Seriously?

Every year I sew the boys' Halloween costumes. My mom made mine and I swore I would do the same for my children. It's definitely not about saving money - that's for sure. It's about making memories, and lots and lots of cuteness. However, since letting M take control over the great Halloween Costume Decision things have really gotten crazy.  

First, I have to take you back to the good ol' days, the days when I got to choose, and could stick to something I knew I could pull off. 

Remember this adorableness?

Okay, so I don't know if adorableness is actually a word, but it pretty much sums up my cutie-pie. Here's year two (mommy was still in charge)...

And then, the third Halloween, when I most reluctantly released control of the costume decision making. The year of the Dinosaur! And not just any dinosaur. A Stegosaurus. One whose plates had to be just so - and the spikes, just right! I had birthed a perfectionist, who insisted on complete accuracy - and it was rough!

2006 was Pirate year. A pirate Captain! I must admit I enjoyed making this one. I would have enjoyed it more if I wasn't caring for a brand new baby and a 3 year old all by myself, while trying to sew this fabulous costume, while my husband relaxed on vacation was tdy. But I digress.

We are all aware of M's deep, unshakeable love of Transformers. We all knew what was coming. I started my research early and together M & I came up with this!  I'm pretty sure it almost killed me. We're talking multiple prototypes, duct tape, spray paint and of course, sewing.  I was working late into the night on October 30th. Certainly nothing could ever be as difficult as this one...

And now...this????

Wha? Sonic the Hedgehog? You mean, the blue guy with spikes coming out the back of his head and along his back? 

Let me reiterate - Giant. Blue. Spikes. Coming out the back of his head!!!!!

Why does my son hate me? Why do I let him do this to me?

It's gotta be that adorableness thing...

He's using it against me.

Why are we doing this to our children?

At Kiddie Disco they play this terrible, awful game called Pass the Present. All of the kids are forced to sit in a circle and pass around 2 or so presents while the music plays. When the music stops the child is then forced to pass the present one more time and watch their neighbor remove one layer of wrapping paper. Then the music starts again. This goes on and on until the present is finally revealed and "won" by the child who removed the last layer of paper. They do this twice in 3 hours. It's a good "lesson" for the kids the DJ says.

That, along with Bingo and two rounds of musical chairs had T and me wondering, "Where is the play? Where is the fun?" All I saw was competition - and a whole lot of losing. 

Why are we forcing disappointment and loss on our kids in order to educate them? Does life itself not provide enough of that on its own? Rejection, loss, failure, embarrassment - it's on the playground, in our homes, in our heads. It will find our children, that is something we can be certain of.

Whatever happened to just running, playing, dancing? Freedom. Innocence. 

Whatever happened to living life - and learning from it? I know in M & L's future there will be plenty of sitting. There will be plenty of waiting their turn. There will be plenty of working hard for something they want and not getting it. There will be plenty of pain, hurt, and tears.

I am not trying to shelter my children from any of that.

It's just...the sweet, true bliss of childhood is so brief. And I don't know, maybe we're all trying to prepare our children for that simple fact. One day they will have to grow up. 

But in doing that, doesn't anyone see...

We're rushing it.

L turns 2!

Amen! You said it sister! Or brother! Or whoever!

"Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well-preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand, cocktail in the other, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming, 'Woo Hoo, what a ride!'" -unknown

I saw this quote again today, I'm sure I saw it first at D Street Mercantile or something like that. But at second glance, a little older and more used up than I was in the days I could roam through D St. Merc. without screaming, "Stop! Don't touch that!" a thousand times, the days when I actually had enough time to stop and read something with that many words on it, it means so much more...

M. says... (quotes from my 5 year old)

"How come everything that's good for you tastes, like, not so good, and everything that is bad for you tastes... delicious?"

Thank you, Rebekah.

Around 6 years ago, at my baby shower, we passed around a journal for all the women I love and admire to share their parenting wisdom. There were a lot of things that moved me, but today I'll write about just one. My lovely cousin-in-law, from the perspective of a daughter with wonderful parents, wrote something I hold dear to my heart. I wish I could quote it directly for you because she writes so beautifully but I have the journal tucked away in storage, stateside. Summed up, she said one of the things most important to her while growing up is that her mother stayed home with them, and was always there when she needed her.

People can argue the working mom/stay-at-home mom issue until they're blue in the face, pass out from lack of oxygen and eventually die from sheer frustration. It's a hot-button issue that's best to avoid, lest you face the wrath of a mom in defense of how she raises her children. Between the guilt and the love, the shame and the pride, we walk a razor thin emotional line.

My mom, and most of my family, always said I would grow up to "be somebody" -that I was so bright, so creative, really "going places." And then, well, I didn't go much farther than they did really. Yes, I've lived in and experienced two amazing countries, but that's just geography. When I see my friends and old classmates successful and happy in their careers I begin to question my decision.

Did I fail? 

Then, there are Rebekah's words. 

And I am so grateful for those words because this week my beautiful, funny, smart, amazing 5 year old ditched me forever started kindergarten.

The last five and a half years have defined me more as a person and a woman than I could have ever expected. And they have been fun. Exhausting and fun. I am so glad I didn't miss a minute of him. 

There's always time for more college and a career later. 

And if there is no later, if there is no more time, I know for certain I have spent mine wisely. Because I did become somebody. I'm Mommy. 

It's the greatest title I'll ever have.