Category Archives: Parenting

The Universe will give me a sign if I open my eyes.  Sometimes the signs are hard to read.  Sometimes my eyes can’t seem to see past all of the “tasks” I have assigned myself to read the signs that the Universe has so graciously provided.

And sometimes the signs are so blatant I can’t ignore them.

Earlier this week I woke up after a night of feeling crummy and decided it wouldn’t be wise to hit the gym.  So, instead I dug rocks out of the woods in my back yard and made a small bed near my back door for some hostas.

The trouble with tidying up one area of your yard is that it is impossible not to turn a critical eye towards the adjoining areas.

My ever-present sidekick was enjoying getting dirty so I pulled up all the pavers in the trash can and recycling bin parking area, rinsed off the gravel, pulled out the weeds, leveled the dirt and put the pavers back down.

Crooked.  But weed free.

Because that is just the kind of thing one should do when they wake up feeling a little sick after a sleepless night.

Filthy and feeling rather unstoppable at this point, I decided there was really only one thing left to do.  Go back to Home Depot for more hostas and mulch.

My back yard is a rock burial ground.  We have more rocks than we do blades of grass.  I really couldn’t justify buying some kind of edging to keep the mulch on the hill by the driveway.  After all, I am a stay at home gal, I have nothing but time.  Time.  Plenty of time to dig up buckets of rocks, schlep them out to the front yard in a bucket, dig a trench and edge another bed.

That seemed like enough for one day.

Yesterday I woke up and I could feel the pull of Home Depot.  Muuulllcch.  Muuulllcch.  I heard the sirens calling. I tried to resist them but my car seemed to have a mind of its own.  After the gym we found ourselves at Home Depot. “Lucy, how about this?  Let’s buy the mulch today and we can spread it this weekend when Daddy is home to help us.”

I actually said that out loud.  And then I started to laugh. There’s no way.  I’d spread mulch in a cocktail dress on the way to a wedding if it was sitting there.  New mulch is such an instant happy, shiny, brand new yard feeling.  I can’t resist it. But I didn’t feel like getting filthy.  So, we switched gears, bought some foam core insulation and came home and made a window valance. 

My supervisor seems pleased with my performance. 

“Lucy’s room” or “The Room That Looks Suspiciously Like A Guest Room Even Though Lucy is 19 Months Old”

So, when do I get to the Sign from the Universe?  Or is this really just a classic self-involved blogger “Look at all this shit I did this week!” kind of post? Yeah, I know what you’re thinking.  I’m all up in your Internet reading your mind, right?

Late last night I saw the sign as I was turning on to our sweet.  I was already trying to talk myself out of spreading mulch today. Or covering the box spring with fabric.

And there was the sign.

So, last  night I prepared.

And this morning we stopped. The road in front of the house is being repaved.   Lucy and I have a front row seat.  

Today’s plans – chalk. Trucks.  Coffee with a neighbor. Gym.  Hamburgers for dinner.  Softball practice.  That’s it.  I promise.

Come visit me on Facebook.  Like me and I will post updates throughout the day. I am going to give it a go.  Sometimes I need to be 100% Stopped. Wish me luck.

After dinner we fill out our books,  questions for each and every day that remind us to stop and slow down and talk to one another.  We had gotten a few days behind, so last night we were playing catch up.  Emily was filling out her book and I heard her sniff.

MQD had taken Lucy to the bath tub and we were alone in the kitchen.  “Are you ok?”

“Not really.”

She was crying.  And she wasn’t crying for the sake of getting my attention, she was actually trying to shrug it off.   “What’s wrong, Em?”

“This question just got me a little bit… well, I am crying.” The question: Would you rather travel back in time or go to outer space?  Why?

“Travel back in time, be my mommy’s baby.”  

We had the usual conversation about how she will always be my baby girl.  I shut the dishwasher and flopped down on the couch.  I held her tight and said that the best thing about being a kid is that no matter how old you get – this feeling – that feeling where nothing else matters in the entire world when your mom puts her arms around you – that never goes away.  I told her that she can always close her eyes, no matter where she is, and imagine that I am right there and know that if I was there I’d do the very same thing I am doing right now.  I’d hug her, with my face pressed against the top of her head and say “I love you, I love you so much it’s crazy, baby girl.”

We talked and laughed and cried and eventually hugging became tickling and tickling became screaming and screaming attracts the dog.  We decided to get out for a bit.  Take the dog for a walk.  Wipe our tears away.

As we walked we talked about the first day of school and her new hair cut.  We discussed for the 875th time the relative merits of capri pants vs shorts and the possibility of rain on that first day.  Deep stuff.

We came back to the front door and I bent down to take Fish off of his leash and I said “Hey, you” while I was down there.  Emily came to me, nearly knocking me down as she usually does.  “Listen, I have been trying to make this week special since it is the last week of summer break.  You know, letting you go in and get your hair cut by yourself, just little stuff to make you feel like a big girl.  I’m proud of you.”

Her eyes got wet as mine often do. “I know,” she said. “But could you try a little less.”

And so today we colored.  And we did not think about being a big girl.  Or second grade. We just colored.