Skip to main content

Sister, When you Cry, I Feel your Tears Run Down my Face


I always try to be brutally and painfully honest here, so I won’t hold back this time.  I have a confession.  I am a control freak.  It is probably my single biggest flaw, because it manifests itself in horrible fits of anger, anxiety, and impatience.  I’m not good with things not going my way.  It is a true battle of faith for me that I struggle with every single day, but never more than when Pumpkin referred to me as “grumpy mama.”
Specifically we were joking about Hubby being grumpy and Pumpkin’s matter-of-fact response was, “Daddy doesn’t get grumpy, only mama is grumpy.” Well, that felt like a hundred well-deserved knives in my heart.  I do not want my children growing up with a grumpy mama, or one they think is grumpy. And how dare I be grumpy in light of my innumerable blessings each day.  My battle is now one for my children’s happiness. Ironically, it is a battle that I can only win by laying my shield and my sword before God and surrendering to him. The hardest battle I have ever fought and the most precious prize on the line.

I vowed that day not to be “grumpy mama” anymore.  I vowed to them, out loud, right there at the dinner table.  They have been faithful in keeping me accountable.  Unfortunately, now even when I am legitimately frustrated or needing to discipline, Pumpkin’s sweet little voice asks “I thought you weren’t going to be grumpy mama anymore?”  It’s like I have my own live-in probation officer insuring that I am keeping up my end of the bargain.

Even with a few grumps, we had a wonderful weekend. I took the girls back-to-school shopping yesterday, with Pumpkin dressed from head-to-high-heeled-Cinderella-slipper-foot in a princess costume. The true beauty of her traipsing around town in the get up was that in her sweet little mind she was not in costume at all, just a dress. Her choice in pink everything only confirmed her royal birthright.

Boo-Boo was determined to buy only one thing – shoes. She said it to anyone who would listen “I wohn shoooooes.” Come to find out I had been shoving her fat little foot into a shoe two sizes too small.  When the shoe salesman put her in a size 7 she literally jumped into the air over and over for joy.  And by jump, I mean squat all the way to the ground and throw her self up and her head back without her feet ever leaving the floor.

While Pumpkin is my brilliant, brooding artist, Boo is my joyful, sweet girl (albeit it with a little bit of a temper, but one that is as fleeting as it is fiery). In church Sunday, the girls were marching in a circle around one of the rows of chairs during the sermon, seemingly in their own world. As Mother Boo spoke to us about the Word, she mentioned that the phrase “Abba, father” was a familiar way of referring to God, “almost like saying ‘daddy.’” Without missing a beat or a step, Boo Boo shouted out “DADA!!!!” for the entire congregation.

Then last night we played a family game of keep away from Boo with a big pink balloon.  Boo was having a delightful time, giggling and chasing the balloon squealing “meeeeeeee.” At some point, our dramatic Pumpkin tumbled over on her wrist. The cry that ensued made Hubby and I certain she had broken a bone. She held her wrist limply and was screaming so loudly I couldn’t even communicate with her. Finally, I told her that I had to figure out how bad it hurt so I could determine whether she needed to go to the hospital. At the top of her hysterical lungs she says “IT ONLY HURTS A LITTLE BIIIIIIIIIIIT.”

Hubby and I fall apart laughing.  I turn around to find Boo standing there with a trembling lip. I asked her where the balloon went and she just says “sis-sis, sis-sis”. I see the closet door is now shut and ask Boo whether she shut the balloon in the closet and she nods dramatically and says, sadly, “sis-sis.”  Sweet Boo was convinced the balloon had hurt her sister and while we tended to sis-sis, she got rid of the balloon.

This morning Pumpkin tried to play with the balloon, with Boo-Boo, and dear Boo burst into tears saying “noooo, sis-sis.”  I finally convince Pumpkin not to torture Boo with the balloon and when she gets rid of it, Boo hugs her waist and says “sis-sis.”  Nothing has ever melted my (sometimes grumpy) heart more.


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

I Want You To Have It All

As those of you who follow me on IG know, I've thrown the idea(l) of a work-life balance out the proverbial window. Those scales will never balance and there will be days and weeks they tip one way before dropping back the other. There are times I am baking and carpooling like some modern day Donna Reed with a Best Mom coffee mug and other times where I feel like the Queen of the Courtroom, only to find out my kid didn't have lunch at school or forgot her ballet shoes. As an example, it is a known fact around my office that when I am in a big trial someone in my house is going to have a major illness  - literally these have ranged from pneumonia to emergency appendectomy. Talk about mom guilt - not only am I not there to love on them, I can't even really give them any mental energy until I am out of the courtroom. All of that is to say that life, an parenting, and lawyering are all like that - you win some, you lose some. Chasing some pipe dream of balance and harmony only ...

I'll Come Runnin'

Sometimes being a working mom is the pits. I’m not talking about the early morning meetings on less than a few hours of sleep or the late night ones which prevent me from bedtime prayers and tucking in. I’m not talking about working with a baby on one hip and a phone on one shoulder, or with spit up on my documents or, better yet, my blouse. I’m not even talking about the pangs of guilt I feel every time she comes down with something “she caught at daycare.” It’s something much deeper than that. Something that I know I have to fight to overcome. It’s the overwhelming sadness of not being there to witness every discovery, kiss every boo-boo, and rock her every time the world is not perfect. It’s the feeling of having to say goodbye, even if just for a short time. I guess that feeling isn’t unique to working moms. I think it’s something every mom feels at one time or another. Working moms just get it earlier…and maybe more frequently. Even those moms who are home right now...

Don't Know What You've Got 'Till It's Gone

Fair warning – this post may turn into a saccharine ode to my beloved and not-too-long-gone-and-not-at-all-lost hubby. Sadly, he hasn’t even been gone 24-hours and I’m already doing a tribute. It’s because I’ve been in quite the frenzy since he left, so much so that I double-checked myself in the car to make sure all the appropriate articles of clothing were on the proper parts of my body. Don’t get me wrong, I have always recognized what a good husband and daddy my Hubby is and I appreciate him to no end. But I never realized just how much the little things (like his presence) help me to keep my sanity. It all started yesterday. I picked Pumpkin up from school per usual. Nothing out of the ordinary there. We get home (to a clean home, no less – thank God for cleaning lady Wednesday). I let the dogs out and pour Pumpkin's evening milk cocktail. Again, typical M.O. The trash is sitting out by the door waiting for me to bring down to the big can on my way out again. No big deal – it’...