Memories of Mama

Mother's Day thoughts Part 5

We have all had that moment, haven't we? When we flopped into our rooms, slammed ourselves down on our beds and said those fateful words: When I grow up, I'll never _______ ...words that reverberate over and over in us after we have kids...finally to be repented of completely when those kids become teenagers.

Consider this post the opposite of that temper tantrum. These are some of the things I remember about my mom. But whether by DNA or temperament, or simply because the way we live life has changed, most of this list of things will not be a part of the legacy I leave my girls! But they are things that I treasure when I think of my mom.

• Hearing the on again, off again hum of the Kenmore sewing machine at night while I drifted off to sleep.

• Watching her sew tiny, tiny arms on outfits for my Barbies...just like the ones in the store. No, even better, because sometimes they matched my clothes!

• Making snow ice cream shortly after the first flakes of winter fell.

• Hanging up laundry on the line and running through the sheets. Knowing from the look on her face, she really didn't want me to do it, but smiling at the fun I was having.

• Holding the hymnal while her finger ran across the words.

• Feeling her stroke my hair as I lay on the pew with my head in her lap.

• Hearing those hymns again and again as she softly sang while she worked.

• Watching her hands, strong and sure, as she planted in the garden.

• Watching her face as the day's cares washed away as she watered each night.

• Grinning, half embarrassed, half delighted, as I watch her enter a room bopping and swaying to some tune in her head.

• The girl-like grin that crossed her face when I told her that "nobody" called today.

• The smell of cookies and the sight of all the sprinkles and candy beads on the kitchen counters at Christmas time.

• The look on her face anytime she thought about Christmas!

• The soft slide of yarn as she crocheted everything from blankets to pot holders to stockings to shoes.

• Seeking out her face in the crowd from the stage...feeling so proud in my bright, new dress that she made just for me.

• Finally finding her eyes and watching her smile get a little larger at me.

• The sureness of her hand in mine as we would walk across the busy street to get my brother from school.

• The bone-deep certainty I have always had in knowing I was hers...I was loved...I was home when I was with her.

My girls may not ever try on those crocheted slippers to see if they fit, or wear a dress I've labored over at night while they slept, or hand me clothes pins to secure the sheets on the line...but I pray the last one will be as true for them as it is for me.

How deep the Father's love for me, to give me my mama.
I love you, Mama.
Happy Mother's Day.

Nice sweater, Darrell

Sermon Spice is where a lot of our pastors find those videos they show on Sundays. Today, I saw one that made me laugh. How is it that we can be perfectly competent adults until we get around our mothers? Click here and see.

That mouse knows something we don't

Mother's Day thoughts Part 4

My girls loved the book If You Give a Mouse a Cookie by Laura Joffe Numeroff. I read it dozens of times to them as they gathered their three books for us to read to them at night. They would repeat from memory the words on each page. Well, now, just in time for Mother's Day, a new story has been written! I'm just not sure we made out as well as the mouse did...

If You Give A Mom A Muffin

Original Author Unknown

If you give a mom a muffin,
She'll want a cup of coffee to go with it.
She'll pour herself some.
Her three-year-old will spill the coffee.
She'll wipe it up.
Wiping the floor, she'll find dirty socks.
She'll remember she has to do laundry.
When she puts the laundry in the washer,
She'll trip over boots and bump into the freezer.
Bumping into the freezer will remind her she has to plan for supper.
She will get out a pound of hamburger.
She'll look for her cookbook ("101 Things To Do With a Pound of Hamburger").
The cookbook is sitting under a pile of mail.
She will see the phone bill, which is due tomorrow.
She will look for her checkbook.
The check book is in her purse that is being dumped out by her two-year-old.
She'll smell something funny.
She'll change the two year old's diaper.
While she is changing the diaper, the phone will ring.
Her five-year-old will answer and hang up.
She'll remember she wants to phone a friend for coffee.
Thinking of coffee will remind her that she was going to have a cup.
And chances are...
If she has a cup of coffee,
Her kids will have eaten the muffin that went with it.

Grannie

Mother's Day thoughts, Part 3

My sister and brother would attest to the fact that I have a lot of gaps in my childhood memories. Paula especially is forever pointing out people when I go home and saying things like: They were in every class you had. How could you not remember them?? Easy. At least for me.

She would also attest to the fact that my brain does recall a lot...just odd things to her. But I know there is one place she could bring up where memories come sharply into focus. That's Grannie's. We actually called it Grannie and Pop's. They were my dad's parents who lived in our town. The trip took half a day to travel. Well, now I realize that it was actually about 3 minutes! But at the time, it was all the way across town (it was a small town!). We were there what seemed to me to be at least a few times a week for one reason or another. Mostly just stop-by trips. But every so often, Mom and Dad would go on a date or to see a man about a dog (whatever that meant) and we'd get to spend the night with them.

But it's right there that Pop sort of drops out of view for me. Actually, my memory is pretty clear. It's just that it seemed he was literally out of the room. I'm sure the years have blurred sequences of events, but in my mind every evening he'd go lie down in their bed and Grannie would stay up with us until we fell asleep. That's when the fun began for us all. Sliding down the HUGE hill in back of the house on cardboard boxes. (Okay, it was about 15 feet long.) Playing dress up in Pop and Grannie's clothes to great applause. Playing with their dog, Lucky. Reading our uncle's college text books. (Well, maybe that last one was just me...and reveals more than I might want to!)

Grannie is also the reason that I can craft almost anything. I can macramé, crochet, knit, paint by numbers, weave beads, do string art and turn Sears Roebuck catalogs into works of art that are also useful for storing your bills and letters! Okay, I admit, I have no idea what that was about, but we folded hundreds of pages to make something! (Maybe Grannie was just filling time!)

In Grannie's house, time was slow. The night lasted forever because there was no bedtime. She'd pull out the bed from the couch and we'd eventually lay down to watch TV and drift off with her sitting in the recliner right next to us. We'd wake to the smell of pancakes in Mickey Mouse shapes...with vanilla ice cream if we asked nicely! Popsicles were usually the breakfast dessert!

As fun as all this was there was one thing that I remember most about Grannie, that I'll treasure about her forever. She made me feel completely accepted. No, maybe the words...delighted in...hit the mark more. I often felt very different from the crowd when I was growing up. Yes, I know...my friends are saying to themselves that not much has changed! But Grannie's house was the place where that all faded away. I was wrapped up by a lady who beamed when she saw me...who thought everything I did was worth exclaiming over...who asked me over and over what I liked and made sure it was there to do. She was generous with her words, with her time, with her energy, with her possessions.

There was one day that stands out when I was still in elementary school. I've thought of it probably hundreds of times over the years. I was in the spare room on the right looking through that box of college text books. I found one that said "College Algebra". I had never heard the words, but once the book was opened, I was fascinated by it. It was like a puzzle I had to figure out. My dad passed down the hallway and looked in. When he realized what I was doing, he shook his head and told me to get out of there and go outside with the other kids. That's when I heard Grannie's voice. She told him to "let me alone", that I was fine right where I was. I remember him saying that it's not right that I'm in there reading stuff like that. She told him that this was her house and if I wanted to read old textbooks, I could. I remember the words she said last: She's fine. Just leave her alone.

Tears still come to my eyes as I write it. I was worth defending, standing up for...and more importantly, I was fine. I didn't often feel it at that age. I was different in school...different from family...different from friends. But not at Grannie's. There I was fine. Normal. Accepted. That day shaped me in ways that I can still see today. It is so important to me that my girls' oddities be accepted as just fine with me. I want them to feel delighted in, accepted, asked about, and I want them to know that they are worth standing up for.

I asked her years later if she remembered that day. She smiled at me and said no, but that she wouldn't doubt it. I was forever digging around in there, she said. And apparently my dad was forever trying to get me to join the family. The fact that she didn't remember just highlights the value of Grannie to me. It wasn't the extraordinary that made her such a treasure to me. It was the moments, all but lost by time, that made her days so normal to her...and so lifegiving to me.

I thank God for the gift of her as I think of Mother's Day. I'm grateful for the time I had. But I miss my Grannie.

Not sure what the ratings would be like, but it'd be funny to watch

Mother's Day thoughts, Part 2

The gals at girl talk posted this a while back...


The next "Survivor" series:

Six married men will be dropped on an island with one car and 3 kids each for six weeks.

Each kid will play two sports and either take music or dance classes

There is no fast food.

Each man must take care of his 3 kids; keep his assigned house clean, correct all homework, and complete science projects, cook, do laundry, and pay a list of 'pretend' bills with not enough money.

In addition, each man will have to budget in money for groceries each week.

Each man must remember the birthdays of all their friends and relatives, and send cards out on time.

Each man must also take each child to a doctor's appointment, a dentist appointment and a haircut appointment.

He must make one unscheduled and inconvenient visit per child to the Urgent Care.

He must also make cookies or cupcakes for a social function.

Each man will be responsible for decorating his own assigned house, planting flowers outside and keeping it presentable at all times.

The men will only have access to television when the kids are asleep and all chores are done.

The men must shave their legs, wear makeup daily, adorn himself with jewelry, wear uncomfortable yet stylish shoes, keep fingernails polished and eyebrows groomed.

During one of the six weeks, the men will have to endure severe abdominal cramps, back aches, and have extreme, unexplained mood swings but never once complain or slow down from other duties.

They must attend weekly school meetings, church, and find time at least once to spend the afternoon at the park or a similar setting.

They will need to read a book and then pray with the children each night and in the morning, feed them, dress them, brush their teeth and comb their hair by 7:00 am.

A test will be given at the end of the six weeks, and each father will be required to know all of the following information: each child's birthday, height, weight, shoe size, clothes size and doctor's name. Also the child's weight at birth, length, time of birth, and length of labor, each child's favorite color, middle name, favorite snack, favorite song, favorite drink, favorite toy, biggest fear and what they want to be when they grow up. The kids vote them off the island based on performance. The last man wins only if...he still has enough energy to be intimate with his spouse at a moment's notice.

If the last man does win, he can play the game over and over and over again for the next 18-25 years eventually earning the right to be called Mother!

Thinking about Mother's Day

Part 1

We had our final kid's choir practice at our church in preparation for Mother's Day. This has put me in the mom frame of mind. So, I thought this week I'd share some fun, some touching, some ironic, some challenging and some much needed reminders.

On the fun side, I read this posting at a blog called Ordinary Mother. She's a lot like most of us...esp. Angela since she's got three boys and one girl! She says herself that her blog is full of the musings of a Christian, wife, mother and homemaker. She's a touching writer. When I read her list (below) I thought through some of mine which I'll add at the end.

I've been thinking a lot about pride and humility. I thought this post captures one of the tragedies of my life in a way that is funny while it exposes. I am the person I don't want to be...one who looks at others and think: What's wrong with them? Can't they see the right way? I want to become the woman who knows deep in her heart that I am the biggest sinner I will ever know. Credit that thought to C. J. Mahaney...I'll write more on that later...for now, enjoy...

I really wish I had been taught more about the doctrine of indwelling sin before I had kids. Perhaps an awareness of pride in my heart would have kept me from thinking the following: “I’ll never be one of those moms.” Oh how pride goes before the fall, and in my life it has looked a little like this.

1. I became one of those moms when my toddler twins screamed bloody murder at the Target because they couldn’t have the bouncy ball they wanted.
2. I became one of those moms when I just couldn’t keep up with the runny noses in February.
3. I became one of those moms when my kids did eventually begin eating pop tarts for breakfast, and frozen chicken nuggets for dinner.
4. I became one of those moms when after asking my son if he had changed his shirt today, he responded with, “no, this is only the second day I wore this one and it doesn’t have anything on it.” And I was okay with that.
5. I became one of those moms when during my third trimester of pregnancy with Maggie I yelled to my boys, “If you make me get up off of this sofa, you are really going to be sorry!!!!” and then five minutes later, “I really mean it this time!” and then five minutes later “I am telling you boys – you are really going to regret it if you don’t obey mommy!” and then five minutes later “wait till your father gets home!”
6. I became one of those moms when I was excited to be alone at Wal Mart on a Friday night.
7. I became one of those moms when I owned at least seven pairs of pajama pants that aren’t worn just for pajamas.
8. I became one of those moms when at 3pm I realized I hadn’t brushed my teeth yet.
9. I became one of those moms when I was on a date with my husband and the “let down reflex” resulted in two wet spots in not so discreet places.
10. I became one of those moms when I bribed my kids with lollipops every time I took them to the mall.

For me...I became one of those moms when:

• nachos at a football game became dinner.
• candy at 9:30pm on a Friday night while the band plays became a tradition.
• sleeping in whatever they were wearing when I managed to get them inside the house later at 1 am was more than acceptable.
• the three second rule applied to more than pacifiers.
• asking my 6 year old to babysit so I could get a shower seemed like a perfectly logical thing to do.
• anything that would keep them busy long enough to get dinner was good with me.
• we skipped Brennan (our third) right past baby food and went almost straight to table food!
  

Got any you'd like to add?