The Change

There’s no doubt becoming a parent changes who we are. It starts with the physical. It moves on to the emotional, the intellectual, and some days, the psychological. It changes our wardrobe, modifies our mood, and alters our ego. It reworks our plans, revises our priorities, and rearranges our schedules. It can correct our habits and mutate our mates. Quite honestly, becoming a parent transforms every facet of our lives entirely.

That said, I’m not sure why I found myself dumbfounded once again last week at the madness that has become my life as a mom. As I attempted the simple act of vacuuming the family car, I was reminded of yet another change that parenthood brings: the apparent disappearance of personal ownership.

Nothing is this world is really just mine. Nothing is exclusive, and no place is sacred once we become parents. This could not have been made more evident to me as I discovered, one item at a time, the random hodgepodge of garbage that has been hiding in what I used to consider my vehicle.

Starting with the obvious--I found baseballs of every kind: new, old, squishy, hard, with covers, and without. There were eight in all. Add to that two ball caps and two batting gloves and I’ve got a dozen pieces of equipment that will bail out any unprepared ball player in a pinch.

Next come the “Mommy Supplies”. These are the two things that if a mother dares to enter the car without, she’ll probably be stopping along the way to buy: food and drink. Yes, a misplaced bottle of Aquafina, a couple hundred crushed Gold Fish and countless strips of bread crust carelessly discarded from the edges of a year’s worth of PB&J sandwiches was enough to force me to rename my car the “Nissan Virus”.

The following set of items come under the heading “Just in Case”: an insane number of napkins; a one gallon ice cream tub filled with a half-dozen plastic sacks (i.e. barf bucket); a spare set of clothes; and a good switch.

The remaining items could be labeled nothing other than “Random and Ridiculous”: one coloring book; two dead flowers; an orange, plastic slinky, smashed and partially melted; and a whoopee cushion.

The coup de grace was finding a conglomeration of hues-green, red, yellow, and blue-all beautifully melted and settled nicely into the inside handle used to close the passenger-side door. The one item-other than music and money-that actually belongs to me? A strategically placed bottle of aspirin. In case of emergency.

While I’m not particularly surprised by any of my findings, what I am surprised about is my attitude toward them. Five years ago, all I’d have found hiding under my seat would have been a couple empty candy wrappers, a few pennies and a long lost tube of lipstick. I could have cleaned up my spilled cups of coffee much easier than the surprise buckets of car sickness our oldest often throws our way. But oh, the things I would have to give up: questions about the moon and the stars, brothers giggling and singing and carrying on in the back, and little boys begging to be unbuckled because they want to be held by their momma as they fall asleep to the hum of the road and an old Merle Haggard tune.

Yes, becoming a parent changes who we are. And I couldn’t be more grateful.

And that’s All in a day’s work!

Just a little Q and A

Brisco, at 8 a.m.: Mom, can I have a popsicle?
Me: Brisco, it’s 8 a.m.

Brisco: Mom, when you loose all your teeth, will you die?
Me: No.
Brisco: Will you get new teeth?
Me: Yes.
Brisco: Will you die when you are, like, a hundred?
Me: Probably.

Cooper, looking at my sleeveless, under arm during worship services, and with huge eyes says: What’s that white stuff?
Me, trying not to let him see me smile: That’s so I don’t sweat and stink.

Brisco, at 9 a.m.: Mom, can I have a popsicle yet?
Me: Are you serious?

Brisco, while watching me make oatmeal: Why does that pan of water make that noise?
Me: Because the water is getting hot.
Brisco: Why is it getting hot?
Me. Because it is going to cook the oats.
Brisco: Why are there tiny bubbles in the water?
Me: The water is getting ready to boil.
Brisco: What is boil?
Me. Big bubbles that will melt your face off.
Brisco: There’s the big bubbles, Mom. Can I pour the stuff in?
Me. Not a chance. But you can help me stir.
Brisco: Aw, just give me a spoon. I’ll eat the oats right outa the box.

Cooper, with a huge grin, the next time we are sitting in worship service: Hey Mom, remember that white stuff?

Brisco, at 9:30 a.m.: Mom, may I please have a popsicle yet?
Me: It’s 9:30 in the morning. When you get up and do something that makes you sweat, you can have a popsicle.

Cooper: Is Joe going to the major leagues?
Me: Are you talking about Daddy’s Joe?
Cooper: Yes. Is he going to the major leagues since he finished high school?
Me: Well, first you usually go to college, unless you’re really, really good, like Jeter.
Cooper: Well, I wanna go to OU. Then I’ll go to the Yankees.

Brisco: Mom, can we get a cat?
Me: Absolutely not.
Brisco: (Indignantly) Fine. But when you die, I’m getting a cat!
Me: You go right ahead.

Brisco: Mom, did you know baby Caleb drinks milk from Aunt Rhetta’s shirt?
Me: Really? Wow.
Brisco: You need to get you one of those shirts!
Me: Here. Have a popsicle.

And that’s All in a day’s work!

Making memories

On Memorial Day weekend, we enjoyed a trip to Duncan to visit Grandma and Granddaddy Smith. And as luck would have it, all eight of the Smith kids had made the same plans: to enjoy a day or two at home with the family-swimming, cooking out, and spending time together.

With all of Randy’s brothers and sisters visiting, and all but one of the 11 grandkids present, it was a moment that doesn’t happen too often in a large family: having everyone back at home at the same time. It makes for a full house, a constantly-running dish washer, and a crazy bunch of kids. But it also makes great memories.

At seven, Tyler is the oldest of the grandchildren. He’s the most loved and the ring leader of the grandkids. He’s smart and brave and the most acrobatic child I’ve ever met. I just know one of these days Cooper is going to break a bone trying to climb a tree as high as his big cousin Tyler.

Mattie is the second oldest at six. She’s daring and dramatic and isn’t afraid to get dirty. Give this girl a pile of dirt and a water hose and she’ll take a head-to-toe mud bath that will have her skin healthier than any supermodel in six states. Just don’t talk her into trying to pull a loose tooth till it’s ready. Her screams could wake the dead.

Cooper comes next at five and a half. He’s the child who just wants to have fun, like all the other cousins, jumping on the trampoline or running through the yard in his bare feet. Unfortunately, he’s stuck with the mother that drags him off the trampoline every time he gets on, and forces him to wear shoes whenever he goes outside. You wouldn’t believe the size of the pine needles in southern Oklahoma.

Haley was the only cousin missing from our holiday weekend. She just turned five, and she falls in with the three older kids just fine. Don’t let anyone tell her she’s too little to do something, cause she’ll try it anyway, and most likely be the best of the bunch. She’s the closest thing to a twin Cooper will ever have, and we all missed seeing her last weekend.

Next come the killer B’s: Brady and Brisco. They are both four years old, only six weeks apart. They share a closeness that all parents wish for their children to find in a friend. Brady is sweet and shy and a stickler for the rules. Brisco is decidedly his polar opposite; but the two of them love one another as if they were the same. They were a powerful force in the pool this weekend, bombing aunt Becca from every angle.

Joe is number seven; he’ll be four in October. He’s a true adventurer. He has been found on top of stoves and underneath porches; there is nothing this boy is afraid of. He has a smile and a laugh that will knock your socks off. Unfortunately, for him, he knocked the top off of a hornet’s nest this weekend, suffering a bite or two around the neck. Of course that didn’t keep him down long. I could swear those were his little buns I found on my camera card when I got home on Monday night.

Aubrey is three, and the oldest of the trifecta of little girls who come next. She is a princess and a beauty queen, and a new big sister. She swims like a fish and her easy, golden tan is the envy of all of her aunties. Mollie and Jenna are the last girls in the bunch. At two and a half and almost two, these three girls together can clean out a toy box and make an hour of dress up seem like a trip to Macy’s.

Little baby Caleb is the newest of our crew. At seven weeks old, he definitely stole the show, giving all the aunts and grandmas a sweet reminder of how small and snuggly our little monsters used to be.

Whether it was roasting marshmallows, playing in the tent, or finding “poo” in the pool, you can bet the weekend with the cousins created lasting memories for everyone in our family, and brought a lifetime of recollections back to both sets of grandparents who were present.

How time does fly when we’re raising kids. It must have seemed like only yesterday that the grandparents were making biscuits and gravy for their own children, or enjoying a cool, summer evening on the back porch, under a blanket of stars, singing and laughing and enjoying just being together.

Yes, time moves too quickly, but thank goodness for long, holiday weekends and for big families who are able and adept at creating memories that last.

And that’s All in a day’s work!