parenting – Page 2 – Angel Wheeler

1st Lost Tooth Chronicles

I’m almost certain my daughter’s front bottom tooth was flopping around in her mouth longer than 5 year old’s teeth are supposed to flop. Seriously, I lost track of time, but it began to wiggle weeks ago, months even. We predicted when it would come out, yet all predictions, Thanksgiving, and Christmas passed. Still the tooth hung in. Lingering.

At Christmas time, her uncle peered in and noticed her new tooth was growing in behind it. “Let’s pull it.” We pleaded. “No!” she protested.

Days passed, weeks passed, still it hung in. She hung tight. We hung on.

Worry reared its head. What if something is wrong?

I had to search The Google, as this was unlike anything I’d heard of. Of course, I was reassured that it is common for a tooth to grow behind, and is coined shark teeth. I was reassured that the tooth will come out, and only in some cases, a dentist visit would be required.

“Let’s pull it,” we pleaded. “No!” she protested.

Days and weeks passed. I noticed she started taking bites with her side teeth rather than her front. The tooth began to flop. It noticeably moved when she talked. A gap began to grow.

Tuesday, she ran to the car from the bus stop yelling about how she lost her tooth. Around her neck was a string and a plastic tooth that unhinged and opened up. A tooth locket. The school had given her this necklace to store her treasured tooth. However, she literally lost her tooth. She said it’s somewhere in the gym. Naturally, she had a bit of a crying jag at school about it, but she was going to write the tooth fairy a note, to make sure she knew.

She said she hoped the tooth fairy gives her a dollar and 3 pennies. I said that was a pretty good deal, considering there’s no real tooth for the fairy to have.

These are the memories I will cherish. Gappy smiles. Snaggle-toothed grins. Tooth fairy magic. Wonderment. Innocence and a buck o three.

Halloween 2017

My 5 year old had her heart set on a Halloween costume that she found in a catalog chock full of high end costumes that she had discovered from my mom’s house. The costume was a leopard with all the fanciness you can handle with a full twirly black skirt, faux fur gloves to the elbow, and spotted ears. Of course, it cost a small fortune. I dare wager a kidney transplant might be cheaper. I kicked my honed parenting skills into high gear and attempted a persuasion technique where I could distract her by finding a much cheaper version of pretty much the same costume. I’m dealing with a five year old, this shouldn’t be hard.

I failed.

No other leopard costume that we searched out would suffice. It had to be this one and only this one. I might have to take out a loan, but by gosh this was the costume. I dragged my feet for a couple of days. By the time I logged back in to place the order, lo and behold, it was sold out.

What to do, what to do? Surely another costume will work since there’s just no way around this problem, so I tried my persuasion technique again, searching the inter web high and low for suitable substitutions to no avail. I was only greeted with crocodile tears and a stubborn streak a mile wide. Nothing else would do. No other costume on the planet was as good as that one. She only ever wanted to be this leopard. Only this one with the full twirly black skirt, faux fur gloves to the elbow, and spotted ears. So I did everything in my power.

I contacted the company: Will you be getting item #34756389 in stock in a size 5 before Halloween?
The answer was no.

What to do? What to do? She would just have to face the music. The costume was not to be had. Disappointments are part of life, she had better learn to deal with them now, right? When she was told we would have to find another costume, more tears ensued.
At this point, I was a bit exasperated. I advanced my parenting skills from persuasion to guilt. It sounded something like, Do you have any idea how ungrateful you’re being? Do you know there are children out there who would love to get a new costume? Or to even get to go trick or treating? To dress up as anything even remotely interesting? And here you are, with a play room full of princess dresses, and various and a sundry other accessories and yet all you want is this one and only danged old leopard costume. Do you see how spoiled your acting?

Tears and more tears. No other costume would do, it was decided. It was this costume. It had to be this costume. The one that was sold out and wasn’t coming back.
What to do, what to do? I’m no rookie. At this point, I upped my ante of parenting skills and decided to throw in a little reverse psychology. It sounded something like, Well then fine, you can just not go trick or treating. You can just stay home and hand out candy.

This technique blew up right in my face when through her big old tears, she said that was just fine with her.

I should have quit right there. I should have waved the white flag. But she comes by her stubborn streak honestly. I couldn’t in good conscience allow her to stay home and not trick or treat when she is only five years old! They grow up so fast. Trick or treating and costumes are such a blink in time. The mommy guilt reared it’s ugly head full force. I took a deep breath, let some days pass, and suggested we should look on Pinterest for a costume idea. Good ol’ Pinterest. She agreed to this idea. We pulled up Halloween costumes and she found one she wanted. The Poop Emoji.

Yes, poop. My dear little, beautiful, darling daughter wanted to dress up as a pile of crap. I said how about a smiley? How about a winkie face? How about a unicorn? No. None of those would do. It was this costume. It had to be this costume. It had to be a poop emoji.

It took some doing, but we got it done. A shirt, a little brown tulle, and wa-lah! She was the gosh darned cutest turd I’ve ever seen. She won second place in her school’s costume contest for most original Costume and she was a hit among those who were savvy enough to know what she was. We trunk or treated and trick or treated until she said she’d had enough. We turned on the light and she handed out candy for a few straggling kids.

I held her in my lap when the day was done, candy wrappers strewn, costume in a wad on the floor, chocolate on her face. You’ve had a good day. I told her. You had a great costume too. And wasn’t it better than that danged old Leopard costume?

She looked at me and said, “I had forgotten all about that!!”

That’s when I cried. Tears and more tears.

She’s already decided on next year’s costume. And it’s not a dangled old Leopard either. So make sure you stop by my house, because after this experience, this little turd will be home handing out candy.

1 year down, 13 more to go

My baby girl, my only child has completed her Pre-K year. I couldn’t be more proud of her.

I know, I know, it’s a little silly when you think about being proud of completing pre-k, right? It’s not like she wrote research papers or received an associate degree while taking high school classes or worked a part-time job and maintained the A Honor Roll, or that she’s off to some Ivy League School. Like what did she really do that I should be so proud? Well, I’ll tell you what she did first and foremost. She blossomed! She blossomed and learned in so many different areas! That’s why I’m proud.

Just look at those pictures! Just look at them.

You might not be able to tell, but she grew an inch and gained 5 pounds too!

The little buttercup went from being mostly shy and timid to outgoing and confident. Granted, she still gets a little nervous talking to people, but at least she’s not hiding behind my legs anymore. As much, anyway. That’s why I’m proud.

Of course she learned lots of academic type of things. She can read several words and a few little books, she has great number sense, and a lot of common sense as well. She tries her best at everything she does and wants to succeed. She is responsible and superb! That’s why I’m proud.

She also did big 5-year-old things this year, like learning to tie her shoes and fix her own hair, which might look a fright most of the time, but she does it herself and her independence and self-confidence is more important in the big scheme of things than a perfect hair-do. She also decided that she can put herself to bed and sleep alone. But every 4th night, I can still sleep with her. She’s growing up independent and confident. That’s why I’m proud.

She worked so hard in both her dance and gymnastics classes and more importantly had fun doing it. She can swing herself on the swings with just one push to get her started, and cross the monkey bars by herself. She is learning that hard work pays off and practice does make almost-perfect. She is learning that things may be hard at first, but not to give up, keep on trying and eventually you’ll get there. That’s why I’m proud.

She is good and kind and thoughtful which is the most important aspects I would like her to develop in her years of learning. I want her to know that it is better to be a friend to someone who needs one, than to fit in with the “in-crowd”. I want her to know that not everything is going to come easy, but she’ll never be disappointed in herself for knowing she gave it her all. She learned more this year of the important stuff than she might learn her entire academic career. Her foundation is laid.

These next 13 years are going to fly by. I know that all too well. It may be that some day she’ll be off to an Ivy League School, or maybe she’ll backpack across Europe. As long as she stays true to herself and discovers happiness in her journeys is my heart’s desire for her. It may seem silly to you that I write these milestones down, but I know my memories won’t always be as clear and I want to remember it all: every little accomplishment, every single stepping stone on her path to wherever she is heading.

She is such a joy, and I am so very proud to call her mine.

Mother’s Day #5

I’m a bit of a creature of habit. Just a bit. Not too much. Only when I want to be, really. But I do have a little tradition of blogging on certain celebratory occasions. My daughter’s b-day and Mother’s Day are the only 2 I really think of right now. Most of the time, this little blog is a ball of random. When the whim hits. Which hasn’t been hitting much lately.

Sunday past was Mother’s Day. My fifth one. I’m not sure words can describe motherhood. There have been many people who have tried to put the words down, including myself. I think one of the best I’ve ever read is: #motherhood:

How true.

Motherhood is complete sacrifice, even when you adore pie.
Motherhood is seeing the tiniest, most minuscule, grain-of-sand-sized love God has for us.
Motherhood is a heart that is both broken and full to bursting often at the same time.
Motherhood is worry.
Motherhood is joy.
Motherhood is an exhaustion beyond what you ever thought possible.
Motherhood is sticky fingers and sweet kisses.
Motherhood is a million “I love yous” and a few teenage “I hate yous”.
Motherhood is handmade cards.
Motherhood is lots of laughs and plenty of tears from all parties involved.
Motherhood is eating lots of spaghetti.
Motherhood is late nights and early mornings and feet in your ribs when sleep does come.
Motherhood is thankless mostly, but worth every moment.

This Mother’s Day I was showered with little gifts. Gifts that will be put away in the bin with the other sweet gifts I’ve been given and the ones hopefully to come.

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18447353_10213478050932513_4614352799574924184_n Each moment is a true gift. A treasure to hold. Time passes so quickly. For some, motherhood never happens or sadly ends too soon.

My little daughter came into my life unexpectedly and the emotions I went through were paramount. We are tight. This girl and I. We have a bond right now that I hope will outlast all the growing pains we still have to endure. The past five years have flown by, and I know the next 13 will zip past. And then she’ll soar on the wings that her dad and I have hopefully helped give her. So for now, I cherish every Eskimo kiss, every hug, every stick figure drawing stuck to the fridge, and even every melt down.

Every beautiful moment of motherhood for the past five years I have tried to store away, either in my memories or in this blog. I have been given such a remarkable little girl and I am so honored to be her mom.

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A Daughter’s Love

Last night, way past a normal bedtime for a 5 year old, my little EK and I were snuggling in. Saying our prayers and our I love yous. When suddenly she said, “I’m probably going to forget you when I grow up.” Why, I asked. Why would you forget me? She answered because she would be all grown up. I tried to explain to her that girls don’t forget their mothers, while believing this with all my heart, but also hopefully convincing her that she wouldn’t forget me, that she couldn’t forget me. My momma heart felt a moment of fear and heartache at the thought that my time with her was limited, that some day it would end. Which of course it will, but not by forgetting. Never by forgetting.

In my convincing, I tried to explain in the best way I could that I’m all grown up and I haven’t forgotten my mom and even my mom hasn’t forgotten her mom. And I desperately explained how when she was all grown up we would talk on the phone and visit one another if she moved away. That we could text on cell phones and take trips together. My mind was a flurry of all the grown up things we will do. In my vision, I was hanging on to her grown up self by a thread, knowing that it could so easily snap in an instant with her own life, her husband, her family, her busyness.

We were lying on our sides in an embrace, our noses practically touching. She said if she lived next door, I could just come over and visit. That thought gave me some relief. Yes, next door. That sounds wonderful. Then I said what all mom’s say at some time to their sweet preschoolers, yet to become tumultuous, unruly teenagers. “And you don’t ever have to move out, anyway. You can live with me forever.” I’m sure some day I will try to cram these words back down my throat, claiming I’ve never uttered them. But for now, the thought of her leaving, even to live next door is more than I can handle.

Then that sweet girl, with her big brown eyes, and her little mind that works all the time said. “And when you die, I’ll bury you in my front yard, so I can visit you all the time.”

I didn’t even know how to react to this. It is at the same time both very loving and yet bizarrely disturbing. So we said our good nights and our I love yous and I realized once again how immense love is.

A Letter To My Daughter On Her 5th Birthday

I can’t help but wonder if all mothers cry when their baby turns five years old? As soon as my eyes opened, I began to think of you. Not that that’s anything new. You are always the first thought to cross my mind. And as a sidenote, you will always be the first thought to cross my mind, no matter how old you are, no matter how far from me you travel. I think Willie Nelson sang a song along those same lines.

I couldn’t stop the tears this morning. And all through the day, I’ve fought to keep them at bay.

Five years. Five beautiful, wonderful years. They have been the most precious, most blessed times of my life. And that is saying quite a lot, sweet Emma Kate, because my life has been pretty marvelous. But when you entered the world, it went to a brand new level.

I don’t know the answers to all life’s questions. I certainly don’t know much at all. But I know that you have allowed me and taught me to love in a way that never seemed possible. Sure, we have our ups and downs. Life isn’t always a bowl of cherries, but when you step back and look at the big picture, there’s definitely more ups than downs and more cherries than pits in our bowl.

You are such a good kid. You are so smart. I have written to you for the first 12 months of your life, and then every year after that. Someday, I will print these out for you to keep and reflect back on. Reading back through, you will know how absolutely, infinitely loved and adored you are.

You have a great memory. You love to play a game with you daddy and I, especially on car rides, called “Remember when…..”. You usually start and say, “remember when we…” and you’ll fill in the blank. Then we all take turns giving our own remember whens. Sometimes, we all remember, and sometimes we don’t. Sometimes, I’m purely amazed at the things you remember from long, long ago. It’s also kind of sad when you don’t remember something that was pretty epic, so that’s one reason I write it down.

Because one day, my little lovebird, all you will be left with will be your memories. I want you to have good ones. Me and your dad are trying our hardest to give you an amazing childhood, but at the same time, being careful not to turn you into a brat. It’s a thin line to cross. Because sometimes giving your child everything is not the best, and someday you’ll understand that. It’s not about all the “things and stuff” in life, not the newest and greets, because those things always turn not so new, and not so great.

It’s about the “remember whens”. It’s about playing hide and go seek in the dark. It’s about birthday parties with family and friends, and adventures in the woods building forts, and hiking trails, and picking wildflowers. It’s about making play dough and playing dolls. It’s about lying in the yard and looking at the shapes in the clouds, or the stars at night. It’s about snuggles at bedtime and rocking chair time every morning with a blanket and chocolate milk and a warm,drowsy head on my chest. It’s about fishing at the lake, and swimming in a horse trough. It’s about dance parties through the house when our favorite song comes on, and sharing books together. It’s all the “remember when’s” that are too many to list.

It’s all about the time we’ve shared and the memories we’ve made.

You are growing into a great young girl. You are no longer an infant, no longer a baby, no longer a toddler, and pretty soon, you’ll no longer be a preschooler. You have learned so much. Most of your days are spent at St. Matthew’s where you’ve already learned to read 100 sight words. You are my little reader, but I always knew you would be. You understand numbers and how to put them together and take them apart. You also have a whole lot of dang common sense. You are practically perfect in every way. Much like Mary Poppins, huh?

Thank you Emma Kate for these last 5 years. They have been beyond my wildest imagination. I am so happy you’re mine. Someone posted on Facebook about you, that “God said ta-da”, and I think that sums it up perfectly. I love you oodles and gobs, and more, and more, and more.

Happy Birthday, my baby.

XOXO,

Mommy

What this day means to me

The calendar hanging on the wall reads May 20. But I don’t need the calendar to remind me. I’ve actually been thinking about this day all month. I’ve been thinking of this month all year. I couldn’t let this day slip past without an acknowledgment, because this day is pretty significant to me.

Today is the due date of my second child.
I have no crib set up.
There is no freshly painted nursery.
No hospital bag is packed and waiting by the door.
There is only a what if and a why.
There is only my thoughts of how different my life would be right now… if only.

I think of her a lot. I call her Ivy Quinn. I don’t know that she was a girl, she didn’t make it long enough to find out, but I have a hunch.

Physically, she was only a part of me for a few weeks, but she will be a part of me until I take my last breath. She was mine regardless. Her life ended, but mine continues. Her heart stopped beating, but mine beats on–even with a hole in it.

There is pain. There is heartache. There is something missing that was to be. Then suddenly wasn’t to be.

I never felt her kick or held her in my arms, but I hold her in my heart and I always will.

I wash dishes in a sink full of suds, but there is no baby bottle to rinse. I fold clothes and stack them in piles on the couch, but they are absent of tiny gowns.

I can’t help but feel guilty. All the ‘ifs’ haunt me. If I had only wanted her more? If my initial reaction hadn’t been one of inconvenience? Would it have made a difference. If only she had known how very much she would have been loved? If I hadn’t been so overcome with doubt, worry, and fear? Would it have mattered. If I had felt more excitement? If I had told more people?

We had a photo taken. It was clever and cute and we were going to announce it when the time was right. I hung it in our bedroom. We told our little Emma. She was so excited. Then I had to tell her the hardest thing I’ve had to tell her yet. She was quiet and then she said maybe the baby will come back later. Then nothing else was said. Ever. I put the photo away in a drawer.
Out of sight, but not out of mind.
Especially today.
On May 20.
The due date of my second child.

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A Letter to EK on her 4th Birthday

My Dearest Emma Kate,

Happy Birthday dear one! Goodness. I just can’t believe it. My heart overflows with love and gratitude for the absolute blessing you are in all of our lives. My words are truly inadequate to express my feelings and emotions. As I sit here, I try to think of what to say to you—and about you, and there’s not enough paper in all the world to sum up the little soul that you are.

You are good.
You are smart.
You are tender.
You are stubborn.
You are independent.
You are a bit melodramatic, and I honestly don’t have a clue how to deal with that.
You are a deep thinker.

Sometimes you’re even silly.

You are sensible, logical, and reasonable beyond your years. I seriously believe at age 4 you have more common sense than most grown-ups.

Your mind is an astonishing part of you. I know a lot of moms worry about their kids and the choices and impulses they act on, but I really don’t worry too much about you because you are so level headed and you make the right decisions even as a small child. You are the one telling the older ones what they need to be doing and not doing. You are the one keeping people in line and listening to instructions. Dear One, please always listen to others who lead you in the path of righteousness and not astray. Do not get caught up in this world and its enticements. Proverbs 1:8 says “Listen, my son (daughter), to your father’s instruction and do not forsake your mother’s teaching.” Be wise always Emma Kate. And know that the fear of the Lord is the beginning of all wisdom. You, my dear child, have the ability and the capability to do anything in this world, and I mean ANYTHING you put your mind and heart to, so please carry wisdom and discernment with you while you chase your dreams in this world.

I know you will make a difference. I know that because you already have. You have made a difference in my life. You have taught me to be better. You have shown me what is important and what is just fluff in this life. There have been days you alone have been my reason for being. My reason to wake, to rise, to live. I know that I am an example to you in all I say and do. Please know that I’m doing the absolute best I can.

This year has been one of transition for us. You and I have gone from spending every single waking moment of every single day together to learning how to be apart. You have become a school girl now and I have returned to being a working mama. Most of our days are spent in separate places, but let me tell you what we share.

Every morning you wake up after me. I usually have already gotten most of my stuff together so that I can pour you a cup of milk. You sit in my lap in the recliner and drink your milk and we have several minutes together to just snuggle. Your milk always makes you cold, so I wrap you in a blanket and hold you. You lay your head on my shoulder and we rock. We talk about the day and the events to come. You have a solid grasp on the days of the week and your schedule. You know that Friday is our day together and you usually can tell me how many more days until we don’t have to set an alarm.

Every evening, you and I still have story time. Two books. This is some of my favorite time with you and always has been. Gosh, we’ve read a thousand books together probably. You are already beginning to read and make sense of letters, sounds, words. We read our books and sometimes you laugh and sometimes you even cry. You are so tender and empathetic to the sweet characters. Like in the Library Lion when he isn’t allowed to come back to the Library because he broke a rule or in City Dog, Country Frog when the Frog is no longer there to meet his friend, you rub the tears away from your beautiful brown eyes and say “This part makes me sad”. After stories we pray, we sing, I rub your back or face until you sleep. Sometimes I’m grumpy and angry because I’m so tired and you are flopping around like a fish and won’t sleep. Of course I never did follow the parenting advice for getting your child to sleep so this is our routine. This is what works for us. And you know what, it’s okay. Because you’re only four and as I look back on the past four years, it has absolutely flown by and I wouldn’t trade those times I’ve spent with you in the quiet darkness as the day is ending for anything else in this world. This time is fleeting and no parenting book in the world will make me regret the moments we’ve snuggled.

You love to play dolls, princesses, and Barbies. You still play imagination and good vs. evil. Good wins. Always. Remember that.

You are watching entirely too much TV these days and are being totally brain washed by commercials! I’ve already had to have a little mini-lesson on advertisements and their schemes with you because you think we need to buy every item on the commercials, that Lysol kills the most germs, and that we need to send money to help poor kids get more books and save elephants from being poached for their ivory. Oh your sweet heart. Bless you my dear. I hope you are always so touched by life.

This morning your daddy and I woke you with a happy birthday song. You got to wear your new Birthday Girl t-shirt to school and took some cupcakes to share with your friends. Tonight we’ll celebrate with a presents, cupcakes, and a meal out. You’ve requested McDonalds (big surprise) and you want a sausage biscuit. I think that is pretty doable.

I love you Emma. You are more than I could ever imagine. Just always be you. You–complete in your perfect, imperfect self. Because there is nothing more you ever need to be. You are loved. You are loved. You are loved. Especially by your mama!

XOXO,

Mama