A Little Me Time

This weekend, my little Birdie graduated from high school on Friday night, and yesterday we hosted an Open House in her honor.  It was a very emotional and stressful weekend, with an unexpected hospital stay for my husband and a few snafus in our schedule, but we pulled it off gloriously and were able to give our daughter the recognition she so deserves for her many accomplishments.




I went from moments of overwhelming stress to moments of overwhelming pride and love for my family.  When my daughter walked across that stage to receive her diploma, she was not thinking of herself, she was anxious to sneak away and see her daddy.  When her friends came through the next day to help us finish the many preparations for her party, I knew it was because they care so much for my daughter.  I watched her as she gathered her friends for pictures and moved among her guests with genuine gratitude that they came to wish her well.  I knew that, like me,
Birdie was exhausted and emotional and her nerves were stretched a bit too thin, yet she presented herself with grace and a warm smile for everyone.  I was so proud of her, and full of love for my beautiful daughter.

That being said, she hasn't exactly made it so easy to love her prior to this weekend.  I know it's normal for kids her age to start separating themselves from their family.  My friend Susan told me that kids have to create a scenario that they can't wait to get away from, or they would not be able to bear leaving.  So as my Birdie prepares to go off to the big city and start her college education, she doesn't want to hate us, but she has to, or she would not be capable of leaving us.

As Birdie starts the process of separating herself from us emotionally, I find myself doing the same thing.  My kids are growing up, and leaving me, and if I don't find something else to focus on, I won't be able to bear having them gone.  I am looking for a little "me time".

So many women I know reach a point where their role as a wife and mother changes, and they seek new interests and hobbies to fill the time.  The women I know enjoy a variety of pursuits for "me time".  Some join a book club, some set aside a certain day of the week, every week, for dinner out with other girl friends.  I know a few who garden, or attend quilt making classes, or travel often to museums, plays, and exhibits.  A few golf, but most simply go shopping to give themselves something to look forward to.  A day of pampering is also at the top of the list.

Not me.  I go camping.  I don't go often, but when I do I am gone for four days or more.  My family hates it.  The girls complain because they have to do the laundry and cooking when I'm gone, my husband has to attend all school and sporting events, and their time becomes full with the usual demands on my time.  Sometimes I feel a little guilty, but I need my camping trips.  I need my "me time".

I have not had time to write for the past six weeks.  Preparing my home for the Open House while juggling the many tasks a mother of a high school senior has, and still doing my daily chores and taking care of my family, leaves me with very little free time.

While there are countless details I have attended to, I also carved a little time out of each day to photo journal Birdie's life.  The picture posters were displayed at the Open House.  I spent hours scanning old pictures, categorizing them, and creating files for each board.  I took great care in selecting only the photos of my daughter that showed her true personality, her accomplishments, and her genuine goodness.  Then I sent each file to the printer, and once I received the photos, I began creating the boards.

There is a board for every school photo from every year, starting with pre-school and ending with Birdie's Senior Photo.  I love the progression of years, seeing how she changed and how she stayed the same.  Another board is for family, and one is exclusively photos of her relationship with her boyfriend.  The big tri-fold boards are for documenting the amazing and wonderful friends Birdie has kept through the years and for her beautiful journey from infant to young woman.  Then there is the board which tells the story of the sports she has played and her memorable experience winning a State Championship with her high school cross country team.

As I sorted the photos and began creating her story, it was, of course, an emotional journey for me.  I will admit, I take awesome pictures, and Birdie's entire being, everything she is about and all of the things that make me so proud of her were laid out in front of me.  I took a little trip down memory lane and truly enjoyed seeing how my daughter has grown.  The boards were prominently placed during the Open House this weekend for all the guests to look at, point out their own memories of Birdie, laugh at her antics, and experience the pride I feel in my girl.  I felt a sudden stab of panic over the camping trips I have taken this past year.  Did I miss out on something?  Was there one day in my daughter's life that I was unable to capture with my camera because I left my family for "me time"?  The thought left me sleepless.  What kind of mother goes off into the woods to be alone when her beautiful family is growing up too fast?  How could I ever want to miss a moment of this?

But in the normal fashion of high school seniors, my Birdie has attended to her necessary emotional separation from me with the same gusto that she went after outstanding grades and excellence in sports. She is closing off a little piece of her heart to me, for now, with the same passion that she has opened her heart to others.  A few days before her graduation, I finished the final photo journal board, and I couldn't wait to show her all my hard work and passion.  I eagerly anticipated that she would be as overcome by the photo story of her life as I was. But when Birdie stumbled out of bed at 11:00am and sleepily wandered over to look at the boards, her only comment to me was, "I hate some of those pictures, I wish you would have asked my permission first".

I leave Thursday to go camping.  Alone.  I need a little "me time".

Snow Days

Another storm system is hitting the Midwest today, though it is just missing my region.  Last week, I enjoyed all the stories and photos I saw from Michigan's TV6 & Fox U.P., where they experienced "Yoopergeddon" in the form of a blizzard.  I was wishing I was there, and remembering snow days from years gone by.

When my kids were younger, Snow Days were Fun Days.  It would start about 5 days before the storm, when the local weatherman would say "We are keeping an eye on this system…"  The anticipation would begin with those words, and I became obsessed with watching the news to see if the storm would, indeed, be a big one.  As the days went on, the predictions would build with phrases like "this could be a significant storm" and "…a second system could merge with this one"  as the kids and I eagerly made bets on how many inches of snow might fall and how many days school would be cancelled.  Before the storm hit, I would go to the grocery store and stock up on Pizza Rolls, milk, gatorade, and popcorn.  My husband would bring home spark plugs and cans filled with gasoline for the snowmobiles and snow blower.  The kids lined their snow boots and pants up in the hallway, readying them for the first early morning hours of snowfall.  Then we would listen to the weather report and impatiently watch out the window for those first few flakes to fall.

When we woke to the official cancellation of school and a winter wonderland in our backyard, the kids got on the phone and invited all their friends over.  By 10:00am, I would have a houseful of happy kids preparing to spend the day in my yard snowmobiling, ice skating, building snow forts, creating jumps, and stockpiling snowballs.  

In a frenzy of activity, the kids went from one fun task to another while I made hot chocolate from scratch, a pot of chili, pizza rolls, and threw mittens, gloves, hats, and snowpants in the dryer.  I kept busy with my camera, capturing these priceless days to show later at high school graduation parties and to keep for my kids to have when they start a family of their own.

These were days that left me exhausted, with a wrecked house and wet floors.  I went from the house to the rink to the front yard to the woods beyond our property, running to keep up with the kids so I didn't miss a moment.  I carried extra chairs to the kitchen table, taped hockey sticks, and filled tanks on snowmobiles.  I never plowed the driveway, because the kids needed the snow to cross over the drive on the sleds.  My windows were covered with the remnants of snow balls and my lint trap was full in the dryer.  As many as 20 kids would stumble into the house, red cheeks burning and numb toes stinging, all the while laughing and joking and loving my house on snow days.  I was the fun mom, and I loved it!

But these days, not so much.  Now, when the weatherman starts building us up to a snow day, I dread it.  The kids all grew up, and they don't come to my house anymore.  Most of them are in college, and my girls tend to spend an unexpected day off sitting on the couch and watching TV.  It drives me crazy.  When did they stop loving snow?  How did it happen that, in the blink of an eye, I went from fun mom to nagging mom?  I once called out to them "Come inside before you turn into a snowman!" and now I spend snow days begging the kids to get off the couch and just do something, anything.  I suggest my girls take the free time to finally clean their room, and I get the eye roll.  I don't even ask anymore if they could shovel the sidewalk.  I bundle myself up, go outside, shovel heavy snow, and give them dirty looks through the window as they wave to me from the couch.

Yes, these days, things are different.  The hockey rink sits unused, with no ice, a lonely behemoth standing alone in the woods.  No longer do I hear the sounds of skate blades whispering across the ice, pucks pinging off the bar, or boys cheering when they score a goal in a game of hockey with no rules.  The snowmobiles finally broke down for the last time, and I don't even know what became of them.  

The yard, once filled with shouts and laughter, now sits quietly, listening to the snowfall alone with no one to hear its special silence.  When did my kids stop being kids and start being teenagers?  I don't like it.  Instead of falling into bed at night with their arms wrapped around my neck and telling me "Thanks, mom, I had the best day!" they just move the day-long Dance Moms Marathon from the couch to their rooms, wondering why they are so tired after sitting all day.  Snow Days have become Lazy Days, and they are boring.

Winter is almost over for this year.  But next year, when I only have one teenager left at home and we have a Snow Day, I am going to drag my daughter out of the house and bombard her with snowballs.  Then I am going to help her build a snowman, pull her behind the gator on a sled, and make snow angels.  We are going outside next year, together, and I am going to once more enjoy her happy childhood, whether she is happy about it or not.  I'm not ready for Lazy Days, I want Snow Days!