There might be something more magical than leaving the college on Fridays, and walking up the street in the crisp fall air just in time to watch my girls file into the dance studio for Nutcracker rehearsal in their black leotards and pink tights. There might be. I just doubt it,
We are learning, he and I, that our preteen daughters need simple sentences and not lectures. Eye contact, not a stern voice. Heavy silence, not an earful. It’s difficult and it’s working.
It must work, because we don’t have anything else and these girls have got to make it to eighteen years of age one way or another.
Yesterday: Wow, Momma. Your hair. It’s beautiful… the grays are poppin’ out!
Today: When Momma dies, I call this ring. Put my name on it. Oooh, who has dibs on this one?
There will come a time when all three daughters and the husband will audition for the local Nutcracker, and they will make the cast and your heart will swell with pride to three times its normal size. That time has come.
Party dad, Mother Ginger dancer, Mother Ginger, and young Clara are coming to a dance stage in December. Everyone’s invited.
Raising a gaggle of pre-teen gals is quite the roller coaster.
It’s now Christopher’s turn to leave town, and I must figure out the logistics of work and school pick-up and meet-the-teacher and pickleball and and and. My favorite moment thus far: teaching my class at the community college and looking out the window to find that my children have successfully walked across town to meet me, which included a stop for coffee on the way and a chat with my friends, who texted me my kiddos’ status and whereabouts. I LOVE THIS TOWN.
I picked up the baby on my way through town, after driving home from the conference. The older kids are in youth group now, so Wednesday nights are just for us.
The sun had come out to play and we drove home with the sun roof open. I looked over and make a remark at how nice her hair looked. It’s been like this the whole time you were gone, she said. It’s from when you did it. I’ve just been sleeping on my back.
I laughed over the sound of the music and the wind rushing by. Oh, my love. I remember doing the same thing when I was your age and my mama went on a trip. It was yesterday and a lifetime ago, but I remember.