For someone who woke up saying "Hey, my clock is still blue. Get outta here!" when I came in to her room this morning, E sure did end up having a banner day.
July 18 was a big day for the whole Cowfamily, in fact. Dr. J officially welcomed his first patients today. After 20 long years, he's in business. It was a big moment, and his mom and dad came to share it with us.
But somehow, E might have still come out on top. After all, J didn't get to be a sous-chef in a fancy restaurant. And he most certainly did not get himself immortalized in a piece of the city.
The day started early as we accompanied J to his clinic to start the day. We delivered cucumber water and met his parents, who were eagerly awaiting his arrival.
We arrived home to see Tony Baloney and his construction crew pouring concrete for the new sidewalk in front of our house. They started the work on Friday replacing our uneven tiles, and he and E made fast friends even though she declined his request for her to join his crew. Today E decided to sit and watch them work, and it wasn't long before Tony suggested that she get her hands dirty, literally. "Come here!" he directed. She complied hesitantly, and he told her to spread her fingers out wide before grabbing her wrists and plopping them down in the wet concrete. He then whisked her away to the truck to rinse off her hands before returning to carefully inscribe her name and the year under her paw prints for posterity. It was absolutely heart-meltingly adorable, and E was over the moon. Best day ever.
AND THEN. We went to dinner to celebrate J's first day, where she quickly gained the attention of the chefs in the open kitchen behind us. She was all smiles and cuteness, and it wasn't long before the head chef came out and asked if E wanted to have a hand in making our dinner. He placed a chef hat on her head, took her hand and led her back to the kitchen, where she made eyes at one of the chefs as well as some pasta. Once she was done the bartender came over with a very special fancy drink that he had created especially for her, along with the recipe so we could recreate it at home. All that AND dessert on a Monday night?
What a day.
Monday, July 18, 2016
Saturday, July 16, 2016
Perfectly Ordinary
Best day ever.
Well, okay, wedding day was pretty great. Daughter being born fairly noteworthy as well. And sure, lots of other days have won out in terms of excitement and/or general spectacularity. But today? Today was an example of "My Perfect Perfectly Ordinary Day".
Gardening. Neighbours. Great friends. Children running from yard to yard...to yard. Outside the whole day. Patio lunch. Patio beer. An awesome sense of accomplishment from working hard and getting dirty, while having fun and taking it easy, all at the same time. Not a single blip. No whining. No fighting. No drama.
Contented sigh.
Well, okay, wedding day was pretty great. Daughter being born fairly noteworthy as well. And sure, lots of other days have won out in terms of excitement and/or general spectacularity. But today? Today was an example of "My Perfect Perfectly Ordinary Day".
Gardening. Neighbours. Great friends. Children running from yard to yard...to yard. Outside the whole day. Patio lunch. Patio beer. An awesome sense of accomplishment from working hard and getting dirty, while having fun and taking it easy, all at the same time. Not a single blip. No whining. No fighting. No drama.
Contented sigh.
Thursday, June 16, 2016
Lots of updates to get to...but first things first:
I am officially unemployed. And it feels GREAT.
In 8 days E will be finished school and in 12 days we're loading up and leaving Ottawa, but in the meantime I've quit my job and I'm taking the summer off. That feels almost as good to type as it does to do.
So how was Day 1 of Summer Vacation? FANtastic.
It's funny how easy it is to get to school on time when you no longer care if you get to school on time. 3 minutes early with no squabbling or mad rushes out the door. Sha-Zam!
It's also interesting how long brunch can take when your child is at school and you have no reason to get up from a comfy chesterfield. (2 hours.)
And when you do finally make it home and get down to packing, it's funny how much time there is to try different packing strategies, consider organization techniques, and even to stop and chill out once and a while. Ka-Pow!
It's 5:30. Dinner preparation should be in full swing, but I'm on the couch snuggling with E (who's watching Octonauts) and J (who's doing who knows what on his computer over there). Dinner will get on the table...E will get in the bath...I'll probably do a little more packing at some point...but I have officially ceased to be concerned about keeping to a strict schedule and constantly watching the clock, worrying about one thing or another.
Because, did I mention? I'M ON VACATION!!!
Monday, April 4, 2016
So...condoms.
I guess on some level I expected an awkward conversation to come out of today's events. I mean, let's look at the facts. I took an inquisitive six-year-old to a charity softball tournament where a bunch of dudes in drag were tossing their balls around, and other euphemisms.
And while I hummed and hawed over what to wear to such an event, she didn't miss a beat:
Fits right in, doesn't she?
We watched some baseball, ate some cupcakes and hot dogs, drank some beer and had a great afternoon soaking up the sun and scenery.
Did I mention that the whole event was a fundraiser for Bruce House, an organization that provides housing and resources for people living with HIV and AIDS? A great cause that we were happy to support, but perhaps a little more thought could have gone into the questions that might arise out of such an experience.
For example.
We wandered by a table selling various items including red ribbons, lollipops and snacks. There was one bowl I hadn't noticed that attracted E's attention on account of the bag of chips that was perched on top of it. Unfortunately, under those chips sat a large pile of vibrantly hued condoms.
"What are those mom?"
Damnit. I was about to find out whether the beer buzz I was rocking would help or hinder the situation. I saw the ladies sitting at the table exchange expressions of thinly-veiled glee at landing front row seats to watch me squirm. Candy? If I said it was candy and she couldn't have it would I get away with it? Or would that lead to some even more awkward and/or horrifying experience in later years for both of us?
Whattodowhattodowhattodo....
"Uhmmmmm...those are condoms." End of story? HAHAHAHAHAHA...no.
E: What are condoms?
M: They're for grown-ups.
E: But what are they?
M: ... Ok E, I'm going to be straight with you. I think it's an important question and it deserves an answer, but I've had a couple of beers and it's very hot out and I feel like maybe I should take some time to think about what I want to say before we have this conversation. How about you remind me tomorrow and I promise I will give you an answer.
E: But why can't you just tell me right now?
M: Because it's a pretty grown-up thing and it's a bit complicated to explain, and I want to make sure that I give you the right amount of information, so I need to be able to think about it first.
E: Well, why don't you just try, and if I don't get it THEN you can think about it?
M: ... (this is happening) ... Ok. Here it is. They're sort of like raincoats for penises.
E: WHAT?!
M: Yep. You know how you wear a raincoat when it's raining to protect you from the rain? Well, when people have sex there are some diseases that can be spread from one person to another because there are germs in all body fluids, so people put condoms on to protect themselves from getting those germs.
E: A raincoat. I get it. That's not complicated, mom.
M: Awesome! Who wants a cupcake?
And while I hummed and hawed over what to wear to such an event, she didn't miss a beat:
Fits right in, doesn't she?
We watched some baseball, ate some cupcakes and hot dogs, drank some beer and had a great afternoon soaking up the sun and scenery.
Did I mention that the whole event was a fundraiser for Bruce House, an organization that provides housing and resources for people living with HIV and AIDS? A great cause that we were happy to support, but perhaps a little more thought could have gone into the questions that might arise out of such an experience.
For example.
We wandered by a table selling various items including red ribbons, lollipops and snacks. There was one bowl I hadn't noticed that attracted E's attention on account of the bag of chips that was perched on top of it. Unfortunately, under those chips sat a large pile of vibrantly hued condoms.
"What are those mom?"
Damnit. I was about to find out whether the beer buzz I was rocking would help or hinder the situation. I saw the ladies sitting at the table exchange expressions of thinly-veiled glee at landing front row seats to watch me squirm. Candy? If I said it was candy and she couldn't have it would I get away with it? Or would that lead to some even more awkward and/or horrifying experience in later years for both of us?
Whattodowhattodowhattodo....
"Uhmmmmm...those are condoms." End of story? HAHAHAHAHAHA...no.
E: What are condoms?
M: They're for grown-ups.
E: But what are they?
M: ... Ok E, I'm going to be straight with you. I think it's an important question and it deserves an answer, but I've had a couple of beers and it's very hot out and I feel like maybe I should take some time to think about what I want to say before we have this conversation. How about you remind me tomorrow and I promise I will give you an answer.
E: But why can't you just tell me right now?
M: Because it's a pretty grown-up thing and it's a bit complicated to explain, and I want to make sure that I give you the right amount of information, so I need to be able to think about it first.
E: Well, why don't you just try, and if I don't get it THEN you can think about it?
M: ... (this is happening) ... Ok. Here it is. They're sort of like raincoats for penises.
E: WHAT?!
M: Yep. You know how you wear a raincoat when it's raining to protect you from the rain? Well, when people have sex there are some diseases that can be spread from one person to another because there are germs in all body fluids, so people put condoms on to protect themselves from getting those germs.
E: A raincoat. I get it. That's not complicated, mom.
M: Awesome! Who wants a cupcake?
Saturday, March 26, 2016
Fast facts
My goodness it has been a while.
E is trying to explain how difficult it is to get all of the pieces of her board game back in the box. I sympathize that it sounds tricky. "Yeah," she replies. "It's a real struggle".
So much affection since she turned 7! Lots of hugs, cuddles, "Best Mom Ever!"s. Great efforts at "no argue days", interspersed with arguments.
Amazing 6K run on a glorious sunny 12 degree day in March. Ran to the shoe store, bought shoes for mom and E, ran home. Some walking breaks, but mostly running. So impressed. Talking about our next run, explaining a 3km route that I've mapped out. I describe it as a rectangle, drawing it in the air. "Mom, that's not a rectangle. That's an upside down trapezium." Of course it is.
Still mixing up b's and d's, both writing and reading. Reversing some numbers, mostly 5's and 9's. Focusing on those for March Break. Planning to meet with teachers after break to develop plan of action for rest of year.
Whole family moving to London. Best thing ever.
Birthday party at Humane Society. Loves birds - wants a bird for a pet. Still crazy loves animals.
That's all I've got.
E is trying to explain how difficult it is to get all of the pieces of her board game back in the box. I sympathize that it sounds tricky. "Yeah," she replies. "It's a real struggle".
So much affection since she turned 7! Lots of hugs, cuddles, "Best Mom Ever!"s. Great efforts at "no argue days", interspersed with arguments.
Amazing 6K run on a glorious sunny 12 degree day in March. Ran to the shoe store, bought shoes for mom and E, ran home. Some walking breaks, but mostly running. So impressed. Talking about our next run, explaining a 3km route that I've mapped out. I describe it as a rectangle, drawing it in the air. "Mom, that's not a rectangle. That's an upside down trapezium." Of course it is.
Still mixing up b's and d's, both writing and reading. Reversing some numbers, mostly 5's and 9's. Focusing on those for March Break. Planning to meet with teachers after break to develop plan of action for rest of year.
Whole family moving to London. Best thing ever.
Birthday party at Humane Society. Loves birds - wants a bird for a pet. Still crazy loves animals.
That's all I've got.
Sunday, November 1, 2015
The Birds and The Bees: Ep 3
...because apparently, I'm a glutton for punishment.
It's bedtime. The time for all agonizingly complex discussions.
This instalment was pretty epic, covering ovulation, intercourse and even a little voyeurism thrown in there to keep things fresh.
E: Can you get pregnant but not on purpose?
M: Yes, it's possible.
E: Even if you're not taking the pills?
M: Well, the pills aren't what makes you pregnant. The pills are just extra vitamins to help make sure the baby is healthy.
E: Oh. Then what makes the baby?
M: Do you remember when we talked about that? About the woman having the egg, and the sperm from them man fertilizing the egg?
E: Yeah, but how does that happen?
M: We talked about that too. The sperm comes out of the man's penis and goes into the woman's vagina.
E: But HOW does that happen? Does the sperm just come out and float around and then how does it end up in the vagina?
M: No, the penis fits into the vagina for it to happen.
E: Oh. How many times do you have to do it?
M: Usually for several days right around the day that the egg gets released.
E: When is that?
M: Well, the first day of your period is the first day of your cycle, and the egg is released around the 14th day, so in about 10 days from now.
E: Do people usually do it when the baby is asleep?
M: Well, the baby isn't made yet. This happens when they're trying to make a baby.
E: No, like the kids. The other kids. Do people do it when their other kids are asleep? At night?
M: Usually.
E: Why?
M: It's just a good time.
...wait for it...
E: Can I watch you guys do it?
...Yep. Just let that sink in for a minute...
M: No.
E: Why not?
M: Well, it's a very private and personal thing that two people do together.
E: Why?
M: It just is. It involves private parts and it's only meant to be between two people.
E: But why can't I just see it once so I can understand it?
M: There's nothing bad about it that we don't want you to see, it's just inappropriate for you to see it. Just like there's nothing wrong with being naked, but we don't walk around in public naked because it's inappropriate.
E: Pleeeease? Can I please watch just once? (puppy dog eyes)
J: Hey guys, what's up?
oh thank god oh thank god oh thank god oh thank god oh thank god oh thank god oh thank god
M: HEY DADA! LOOK! The guinea pigs are happy to see you! Maybe we should feed the guinea pigs some hay! E - want to feed the guina pigs???
Loooong exhale.
It's bedtime. The time for all agonizingly complex discussions.
This instalment was pretty epic, covering ovulation, intercourse and even a little voyeurism thrown in there to keep things fresh.
E: Can you get pregnant but not on purpose?
M: Yes, it's possible.
E: Even if you're not taking the pills?
M: Well, the pills aren't what makes you pregnant. The pills are just extra vitamins to help make sure the baby is healthy.
E: Oh. Then what makes the baby?
M: Do you remember when we talked about that? About the woman having the egg, and the sperm from them man fertilizing the egg?
E: Yeah, but how does that happen?
M: We talked about that too. The sperm comes out of the man's penis and goes into the woman's vagina.
E: But HOW does that happen? Does the sperm just come out and float around and then how does it end up in the vagina?
M: No, the penis fits into the vagina for it to happen.
E: Oh. How many times do you have to do it?
M: Usually for several days right around the day that the egg gets released.
E: When is that?
M: Well, the first day of your period is the first day of your cycle, and the egg is released around the 14th day, so in about 10 days from now.
E: Do people usually do it when the baby is asleep?
M: Well, the baby isn't made yet. This happens when they're trying to make a baby.
E: No, like the kids. The other kids. Do people do it when their other kids are asleep? At night?
M: Usually.
E: Why?
M: It's just a good time.
...wait for it...
E: Can I watch you guys do it?
...Yep. Just let that sink in for a minute...
M: No.
E: Why not?
M: Well, it's a very private and personal thing that two people do together.
E: Why?
M: It just is. It involves private parts and it's only meant to be between two people.
E: But why can't I just see it once so I can understand it?
M: There's nothing bad about it that we don't want you to see, it's just inappropriate for you to see it. Just like there's nothing wrong with being naked, but we don't walk around in public naked because it's inappropriate.
E: Pleeeease? Can I please watch just once? (puppy dog eyes)
J: Hey guys, what's up?
oh thank god oh thank god oh thank god oh thank god oh thank god oh thank god oh thank god
M: HEY DADA! LOOK! The guinea pigs are happy to see you! Maybe we should feed the guinea pigs some hay! E - want to feed the guina pigs???
Loooong exhale.
Sunday, September 27, 2015
Riding the Rideau!
On the flip side of the coin from that last post, this weekend we were that "take life by the horns" family...except for that getting up early bit. That part we haven't caught on to yet.
Today we fulfilled one of my dad's bucket list items and cycled the Rideau Canal. We've been talking about it for a year or so, and I've been patiently waiting for E to really take off with this bike riding thing. This month we've been riding our bikes to school and work almost every day, so we figured it was time we tackled the canal adventure before the snow flies.
Of course, this being a day I planned on getting up bright and early to make sandwiches and prepare all kinds of delicious picnic accoutrements, E simply insisted on staying in bed and snuggling. I tell you that kid is going to regret these mind games when I'm in the looney bin.
Once I was allowed out of bed I threw together what I could while J tried valiantly (and successfully) to navigate the mysteries of bike rack assembly and my parents (who arrived on time on account of not having a 50 pound problem to slow them down) showered us with gifts from their recent adventures and snuck pieces of freshly made bread as I sliced.
Finally, we were all packed up and racked up and raring to get our bike tour on. Mom and dad were sitting eagerly in their vehicle, E was all buckled up in ours. So I hopped into the front seat, pushed the go button (still can't get used to not having a key) and...crickets. The car died. Again. The first time was on my way to the Beer Run a couple of weeks ago. If that's not a sign that exercise is bad for me and I should spend more time eating ice cream, well then this world makes no sense.
But, just like two weeks ago, it was nothing a set of jumper cables couldn't fix. So off we were a few minutes later to Hog's Back Park, where we would start our journey, and where I mistakenly believed was the end of the canal. (Interesting note: Today I learned that the Rideau Canal is 202 km long...so I was only off by about 193 km.)
Now, our journey from Hog's Back Park to Chateau Laurier and back was mapped out to be 20.0km. E's longest bike journey up to this point has been 3.8km. I'm not crazy. I may not know the length of the Rideau Canal, but I can see a losing battle from at least 16.2km away. I opted to have E and I do a shorter loop, with my parents continuing on and meeting us at the end for lunch. That was the plan.
Instead, E blew all of our expectations out of the water and biked. the. whole. way. What?! Yes. There were a few stops, but all in all it took us just over 2 hours, which I consider to be pretty flipping astounding. Not to mention those super old fart parents of mine who are so comfortable in their seventies that they're starting to flirt with the next decade.
The weather was glorious. The ride was spectacular. The day was perfect. And we're all looking forward to the next time.
Today we fulfilled one of my dad's bucket list items and cycled the Rideau Canal. We've been talking about it for a year or so, and I've been patiently waiting for E to really take off with this bike riding thing. This month we've been riding our bikes to school and work almost every day, so we figured it was time we tackled the canal adventure before the snow flies.
Of course, this being a day I planned on getting up bright and early to make sandwiches and prepare all kinds of delicious picnic accoutrements, E simply insisted on staying in bed and snuggling. I tell you that kid is going to regret these mind games when I'm in the looney bin.
Once I was allowed out of bed I threw together what I could while J tried valiantly (and successfully) to navigate the mysteries of bike rack assembly and my parents (who arrived on time on account of not having a 50 pound problem to slow them down) showered us with gifts from their recent adventures and snuck pieces of freshly made bread as I sliced.
Finally, we were all packed up and racked up and raring to get our bike tour on. Mom and dad were sitting eagerly in their vehicle, E was all buckled up in ours. So I hopped into the front seat, pushed the go button (still can't get used to not having a key) and...crickets. The car died. Again. The first time was on my way to the Beer Run a couple of weeks ago. If that's not a sign that exercise is bad for me and I should spend more time eating ice cream, well then this world makes no sense.
But, just like two weeks ago, it was nothing a set of jumper cables couldn't fix. So off we were a few minutes later to Hog's Back Park, where we would start our journey, and where I mistakenly believed was the end of the canal. (Interesting note: Today I learned that the Rideau Canal is 202 km long...so I was only off by about 193 km.)
Now, our journey from Hog's Back Park to Chateau Laurier and back was mapped out to be 20.0km. E's longest bike journey up to this point has been 3.8km. I'm not crazy. I may not know the length of the Rideau Canal, but I can see a losing battle from at least 16.2km away. I opted to have E and I do a shorter loop, with my parents continuing on and meeting us at the end for lunch. That was the plan.
Instead, E blew all of our expectations out of the water and biked. the. whole. way. What?! Yes. There were a few stops, but all in all it took us just over 2 hours, which I consider to be pretty flipping astounding. Not to mention those super old fart parents of mine who are so comfortable in their seventies that they're starting to flirt with the next decade.
The weather was glorious. The ride was spectacular. The day was perfect. And we're all looking forward to the next time.
 |
| The crew |
 |
| Old farts looking spry |
 |
| Young fart not looking so spry |
 |
| Bouncing back for a little post-ride climb |
Saturday, August 8, 2015
Weekend Famjam, Cowger Style
Often, especially when on Facebook, I feel like as a family we're not grabbing life by the horns enough. I feel like we don't make the most of our weekends or a thousand opportunities every day to show E something cool or expose her to new experiences. I feel like we take the easy (lazy) way out by not planning ahead and searching things out. And it makes me feel bad.
But then, on a random Saturday morning, E wakes us up at 8:30am in a purple sparkly dress, we play Harry Potter for about an hour without getting out of bed, one of us struggles down to pour coffee just before the coffeemaker shuts off at 10am, and then we have a getting dressed dance party to Shawn Mendes and Taylor Swift before taking Ralph and walking to get bagels as the clock eases past 11am.
And as we walk, all is right with the world. (And maybe the less charitable part of me is snickering at those perky families who have been up since dawn...suckers.)
But then, on a random Saturday morning, E wakes us up at 8:30am in a purple sparkly dress, we play Harry Potter for about an hour without getting out of bed, one of us struggles down to pour coffee just before the coffeemaker shuts off at 10am, and then we have a getting dressed dance party to Shawn Mendes and Taylor Swift before taking Ralph and walking to get bagels as the clock eases past 11am.
And as we walk, all is right with the world. (And maybe the less charitable part of me is snickering at those perky families who have been up since dawn...suckers.)
Thursday, April 9, 2015
Underwear Tales...
Funny that I have enough underwear-related material to write about. Or maybe I just have a six year old and it comes with the territory. Underwear, whoopie cushions, giggling about poop...we're chock full of maturity over here.
So it occurs to me as I'm folding laundry this morning that I'm already getting my underwear confused with E's, and that just doesn't feel right. It would seem that someone needs to step up their lingerie game. (Cotton boyshorts for the win!) I decided not to mention it to J. I can't imagine a universe where that won't make at least a few of his brain cells commit suicide.
And while I was contemplating spicing up my underwear drawer, it occurred to me that I just dropped $100 at Victoria's Secret while we were in San Francisco. E was with me - I even let her pick out a bra and a few pairs of underwear for me. (I think I'm starting to identify the source of the underwear mix-up...) I also remembered J's reaction to my haul. "I guess thongs are out now?" I was, of course, quick to point out that there were two thongs in there. E even picked one of them out. Aaaand...Pop! Pop! Pop! go the brain cells...
So there we were, E and I, in the change room at VS, where I was attempting to try on a couple of bras as quickly as humanly possible before E a) decided she was DONE shopping, or b) decided to whip open the precariously draped curtain that was shielding me from the packed store.
"Mom? Can I try one on?"
Now who in their right mind would say no to the opportunity to see their first grader in a push-up bra? Oh. Everyone? Of course. Everyone but me, that is. *cough*
So first I let her try to figure it out herself. Because the picture would be way funnier. Then I made the necessary adjustments and snapped another couple photos, which I will never, never, NEVER share.
Until the wedding day.
So it occurs to me as I'm folding laundry this morning that I'm already getting my underwear confused with E's, and that just doesn't feel right. It would seem that someone needs to step up their lingerie game. (Cotton boyshorts for the win!) I decided not to mention it to J. I can't imagine a universe where that won't make at least a few of his brain cells commit suicide.
And while I was contemplating spicing up my underwear drawer, it occurred to me that I just dropped $100 at Victoria's Secret while we were in San Francisco. E was with me - I even let her pick out a bra and a few pairs of underwear for me. (I think I'm starting to identify the source of the underwear mix-up...) I also remembered J's reaction to my haul. "I guess thongs are out now?" I was, of course, quick to point out that there were two thongs in there. E even picked one of them out. Aaaand...Pop! Pop! Pop! go the brain cells...
So there we were, E and I, in the change room at VS, where I was attempting to try on a couple of bras as quickly as humanly possible before E a) decided she was DONE shopping, or b) decided to whip open the precariously draped curtain that was shielding me from the packed store.
"Mom? Can I try one on?"
Now who in their right mind would say no to the opportunity to see their first grader in a push-up bra? Oh. Everyone? Of course. Everyone but me, that is. *cough*
So first I let her try to figure it out herself. Because the picture would be way funnier. Then I made the necessary adjustments and snapped another couple photos, which I will never, never, NEVER share.
Until the wedding day.
Thursday, April 2, 2015
Making Memories
Yesterday you asked me if you could go on a run with me.
We were walking to your piano lesson - something I insisted on even though you complained that we walk every time and maybe I don't realize that walking home from school and then to and from piano lessons (combined time of approximately 30 minutes) might be too much for a six year old. The sun was shining, spring was finally starting to spring, and I was prepared to be frustrated with you.
Not a race with a bunch of people, just out for a run. With me. Just the two of us.
A smile crept across my face. I held your hand a little tighter. And I said yes. I would love that.
Maybe today or tomorrow? you asked.
Tomorrow, I replied. Quick! I thought to myself. Quick, before she doesn't want to be with you, close to you, happy to be doing what you're doing, together. Don't miss this chance!
Maybe our first real run together will be something you will always remember. Maybe it will be one of your favourite memories of the two of us together. Or maybe when I pick you up from school today you'll be too tired or you just won't feel like it. But this time, I won't insist that we get out there and enjoy ourselves whether we like it or not, because we have memories to make and a childhood to make special, dammit!
I am coming to realize that the memories make themselves. Every day, in the big and the small, the memories are being made no matter how many articles I read or hours I spend worrying about how to do it right. That moment between us yesterday was a very special one for me. I witnessed a memory being made. I felt it wriggle its way into a corner of my brain and take up residence. It felt warm.
I am also realizing that it doesn't matter to me if your memories include the coolest Hallowe'en costumes or the most original loot bags or the most elaborate vacations. I want you to remember me smiling, laughing, hugging a lot, and listening. I want to you to remember that I made you feel loved, capable, and important. And now that I've learned the secret to making memories - that my job is not to carefully select, package and insert each memory into your brain, but rather to show up and be the person I want you to remember - I find myself witnessing even more memories.
I remember holding you on my lap after dinner last night while we looked at houses on the computer with your dad. You looked through all of the pictures, searching for the perfect place in each house to set up an art table. Your bare legs were dangling over my arm, and I couldn't believe how little and how big they looked. I felt the warm weight of your back on my chest. I was so content.
I remember rubbing my cheek against yours as I carried you upstairs. We tried to decide whose cheek was softer. I thought yours. You thought mine. I think I've never felt a cheek so soft and warm and unbelievably kissable.
I remember how much I love our Uno games before bed, and how I love it when you win. I used to lose on purpose, but I worried that winning all of the time might make you a poor sport. So then I won a couple of times, and worried that you would lose your confidence and not want to play anymore. Now I just play. Because you're not going to remember how many times you won or lost. You're going to remember that you and mom and dad played hundreds of games of Uno before bed and there was a lot of laughter, a few tears, and an alarming amount of trash talk.
The moral of the story is the same as every moral since Elsa and Anna came on the scene: Let it Go. The memories are making themselves. Let them.
We were walking to your piano lesson - something I insisted on even though you complained that we walk every time and maybe I don't realize that walking home from school and then to and from piano lessons (combined time of approximately 30 minutes) might be too much for a six year old. The sun was shining, spring was finally starting to spring, and I was prepared to be frustrated with you.
Not a race with a bunch of people, just out for a run. With me. Just the two of us.
A smile crept across my face. I held your hand a little tighter. And I said yes. I would love that.
Maybe today or tomorrow? you asked.
Tomorrow, I replied. Quick! I thought to myself. Quick, before she doesn't want to be with you, close to you, happy to be doing what you're doing, together. Don't miss this chance!
Maybe our first real run together will be something you will always remember. Maybe it will be one of your favourite memories of the two of us together. Or maybe when I pick you up from school today you'll be too tired or you just won't feel like it. But this time, I won't insist that we get out there and enjoy ourselves whether we like it or not, because we have memories to make and a childhood to make special, dammit!
I am coming to realize that the memories make themselves. Every day, in the big and the small, the memories are being made no matter how many articles I read or hours I spend worrying about how to do it right. That moment between us yesterday was a very special one for me. I witnessed a memory being made. I felt it wriggle its way into a corner of my brain and take up residence. It felt warm.
I am also realizing that it doesn't matter to me if your memories include the coolest Hallowe'en costumes or the most original loot bags or the most elaborate vacations. I want you to remember me smiling, laughing, hugging a lot, and listening. I want to you to remember that I made you feel loved, capable, and important. And now that I've learned the secret to making memories - that my job is not to carefully select, package and insert each memory into your brain, but rather to show up and be the person I want you to remember - I find myself witnessing even more memories.
I remember holding you on my lap after dinner last night while we looked at houses on the computer with your dad. You looked through all of the pictures, searching for the perfect place in each house to set up an art table. Your bare legs were dangling over my arm, and I couldn't believe how little and how big they looked. I felt the warm weight of your back on my chest. I was so content.
I remember rubbing my cheek against yours as I carried you upstairs. We tried to decide whose cheek was softer. I thought yours. You thought mine. I think I've never felt a cheek so soft and warm and unbelievably kissable.
I remember how much I love our Uno games before bed, and how I love it when you win. I used to lose on purpose, but I worried that winning all of the time might make you a poor sport. So then I won a couple of times, and worried that you would lose your confidence and not want to play anymore. Now I just play. Because you're not going to remember how many times you won or lost. You're going to remember that you and mom and dad played hundreds of games of Uno before bed and there was a lot of laughter, a few tears, and an alarming amount of trash talk.
The moral of the story is the same as every moral since Elsa and Anna came on the scene: Let it Go. The memories are making themselves. Let them.
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