It's a chilly fall morning , perfect for the Wine Festival parade and I'm surrounded by grandmotherly Italian banter while ballet moms greet each other in their own language.
"Oh hi! You must be Lily's mom. I'm Suzy's mom. Have you seen Julie's mom?"
I turn my head to hide my smirk and try not to be so obvious as I continue to eavesdrop.
My mind drifts back to my relaxing night out and I smile in silent appreciation. Last night, I enjoyed an evening out, savoring a delicious meal with adult conversation and a stroll through scenic Niagara Falls. We discussed religion, prime rib and why I can never become a Catholic. This last bit of news seemed a bit of a shock to my friend until I explained how I'd have to build my own backyard confessional just to keep up with the mistakes I make before stopping for lunch . Naturally, our conversation turned to the topic of parenting and I began to appreciate my age along with the privileges it brings. My young ladies and gentleman are well on their way to becoming successful adults and it's time for a reward. Days of diaper duty, cupcakes for the classroom, and playing referee at the dinner table are a vague memory; as if belonging to the life of a dear friend. Did I really spend two hours at the grocery store with three children divided between two overflowing carts and the last of my patience? Sunday afternoons were spent locked away in my room, napping and then planning lessons for the coming week and writing their progress report for the charter school. Nights out during the week, being hauled out of the house by a couple dear girlfriends who appreciated my sense of humor enough not to interfere with the pony rides at Meijer or speaking to the waiter in a foreign accent just for kicks. Yes, we really were a wild and rebellious bunch.
Pulling me out of my reverie at the dinner table, my friend asked me what day my 22'nd birthday was next month. I replied smartly that I would be 29 on the 11'th. Grin. It occurred to me that I am enjoying my life and the age I am now. I used to look back with fondness on the days my babies were babies, especially when seeing other families with their own cute toddlers. Now, I can appreciate seeing their happiness together without the bitterness that comes from not seeing my own. I do love them but I also feel a huge measure of pride in their accomplishments and independence. I would always insist they try new skills out on their own before lending a hand with tying their shoes or flipping that pancake straight to the floor. They are smart, responsible, funny and they know they can do anything they set their mind to doing. I am not overly worried about their ability to handle stressful times because I see the grace, dignity and compassion that have characterized their lives since mom and dad no longer live together. Of course that does not include undoing the lid to the saltshakers before dinner, but then that was a long time ago and possibly a rite of passage to welcome their new family members.
I am surprised that I'm able to realize that it's okay to recognize my time to enjoy the fruits of my labors. Surprised but thankful to have come this far and still be here to tell the tale.
One thing said that evening remains with me..Be bitter or be better.
As I turn my attention back to the floats gliding past in contrast to the stable hands chasing down the latest addition to the pavement, I am truly happy. Happy for friends both past and present and happy that God is keeping watch everyday.
"Oh hi! You must be Lily's mom. I'm Suzy's mom. Have you seen Julie's mom?"
I turn my head to hide my smirk and try not to be so obvious as I continue to eavesdrop.
My mind drifts back to my relaxing night out and I smile in silent appreciation. Last night, I enjoyed an evening out, savoring a delicious meal with adult conversation and a stroll through scenic Niagara Falls. We discussed religion, prime rib and why I can never become a Catholic. This last bit of news seemed a bit of a shock to my friend until I explained how I'd have to build my own backyard confessional just to keep up with the mistakes I make before stopping for lunch . Naturally, our conversation turned to the topic of parenting and I began to appreciate my age along with the privileges it brings. My young ladies and gentleman are well on their way to becoming successful adults and it's time for a reward. Days of diaper duty, cupcakes for the classroom, and playing referee at the dinner table are a vague memory; as if belonging to the life of a dear friend. Did I really spend two hours at the grocery store with three children divided between two overflowing carts and the last of my patience? Sunday afternoons were spent locked away in my room, napping and then planning lessons for the coming week and writing their progress report for the charter school. Nights out during the week, being hauled out of the house by a couple dear girlfriends who appreciated my sense of humor enough not to interfere with the pony rides at Meijer or speaking to the waiter in a foreign accent just for kicks. Yes, we really were a wild and rebellious bunch.
Pulling me out of my reverie at the dinner table, my friend asked me what day my 22'nd birthday was next month. I replied smartly that I would be 29 on the 11'th. Grin. It occurred to me that I am enjoying my life and the age I am now. I used to look back with fondness on the days my babies were babies, especially when seeing other families with their own cute toddlers. Now, I can appreciate seeing their happiness together without the bitterness that comes from not seeing my own. I do love them but I also feel a huge measure of pride in their accomplishments and independence. I would always insist they try new skills out on their own before lending a hand with tying their shoes or flipping that pancake straight to the floor. They are smart, responsible, funny and they know they can do anything they set their mind to doing. I am not overly worried about their ability to handle stressful times because I see the grace, dignity and compassion that have characterized their lives since mom and dad no longer live together. Of course that does not include undoing the lid to the saltshakers before dinner, but then that was a long time ago and possibly a rite of passage to welcome their new family members.
I am surprised that I'm able to realize that it's okay to recognize my time to enjoy the fruits of my labors. Surprised but thankful to have come this far and still be here to tell the tale.
One thing said that evening remains with me..Be bitter or be better.
As I turn my attention back to the floats gliding past in contrast to the stable hands chasing down the latest addition to the pavement, I am truly happy. Happy for friends both past and present and happy that God is keeping watch everyday.
