Describe one of your childhood birthdays. Compare it to your current birthday celebrations, what has stayed the same over time?
My parents threw a birthday party for me when I was six years old. For the life of me I can't remember a thing about it other than the parties and the streamers, and how lucky I felt for them actually doing it for me. This was something all the other kids got, not me. I wasn't lucky enough to ever have the proverbial new bike wheeled out for me, but I got the party. Once. Birthdays weren't really much back then and maybe that's why I am not a big birthday person now....except for with the kids, and then I tend to go overboard.
After dad passed away and I got older the presents from mom got larger---maybe it was because I was getting older, or maybe it was because she felt bad about not making much out of my earlier birthdays. She went all out for my 16th birthday and took a freind and I to the Smoky Mountains for a weekend get away. My childhood birthdays might not have been the stuff of dreams but 16 did it all, and was the consummate gift for birthday before or since.
I have tried to make sure that my kids have always gotten something they really wanted for their birthday, whether it be the gift or the way we celebrate it.
Kam will be 16 this year. I am hoping to plan something just as special for him on his 16th just like Mom did me. I am hoping to make that a tradition for our family.
Saturday, March 31, 2007
Fender Benders are Scary
So my fifteen year old son calls me at work........much like he does every day. Only today he called to report that he'd been in a minor car accident.
"Mom! Hey."
"Hi baby." At this point I usually wait to see what he's asking permission for. Although I didn't catch it until later, he usually calls me Mommy when he's wanting something or being affectionate.
"Hey. Um, Mom, I been in a car wreck."
Ok, that is NOT what I was wanting nor expecting to hear. This is the part of 'letting go' that I do not care for one bit.
He's talking to me so he obviously is OK, but I ask him anyway. He could be in the ambulance with a cell phone to his ear while paramedics work on a smashed leg............who knows.........moms get day-mares like this, you know. The floor drops out from underneath a mother and the whole world goes away while things like this are occurring to us.
"Yea Mom I'm good, we are all ok....this guy just slammed on his brakes and we bumped him. But I wanted to call you and tell you, and can you call the girls to tell them?"
So we finish talking and hang up. He calls back just a minute or two later telling me that since he's a minor I have to come and get him from the scene. They are in a local suburb near our home. When I get there, I'm expecting to see a car or two and a police officer. Unfortunately for me, the first thing I see is the ambulance in the middle of the road, lights flashing. Here goes another attack of the mother day-mare syndrome. I also see neighbors milling about, and I have to stop because one very old grandfather is trying to keep up with his 6 year old grandchild, whom he must be taking down the road to get a close-up view of all the action. The six year old is all over the place and I have to slow down to keep from hitting him. It's aggravating. I'm trying to get to my kid, after all, to make sure that he's not in that ambulance, despite what he told me over the phone. Kids DO lie on occasion, you know. There are several civilian vehicles parked all over the place, making it hard for me to find a place to park.
Then, mericifully, a gaggle of teens on a lawn comes onto view, along with three cop cars and all the bodies that go with them. My beautiful little boy is among them, laughing nervously about the puddle of red Slushie that now decorates his pants. However, he's a little pale, and when they get closer, I can tell immediately just by the look on their faces who was in the car. I'm assured by the officer that it was, in fact, all minor. He shows me the car they hit and explains that the man who got hit is being taken in the ambulance because he is complaining of neck pain. (Of course.) I guess I looked a little pale, myself, because he patted me on the back. The mother of the other two children in the care and I take a moment to talk and I take my sticky, shaken child home. And we talk. I don't lecture, I don't necessarily I-Told-You-So, but I want to make sure he learns a valuable lesson from the incident. I make sure he knows how lucky he is that this is the way he got his lesson instead of something much worse. Since it was relatively minor, I take the opportunity to explain car insurance, fault, and driving politics to my son. I pray that he gained more respect for a vehicle and the safety of others than he might have already had.
As with every other time it happens, I also pray that this is the last mother day-mare I have. Since my children are only half-grown, I don't think this is going to be the case. But, I can pray that they are never very serious, and that's the prayer that's most important.
"Mom! Hey."
"Hi baby." At this point I usually wait to see what he's asking permission for. Although I didn't catch it until later, he usually calls me Mommy when he's wanting something or being affectionate.
"Hey. Um, Mom, I been in a car wreck."
Ok, that is NOT what I was wanting nor expecting to hear. This is the part of 'letting go' that I do not care for one bit.
He's talking to me so he obviously is OK, but I ask him anyway. He could be in the ambulance with a cell phone to his ear while paramedics work on a smashed leg............who knows.........moms get day-mares like this, you know. The floor drops out from underneath a mother and the whole world goes away while things like this are occurring to us.
"Yea Mom I'm good, we are all ok....this guy just slammed on his brakes and we bumped him. But I wanted to call you and tell you, and can you call the girls to tell them?"
So we finish talking and hang up. He calls back just a minute or two later telling me that since he's a minor I have to come and get him from the scene. They are in a local suburb near our home. When I get there, I'm expecting to see a car or two and a police officer. Unfortunately for me, the first thing I see is the ambulance in the middle of the road, lights flashing. Here goes another attack of the mother day-mare syndrome. I also see neighbors milling about, and I have to stop because one very old grandfather is trying to keep up with his 6 year old grandchild, whom he must be taking down the road to get a close-up view of all the action. The six year old is all over the place and I have to slow down to keep from hitting him. It's aggravating. I'm trying to get to my kid, after all, to make sure that he's not in that ambulance, despite what he told me over the phone. Kids DO lie on occasion, you know. There are several civilian vehicles parked all over the place, making it hard for me to find a place to park.
Then, mericifully, a gaggle of teens on a lawn comes onto view, along with three cop cars and all the bodies that go with them. My beautiful little boy is among them, laughing nervously about the puddle of red Slushie that now decorates his pants. However, he's a little pale, and when they get closer, I can tell immediately just by the look on their faces who was in the car. I'm assured by the officer that it was, in fact, all minor. He shows me the car they hit and explains that the man who got hit is being taken in the ambulance because he is complaining of neck pain. (Of course.) I guess I looked a little pale, myself, because he patted me on the back. The mother of the other two children in the care and I take a moment to talk and I take my sticky, shaken child home. And we talk. I don't lecture, I don't necessarily I-Told-You-So, but I want to make sure he learns a valuable lesson from the incident. I make sure he knows how lucky he is that this is the way he got his lesson instead of something much worse. Since it was relatively minor, I take the opportunity to explain car insurance, fault, and driving politics to my son. I pray that he gained more respect for a vehicle and the safety of others than he might have already had.
As with every other time it happens, I also pray that this is the last mother day-mare I have. Since my children are only half-grown, I don't think this is going to be the case. But, I can pray that they are never very serious, and that's the prayer that's most important.
Four Leaf Clovers
Today while I was cooking dinner Ro comes in with a 'four leaf clover'. When I commented on it, she took one leaf away and rolled her eyes.
"There's no such thing!" she says.
Now as many times as we have perused the old photo albums, I know she has seen the laminated four leaf clover that I have. She doesn't remember it, so I tell her the story about how my mother's one-time fiance (the man she should have married, in my opinion) found the four leaf clover, and since my mom thought it was so special, he had it laminated for her.
"Yes, there really are four-leaf clovers, but they are very hard to find. You have to find the clover bed and look very, very carefully, and closely, at each and every one. If you hang on, I'll go out with you after dinner and we can take a look."
But she's impatient, and off she scampered back into the yard. I figured she'd be out there a good long while, and would probably come back in disgruntled. However, she come bounding back in about 20 minutes later, squealing with delight.
"Mommy! I FOUND ONE! I found a four-leaf CLOVER!!!!!!!"
And sure enough she had---she pushed a perfect four leaf clover at me---no fourth leaf held on by tiny fingers.
So tomorrow, laminate is on the list, so that I have another clover to add to the album.
"There's no such thing!" she says.
Now as many times as we have perused the old photo albums, I know she has seen the laminated four leaf clover that I have. She doesn't remember it, so I tell her the story about how my mother's one-time fiance (the man she should have married, in my opinion) found the four leaf clover, and since my mom thought it was so special, he had it laminated for her.
"Yes, there really are four-leaf clovers, but they are very hard to find. You have to find the clover bed and look very, very carefully, and closely, at each and every one. If you hang on, I'll go out with you after dinner and we can take a look."
But she's impatient, and off she scampered back into the yard. I figured she'd be out there a good long while, and would probably come back in disgruntled. However, she come bounding back in about 20 minutes later, squealing with delight.
"Mommy! I FOUND ONE! I found a four-leaf CLOVER!!!!!!!"
And sure enough she had---she pushed a perfect four leaf clover at me---no fourth leaf held on by tiny fingers.
So tomorrow, laminate is on the list, so that I have another clover to add to the album.
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