Bullies and braids and bras . . . oh my!

I start my day with Brooke asking for the 100th time if she can have a bra. She’s 8. Why does an 8 year old need a bra? She doesn’t. She is bombarded, however, by the message that she does. When we go to stores that sell clothing for girls her age, they have bras. Her favorite TV stars are photographed with their bra straps showing. So she thinks she needs one. I put her off again. “We’ll see.”

So we head out to a fun day camp for the girls! They love this camp because they get to jump and play. I love it because they come home exhausted and go to bed easily. But today, when I go to pick them up, they are not loving it. Brooke is crying and Emma is consoling her. A little bully has ruined their summer day. I’m so mad I can’t see straight. This little girl was mean to my daughters, taught them words that I don’t even use, and even showed them attitude I was hoping they would not see until they were at least 13.

After a long day we settle in for a little bit of family time. Emma decides today is the day she would like to learn to braid. Fabulous. I am fresh out of patience and she is a little young for the task. This should go well. After a bit of frustrating practice on her doll, we switch to thread. Still a challenge. Then, eureka. The light bulb goes off and she begins to braid. I give her back the doll and she puts little braids all over that doll. She completely got it. She learned something new today in just an hour. I’m so proud.

Bullies, braids and bras. 3 more things nobody EVER told me to prepare for before we decided to have babies. I’m adding them to my list. It’s a long list.

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Happy Birthday to Me!

Yesterday was my birthday. I turned 32. Yes you read that right, 32. I know what you are thinking, she looks too young to be 32 but its true. I was born on May 21, 1976. I am a proud bicentennial baby. I had a wonderful day thanks to my wonderful family. Mom and Leslie took me out to lunch and we played hookie from work (one of the benefits of owning the place!) We went shoe shopping all afternoon We picked up the girls from school then just kept shopping! For dinner, we met up with Dad, John, Craig and Carrie at La Hacienda for margaritas and yummy Mexican food. John even ran out after we were home from dinner to get me a cake. He made sure to have 3 candles on one side and 2 on the other because, as I said, I am 32 now. I'm happy to be 32. Everything I wanted as a kid, you had to be 30 something to have. Kids, a great husband, nice house etc. So to me, its like I have arrived! I'm finally the age I have felt for a long time. I think I was always in my thirties even when I was in my twenties. So Happy Birthday to me!

The flu

I’m home sick today; it seems I have the flu.

I got it from my daughter, I hope I don’t give it to you.

My body hurts and my head aches,

I wish I had chicken soup like my mom makes.

I’m hot and I’m cold with fever and chills

I hope to get better soon, I’m taking my pills.

Three o’clock is the time I fear

For that is the time my children will be here.

They will fight and bicker and make a big mess

But I will lay in bed ignoring them and rest nonetheless.

COOL MOM YET?

So I took my girls and their friends to see the Hannah Montana Concert Movie in 3D. I’m hoping that makes me a “cool” mom because nothing else I’ve tried has worked. I was hoping for more of Billy Ray singing to me but I had to settle for young Miley Cirus wearing clothes that I really think she stole from my middle school closet. It was really fun. The girls sang and laughed and I enjoyed popcorn with my friend who is also in the running for coolest mom ever (I’m pretty sure we’re tied.) The entire time, I just kept thinking, “please stay a good girl Miley.” My girls look at her like she is the most amazing thing in the world. I remember that feeling. I loved Tiffany. Then Tiffany grew up and did some not-so-nice things. It seems like, all the icons my daughters adore are failing them. I can’t believe I used to sing Britney Spears songs to Brooke when she was a baby. Now I just pray she doesn’t catch a picture of her while we are at the grocery store check out line. I try to think of who would make a good role model for my daughters? Who can help them see their own beauty? Then it dawns on me. Me. I am the one that God has given to them to show them how to be a woman of character. Not Miley Cirus, not Ashley Tisdale, certainly not Britney Spears. Its me. It is up to me to teach them to be confident yet humble. Beautiful yet modest. That’s a lot of pressure for someone who is still trying to figure those things out myself. I hope they look at me and think I’m the most amazing thing ever. I hope I don’t let them down.

What a surprise!

“We have a surprise for you!” That was how my parents told me and my sister that we were going to have a little brother. A “surprise.” My sister said, “No really, what’s my real surprise?” A surprise indeed. Looking back, I don’t really know what my mom was thinking. She finally had both of her children in elementary school and she decided to start all over again with a baby. We loved him though. We played dress up with him. Poor kid, we treated him like a toy. He didn’t seem to mind too much as a baby but once he was a toddler, he wasn’t so much fun anymore. He destroyed our “stuff,” got in our way, tagged along to everything. He was a typical pesky little brother. We grew up in the same house but we eventually grew apart. He was a wild little boy, I was a quiet young girl. He was always getting in trouble, I tried my hardest to be good. All of the things I stayed away from in high school, he was chasing in middle school. We had nothing in common. As most girls do, I paid more attention to my friends and my boyfriend than my own brother. Girls, skateboards and computers were more important to him than his sister. Time went on and the differences between us seemed greater than ever. By the time I was in college, he was just my kid brother who was always in trouble. I remember at my wedding, he forced himself to wear a tuxedo and smile through his long blonde hair for pictures. I really appreciated that. The picture of my brother and my new husband together, both grinning, is priceless. He had a very different high school experience than I did. He got into lots of trouble trying new things and experiencing things he shouldn’t. I just prayed for his safety. I’ll never forget the day my first baby was born. My wild, trouble-maker brother came to the hospital to meet his first niece. I started making excuses for him to my doctor, “My little brother will be here soon. He dyed his hair bright yellow, like a highlighter. He’s a little . . . “ My doctor stopped me there. He said, “He’s your brother, here’s here while you have a baby. I deliver lots of babies to women with no family. He’s here for you, who cares what color his hair is.” We have priceless pictures of this young, yellow (not blonde, yellow!) haired punk kid holding my tiny newborn daughter. He finally graduated from high school, barely! I found his friends strange and scary and his girlfriends even worse. After a few years of community college, he transferred to great college in the Hill Country. He left behind several friends who would never step foot on a college campus. Most of the kids he “hung out” with, were still just “hanging out.” He began to really find himself. I like to say he began to use his powers for good, not evil! He started getting good grades in really hard classes. He was learning things I couldn’t even pronounce. Then came the call that he had met a girl. I could tell just from the way he described her, that she was different. I was thrilled when I met her and she was so nice, and so pretty. They were so in love. I wasn’t at all surprised when he told me he wanted to marry her. They were so compatible and lovely together. He proposed high upon a mountain in Durango, Colorado on a beautiful January day. She of course, said yes. He had arranged for a photographer to be there and captured every second on film. As I looked at the pictures of my pesky little brother, I began to see a man. He was smart, successful, kind, generous, and happy. What a surprise. My parents had no idea when they told us about that surprise, what a true surprise he would be.