I wish if the sky fell it would just envelope me in its sweet, comforting blue hue.
The week has ended. A bittersweet conclusion. My mom flew in for my daughter Casey's Spring Break. With a "routine" break comes tender, sweet, funny moments and jittery, scattered, flip-outs. The flip-outs are my short bursts of frustration where I cannot get my five year old to "do as I ask."
My mom's plane flew out last night. Casey spent the night at her dad's place and will return home soon. I am left with some waking hours of alone-time to let my brain and emotions melt into a pool of lumpy tapioca. After this exercise, I will take my tapioca mindset and begin reconstituting it into a firm yet penetrable workable form.
Laundry is done, check. House is cleaned, check. Dog is fed and walked, check. My yard is beautiful, thanks to my mom and Casey planting for days. . . Check Check Check!
The inventory of my surroundings is done so it is time to take stock of my thoughts. Seeing Casey enjoy her Nonni all week and watching her behave splendidly for her brings me pause.
Mothers want the best for their daughters. My mother sees the wonderful life that my daughter and I have. She sees the beautiful relationship that Casey has with her father; one that I have worked hard to nourish and one which I continue to foster despite the sacrifices I make.
Yet she wants me to be careful not to forget to nourish myself before all others...to vigilantly create my own life irrespective of my daughter...to pursue love...a love that will give me the adoration I deserve...perhaps the value I crave.
It is oftentimes lonely being a mother, having a child be so utterly dependent on you to know your way around the world. It is especially lonely being a single, Alpha female raising an Alpha 5 year old female. No matter how many "right" things you do as a parent, when you have lived your life in a driven, goal-oriented way, you see the "wrong" things you do in 3D.
But I must forgive myself for some of the lapses of "structure" I know that I need to provide my daughter in our home life: of going to bed at the same time, sleeping in our own beds, eating balanced meals at the table with no drawing pads and computers available. Yes I am guilty of cuddling up with my daughter on the couch during school nights and letting her drift off to sleep in my lap. Yes I am guilty of letting her sleep and wake up in my bed and letting her whisper softly to me each morning, "Mommy are you awake, look the day is here." Yes I am guilty of letting her draw while she eats and while I eat and write on my computer.
But my daughter is not my life; she is the welcomed guide to my great life. Every day she grows and I grow. I teach her and she teaches me. She can do things better and so can I. There are moments where I call her Veruca Salt; the spoiled girl who falls down the bad egg chute in pursuit of Wonka's golden egg, or Violet Beauregarde; the gum chomping take it and never leave it girl who turns into a giant Blueberry. But there are countless moments where I call her my angel baby, a label the NICU nurses fittingly gave her at her birth.
Nearing Easter and having had my mom visit makes me think of my favorite children's book: The Country Bunny and The Little Gold Shoes.
The Country Bunny is the main character in a story that has defined my life and undoubtedly the lives of many other adults who grew up reading this tale of courage, resourcefulness, fairness, and determination.
In 1939, DuBose Heyward, legendary author of Porgy and Bess, wrote this story for his daughter. The Country Bunny is about a little girl bunny with brown skin who believed that one day she would become an Easter Bunny. Her dream was a long-shot given that only “big white bunnies who lived in fine houses” and male “Jack Rabbits” had historically become Easter Bunnies, coupled with the fact that she had 21 bunnies to raise. But the Country Bunny had a kind and very wise fan. A grandfather of all Easter Bunnies believed in the Country Bunny and he gave her the hardest task of all, delivering an egg to an ill child on the highest mountaintop. With the help of gold shoes, the Country Bunny succeeded and became an Easter Bunny, returning from her quest in time to bring Easter tidings to her own bunnies.
I know many Country Bunnies and they enrich my life. I see my mom as a Country Bunny. I hope that in time my daughter sees me as one too.
I just found my Gold Shoes and I went out to my car and with my beautiful nails chipping and scraping, I removed the numerous stickers that Casey had plastered on the 2 rear windows of our car. Those stickers had traveled with us for months. Despite not being Jewish, nice moms at school wished us Happy Hanukkah because of the many holiday stickers gracing my car windows. It was time for me to reinforce needed boundaries.
The glue was great on Casey's stickers. They put up a good fight but finally yielded to my efforts. Our car windows now glisten. All I needed was to focus and assert my Country Bunny Alpha mompower.
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