This weekend while strolling around an art festival arm in arm with two wonderful men (aren’t I the smart gal) I ran into the Mother of an old, old, haven’t talked to old friend in 18 years, sort of blast from my past. Now usually if I spot anyone that is from R-BC (Rebecca Before Children) I run the opposite direction like a doe running from a wolf of memories, but I shocked myself in a moment of brazen curiosity and walked up to old friends Mom.  I must have left a lingering impression because she remembered me, and it must have been a decent impression because she didn’t gasp, “Oh noooooooo not you!” (and run the opposite direction with her fingers in her ears) Instead, she was very friendly and instantly called me by my R-BC name ~ Becky.

We talked for some time, catching up, filling in the years of what I’ve been up too and this sweet Mom, catching me up on her daughters world. What struck me, and has lingered since Saturday is the huge difference in my life compared to my old friend. I have two children, old friend is thinking about having kids soon. I’ve been married twice, she’s never married. She lived out the country for 10 years, I’ve never broke past the borders of Idaho. My oldest daughter is the same age R-BC and old friend hung out last. Hello time warp……..

Kaitlyn & Shelby 1st day of School 2009

We are the same age, yet, our lives that once mirrored one another are so far removed, universes apart and our realities only share the common thread of past memories. When I got home Saturday evening I pulled up the picture of my two daughters and their first day of school this year. When I was 19 years old I had a baby and that baby is now 17 years old and a Senior in High School. Time in a vice grip.

Since the day, the very second I moved out of my parents home with a baby on my hip, I have lived life firmly attached to parenthood and adulthood responsibilities. I never experienced life apart from my parents and solely responsible for myself and myself alone like my old friend. Yes, to this day, I wonder what could have been, where I would have gone, what I could have done if I hadn’t poured such precious concrete around my future.

I don’t believe what I feel is regret, but rather the occasional discreet glances over my shoulder at turning points. I am human and not to glance occasionally would be downright inhuman —right? For me a very profound defining moment happened one month after I turned 19 and it wasn’t the sex, it was the baby it created. The moment of conception is when my path in life took a hard left and I was shuffled off the learn solitary independence path my friends were on and I lined up, single file, on the fast track to caring for another, 24/7.

This subject, my reality and past is itchy grass to sit down in. Sometimes I observe my girls and wonder if they realized what I gave up for them, not just in my youth, but other path choices over the years, if they would pity me, feel unwarranted guilt or understand my love and what I thought was best for them superseded anything I could have gifted myself. I’ll never know because they will never know. Unnecessary truths and admissions can create burdens no innocent soul should carry. I see no need to ever go there…….

I’ve planned a meeting with my old friend. I look forward to absorbing her stories and her view of the world around her. I’ll look at it as a foggy confirmation or disenchantment of what could have been and in return, I’ll share with her what life having children out the gate of teenage-hood has gifted and shown me. Maybe we’ll look at each other and feel so disconnected it will be the last time we talk. Perhaps we’ll click like we once did and simply enjoy our different life perspectives. Maybe, just maybe, we’ll both envy a piece of what each other has had or has now and together we can thread a common connection once again.

On the bright side, when I do find myself slipping over the shoulder glances at where I’ve been I can straighten up, look forward and because of my past, I’m like totally in the homestretch of having children home 24/7 and at the age of 37 I couldn’t even comprehend, fantasize or swallow having a baby at this age. Hell—oooo Noooo to the double O.

What I really appreciate about perspective is that it has a nice resounding bitch slap when you need it the most~

~Betty~

Shhhh…….can you hear that? It’s the sound of relief or tears from  many, many Mommies sending their kiddos back to school today.

I happen to fall into the relief category. That’s right, I’m one of those Moms. It has nothing to do with my daughters and everything to do with me. The older I get, the more I need the predictable schedule of their school hours. I need that space of time between 7:45 a.m and 3:00 p.m. that is all about focus and getting things accomplished.

Being a summer slacker looses it’s luster after awhile and I’ve been feeling the need for an actual schedule creeping around the edges this last month. Thats utterly boring to admit so I shall blame age, responsibility, life and obligations for losing my carefree spirit.  Damn adulthood anyway.

A week, or so ago (without schedule time tends to fold into and over itself), I was chatting with one of my daughters about Motherhood. She would like 4 children. A Boy first and then any combination of boy or girl after that until she fulfils the desired 2 boy-2 girl quota. As a Grandma to be, I’m all over those numbers. The more the merrier I say.

~Poppins~

Daughter:  I’m not sure what type of Mother I’ll be.

Me:  Well, you’ll either be a bit like I’ve been or because of the type of Mom I’ve been, you’ll run to the other side and be a Betty Poppins Mom. 

Daughter: What Is A Betty Poppins Mom??

Me: Oh you know, the sort of Mom I’ve never been. 1/2 Betty Crocker and 1/2 Mary Poppins. Cupcakes and a spoon full of sugar and all that.

Daughter: Ohhhhhh–well, ummm 

Me: Darlin, we both know I’ve never been one of those Moms and I’m Mom enough to admit it. Hopefully it isn’t a genetic thing so maybe your kids will have a chance.

Daughter: Maybe!

Me: You should know though, I totally plan on being the Anna Osbourne Grandma. And if you’re wondering what that is I’ll tell you. It’s 1/2 my Mother Anna and her amazing Grandma skills, plus 1/2 Sharon Osbourne and her rockin wacky ways. You’re kids are gonna love me as a Grandma so make sure and have lots and lots of them.

In three hours time a bell will chime, ding, buzz, scream, announce and generally warn the valley that I live in—– school, is out for the summer. 

When this breath sucking moment occurs, ding ding ding style,  a range of emotions will flutter like a virus though thousands and thousands. I’m fairly certain the entire dynamic of life as we know it will shift instantaneously and the earth will wobble on it’s axis. Ding.

I’m not so old that I don’t remember ~For kids, when they hear that bell announce their jail cell has been unlocked and the key lost until September, there will be tears of joy. They will feel relief that they made it through another grade in school and walk out those school doors with a mind full of positive expectations for their precious summer days. They will be punch drunk on glorious freedom.

I am old enough to know what this means as a Mom ~ Terror comes to mind. Entertainment schedules and daily movement throughout the house. It means extra snacks in the cupboards and a revolving friend door that never hits anyone in the ass. It means mid-week sleepovers and a whole lotta frozen popsicles. It also bring these questions and statements….. the words that provoke mind numbing dead air space……….

“Mom, what can we do today?”
“Mom, there’s nothing to do……….”
“Mom, can we…..”
“Mom, can thing 1, thing 2, thing 3, thing 4 and thing 5 all spend the night?”
Mom, there’s nothing good to eat…”
“Mom, will you give us a ride….”

“Mom, are you there? Whats wrong with you? Your eyes are scaring me, they look blank and glazed over and why are you strumming your lower lip like that?”

I know some parents, the good ones, look at summer as a beautiful time to have their kids in the homestead full time. Those parents probably bake toll house cookies and cupcakes on a daily basis. They probably have a nicely constructed calendar already filled to the brim with activities and highlights to occupy their time. I admire that and them. Honestly.

I just happen to fall in line with the parents who protest and cry (read, sob pathetically) with signs on the last day of school. We can be heard chanting a full year of school would be safe and beneficial for all parties involved.  The teachers position themselves from their art covered windows and throw spit wads down at us sad parental figures. We parents get zero sympathy points from them……..(love you teachers for the 9 months you do bestow upon us)

So, in a few hours the bell will chime freedom for some and panic for others. I will paint a brilliant smile on my face and wing it for the next 3 months. I will hope for the best ( a quick arrival of September) and mentally prepare myself for the invasion.

I can do this. For the other parents who aren’t all, “Oh wee, this will be fun” I know exactly what you are thinking……..For the good parents, yes, well, please don’t tell my kids what you’re up too, that’s bad for business!

Someone, and I shall not publicly ‘out’ the guilty family members name, made a loud noise this morning. Item number 1 on the Mothers Day request list, sleep blissfully in,  is a no go. Now, if that certain someone would come up with a bell for me, I’d likely forgive, forget and get to jingle jangling to my hearts content.

But, between you and me, I don’t think the bell request is going to fly either. When I mentioned it earlier, every eyebrow in the room raised, heads tilted a bit sideways and I swear I heard a snickering round of laughter when I walked into the next room. Some people (teenagers) have no appreciation for the magical potential of a bell.  What they don’t realize is that in a Mothers world, the word MOM, hollered through a house, is just as effective as a bell and they ring that tactic, daily, year round. Someday they will understand that although it may not jingle and chime, the ring of MOM will be the bell that pulls them around like a kite on the end of a rubber band.

What comes around, goes around right? I remember late in my formidable teen years my own Mother looking me in the eye and saying, “I hope you have a daughter” and in Motherly spell speak, that meant, I curse you with teen daughters and may everything you give me come back times three on you. Scared the crap out of me! From the first day my oldest daughter was born she was in anti-teenage hell training. Don’t believe me? It’s the first lecture I ever gave Shelby, day 1 of her life, and I have witnesses. Pink and blue eyed, swaddled like a butterfly in a cocoon, I explained to her that no funny teenage business would go down because I was already a pro at teenage funny business. Shelby’s 17 now, Kaitlyn, is 14 and so far, so good. Boot Camp, anti-teenage hell, has been successful thus far. Voodoo Dolls work like a charm.

On Mothers Day I always realize how lucky I was in the family/Mother lottery. Of course, growing up I had no idea just how lucky I was to claim Momma Anna for my own. In those days, she was just plain old Mom, the one I pulled around on the rubber band and loved. I know I made her life a little (understatement) miserable in my teen years, but thankfully I came around in the end. My Mom was always there for me, in every sense of the definition of Mother, and still is. I know now that I was one of the lucky kids. I understand I am still lucky to have her as such an active and positive role in my life and that of my own daughters..  I say, luck, but perhaps I should just say, luck had nothing to do with it. My Mother worked hard at doing the best she could by me. For that, I am eternally grateful. Love you to the Moon and Back Mom~

I wish all the Mothers out there a beautiful Mothers Day. May you all get a bell for one day, a full plate of rice krispy treats and all the pampering and love you can soak up.

~Rebecca Anne~

Saturday Daily entry Save~cha-ching 39 days in a row~ I snuck out of town for the last 24 hours. Gone. No house. No wireless connection. No email. No laptop. No kids. No cell phone. No pets. I did let the husband tag along because I am a kind and generous soul. I was a wild woman, carefree and without responsibility. It was brief, but it was divine. I consider it one half of my Mothers day present to myself, time out and away from the house~

Tomorrow is the big day. The holy Mother of all appreciation holidays. Not only do I look forward to how my daughters will spoil me, I get to spoil my own Mother. The whole day carries good vibes and I’d never turn my back on good Mamma juju.

As I’ve wandered around the Internet over the last week I’ve seen many, many good suggestions for Mothers day gifts. I’ve seen the standard ideas, some unique possibilities and a few that just raised my eyebrows and made me hope to gawd my daughters didn’t stumble across the article. When it comes down to it, I’m not really worried about what I get……..But, if I have a choice or voice in this matter I do have a few requests.

1. Since it’s my day, no one and this includes pets, should make a single– solitary noise in the morning until I am fully awake. I’ve heard about this fairy tale called quote “sleeping in” and I’d really like to test it out. I’m fairly certain it’s just an urban myth, but like a mad scientist, I’d like to experiment~But please have the coffee fully percolated and ready for my favorite cup. You can do this silently, I have faith!  
2. Standard, no lift a finger around the house, Mothers day rules should apply, but this year, I would like a bell. That’s right a bell. The jingle jangle of a bell would enhance my pedestal status on the couch. I’m certain.
3. For one day, no one should text message around me. That’s right, nadda on the text messaging your friends right next to me and my pedestal. The annoying, click click click your fingers make at warp texting speed drives me batty. I know you didn’t know this bothered me so, but there. It’s out. If you must text, go to the bedroom or the bathroom. Just think of all the exercise you’ll get! It will be like watching a tennis match.
4. Rice krispy Treats. Make a whole pan thats just for me. Say a vow to the Patron Saint Mommyday that no one will dare swipe a square or look at my feast with hungry eyes and a quivering lip. There should be no rice krispy treat guilt, on Mothers Day. Do that, make me rice krispy treats and I’ll pledge a whole ‘nother year of putting you both on a pedestal and loving the hell out of you~

That’s it. I think, that’s simple enough. Now, I’ve got to run, clean the house top to bottom, do as much laundry as I can get in before midnight, scrub some toilets…….you know, get the house prepared for my day off sort of deal~~~