2012 in Review

Another Year Gone By

I hope your year was as full of love and family as ours.

Regret

I know a woman who spends a great deal of time torn up by things she regrets, and this keeps her from living a happy, peaceful life.  When I stop to think about it, I think a lot of people really wish they could have a handful of do-overs.

I've never been that kind of person.  I regret very, very few things in my life.  Yeah, I've screwed some things up along the way, and my life sure hasn't been perfect.  But I think that my mistakes and choices have made me who I am.   I've learned from all my experiences, and along the way have turned into a person I really like.  So if I could have a do-over, it wouldn't be spent on fixing any of my choices, or correcting any of my big mistakes.  But there IS something I did that I would take back if I could.

When I was in high school, I broke up with my best friend.  We were really close friends and had been for years.  She knew me in ways that my other friends didn't, and had always been good to me.  But as we were nearing the end of our freshman year, I had finally figured out that she wasn't really that cool in the eyes of the other people I wanted to like me. 

I didn't even discuss it with her.  I cowardly sent her a note in science class, and watched her face crumple, and then her eyes tear as she read my note ending our friendship. I wasn't gleeful. I didn't intend to be mean.  I just wanted out.  So I left her, and she was alone. 

She went on, living her life and eventually found other friends to spend time with.  But I think what I did damaged her.  Being a teenager in high school is painful enough without having your best friend dump you.  For a long, long time I'd catch her looking at me from across a room with this barely concealed hurt written on her face.

I guess compared to other stories, mine seems small.  It was a defining moment for me, though.   It was the first and only time I ever treated somebody meanly for shallow reasons.  

About this situation I am deeply ashamed, but I can't undo it.  I wish I could talk to the confused fifteen-year-old girl I once was,  and tell her all I've learned about what is important about friendship and life, but I can't.  I wish so much that I could go back and undo this cruel thing.  But I can't.

What I CAN do, is try to be a better person now.   Really, isn't that all anyone can do?

A Mother's Daughter

Of all the people who have influenced my life, changed my course in this or that direction, the one who has steered me and shaped me the most has been my mom.  Like all children, I am who my mother made me.  Everything I love about myself, I owe to my mom.

I love that I am a very creative person.  My mom encouraged the kind of play that ignites creativity.  We didn't have a lot of money for toys, but we had Playdoh, blocks, and sandboxes.  My mom gave me materials for every kind of craft project, and she taught me how to sew when I was just a little girl.  I learned to make my own doll clothing, and later to alter my own clothes and design costumes for my kids.  I learned to see the potential in a bed-sheet, an old pair of jeans, a second-hand sweater.  I can make anything I dream up. 

I love that I am my own handy-woman.  My mom taught me to fix things.  I can put things together, and I "see" how things work.  My mom taught me to build and design.  I spent my childhood doing things like designing furniture for my dollhouse.  She taught me how to use an exact-o knife, a drill, a level, and a saw.  She made me comfortable with taking things apart, redesigning, and fixing what's broken.

I love being a book lover, journal writer, and dreamer.  My mom instilled in me a love of books, nourished from the time I was a baby.  There were times in my life growing up when we didn't have much.  But I always, always had books.  Books were my friends, my comfort.  I traveled the world in books.  I learned to walk in the shoes of others.  I learned to see through the eyes of others.  I became a life-long reader and writer, and I've passed that on to all of my own children. 

I love that I am satisfied and happy with myself and my life.  My mom always made the best of things, and by her example I learned to be content.  As a child, I didn't get everything I wanted.  I had to learn to sacrifice, compromise, make choices, and settle.  So now as an adult, I am not always wishing for the next best thing.  I love what I already have.  I have learned as an adult that contentment is a rare gift.

I love being a mom.  My mom taught me to balance the domesticity of raising young children. She taught me to cook, bake, and clean.  I learned to involve my children in the daily life of cooking, baking, and cleaning but still take time to read, sing, and play with them.  I learned what's important about family.  My mom made sure that my sisters and I grew up to be friends.  We are close because she raised us to share, help each other, and rely on each other.  Most of all, my mom taught me that even if you have a large family, each child is different and special, and that there really is enough love and attention to go around.

I wonder if my mom knows how much I appreciate all she did to raise me.  I don't think she sees the connections between my childhood and who I am now, at least not the way I do.  I wonder if she worries about all she was not able to do, and feels she let me down.

I think that every mother carries around her own secrets and regrets, but mostly they are small compared to all she did that was wonderful.  I have my regrets too.  I can only hope that when they are grown, my children will love me for all that I did right, the way that I love my mom.

Time Machine Dreams

At dinner last night Craig was talking about what Jaden was like as a baby, and we were both feeling slightly nostalgic about her baby days. I started thinking how nice it would be to go back in time to visit her for a day. Just to lift her baby weight in my arms and rub my cheek against hers. To take a bubble bath with her, and cradle her in my arms.

Then I stared thinking about all the days in my life I'd love to revisit. NOT to re-do, because I'm not about that. I'm very much a person who believes that every experience I've had or choice I've made have all led me here, to this one place. And I like where I am. So, if I had a Time Machine, here are some periods of my life I'd like to live again, exactly as they were.

I want to go back and relive the day when I was in first grade and my dad came home with a new two-wheeler bike and taught me to ride without training wheels. I can still hear my dog Scuffy's yip-yapping as she tried to keep up with me zooming up and down the gravel roads when I finally got the hang of it.

I would like to relive that snowy Winter in Oregon when I was a little girl. My family seemed so happy. My sisters and I had snowball fights in our front yard and made snow angels. On days too cold to go out, I'd read my Little House on the Prairie books, and my mom would let me help her with the baking. I will always remember smell of her bread as it came out of the oven, but I'd love to go back in time and eat some more.

I want to hang with my teen-aged sisters for awhile. We could fight over beauty products and try on each other's clothes, and gang up against our mom. We could tell secrets and laugh together, or go find some harmless trouble to get into.

I wish I could hold Kharli as a baby again, and hear the sound of her baby voice cooing and babbling. I want to see her blond ringlets curl around my fingers as I brush them. I want to pick her up and lift her high above my head and see her smile down at me.

I want to visit Christian when he was 4, and make some mud potions in the back yard. I'd ruffle his hair and cuddle him and talk to him about dinosaurs or Merlin or Legos. We could read before bed and I'd sing, "My Darling Child" as he fell asleep in the bottom bunk.

I'd like to go back and see one of Kharli's dance recitals. The year of "Austin Powers" and "Once Upon a December" was a pretty good one. It would be fun to do her make-up and ballet bun, and smile anxiously with the other dance moms as the girls run through their dress rehearsal.

I'd like to go back to the weekend I took Kharli and Christian camping with my family on the North Rim. I want to feel those rocks under my sleeping bag, and eat Christian's charred marshmallows, and help Kharli bait her fishing hook. I want to smell the woodsmoke from our campfire as I watch them laugh and play with their cousins.

It would be awesome to relive the day we went snorkeling in the coral reef off the coast of Key West in Florida. I remember how it felt to nervously let the kids swim away from me and know they could use their gear alone. I remember how the aqua-blue waves rolled us up and down as we held hands and smiled around our snorkels, squinting at the sun.

I'd like to walk across my college campus and buy a cup of coffee, and make chit-chat with people. I'd wander through the flower borders and hide-out from passing professors. I could feel again the hope and idealism that all college students feel as they cross the divide and begin their new journeys.

I'd like to go back to when Craig and I were first dating. Our early dates were fantastic as first dates go, and then I'd get to kiss him again for the first time. We could hold hands and ask "what if" and dream about possibilities. I'm still not quite sure what I did to get him to fall in love with me, but it would be so much fun to go back and do it all over again!

As I consider my running list, I notice that the Big Days aren't jumping out at me. You know, graduations, and weddings and babies being born and all that. Those are truly wonderful memories. The best. But my wishful thinking always goes back to those random days...the little details that held so much joy for me. I realize they are mostly about family. Nothing about money or owning things, or collecting possessions. It makes me even more determined to be happy with who I am and where I am...content at the center of my own private universe.

Although, as far as possessions go...a time machine for my birthday would be rather nice!

Ties That Bind

I know people think I'm either crazy (or just unlucky with birth control) because I have two babies a year apart. But I LOVE the fact that my littlest girls are growing up so close in age. I've always said there's something about the relationship between sisters that is unlike anything else.

I grew up with 3 of them, you know. There was always someone to laugh with, to fight with, to boss around, to scheme with. There was always someone to listen to my deepest secrets. She probably told all my OTHER sisters, but I knew I could trust them too.

You can count on a sister. She will stand behind you or in front of you, whichever needed. She will lie, cheat or steal for you. She'll fight your battles. No matter how old you are, your sister will hold your hand and help you across the road. And she won't ever let go of your hand because sisterhood is a tie that binds.

I think one of the things that made my sisters and I closer growing up is that, because there were so many of us, sharing bedrooms was kind of a necessity. We usually slept in the same bed too. Yes, we fought like spitting cats. YES, they sometimes drove me bug-shit. They were in my stuff all the time. All. The. Time! It sometimes got ugly and usually got messy. But, you know... life can often be ugly and messy. We learned to rise above it and cooperate and compromise, and just plain get along.

I'm a big believer in sisters sharing a bedroom. Even when they're older, even when there are more rooms in the house. There's just something about living that closely with another person that makes you feel connected. For better or worse. You don't see much of that anymore, though. Even babies and toddlers seem to have their own rooms nowadays. I find that very sad, to have such a lonely existence.

So Jaden and Caitlyn share a room. It's a tight squeeze, true. And we have to live with the fact that they usually wake each other up. I have been woken up many mornings by baby giggles and screams...Caitlyn bouncing up and down in the crib, and Jaden tossing her random toys and other objects. One morning I heard Caitlyn crying very early, and when I got to their room, I found Jaden halfway over the side of the crib, rubbing the top of Catie's head and telling her, "You okay, Honey. You okay." That really stuck with me. It makes me imagine how they will be together growing up. I imagine them years from now, Caitlyn crying over boy troubles while Jaden hugs her and tells her it will be okay, Honey.

Putting them to bed together can be tricky, so we will often lay Caitlyn down in the Pack and Play in our bedroom, and move her to the crib after both girls are asleep. I have heard them talking through the shared wall before drifting off, though. Last night I found them in mirror positions, Catie in our room and Jaden in her bed. They were each sleeping facing the wall, with an arm resting against it in the exact same spot. If there was no wall, they'd have been holding hands.

Was it a coincidence? Or was it more? My heart would like to believe that it's sister love. I think Catie was fussing, and Jaden was whispering through the wall..."It's okay, Honey. You okay."

The Nursery Set

Fisher Price Little People. Does this take you back or what? When I came across the vintage Little People toys on ebay I had trouble containing myself. I was browsing for several minutes before I realized I was actually crying AND talking to myself. It was the slam of memories flooding my head and heart that took me by surprise. There they were...the Tudor house, the nursery school, the barn with silo! Cows, dogs, planes and tricycles. Lounge chairs, gas pumps, school bus. Here were all these treasures of my childhood. I see them and remember clothing I wore, the color of our carpet, the smells of my mom's cooking. I hear my sisters' chitter chatter. Isn't it amazing how the sight of a little plastic baby sitting in her stroller opened the door to dreams and adventures I haven't thought of in 30 years?

So, I bought this set to put in Jaden's Christmas stocking this year. I know she's too little to really play with them. I know she may end up leaving them at the bottom of her toybox. I guess what I am really doing is giving her another piece of my heart. And who wouldn't want that for Christmas?