What makes a mother's heart melt

This happened a few months ago, but it revisited my memory just this morning. I thought it wise to capture it before it flitted away again.

I love to introduce my little ones to big words whenever possible and somehow or another the word "epitome" came up at dinner one evening. As I was tucking my darling daughter into bed that night, I was sharing with her the definition of the word and how it could be used. For example, I told her, you are the epitome of cuteness! She thought for a moment, and then responded to me,

Mommy, you are the epitome of beautifulness!

A compliment and proper word usage to boot! Be still my heart.

Road Trip Highlights

We completed our 12-hour road adventure from Austin to Pensacola Beach about 36 hours ago. Here are some of the highlights of our time on the road.

• Listening to "Junie B. Jones and a Little Monkey Business" book on CD. I surprised myself by laughing out loud more than once listening to this tale. I must admit - that girl is funny.


• Hearing snippets of the Animaniacs waft forward from the backseat. I think my favorite one was Yakko singing the countries of the world to the tune of the Mexican Hat Dance. Although I did also enjoy Pinky and the Brain (YYESS!) My laptop now serves as our portable DVD player on roadtrips. We have come a long way since we used to strap our combo TV/VCR into the front seat with tie-down straps and carted along a HUGE shoebox full of video tapes - yes, video tapes, those ancient relics from the 20th century).


• Annoying the children by asking numerous times who would like to learn the 50 states in alphabetical order. Shockingly, no takers.


• Quizzing my husband (and myself) on the state capitals. We managed to come up with nearly all 50, but got stuck on Illinois (I have no explanation for this - I am ashamed). For the life of me, I could not bring it to mind. (By the way, if you find yourself suddenly drawing a blank, the answer is Springfield.) I had to solicit a clue from my parents as soon as we arrived. I know every parent dreams of being greeted this way by their child who they see once or twice a year, "Hi, Mom & Dad, so good to see you, yeah, we missed you too - hey, don't tell me the answer - just give me a clue - what's the capital of Illinois?"


• Listening to my six year old sing the Books of the Bible song all by herself. Just try singing 'Hosea, Joel, Amos and Obadiah, Jonah, Micah, Nahum, Habakkuk, Zephaniah, and Haggai, Zechariah, Malachi' with one breath of air and see how you fare. It ain't easy.

Let's call these next two "memorable" moments:

• Stopping at a Radio Shack in Houston - the reason for this stop is one of those universal road trip experiences -- Picture children strapped into the idling van (where they have been for 15 minutes already because they are just so darned excited about riding in the car). Parent #1, "Honey, where is the thing for the thing?" Parent #2, "I don't know, where did you put the thing?" Parent #1, "I didn't use the thing last. It should be in the thing" etc. The 'thing' this time was a key component of our DVD sound system. We lost at least 15 minutes on the front end of our trip in the fruitless search for the component. The trip to Radio Shack was to simply purchase a new one. Titus, having already gone inside the store, returned to the car to discuss with me the new purchase price of said component (and where exactly are all of these 'deep discounts' I keep hearing about on the news?). In the midst of this debate about how important said component REALLY was for our trip it occurred to me to check the laptop bag - VIOLA! We saved $50 and lost at least 30 more minutes. But the real fun of this diversion was sitting in the car and hearing a loud "PULL OVER TO THE RIGHT" and watching 2 police cars pull some guy over in the space directly behind us and blocking us in with their cruisers. It was one of those moments when you just say, "Seriously? I mean ... seriously?" Thankfully, there were no firearms, nightsticks or violent take-downs involved and we were able to extricate our van without incident.
  
• Visiting a Wendy's somewhere in Mississippi late on Christmas eve, ordering our burgers, getting back into the car, opening our wrappers, realizing the order is wrong, going back into Wendy's, explaining the mix-up, receiving the corrected burger, getting back into the car, opening the corrected order, realizing, oh yeah, it's still wrong, going back into Wendy's, smiling politely while explaining, I'm very sorry for the trouble, but I ordered it withOUT cheese, listening to the manager dress down the staff in the background, quickly running back to the car, checking the burger and .... hooray! The upside - at least one of our burgers was hot ... sort of. This is why I pack our own food on trips.
  

Yesterday's Success

Yesterday I did something extraordinary. [cue deep breath of anticipation befitting the magnitude of the coming revelation]

I invited my daughter into the kitchen with me.

Not impressed? Truthfully, me neither, but you must understand who I am to appreciate the impressiveness of it. My sweet girl, on the eve of her seventh birthday, LOVES to get involved in the kitchen. Cooking, cleaning, baking, peeling eggs, cracking eggs, stirring eggs, mixing, pouring, measuring - you name it she wants to do it. I, however, not an enjoyer of activites in the kitchen (aside from baking delectable treats), prefer to get in, get it done, and get out. You must know, young helping hands do not tend to make the work go more quickly or neatly. So most of the time, her offers (okay, pleas) to join in are brushed aside. 'Mommy doesn't have time tonight. Next time, sweetie, I promise.'

Yesterday was a busy day for us. The kids are home from school and we are preparing for our 12 hour road adventure to Pensacola Beach. There was a pile of dishes needing to be handwashed (my husband keeps vowing to toss out any and all dishes, utensils, etc. that are not 'dishwasher safe'). Knowing the kids were a little restless from being cooped up inside all morning while mom planned and gathered and cleaned and laundered, I decided to ask my darling little one if she would mind so much helping Mommy with the dishes.

Oh, the joy on her little face! For dishes. It baffles me now, but I can recall a time long ago (there are pictures to prove it) when I myself gleefully donned those yellow rubber gloves and scrubbed the pots and pans for my mother. I remember I was wearing my brownie uniform and quite possibly had on hot pink pants underneath (there may also have been a beanie involved, anyone remember the beanies?). I digress, though - my lack of fashion sense at the tender age of 8 is another topic entirely. Back to yesterday - I enlisted Emma to be my official dish-dryer and she took to her task both seriously and with enthusiasm. I expected her interest to fade early on, when she realized, 'Hey ... wait a minute ... this is ... WORK!', but it did not wane and it was delightful.

I always try to catch myself in these small and fleeting moments of simple - oh so simple! - pleasure, and safely tuck it away to savor later. Too often I allow these times to slip by undetected and what a great pity it is to lose them! My success is that in the midst of yesterday's moment, I managed to stop; I gazed into her sweet face and breathed it in - knowing fully that this is my sustenance, my nourishment for the long journey ahead.

Thank you, Mr. Handler

In my previous post, I mentioned my recent rediscovery of the joy to be found becoming lost in the written word, and the revelations of oneself that can come through the words of another. I would like to trace for you how this discovery came about (bear with me - this may turn into a long and winding tale).

For those of you who may not know, Daniel Handler is the real name of the author of the Lemony Snicket books, A Series of Unfortunate Events. We found these books a couple of years ago on the advice of a friend (thank you, Karen). I began reading the books with my son (and eventually my daughter, not one to be left out of the fun), which we all thoroughly enjoyed. By the seventh book (of 13 in the series), my son was no longer content to be read to, and began reading them on his own (a wonderful and bittersweet milestone!). Since I was hooked on the story at that point, what ensued was a bit of a reading race - he never wanting me to get ahead of him in the story (but I couldn't resist! sneaking in chapters after he had gone to bed.)

One of the things I enjoy about the books is the way the author peppers the story with literary references that are largely lost on the typical child. One such reference in particular was also lost on me. The 6th installment, The Ersatz Elevator, (confession: when we started this one, I had to look up the word "ersatz") contains a character named Esme Squalor. WHOOSH (this is the sound the reference made as it zoomed over my head, but it was much quieter than my typing implies.)

Some months passed, and one day as I was working on the Sunday crossword, I came across a clue that included some reference to J.D. Salinger and the name 'Esme'. Hmmm. This little clue piqued my interest and so I did a little digging (BTW, I love the internet!) I quickly happened upon the title of a short story by J.D. Salinger -- "For Esme - with Love and Squalor". Intrigued to explore this story, I found it at my local library (love, love, love the public library!) and checked it out.

This is where the rediscovery began. I SO enjoyed snuggling into bed for the night, pillows propped, kids fast asleep, and reading until my eyelids grew heavy with sleep, allowing myself to be drawn into another realm simply by deciphering printed words on a page. Ahhhhh! Sublime. Okay ... perhaps I overstate the sentiment, but it was as if I were becoming reacquainted with a long-lost and dear friend, and what is more precious than that? And so, I owe you a thank-you, Mr. Handler, for your obscure literary references, spurring my reentry into the world of literature.

Now, if I can only find the time ...

Let's try this again

Well, it's been 5 months since my last blog entry. Sad, sad, sad. I endeavor to do better. In these past many months I have spent much time considering the blog - what to write and, more particularly, why to write. It is the 'why' that I have spent more time on than the 'what', and I think clarifying the 'why' will lead me where I want to go. What I have come up with is the following.

First of all, accountability. I am in need of some external means of accountability. As I muddle through the experience of being a mom, I find that I am more often than not taking the easy way out. When I find I am not living up to my own (impossibly high, I know) standards of mom-hood, I inwardly berate myself, conjure up (spectacular! inspired!) ideas for improvement (seldom implemented), and then quietly slip back into my day-to-day routine of just getting by. This is not the pattern I long for. So then, my thought is that my blog may serve as a means to record the good and the bad, the success and the failure, the ideas and inspiration that will provide the swift kick-in-the-butt I am sorely in need of. It will serve as a diary of sorts (albeit not a private one!) and a place to record the happy and precious little moments that make my life worthwhile and encourage me to go on. Accountability - to myself, to my kids, to my husband, and to anyone else who happens upon this space.

Secondly, I recently came to the realization that I have somewhat "let myself go" during these past 10 years of motherhood - in an intellectual sense, that is. I recently rediscovered the joy of reading for pleasure - the delight that comes from digesting another's well-crafted prose. I had forgotten how much I gained as a young person from this exercise of the mind and imagination and how much I need this food for the soul. My desire is to begin to exercise my intellect and challenge myself to write again. There is so much to say!

Thirdly, what a simple and wonderful way to record the special moments of our lives and to share them. The many, many experiences and events I may never get around to scrapbooking, I can type a quick blog, post a few cute pics and ta-da!, memories recorded!

And so, ... here I go. I have defined the why; I am eager to see if I can pull off the what.