I thought I loved him then

When I was a girl, I would develop a crush on a boy and inevitably that boy would get a crush on one of my friends. It's just the way it was, and it was fine. I would give up on him and move on to another. I grew used to it. But then this happened and changed my life.


I saw him the first time 11 years ago this past February.


I can't tell you the first time he saw me.


I fell head over heals the very instant I saw him. The bells rang and the angels sang and God tapped me on the shoulder and whispered in my ear,"Not yet sweetie, but one day."


I don't really know even now what he heard or saw, or if God tapped him on the shoulder.
He was strong and rugged and would say whatever came to mind no matter what the recipient might think of it. He was stubborn and driven and was not about to let anyone tell him what to do or how to do it. He wasn't what I was used to. He wasn't what I knew. He was different. At first glance, he wasn't the guy that you would take home to Mom and Dad. Some of my friends thought I was crazy. I knew that there was more to this man than they were able to see. I saw it when I looked into his eyes. There was something there. There was so much more to be uncovered. Under the tough exterior of the cook, the NASCAR fan, the loud music. He would tell me that he was no good for me and I would usually reply that I knew better. No matter how hard he tried to hide the fact that he had any heart at all, I knew that his heart was good and loving and meant to beat next to mine.
It hasn't always been easy. In fact there have been times when we were both ready to pack up and walk out the door, but we didn't. By the grace of God we didn't.
All of the sides of him that I saw but didn't understand are more clear.
The stubbornness which can come across as harsh is now clearly what he uses to carry him through the days of hard work. And he works. He goes to work and comes home and works some more, not because he is a workaholic, but because he is a provider. Because he loves the fact that I love being home to see our littlest grow up. Because I love meeting the school bus, and I want to be here when my babies need me. Partly, even, because I really think he likes being around me, which at times I find amazing. The stubbornness comes through often and when three men in a grocery store parking lot "offer to take" his money, it turns to bravery, allowing his response to be that they can surely try but at least one of them is going down with him because he's going to get home to his family at the end of this day.
Somewhere deep inside was a love that is stronger than any I have ever known. The kind of love the bears a sign that reads something like this:
"These are the people that I love, and if you want to mess with them you will have to go through me first. "
The love that brings tears when he sees our daughter dressed for her first formal dance and strikes fear when she wants to ride in the car with a boy. The kind of love that gives him the strength to nearly kick down a maternity ward door to get to his wife and soon to be born son. The love that makes him love to wake up in the wee hours of his morning off to take his little boy fishing, because that's what he used to do with his father, grandfather and great-grandfather, and he wants to share the same gift of time with his own son. The love that he tried so hard to hide is stronger than I ever suspected.
You may ask if I have a sort of hero worship over romanticizing thing going on with him. Maybe so. I can admit that he isn't perfect. He has his bad days. There are times when his stubbornness can take me to my breaking point, usually when I see it in our youngest. But honestly he is perfect for me. I know without a doubt that he is the one I was meant to be with and the one I want to grow old with. Because he loves me whether I am at my worst or my best. He laughs with me when I'm at my silliest and he holds me when I cry. He tells me I am beautiful whether I am dressed up to go out or I'm in my old flannel pajamas. He loves me, not what my moods tell him or what I look like at a particular point in the day. No matter my mistakes or my successes. He loves me for me, and that truly is one of the greatest gifts he could give me.
The things I saw in him, in the first moments of the first glance were not a figment of my imagination. Maybe it was that I saw what our life could be if we just let go and let it happen. Like the song says, I thought I loved him then, and at the time I thought it was as strong as it could ever possibly be, but it wasn't. It has grown and it has gotten better, and the love has gotten stronger and grown deeper. It seems the only things that haven't changed are these few..
I still have a huge crush on him and my heart still skips a beat when I see that it's him on the other end of the phone line.
He is still the one that I want to share my days with and crawl into bed with at night, even if there is a three year old in between us.
His singing still makes me giggle, and his wink makes me melt.
The box of cookies he brings me at the end of the day, just because he knows I like them, is much sweeter than any diamond he could ever find.
When I laugh I want him there and when I'm sad it is him that I want to comfort me. I want him there to share the joys and triumphs, the disappointments and pain.
I want his hand around mine and I want my head to find that perfect spot on his shoulder.
The best part is that he is still, after all of this time, and to be completely honest even more now, my best friend that I was lucky enough to fall in love with.


Even better than that is the fact that rather than look at my crush for him and turn to my friend instead, he turned to me and said "I do."



Happy Birthday baby. I don't really know why you love me, but I'm sure glad you do. I love you more!

Life Alert Please

Littlest Little has his own littlest language which at times stumps me and even the most experienced of interpreters (Middle Little). It took me thirty or so minutes and a final pat on my legs the other night to realize that "seaewap" means "sit on your lap". He will gingerly walk into the kitchen and ask,"Wha' doin Momma?".
"Emptying the trash baby, what are you doing?"
"I doin' fine".
This conversation happens often and I love it. It makes me laugh each and every, I even provoke it sometimes.
A few days ago he walked into my room and was doing some kind of swirly thing with his arms. I smiled at him and he announced that he has "supowers"(Superpowers).
"Awesome", I said, realizing that his hands were in a flying motion and the sound he was making was that of the wind blowing by.
"You ha' supowers too mommy!"
"I do? Yeah! What are they?"
"You get cheese down."
Perfect, I thought. I'll take any superpower I can get at this point. Middle Little thinks it's pretty cool that I know how to disassemble the vacuum to remove clogs. I was deemed even cooler when I fixed his bicycle tire the other day all by myself.
Yesterday we woke up to more rain and so a morning inside was deemed necessary. I decided that with most of my early summer work done...
Start potty training......Check
Get the kids through end of year testing.........Check
Garden.............check.
Spring cleaning.....check
Littlest's birthday...check
...I decided to take down my spring decorating and put out the summer stuff. I love to change things around. It breathes new air into the house and it's kinda fun to watch the family look around to make sure they walked into the right place.
I realized that one dreaded task was way past due. I really needed to clean out the floor vents. It's a nasty job, someones got to do it and since I don't see any hands raised... I started by removing all of the vent covers and placed them into the sink to soak. Now, knowing myself very well, and knowing the fact the even though I was named for a ballerina, I was not named Grace, I thought it best to cover each hole in the floor with a chair. My superpowers have their limit you see. There are certain things I just won't do when alone with the little man. I don't climb up into the garden when no one is within shouting distance. I don't snow ski, or roller skate. Seriously if I have heard a story of anyone getting hurt doing something it is crossed of the list. I don't mow the lawn because I know a guy who cut off the larger majority of his toes once. He was all by himself and had to drive a stick shift truck to the E.R.. I also know a lady who lay in the rain for a number of hours until her daughter got home because she had broken her ankle while mowing her lawn. If it has happened to one person it might stay, two people it's gone. It's not that I live in fear and therefore base my life goals on said fear, it's just that if it isn't on my bucket list and it could cause harm off it goes. I just know my limits, and they include the fact that baths are hard to give and take with a cast on one arm, and if I break my right leg driving is out. I keep my cell in my pocket if I am climbing on anything or going into the boys closet alone. I try to be careful as the fear of getting stuck and having to holler for help or worse having to send Littlest off to the neighbors for assistance, is daunting. He would have to pass the trampoline and I'm pretty sure it would win out over his poor helpless mother. Anywhoo, I cleaned out the vent holes, and decided that it might be safe to climb up on the piano to remove the pictures from the wall and swap them out. All went well and I was sure I was in the safe zone. My supowers were indeed in working order. I was way too confident. I scrubbed the vent covers and moved all of the chairs back into place, when something caught my eye. I am most definitely one of those people who should wear the pin that says,"I don't have ADD, I just, ooh look something shiny." I decided that my corner cabinet would look pretty with a green ribbon hanging from the door pull. Forgetting where I was and that there were holes in the floor, I headed to the corner. Now it all happened so fast that I'm not completely sure of the details, but it went something like this. In slow motion of course, in a split second that felt like eternity.
"Oh my goodness where am I going. Has the earth opened and I am now on a journey into the center? Oh holy goodness. Little, tell everyone I love them. Go get help. Ahhhh. Oh I am such a goner. How am I still falling. Oh Littlest's new bike, maybe I can catch myself. Oh that hurt, not a good idea. How am I still falling. Thud. Ok now how do I get out. Whoo, is anything broken. ok. no blood. Littlest why are you just standing there, and why is there a smile on your face. Kick in your superpowers and save your mommy."
Now all of that happened in the most split of seconds as I said and yet it took me fully three hours to remember why I was headed into the corner in the first place. I still can't find the ribbon. Littlest little watched and asked his usual "Wha' doing mommy".
"Oh nothing honey, just hanging out in the floor,"I thought to myself. I think there was a slight giggle in there as well. To be completely honest I can't blame him as I most likely would have laughed had I seen someone else do what I had just done. I thought of myself half draped over the new Thomas bike, one foot in the bowels of hell and the other on carpeted floor. I pulled myself out and looked myself over. No blood or bones protruding, all fingers and toes in place, just the faint sight of blue slowly creeping up various parts of my body. Thankfully, other than bruises that I found randomly throughout the afternoon, I am fine.
It is a good story, that of the likes of some of my Dad's. With his permission I will tell some at another time. They are good, but to be honest they are a thousand times better when told in front of my Grandmother, who laughs until she cries every time they are told. Just the sight of her laughing like that will fill your heart with enough joy to last a good long while. I am honestly happy to carry on the family tradition, of not only getting hurt, but of getting hurt in the most bizarre and amusing situations.
I did learn a valuable lesson through pain. I already knew not to do anything too dangerous while alone with a three year old and I can honestly say that walking through the living room shouldn't need to be on the list. You see, last weekend my father in law fell in his yard. My husband and others laughed and teased, not because he fell, but because he wouldn't let my Mother in law get help from the neighbors. While I didn't laugh at the fall, I did when I was told the stories of the teasing and suggestions that they may need to purchase Life Alert for him. I'm honestly not sure why I was chosen but I think that possibly it was Karma that led me across the living room to my demise and when I was in just the right place it reached up, grabbed my ankle and tried to pull me into the heating duct. No matter what the reason I have learned my lesson and you bet I will be there wielding my hammer when we make the ramp for my Father in law. Don't be worried, either way. You see, my superpowers usually work well with tools, and if they kick out by some chance that day, you will surely get to hear the story.

A little icing can be a good thing

It has been a good week. My Spring cleaning is all done, with the exception of my husbands office, (he has forbidden me to touch it even with my begging and promises that I would not touch his ball cards), and our two year old carpet.( By two year old carpet, I do not mean that we installed it two years ago, but rather it is badly stained by my two year old, causing me to truly believe it might be better burned than cleaned.) I have done my best to struggle through the driving and new relationship in my daughters life with poise and even excitement for her. I did not receive a call from my Middle Little's Assistant Principal to explain that he had been involved in another "incident", which is good for me and even better for him. He is settling well into his grounding and I think has even realized that just because he can't watch television does not mean that I have to be his entertainment. My sweet boy is returning to me after our conversation about the fact that just because he is getting older, does not mean that he has to lose his sweet, tender side. My Littlest Little has finally taken interest in the potty. That's the big one. I knew not to push him towards it. Potty training is one of those things that children have to come to at least half-way on their own or it just isn't going to happen. Every now and then I would ask him if he would like to try. Most times his response was a quick and short "Nope". My plan through the winter was that as soon as the weather turned and stayed warm, I would just strip him down and let him have a few days of outside nudity so that he could see just how fun the no diaper life might be. As the temperatures have stayed up, I decided on Friday to ask once again if he would like to use the potty. You would have thought that I had just received news of the President coming to visit, had you seen my excitement. I stripped him down, got the potty out of the closet, and outside we went. He played while I built a new gate, to keep him in the safety of the play yard while allowing Middle Little to escape the bounds of the house to ride his bike without help.
I have to take a side step here for just a second. My babes are five and six years apart, assuring that they will always be at totally different stages and also assuring that I will be on my toes for a very long time. While Lady Little is off doing all of the things that come with High School life, and Middle Little is at a place where he wants to escape by himself once in a while, Littlest Little feels that he should have no boundaries at all and should escape any chance he can. We had a gate that was suitable for all of the little stages last summer. Lady little was big enough to step over the gate, and I could get Middle Little out while keeping Littlest Little inside without too much effort. This summer all has changed. Littlest Little has a need to try to escape at every chance, and even did once, causing my landlord/friend/adoptive family member, to announce that I might consider contacting Caesar Milan to come train him. Actually, while this was suggested I think it made him feel a little good that his tractor buddy escaped to him. Anywho, after building the new gate, with the full realization that some sort of locking mechanism would be needed, Middle Little and I headed to Home Depot, or as I like to refer to it, "heaven on earth", to find just the right thing. The first gentleman that offered help looked at me like I had two heads when I explained our need for something to lock and almost three year old in while allowing the nine year old to escape the confines of the play yard. Thankfully a second gentleman approached and when I explained our situation knew immediately what we needed. I'm not really sure if he had adventurous boys or if he has great knowledge in the fine motor skills of children at different ages, or maybe just days before he had helped someone else with exactly the same dilemma. No matter the reason we purchased exactly what we needed with an extra or two just to be on the safe side, and headed home. I am happy to announce that even with all of his efforts so far, there has been no escape.(knock on wood)
And so we began our Saturday with one boy naked and celebrating huge potty success. With the day beginning on that note I was at a stage of elation that only parents tired of changing diapers will know, the day as far as I thought, couldn't get better. I spent the morning cleaning and doing laundry while the kidlets played. My husband came home from his flea market expedition with surprises. He brought me two and a half flats of veggies to be planted in my new garden. The three Littles went off on an adventure with Nonie (my mom) leaving me with my plants and garden tools. Peace quiet and dirt. Surely it can't get any better than that, right? While my husband cherished the quiet and rest after and long work week and before another, I laced up my old dirty sneaks and spent 5 or 6 hours digging and planting and sweeping and watering. I even made friends with a rolie polie and an earth worm or two. Unfortunately, I didn't make friends with the sunblock I should have worn and as the sun was going down , the shade of color on my shoulders and back was going up. Just a minor hiccup in what seemed to be the perfect Saturday.
Surely the peace and quiet I had while the kids were having a fun adventure, and my husbands much deserved rest could not be topped, or so I thought.
I haven't ever needed to be "the cool mom". As long as my children were happy, well fed, and well behaved, I could put off cool. That being said if a little cool could be acquired I would gladly take it as an extra bonus.
As evening became night and a gentle rain began to water my newly expanded garden, I cleaned myself up and settled into an evening with my boys by my side and Lady Little off to have some private Nonie time. As I was fixing my dinner my phone rang. I love that my girl texts me just for fun, and the conversation that followed might just have been an extra layer of icing on the cake that was this glorious Saturday. We chatted back and forth for a bit about what movie they had picked out and how my shoulders were now hot pink. She suggested that I should put a signature on my phone. Those of you who receive texts from her know that she usually has a line or two at the end that you have no idea of the meaning or how it pertains to the convo you are having. That is her signature. I don't even know how to set one on my phone and so I responded that she would have to help me think one up. Her response was this.
"Something cheesy like Cool mom or garden knome."
Now yes, she did say cheesy, and again yes, she did spell gnome with a k, but she also, I think, suggested in her own way that I might just be a cool mom. Funny that something I never needed to hear or wanted to hear would actually make my Saturday one of the best ever.

Fins

Last fall I emailed my Dad to ask one simple question. How is it that yesterday, I dressed my little girl in a Winnie the Pooh jumper, tights and saddle oxfords. I brushed her corn silk colored hair, and packed her Elmo backpack. We climbed into the car and off we went for her first day of preschool. How is it then, that I woke up this morning and took her to her first day of high school. I don't remember his response exactly, but I think he asked back, how it was that his little girl was now married with three children of her own.
It is now rapidly approaching the end of the school year, which will make her a rising Sophomore. I know that tomorrow morning I will wake up, and dress myself. I will check the air in the tires and the oil, and will check to make sure that everything is bungied into the trunk. I will hand her a piece of paper with all of her emergency numbers. We will climb into the car and head off to take her to college.
For her, these are the days of boys and cars, adventures and new responsibilities, and the excitement of it all. For the adults who love her, these are the days of trying our best to be fair while allowing her freedom, protecting her and praying a lot. Folks we are in uncharted territory. Remember the Jimmy Buffet song "Fins"? "fins to the left, fins to the right". Yep, that pretty much sums up my state of mind.
It has all been stewing throughout the year. Little things here and there. Sleepovers and outings. A few months ago she tried out for her school production of Seussical. She won a part and our early Spring was filled with the sounds of her singing and dancing. I was excited for her and cautiously reminded her to try her best to keep her GPA up. It has been a long time since I have had to remind her to keep up with her homework. I came to the realization a few years ago, that with her, it is better to let set her own goals. She has proven herself time and time again. She sees a challenge, something new to take part in, sets the goal and reaches it all on her own. She went to each and every practice, no matter how long it was or how exhausted she became. She never once complained. During this time, she came home and announced that there would be a cast party. Of course it was after the final performance which made necessary a change in her regular curfew. In an effort to help, or so she thought, she announced that her friends brother was willing to take her and bring her home. It was all I could do to say that there was no chance in the world that she would be going to a High School party, chaperoned or not. She would absolutely not be getting into a car with a teenage driver. Nope, not a chance. In reality, however, she had earned the right to celebrate her accomplishment. She had put in hours and effort. She had kept her grades exactly where they needed to be. She deserved and had earned the chance to prove that she could take this new step and be responsible. I explained that she could go to the party, but as far as details were concerned she would have to allow me time to simmer.
In an effort to be fair and reasonable and even just a little bit to assure that I would not be the only bad guy, I consulted the hubs. "Honey", I began sweetly," There is a party after the last performance, and she wants to go and she wants to ride with a 17 year old boy."
If I had had a mirror in front of my own face, I'm sure my own grimace would have frightened me. Thankfully, my usually strong and well balanced hubby lost all color in his face and looked as if he might fall to the floor, making me feel quite a bit better about my own pained expression. "Um", he stammered," what would Pa do?", referring to my own Dad. He sat for a moment and then stood, reached for the phone and excused himself to find out just what Pa would suggest. As it turns out Pa would have said no, and then broken the poor 17 year old boy's legs so that he couldn't drive(not really but you know). I'm more than sure that more than a few ideas were vollied back and forth during this conversation that I was not privy to. Finally after much contemplation we came up with this. She could ride to the party with the boy and his sister. I would then pick her up at midnight. This seemed fair and reasonable, at least given the situation, and made both sides relatively happy.
Over the next few days we re-discussed the importance of wearing seat belts, making good decisions, and all of the other things that come to the mind of the parents of a sweet beautiful talented girl such as ours. The play went off without a hitch, and received a well deserved standing ovation. All worked out with the party and the ride, and at the end of the night my once little girl and I arrived home, none the worse, and quickly headed in the direction of our beds.
Around the same time of the play try outs, she came home and asked if she could take drivers ed. One side of me was just sure that she had to be 15 before she could take the class the other side of me simply hoped that she would have to be 18 or even 20, if I was really lucky. Sadly, neither side was correct, and so we signed her up. She went each Saturday for 5 weeks, and each time I would pick her up, she would go on and on about how she couldn't wait to get behind the wheel. Once again I was sure that she would have to wait for the Fall. Surely they don't let a 14 year old behind the wheel. Surely not. Please say it isn't so.
This past Monday, I received a text from my sweet punkin' on her bus ride home from school. She had exciting news. I couldn't wait for her to arrive home, not having any idea what the excitement was about. I watched her face as she walked throughout the door, whatever it was it was good.
" Guess what I did today", she asked, and without time for me to ask a single question she blurted," I drove, and I have a new boyfriend".
Do you remember the scene from "Father of the Bride" , where he listens as the little girl with pigtails announces that she has, "Met a man and he is wonderful and brilliant and we're getting married"? Yep that's pretty much how it went down. My precious silken haired girl in her Winnie the pooh jumper and saddle oxfords just announced to me that not only was she a road warrior but there was a boy thrown in for dramatic effect. I tried my best to be excited for her. These are exciting times full of new curves in the road of life. Even as I told her of my excitement for her, my eyes burned with small tears and my heart sank a little.
When my man came home, I decided that it might come better from her, partly because the words were stuck somewhere in my throat. Once again I saw his face go pale. "Do you want me to get your phone and dial Pa for you?", I asked.
These next few years will be packed full of moments like this, I am sure. There will be many prayers, many pale faces, most likely a tear here and there. There will be many more conversations between the men in my life, about whose legs to break. Hopefully she will come through without too many scars on her heart or body. Hopefully we will make it through unscathed as well, because I am pretty sure that a few mornings from now I will wake up and my little girl in tights and a jumper will announce to us that she has met someone wonderful and brilliant and they are about to set off in a wonderful new direction. And not too far after that my beloved will receive a call from her beloved asking curfew advice for their sweet little one.
We will have many more conversations like this on our journey through parenting. I know that it will be different the each time, with each child. Life is truly a journey. There are curves and bends and hills before us. We try to be mindful of the street signs and potholes and we will defiantly be watching out for the 14 year old drivers in the cars with the "student driver" sign on the roof.