Posts Tagged With: Thing 1

squirrel study

Outside the window in our back living room there is a tree. This tree is an extremely popular hang out for squirrels.
2-20170205_3

Now I know most people don’t like squirrels. Honestly, that makes me kind of sad because I just love squirrels. They’re kind of adorable and they do the funniest things!

I love to watch them in this tree, sometimes there is more than one. They chase and play and race up and down and over the branches. On this particular day there was only one, and mostly he (she?) was having a bath.
2-20170205_2

Once he was clean, he began to consider how he might explore his environment.
2-20170205_4
I love how his little hand is holding onto that teeny branch.

Then it got interesting when he did a series of somersault-like things around the branch.
2-20170205_7
He did it a couple of times in a row before he went back to bathing.
2-20170205_9
What a funny little guy!

When Thing 1 and Thing 2 were little girls, we had a squirrel that loved to hang out on our back porch out by the pool. They realized their father put treats out for the squirrel so they named him “Little Buddy” because he was Daddy’s little squirrel buddy. Soon, Little Buddy began to bring around a friend. They named him “Fatso” because he was a really big squirrel. When we moved to SC, Thing 2 was rather serious about bringing Little Buddy and Fatso with us. She was concerned the new people who were going to live in our house might not take good care of them and they would be sad and miss us. She also pronounced the word squirtle instead of squirrel. I still say squirtle when I see or talk about squirrels.

Advertisements
Categories: me | Tags: , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Santa bring my baby back to me.

I don’t think about it any more than I have to.
I’ve only written about it once.
I heard a song today that made it all come crashing back.

I realize I have only flashes. Only moments. I have no full memories of that time.
I remember Thing 1 begging for help.
I remember being in the ER at Richland.
I remember going to Palmetto Baptist and being separated from her.
I remember saying goodbye and leaving her there. I held her close and told her how brave she was.
I remember falling to my knees in tears on Taylor Street before I could even make it to my car.
I remember explaining to Thing 2 where her sister was.
I remember leaving work early every day to be home in time for Thing 2 to get off the bus so she wouldn’t come home to an empty house.
I remember how painful it was to visit the hospital or talk with Thing 1 on the phone.
I remember singing ‘All I Want for Christmas is You’ with Thing 2. So hopeful she’d be well enough to come home to us for Christmas.
I remember ‘Santa Bring My Baby Back to Me’ having an entirely new meaning that Christmas.

The pain of that time was excruciating. The healing process even more so.
I don’t intentionally ignore the fact of it. I just don’t choose to get up to my ass in it. Sometimes it sneaks up on me and I don’t have a choice but to feel it. Today was one of those days.
Leaving my suicidal first born in the mental health hospital was one of the absolute worst experiences for my family.
All I wanted for Christmas was my child to come home. And she did. And it was awful.
We lived through it.
We came out the other side irrevocably changed.

When I heard the My Chemical Romance version of All I Want for Christmas is You this afternoon, I was up to my ass in what it felt like that Christmas six years ago.

As I write this, I am filled with love. The love of a mother who nearly lost not just one, but both of her babies. That love is precious. That love is sacred. Those girls are my heart. And that means I have all I want for Christmas.

Categories: love, on being a mom | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

teeny little significant things

It’s the little things. The teeny little seemingly insignificant things.
These little things make the biggest impact.
I got a teeny little thing with huge impact this morning in the form of a text message from YBW.
I’m not going to tell you what it said, because, well…I don’t want to. And that’s not really what’s important. What’s important is the act of writing and sending the text.

Each of us gets caught up in our own “stuff”. Makes it tricky to remain aware of what’s going outside our own heads. I had a long talk with my friend and mentor the other day. It was lovely. But it took so much of my energy. I’ve been trying to have an important conversation with Thing 1 for well over a week now. I honestly haven’t had the emotional energy. Haven’t seen Sundance or even talked to her for a while. Haven’t even been doing simple hashtag communications with my sister in law.
I’ve been to much in my head. I’m working on slowly shifting my focus outward. It’s hard and I feel lazy…but I’m working at it.
That sweet message from my husband this morning furthered my effort and helped me see he’s working at the same thing.

Tomorrow is September 1. The start of ‘meteorological fall’.
Now, most people see fall as the dying time. I see it as a time of starting new. Perhaps that’s residual from all those years of new children in the classroom in the fall? I don’t know…
But I’m looking at fall as a time to start everything new. New attitude with old projects. New projects with excitement.
Perhaps the wretched hot and humid weather will decide to become new and bring cool crisp air for me to breath. And temperatures that don’t cause you to break out in a sweat the moment you walk outdoors.
But I’m not expecting that until October…Indian Summer is the way of early fall in the Metro area. I know this. I’m just feeling hopeful!
Hope springs new for this little red haired girl in the Autumn.
I’m ready to do the hard work.
This used to be my “catchphrase”…it’s been a long time since I felt like using it…but to life in general, I say a great big, “BRING IT!”
(Until I wake up tomorrow in a foul mood…then I’ll be back to my grouchy self and have to start all over again.)
oscar
Sometimes, Oscar is my spirit muppet.

Categories: me | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Wait a minute! I’m a grown up?

I believe I’ve remarked before about how I sometimes don’t feel like a real adult…it could be that I haven’t written about it, but I know I’ve talked about it in day to day life.
Sure, I did do grown up things. Sure I had adult responsibilities, but I never really felt like a grown up. Not exactly “fake it till you make it”, more like “feelings follow actions”. So I acted like a grown up to the best of my ability.

The first time I officially felt like an adult was when Thing 2 was moved to the NICU. Sure I was already a mom, but I was a young mom and I was still growing up while I was being Thing 1’s mom.
The second time I felt like a proper adult was when I took my suicidal first born to the hospital. Leaving her there in on the adolescent mental health floor of the hospital was the hardest thing I’d ever done.

So far, both times I’ve considered myself a real adult involved leaving my babies in a hospital and going home without them.
Other things happen in life that make you feel like a real adult. Finding your first “real” full time job. Divorce comes to mind.
When my mother died, I didn’t have that feeling of being an adult. I think it was because I was experiencing shock and disbelief. I’ve since wondered if it’s because I was never treated like a grown up in my relationship with her.
The day my father died, I never felt more like a child but I’d never behaved more like an adult. Isn’t it curious how that works?

You know you’re an adult when people you know, respect, and love need important things from you. Help with children, support after a death in the family. A strong sounding board for the tough questions.
I was an adult when I stood in church surrounded by all the people I love most and pledged my life to YBW.
I was a grown up for my friend and mentor when her beloved died. And that realization just hit me.
Today, I did a real adult kind of thing when I had to write a recommendation letter for my friend in Arizona’s application to graduate school.

So it’s occurring to me the more I write this post that I really must be an adult.
It feels normal and natural, like the most comfortable article of clothing I own.
But I don’t always want to wear that, you know? Sometimes I want to wear impractical clothing…oftentimes in the form of shoes.
It feels like I’m still figuring out how to be a proper adult. It also feels like I’m still figuring out how to be me as an adult.
But the jokes on me, right?
I’m an adult.
And I don’t suck at it.
I guess I never realized that.
Perhaps I didn’t want to?
I’m not sure how I feel about this. And I guess that’s OK too. I can wear my grown up clothes, but put on my impractical non-adult shoes every now and then when I need to.

Categories: me | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

mother’s day

I struggle with Mother’s Day.
My birthday is always the week of Mother’s Day. Sometimes even falls on that particular Sunday. I don’t remember it bothering me until I became a mom. First one precious little girl and later, two precious little girls called me their mommy. They were SO focused and excited about Mother’s Day that my birthday often fell by the wayside.
When they got old enough to understand, I explained how much I loved their beautiful appreciation of me. I explained that I was their mommy every day. That it was the most special thing EVERY DAY. But that my birthday was only one day and it was special. It took a bit for them to get it, but they knew how important I made their birthdays and they began to come around. So while Mother’s Day remained special, “birthday birthday” became the focus that second week of May.

Mother’s Day is painful for me because I don’t have my mom anymore. However complicated our relationship was, she was my mother and I loved her.
I took Thing C and Thing G to get cards for their mom. I went with YBW to get a card for his mom. I spent the day with YBW and his mom.
It was agony.
I no longer have a mom. It hurts more than I can even communicate.
Thing 1 called to tell me Happy Mother’s Day. She thanked me for being her mom. She talked about the life she’s building. She talked about going back to school. She told me she sent a little gift, but it was going to be late. She told me how much she loved me.
My heart sang with joy!
Thing 2 did nothing. (I don’t know if she was being purposefully hurtful or not…I honestly don’t think it matters. It was hurtful enough.) People that I did not actually give birth to called and texted to wish me Happy Mother’s Day. I’m just sayin’.

When my girls were little and I was teaching preschool, I was blessed to be surrounded by some of the most truly awe inspiring women I’ve ever known.
We were a family. If something happened to one of us, joy or sorrow, it happened to all of us. These women helped me realize who I could be. They let me help them see things from my unique and sometimes brash perspective. (I may or may not have publicly accused the director of being on crack at a faculty meeting…in my defense, it opened a new way of talking about a serious topic.)

When I started this blog I promised my family and friends anonymity. That’s why I never use anyone’s real name…apart from my own. My girls and Sundance have expressed their ambivalence regarding this promise. I keep it because YBW is especially protective of his identity, and the identity of his sons. I respect that. Nobody “signed up” to be part of my public words regarding my private life. I want to keep those who need to feel safe feeling safe.
That said, I’m going to use the names of the women from that perfect moment in time when we lived and loved and worked in the safest and most creative environment.

It kind of started this way:
On Sunday, Nicole posted in our private group chat:
HAPPY MOTHERS DAY!!! I would not have survived young motherhood without you all!!

I was thinking something along those lines when I was washing my hair that morning. I was thinking about some of the women that influenced my life. What I learned from each of them and how I incorporated that into my parenting style, and into my own personal development.

I learned from my mom that always having to be in control will wear you the eff out. That it breaks you and makes you miserable. My mom taught me the value of creativity and expressing opinions because she squashed those out of us as children. She taught me that love is conditional, you must be exactly what someone wants or they can’t love you.
She taught me that you just have to keep fighting for what you believe in. She taught me what true sacrifice looks like. She taught me that a color book and box of crayons eases heartache. She taught me that birthdays are the most important celebration, because the day you came into the world is sacred. She taught me to love books. She taught me Elvis is the King. She taught me that being redhaird is the most precious gift, and that only a few of us ever have the luxury to receive it.
Some of the things she taught me made me a better mom because I did the exact opposite of what she did. Love is unconditional. Creativity and expressing yourself are the most important life stills to possess.
Some of what she taught me formed my most basic ideology. Birthdays are sacred. New crayons are priceless. Books are uniquely portable magic.

Nicole taught me that organized chaos is a great way to raise children. She taught me that love is fierce. She showed me how to see things through the eyes of a child. She taught me the value of true and long lasting friendship.

Jessica taught me that I was more capable than I ever realized. She taught me to listen differently so I could truly hear. She taught me to ask the most important question: What’s best for children? She taught me the value of my own mothering. She taught me when life hands you lemons, make lemonade. She helped me believe in myself at the lowest point in my life. She showed me the fire in my belly still had embers to nurture. She loved me when I couldn’t love myself.

Becca encouraged me to trust my gut, because she never seemed to be able to do that for herself. She taught me to appreciate every contribution. She brought out even more nurturing in me, she needed and still occasionally needs to be taught self-love. She taught me how innocent kindness can change lives. She taught me that my tough as nails hide could benefit from softening up a bit.

Terri taught me to see my firstborn in a new and different light. She provided much comfort and support when I was struggling with learning how to mom a three year old and a new and extremely sick baby. She was an example of love and tenacity through her own terrible illness. She taught me how to approach the enigma that is the three year old with the perfect mix of fear and appreciation.

Nancy taught me that I must embrace and celebrate my gifts. She is the first person who said out loud that I am a writer. That moment caused a change in my life that I will be forever grateful for. She supported me with love and hope when I didn’t know who or what I really was. She taught me that life is so much more than simply putting one foot in front of the other.

Marianne taught me that letting go is so much better than holding on too tightly. She taught me the importance of repetition. She helped me realize that a classroom was one of the most loving environments in the world.

Cory taught me that I matter. She helped me understand how to be a mom and a real person too. She accepted me for who I am. She guided my learning of that most important skill. I’m not great at it, but I am working at it every single day…even all these years later.

Julia encouraged me to take risks. She helped me realize that fear is a part of life, but if I didn’t try new things I might miss out on something extraordinary. She taught me a new kind of patience.

Sara gave me the courage to breathe when I needed to take a step back. She showed me the importance of kindness when Thing 2 and I experienced serious separation anxiety.

Like Nicole, I would never have gotten through young motherhood without these women. The gifts they gave me have gotten me through the last twenty two years.
It takes a village to raise children.
It takes a village to raise parents too.

I’m so blessed to know and love these women. I would not be the woman I am without experiencing their love and support.
I saw Becca this weekend, we talked about how those years were a sacred moment in time. We will never be able to recreate that, but we’re lucky enough to forever be better mothers and better women because of it.

Categories: education, love, me, on being a mom | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

an April wedding

Thing 1 and fiance N are getting married in April!
Not a ‘white dress, let’s have a big party’ wedding. An ‘at the courthouse with only our family’ wedding.

N is in a (well, several) program(s) for veterans. They’re paying to send him back to school (for an IT degree). They also pay him what I guess equates to a “salary” while he’s in school so he doesn’t have to work full time and got to school full time. (I’m not up on all the specifics.)
Anyway.
Fiance N and Thing 1 can receive more benefits if they’re married than if he’s single. So they spent a fairly decent amount of time talking about what they wanted to do and decided they’re going to get married at the courthouse now and they’ll have their wedding and reception on their first or second anniversary.

When Thing 1 called to tell me all this I suspect she was waiting for some “Mommmy backlash”. on the contrary, I think they’re making very smart choices for their future. It makes sense to utilize the benefits to the best of their ability. It makes sense to wait to have a more formal wedding and reception.
I fully support this choice. It took me a long time to be able to say that, because there was a long time that I simply wasn’t “feeling” N for my girl. I had big worries.
But after spending time with them before our wedding and at Christmas time, I got to see how they function as a couple. I got to hear their ideas for their future. I got to hear their dreams of the life they wanted to share.
It wasn’t that I finally got to know him better, but I got to know them better. I think they’re on the same page about what they want. What their hopes and dreams for a life together are.

I still have my concerns about her age. The fact he’s the first person she’s ever had sex with. Their age difference.
But I see past most of that and realize they’re doing what’s best for them right now. And I absolutely support that!

YBW and I are getting on a plane.
Her dad and Thing 2 are driving down.
N’s mom is driving down.
So their family with be with them when they get married.

Even though there’s not white dress (yet), I made sure Thing 1 does have a something new to wear.
2408378.jpg
We talked about how it didn’t have to be white if she didn’t want it to be and this is what she chose. It’s so very Thing 1! It’s a gorgeous silver and she’s mad about it.
I’ll be sending a bouquet of purple iris (her all-time favorite flower) for her to carry from this amazing site, The Bouqs Co.. Sundance hooked me up with it (after she had the idea Thing 1 needed flowers) that’s a great Auntie and Godmother right there, ya’ll!

My child, who has never really been at home in her own skin, is finally content.
The Mommy inside me is doing the happiest happy dance!

Categories: love, on being a mom, wedding | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

inexhaustible love

I wrote about a precious young man I love in loving yourself.
I found out this week that he has testicular cancer.
He is twenty-one years old.
He’s had the tumor and one testicle removed but the cancer spread to one (and only one) of his lymph nodes near his right kidney.
He will start chemotherapy on Monday.

When his mom told me she asked that I not tell the girls, that he would want to do that in his own time. Today she asked me to share the news with them, he mustn’t have wanted to go over it again and again.

Thing 1, who calls him her brother, took the news better than I could have hoped. I expected her to fall apart. She didn’t. She held it together, asked intelligent questions, expressed her love for him, his family and for me. I apologized for being the bearer of bad news. She told me she was glad it was me, that I always give it to her straight, answer all her questions, and do it all with so much love.
I sent her a text a couple hours later to see how she was holding up. She already spoke with his boyfriend and was actually talking with him at the time.
She has enough stubborn love to keep him healthy by sheer force of her will.

Thing 2 listened and was uncharacteristically quiet. She asked about his siblings and boyfriend. We talked about him losing his beautiful hair but she decided he’s going to rock the bald! Then she joked about medical marijuana. She chastised herself for cracking wise. But in our family, we laugh at all things, good and bad. It’s a way to keep everything in perspective.
I told her the high percentage rate of curability and that I honestly believed he would be cancer free after his chemo. She was relieved, explaining that she was using my belief as her barometer of concern. She told me she’s learned that I know exactly how much to worry or be hopeful about every situation and that she always takes her cue from me.
However much she thinks she ‘hates people’, she’s one of the most positive human beings and he will be basking in everything she can send to him.

My heart aches for my dear, dear friend and her husband. The fear they must be experiencing. She’s so brave. She loves her kids with such ferocity. But this isn’t something she can sort. She has to wait while God and modern medicine sort it.
Being a parent is simultaneously the most wonderful and horrifically difficult experience. This is one of those times difficult takes center stage. But wonderful waits in the wings in the form of family and friends lifting each other up with love and light.

My love for this young man is inexhaustible.
I know love doesn’t really conquer all. But in this case, I’m going to believe that tremendous amounts of love and a little bit of chemo will kick cancer’s ass!

Categories: love | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

cocoon thoughts

Yesterday was adventurous.
I woke with a headache I couldn’t shake and a great deal of nausea. Had the indescribable “joy” of a blow out (tire not hair) on the way to babysit for a family I absolutely adore. (I look after them on Mondays. It’s my new favorite thing.)
Even though I was struggling, it turns out we had a good day. I was actually able to read one book. (Normally we read every bit of ten or more books.) I sat outside in the warm sun while they played. I even drew a chalk picture in the driveway. We did watch more television than we normally do, but that made it easier for me. Sometimes that’s just what’s up.

I came home and ate a bit of dinner, but even that didn’t really help my head so I got in the tubby. YBW was going to bed when I got out. I knew I wouldn’t sleep properly so I went downstairs to “Thing 2’s room” to lie slap in the middle of my old bed.

I had enough fioricet in me to ease the discomfort long enough to fall asleep but I was awake at three. Not ‘wide awake and bushy tailed’, but awake enough that pretty much every indiscriminate thought I ever had showed up for consideration.
A selective sample:
Oh, I love being in the middle of this bed! I didn’t realize how much I miss sleeping in my cocoon.

Wow! Thing 1 will be twenty two tomorrow, the same age I was when she was born.

Wonder if Sundance is awake right now.

Why doesn’t bacon cook itself? Bacon must have been the food of the Gods. They ate bacon and drank diet Dr Pepper up there on Mt Olympus for sure.

I wish Thing 2 was here.

Who put the ‘glad’ in gladiator? (this immediately lead to) Let’s go see N’s family. (my friends in AZ)

Why does it smell like Grandaddy’s house in here?

Man, VBCC used to be fun. Gotta call (my friend and mentor) J back.

Sweet Jesus! What if Donald Trump becomes our president? Wonder how hard it would be to emigrate to Canada? The U.K. would be better but across the ocean is too far away from the kids. Thing 2 wants to move to Canada anyway.

Wish we had some cereal in the house, I’m hungry.

Lunch with Little D and his daddy today.

Perhaps I should go upstairs and get in bed with YBW.

Why did Buffy love Angel so much? Take your tormented soul elsewhere, you whiny, mopey complainer.

This thought process went on for a little while before I finally rolled over and thought: Ugh! Just go back to sleep, you ridiculous girl!
And I did.

This morning I realized it smells like Grandaddy’s house in that room because there are still things in the closet that came from his house but I didn’t realize that in the middle of the night.
I also realized it reminded me of that Alanis song, These R the Thoughts.
Guess we all have them.

Categories: me | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

soulmates

Thing 2 and I were trading Arrested Development quips back and forth via text. In response to what I’d just sent her she wrote: I do that ALL the time and nobody gets it :/
I wrote: You and I need to run away together and never look back.
Thing 2: Awh, Momma! ❤
Me: It might be crazy, but sometimes I think you’re the only person that really understands me.
Thing 2: Aww..Momma ❤ I love you
(then stuff that was precious but isn’t exactly relevant)
Thing 2: I wish I could be your mom more.

I find it ridiculously comforting that my child wants to be my mother. She is a great nurturer. She will be a mom who finds joy in her kids. She will be a foul-mouthed mom that reminds her kids “don’t say that word outside of this house or car”.
I remember being loved by my mother, but not really nurtured by her. Thing 2 is a much better nurturer than Mommie was. I would love for her to be my mom. Can we really be each other’s mom?

I honestly wonder if Thing 2 is my soulmate.

I’ve always maintained that Sundance is my soulmate. We have always said we are two halves of one. I don’t believe that has changed.
But I’m beginning to wonder if I didn’t somehow create my own soulmate. Literally give birth to her. I suspect Sundance and Girlie Thing might be soulmates too. And though Sundance and I are still two halves of one, perhaps we created the souls we are meant to attach ourselves to.

I don’t know. I may be completely off base. Is it strange to think you create your soulmate? It doesn’t’ seem strange to me. It seems perfectly natural.
Though I might not be the best barometer for what is or is not strange.

I believe people are in our lives for a specific reason. We may never know what that reason actually is. I believe we build relationships to help us find what our soul may be lacking. Sometimes it’s simple things that can be gathered easily and the relationship goes as quickly as it began. Sometimes it takes much longer to share souls.

A long time ago, I read an interesting concept of soulmates. It went something like this: Your soulmate isn’t that person who completes you, that you’re meant to be with above all others. Your soulmate is that one who jumpstarts you and shakes you to your core so that you can open up and receive more. You’re not meant to be with that person forever because it would be exhausting.
(I can’t for the life of me remember where I read this.)

I’m not sure I agree with this concept of soulmate. It sounds more like a way to feel better about failed relationships.
I don’t think soulmates have to be your significant other.

I love YBW differently than I’ve ever loved any man in my life. I accept his love differently than any other man in my life. But I don’t believe he is my soulmate. I believe we came together when we were supposed to. I believe that he is the man with whom I am supposed to be.
Believing (and saying) he isn’t my soulmate does not in any way diminish our relationship. Actually, I feel that not believing it makes our relationship even better. We are making a choice to be together.
I digress…

Soulmate. Is there just one? Can Sundance and I be two halves of one and Thing 2 be my soulmate? Do we create our own soulmate? Is it just that Thing 2 and I so alike? Is simply our closeness?
That girl is a part of me. Maybe that’s not a soulmate. Maybe that is simply our bond.

That said, I don’t feel the same way about Thing 1. I love her. She is the human personification of every hope and dream I ever had. But I don’t feel that natural closeness. Even when she was a little girl, we loved, but we were not “on the same page”.
Sundance is the same way with Boy Thing. She loves him. But they’re not connected the way she and Girlie Thing are. It’s easy to say it’s because he’s a boy. But I don’t think that’s why.

Aristophanes tells of humans as having four legs and arms and two heads. He tells that Zeus was concerned that because of their strength, they might rise up against the Gods. So he cuts them in half to weaken them. What he doesn’t count on is their instinctive desire to reunite with the half that was taken from them.
Is that just our lot in human life?
I find it curious. Mostly I find it sad. Doomed to wander, forever searching for your missing half? No wonder we sometimes make crap relationship choices.

I feel like souls are somehow drawn to each other. Not out of desperation, but out of desire to share and experience. I believe souls teach and learn together.
I believe souls connect because they were meant to.

Whether or not my second born is my soulmate doesn’t really matter. What matters is that our souls know each other. That they live and learn and love together.
We are blessed to share and experience without the confines of labels.

Categories: me | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

goodbye, Why Not?

20160108_104409.jpg

Sundance texted me Tuesday evening: I’m going into mourning. Why Not? is closing.
My response: Oh NO! Saddest face.
Sundance: I just saw it on the news! We need to go check it out.
Me: I’m wide open Friday. Can you go then?
Sundance: I believe so.
Me: Sold!
Sundance: Boo yah!

So I picked her up this morning and we headed into Old Town Alexandria.
20160108_104142.jpg

Why Not? Is a toy store on the corner of King and Lee Streets that we have been shopping at for more than twenty years.
I can’t tell you how many times we’ve taken any number of our four kids into the store to climb the steep and narrow stairs to the all important Groovy Girls/Playmobil/book section.
Thing 2 and Girlie Thing had so many pairs of adorably patterned tights from Why Not?
We’ve bought more books from Why Not? than from Amazon in the last twenty years.

Why Not? has been there on the corner for more than 50 years!
20160108_114442.jpg

It is heart breaking to know that an independent toy shop just can’t keep up in the day and age of Amazon and Target, etc. Not to mention, it’s probably time for the owner to retire.

I am filled with sadness this afternoon. But I am also flooded with the happiest memories of being in that shop with my girls. Of sneaking down to Old Town when the girls were at school to do a little Christmas or Birthday shopping. Of piling into the car to see the windows decorated for the holidays.

Sundance has been coveting this little dolly for almost two years. It’s made in France and she saw it for over $100.00 at another toy shop. It was $74.00 at Why Not? and everything in the store was 30% off.
20160108_113744.jpg
That little brown haired dolly had a red haired sister!
20160108_113624.jpg
We decided we needed them desperately…but not enough to actually buy them. Our grown-up brains overrode our dolly needing little girl brains.
‘It was just Christmas. I don’t have a job. Blah blah blah.’
We discussed how my Mommie would have convinced us there is always money for a new dolly. Made us miss her. Sundance talked to her mom after I dropped her off at home, she told her we should have bought the dollies. So much for us being grown-ups.

I did purchase a children’s book.
20160108_152027.jpg
It’s about girl power, I absolutely couldn’t pass it up!

Sundance bought two little teeny angel dollies. One for me and one for her.
20160108_151955.jpg
I LOOOOOOOVE her!

My sadness runs deeper than I expected. It feels like a part of all the Things childhood has died. Luckily, they’re big kids now. They have happy memories, and hopefully no sadness.
How lucky are we that Why Not? was in our lives for so long!?!

Categories: love, me, on being a mom | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

Waking up on the Wrong Side of 50

Navigating the second half of my life

Sawblades In Your Walkman

I'm the rain on your parade

The Blonde at the Film

a fresh look at old films

Must Be This Tall To Ride

I'm a single dad documenting his journey. A guy trying to walk a higher path. And messing up. A lot.

Staying Southern

A guide to living a Southern life outside the South

rhondastephens

To Catch A Falling Cactus

Neurodivergent Rebel

Rebelling against a culture that values assimilation over individuality.

ChrissyAdventures

Everyday is an Adventure. Embrace it

Here By Design

Ideas and inspiration for beautiful, sustainable gardens.

Be Inspired..!!

Listen to your inner self..it has all the answers..

Kana Wanders

Life in Kana-text (er... CONtext)

Spring into Summer

finding my voice and speaking my truth

Ginger's Grocery

Come on in and browse. The biscuits were made fresh this morning, the Slush Puppie machine was just refilled with a new bottle of red syrup, and we have the biggest selection of bait this close to town.

witlessdatingafterfifty

Relationships reveal our hearts.

JackCollier7

Charming, cultured, generous, honest, sophisticated, understanding, and urbane.

The Georgetown Metropolitan

News, Information, and Events for the Georgetown Community

%d bloggers like this: