….and I’m happy about it.

For Mother
Cheeks soft from years of tears
The rolling drops, relieving fears
Tired eyes, creased with pain
Giving much with naught to gain.
Body weak, from running too fast
Your own welfare, you put last.
A life you wished for, you made sure I had
My thanks was indifference, your soul became sad.
Oh mother forgive my iniquitous slack.
Forgive me for pointing out all that you lack.
I hope it’s not too late to show that I care,
To walk in your footsteps, your mantle to wear.
To show I am grateful for all that you do,
To learn how to be a great mother like you.

© Summer Owens, 2000

* Thank you for hauling 5 children to church with you every Sunday, even when dad didn’t come. You taught me how important God and church were to you.

* Thank you for assigning me daily chores without pay and showing me how to do them. I learned how to work hard without promise of reward.

* Thank you for making cookies with me, and for letting me accompany you to take christmas cookies to neighbors every year. You taught me the value of service and how happy it makes not only the receiver, but the giver.

*Thank you for expressing your belief in my abilities when I was down on myself. Children have a way of knowing what you think them capable of and fulfilling those expectations to that degree. Thank you for helping me to exceed my own expectations of myself.

* Thank you for knowing how to balance your calling as mother and your desire to also be my friend. I want my children to be able to confide in me as I did in you.

A series of conversations that took place in our household this morning

Me: Boys, time to go pick up your bedroom
Boys: Okaaaaay mom

A little while later Ethan and Caleb run out to me

Caleb: Bedwoom aw kwean!!
Me: Honey, will you go see if their bedroom is really clean?

Hubby proceeds to follow excitedly chattering boys into back bedroom. He re-emerges a moment later

Hubby: Well, it’s about as clean as you can expect. There are some toys shoved under the crib…*interrupted by Ethan

Ethan: Yeah, hiding toys under beds and cribs is the bestest and fastest way!!!!!
True true. Very soon he’ll realize he shouldn’t tell his parents about it however.

3104 Jackie Court
I still have the address of my beloved childhood home memorized.
More than an address, it was a place where memories were created that I will always hold dear. And it was a place where I learned some of life’s greatest lessons.
Tiny frogs inhabited a large plant in our front yard. I remember catching them and feeling the warm trickle of frightened froggie pee in my hand.
I remember examining the leaves of this same bush for slimy snail trails. I loved to watch the snails ripple slowly along the leaves. I loved to poke softly at their little eyes and watch them immediately retract and pop out again a minute later.
Here, I learned about life, about how amazing each of God’s creations are.

I remember helping mom plant marigolds in our front yard. I loved the marigolds, they were beautiful, but I loved them even more for the vistors they brought.
Cabbage Butterflies, Monarchs and Tiger Swallowtails we’re regular visitors. My mom showed me how to catch them with a technique I called shadowing.
It took patience and stealth. A sudden shadow falling over the butterfly would scare them away. But a slowly moving shadow, like the shadow of a passing cloud would not disturb.
And so, in the hot, bright, California sun, I slowly moved toward the butterfly, letting my shadow gradually fall over them, crouching carefully down until I was within grasping range. With a quick motion of hand, I held a butterfly, by the very tip of closed wings in my fingers.
Whenever I caught a butterfly, mom would bring out the butterfly book and we would identify it. Then I would release it. I once, with my little 5 year old fingers, caught the smallest butterfly in North America according to that book.
One night, we had a severe dust storm. The morning sun light showed traces of it everywhere. Some branches and leaves strewn across the yard, our marigolds looking haggard. As I checked the damage, I hoped the butterflies would come back. And then I saw it, something on the pavement, gleaming in the sun. I walked over to what I thought was shattered glass. I realized I looked at shards of Swallowtail wing.

Here, I learned about death, how fragile life is, and how quickly life can be taken away from us

We had a neighbor, a woman in her 40′s and single. Her name was Norma and she was my friend. I think now of how kind she was to let a little 5 year old visit her on a regular basis, playing with her doll and doll house collection, and eating the candy out of the glass jar on her coffee table. I loved Norma.
The memories I have from my childhood home could span a novel. Maybe someday I’ll write one. But for now I’ll list other key remembrances.

Some favorite memories from my childhood home:
*Learning to ride a bike
*Hot pavement under bare feet
*Digging a hole in the backyard with my brother, filling it with hose water and then playing in it with our toy dinosaurs
* My mom’s tea cup and mug collection
*My neighbor friends Ashley and Mary Kay
* Playing on the Slip n’ Slide through the sprinklers on the front lawn

Some not so favorite memories from my childhood home:
*Getting splinter after splinter from the backyard fence and dad pulling them out with tweezers
*Getting my first bee sting
*Crashing my bike and getting a rock stuck in my knee

Good or bad, I cherish each memory I have from that wonderful magical place in which I grew up.

I remember once, before I had children, watching mothers adoring their messy faced little babies and thinking, “Eeeew, I’m never going to kiss my baby’s slobber, or pick boogers out of my babies nose.”

I bet you mother’s are laughing at me.

Because you know I love to get drooled on now, or that I just can’t leave my helpless baby sucking a dangling booger in and out of her nose over and over.

She’s staring at me right now from her bouncy seat, spit bubbles dripping down her chin. She’s been practicing spitting for a week now and I can’t get enough of it.

I love her so very much.

I love the way a smile at momma involves an arched back, kicking legs and flailing arms, all done simultaneously.

I love how her nose crinkles up when she yawns.

I love kissing her super soft, chubby (and even slobbery) cheeks.

I love how when hungry, she ravenously latches onto whatever part of me she can. She actually gave me a hickey on my chin. I only let her suck on it for like a minute. First hickey I ever got too.

I love how she doesn’t quite know what to do when I zurbit her tummy. Her eyes get wide and she grunts loudly. It’s almost a laugh but not quite.

I love watching her try to interact with her daddy and brothers.

I love everything about this precious, God given, little person who I am to take care of.

It is almost overwhelming to know I have been entrusted with 3 precious, heaven sent souls, but at the same time it’s great motivation to do the job right.

Brazilian Limeade
* courtesy of my husband who lived in Brazil for two years

3 cups water
1/2 cup ice
2 medium limes, whole
1/3 cup sugar
1/3 cup sweetened condensed milk
1.Place all ingredients in a blender and blend until smooth
2. Taste and add more sugar if needed.
2. Drink immediately. Do not store in the fridge. If stored, the drink will become very bitter due to the lime peel within.