wearing those comfy sweats, pancakes 4 times a week will make you cringe when you step on the scale, sheet forts are a bitch to set up...and take down, and movie nights may consist of watching Tangled 12 times in a row...and Opal getting sugar-high from only eating the gummy worms. On the other hand, I never anticipated how rewarding it would be. Being a 24/7 mom to Opal has been not only the hardest job in my entire life, but also taught me the meaning of the word patience.  As cheesy as it sounds, I don't think I really knew what love meant until I mothered...it's an unprecedented, unselfish, and thankless job. So thanks to Opal, I feel I can conquer anything else in life. College-schmollege.

But babies grow up, way too fast, and without permission. Leaving mothers wondering what the hell they're going to do with themselves. I'm involved in the PTA, I volunteer in her class once a week...I eat lunch at her school as much as possible...I'm walking a fine line between being the involved parent and the overbearing-can't-cut-the-cord-spy-on-my-child-from-my-car-during-recess-mom. And since our plan to make tons of babies didn't quite work out (more on that another time), I decided it was time to think of other things I want to do.

The main reason I'm going to school is for Opal. I know for a fact that girls want to do the exact opposite of what their mothers want them to do. This is a sad truth I face in my every day life. For example, I suggest Opal wear her rain boots, she thinks ballet flats are a much better idea. I bring out pink nail polish to paint on her toes, Opal thinks black would be much cuter. I pick out her favorite gum while in line at the grocery store and give her my 'aren't I the coolest mom' smile...she'd rather have a snickers bar. And she doesn't even like nuts. This is a little game we've been playing for about 4 years now. 

This in mind, I know when it comes time to talk seriously about college, she will turn to me and speak the words I fear most. They go something like this, "Mom, you didn't go to college and you're doing alright. I just want to get married and have babies like you did!" Insert my loudest wailing cry, fists in the air, head turned up to the sky asking WHY, GOD, WHY?! I figure, if she grows up watching her mom go to school she will get excited about it. Also, it will be kind of amazing to have my daughter there to see me graduate, so I can look up at her and give her my 'aren't I the coolest mom' smile. 

Second reason is, I'm not rich. So this is plan B.

Final reason I'm going to college...I'm really bored.

Wish me Luck!

C

Smarty Pants

I don't mean to brag buuuuuuut....my daughter is a genius.  

She's newly five, and loves to read. She recently started reading chapter books! Her favorites are Betsy and Tacy, American Girl, and The Boxcar Children. I can't wait for the Nancy Drew phase.

Yesterday I snapped this photo of Opal reading Dr. Seuss, she had just informed me that ''Dr. Seuss makes up words and his books usually don't make any sense.'' We were pulling out books one after the next from her bookshelf (as you can see in the background) and she was reading them to me. It's incredible. I rarely have to help her, which shocks me because the English language is so confusing! Since we started working on words with Opal about a year ago, we realized that the rules are-there are no rules. There aren't any consistent tips or tricks to help you learn it. 

Lately, we've been wracking our brains trying to decide what we're gonna get her for Christmas. The kid does not play with toys--at all. Which is devastating to me because I was big into toys-especially Barbies, probably for far too long actually...like 11..that's not too old, right? 

I think we went wrong somewhere, Opal never really mastered the whole playing independently thing. And quite honestly, I don't really want to sit in her room for two hours playing dollhouse. When kids play in their room that's time for moms to do laundry, clean the kitchen...use the bathroom. So yesterday when she looked over the top of her book and said, "Mom, I LOOOOVE books more than anything" I had my answer. I am going to give Opal books, tons and tons of books. 

She was so proud when she read all of Green Eggs and Ham

She likes to read to Otis

We do actually read books by authors other than Dr. Seuss...not sure why I only have pictures of her reading these!