Mommy Ever After » Friendship

We’re the three best friends that anyone could have

mommyeverafter — Tue, 22 May 2012 20:30:47 +0000

The Beach Edition:

And we’ll never ever ever ever ever leave each other.

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Good Vibrations

mommyeverafter — Mon, 21 May 2012 18:00:31 +0000

In recent weeks, I have had the privilege of watching as my daughter’s obsession with music has soared to new heights.
She sings along to the radio.
She writes her own songs
(“Sunglasses. I want sunglassES on right NOW. Doggie wears sunglassES TOO. Mommy, sunglassES! Wear sunglassES to Zeydie’s offICE!”)
She plays notes on the piano in time
and turns everything into a drum
and asks for dance parties incessantly.
And I cannot express how happy this makes me.
But, I can’t say I’m surprised.
For as I spent this past Saturday night with my original Fab Four (Mom, Dad, Sis, Moi)
at the Beach Boys Concert
I realized, once again, that she has come by this trait honestly.
Because we (the four of us) lost ourselves in that show.
Like that old saying advises, we truly did dance like no one was watching.
When the Boys did their surfing set, I tapped my foot and patted my thigh, (like the good former drummer I am!)
as my sister swayed rhythmically to the melody.
The four of us belted the words to “Don’t Worry Baby” at the top of our lungs
and swayed, arm in arm, to “Good Vibrations”.
We each put in our right hand, clasped them all together, and waved them back and forth, as one unit, to the cover of “Why Do Fools Fall in Love”.
Fools in love, we were.
And we did The Swim. A lot of it.
We each found our own home in the music
and then joined together
in (what I can only describe as, so pardon the cliche,)
harmony.
It was the best concert ever.
So, the next morning, as we danced to “Wouldn’t it be Nice” in our pajamas,
fighting over who would get the chance to hold the baby as she bopped and swayed and spun around,
I realized that music isn’t just in her
it is in all of us. It’s another member of our family.
Good Vibrations, indeed.

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Oh happy day.

mommyeverafter — Wed, 11 Apr 2012 17:11:26 +0000

Thank you, my sweet friends,
(online, offline, and everywhere in between…)
for making me feel this special.
(Which, by the way, is SO special!)
Today has been a lovely a day
and it’s only 1pm.
So thank you, thank you, thank you.
(And, by all means, keep it comin’!)
Love and Macaroons,
The Bday Gal.

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Just some things.

mommyeverafter — Thu, 29 Mar 2012 18:06:01 +0000

This past week has kept me oh-so-busy.
Like, Bizzy.
And it’s been good.
But, it has not left me with the time or energy to put my pen to paper to keyboard,
or what have you.
So, as a way to fill you in (or an attempt to make an excuse),
here are some things.
Some things I’ve done since we spoke last.
Just some things:
I’ve started to jog. And by jog, I mean I jog for a minute and then walk for ten minutes. But, I’m moving my body, so now I can officially call myself a jock. My next step will be getting a jersey with my name on it.
I’ve become a regular at our favorite lunch spot.
I’ve been singing. For other people (!).
I made these. And I ate them. All of them. Thank Gd I’m an athlete, now.
I found my poetry, again.
I crowded into a tiny dressing room with my Mom and my Mommom and my Aunt and My Sister and my Daughter, as we all helped my sister to find the perfect dress. I felt so lucky. (More on this to come…)
I watched a dear, so-in-love couple as they became husband and wife. I toasted to their marriage. I requested this song I got DOWN.
I bowled, terribly.
I woke up one morning and danced, in sunglasses, to Queen, before brushing my teeth.
I heard a friend tell me that I didn’t seem like myself; I knew that she was right; I let her talk me through it; I felt so much love.
I had a picnic outside with my class. We dined on chocolate cake and rice cakes. We are so elegant.
I heard my daughter sing every word of “Sydney (I’ll Come Running)”.
I got a hair cut. I botched a manicure. I found my daughter in my makeup drawer, with a face-full of blush. And pride.
I explained to a group of 3-year-old boys why my daughter needs glasses.
I haven’t slept well.
I’ve seen piles of feathers.
I’ve missed you.

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Music.

mommyeverafter — Tue, 13 Mar 2012 17:33:52 +0000

Music is playing inside my head
Over and over and over again
My friend, there’s no end to the music
Ah, summer is over
But the music keeps playing
And won’t let the cold get me down
-Carole King, Music
***
This morning, as I spent time flitting about and trying to tidy,
I left my daughter to have some quiet play time in her room. I had the music playing, in the background for us,
and I kept busy picking up socks and wiping down counter tops
she kept busy playing in her dollhouse and paging through her books.
And there was a serene rhythm to our morning.
But, it was not silent. I soon realized that my daughter was singing along to music that sounded from my little cell phone speakers.
She knew all of the songs.
She knew the words to “Bell Bottom Blues”
and to “(The Angels Want to Wear My) Red Shoes”
and to “Comeback Kid”.
And, of course, she knew every word to “Oh Yoko”.
And, I shouldn’t have been surprised. She puts her song requests in with me every day. She asks for songs by name (or the names she’s invented for them). She asks for reggae songs, and alternative rock songs and performances by college a cappella groups.
Music is a part of her. Real, good, honest, grown-up music. My kid knows music. And she loves it.
***
When I was 11, I decided to take a Musical Theatre Class at the Walnut Street Theatre. This meant waking up at a painful hour for a Saturday, trekking downtown and spending hours in a dance studio, high above the street.
And as tired and as grumpy and as annoyed as I would feel at having to make the early trip,
as soon as my teacher entered the room, it was magic.
His name was Ricardo. He was so tall and talented.
He taught us songs
and dance steps
and style.
He taught me about music.
We sang Showtunes, yes, but we also sang “Music” by Carole King and “The 59th Street Bridge Song (Feelin’ Groovy)” By Simon and Garfunkel.
Ricardo died when I was in High School, long after I had graduated from his Saturday morning class.
But, every time I feel tired, and hear music start to sway through my head in slumber,
I’ve got no deeds to do, no promises to keep.
I’m dappled and drowsy and ready to sleep
let the morning time drop all it’s petals on me.
Life, I love you. All is groovy.
I think of my teacher. Tall and talented. And I Love music, just a little bit more.
***
My childhood has a Soundtrack.
My memories play as scenes before me,
and I can feel them, so vividly,
and I can hear the music that lead us and guided us and shaped our days.
Driving down stretches of windy, mountain roads in Steamboat Springs, Colorado, with Elvis Costello’s “Mighty Like a Rose” blasting from the speakers of our rental car.
In the carpool line of my very first Day Camp, listening to For Our Children and never wanting to leave the car. Or my mom.
Dancing on the living room couches with my parents to The Pretenders
Hearing “Sweethearts Together” for the first time, with my dad, and knowing that it would be my Wedding Song.
Outdoor concerts, from Crosby, Stills Nash and Young to orchestra at Tanglewood;
Family sing-alongs;
Hours and hours and hours spent around the speakers,
nurturing and
growing love;
my music memories serve as the lamp posts that light the story of my childhood.
***
Music is a part of my daughter. She breathes the melodies, just as I do.
There is little in this life that brings me more joy.
I hope that she always finds the light in music, just as I have.
I hope that music will always keep her warm.
***
This post is dedicated to my friend, GM: For always believing in me. And in music.

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A Mother.

mommyeverafter — Wed, 07 Mar 2012 18:49:56 +0000

In a little over a month, my newborn baby will, quite miraculously, be having her second birthday. I know. it makes no sense.
It actually confuses me.
It hit me yesterday, at school, when a colleague and friend of mine was kissing and cooing over my daughter. And my daughter was answering her, calling her by her name. And it shocked me. Wasn’t it just the previous day that this friend of mine was rubbing my belly, tickling my enormous bump, sending kisses to the growing girl inside?
Where did the time go?
If my little girl is no longer a baby, does that mean that I am no longer a new mom?
I met my daughter two Springs ago,
and since then,
things have gone from overwhelming and exasperated to
almost
effortless.
I now know how to do things
like securing the first Pediatrician appointment of the day,
giving the perfect “back ‘assage”,
keeping my kid awake on a long car ride
and then getting her to sleep, soundly, on her own,
and can change a diaper, type and cook dinner, all one-handed.
But, it wasn’t until last night that it really sunk in.
For, it was last night, when I held my heaving baby,
as she choked and coughed and threw up all through the night,
and I slept, in a bed covered in towels, with a baby
and her vomit,
sprawled out across my body
that I didn’t care, one bit, that her regurgitated dinner was tangled in my hair…
Because I had a baby to hold. To soothe. To love.
And in that horrible, exhausting, sad moment
I was no longer a new mom.
I was a mother.

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The greatest things.

mommyeverafter — Tue, 28 Feb 2012 19:56:45 +0000

Today, I experienced two of the greatest things.
First, I saw this:
(image via)
and it was like all of the stars aligned into the world’s most extraordinary moment. Nothing so perfect could actually exist, surely.
My mom and I watched the Les Miz Flash Mob from last night’s episode of “It’s a Brad Brad World” with our mouths agape, eyes wet with tears and chills running up and down our arms. Actual goosebumps. The best thing I’ve ever seen.
And I could not stop saying so. And then I started plotting how to get Gary to leave Brad for me, so that maybe, just maybe, in 10 years, we would be sitting outside at our Anniversary party, and I’d be waiting for his dry, pithy toast, when, out of nowhere, the piano intro to “La Vie Bohemme” would come cascading from between the trees, as my slew of most talented friends would make their way to the stage…
And then, this happened:

So, yeah, he’s totally mine.
And, as a side note to my current husband: If you ever want to know what my most perfect birthday present ever would be
see above.

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“with glasses.”

mommyeverafter — Mon, 13 Feb 2012 18:57:11 +0000

originally published on Little Four Eyes
Something happened, recently;
In fact, many somethings:
My baby daughter became a kid;
She started to go to school;
She got recognized for her glasses.
Back in the early days, when her diagnoses and spectacles were so new,
my greatest fear was that she’d be judged.
I worried that she would be ridiculed
and prayed that she would not be marginalized.
I hoped that people would be able to look beyond the tiny, wire frames that sat upon her nose,
and not see a girl who was bespectacled,
but instead, a girl who was being spectacular.
I hoped. I wished. I waited.
And then, she grew up.
She started preschool.
She met children.
She made new friends.
And, by coincidence, we found out that another girl in her class had the very same name.
I wrestled with the idea of how to tackle the name situation, as I am in the role of both mother and teacher,
and with the girls being so young, I wanted to avoid as much confusion as possible.
Should I call my daughter by her full name, although she’s used to going by the abbreviation?
Should I tack on the first initial to their last name?
But, before I could come up with the right answer,
it was handed to me;
handed to me by two, tiny, sticky, toddler hands.
A little boy in the class, for whom my daughter has the utmost affection, began to ask for her on his drive to school in the morning.
His mother shared with me that as they would pull into the parking lot, he would ask for his teachers, the puppets, and my daughter.
And he would say her name, and then, to be absolutely clear, he would modify it, by saying,
“…With glasses.”
His mother told me this with a smile.
Her son loved my daughter. His friend. His friend with glasses.
And when I heard this, I was overcome with great emotion.
For all those many days and weeks and months, I had felt so worried that my daughter would not be seen for who she was
for what she could do,
and here it was: The affirmation of my fears. My kid was the little girl who was known for having glasses, and even given a nickname, as such.
And as soon as her words hit me,
I felt
absolutely
nothing
but
love.
I thought it was precious.
I felt grateful.
I felt proud.
Because for me, her glasses are just one of the many things that maker her special. And they make her special to her new friend. And they have absolutely nothing to do with why he loves her.
He loves her because she shares his obsession with animals. He loves her because they do puppet shows for one another. He loves her because they sit quietly together, in the corner, and read books. And he loves her enough to have a nickname for her. And it is true. She’s with glasses,
but she’s also with so much more.

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To you…

mommyeverafter — Sun, 13 Nov 2011 18:48:10 +0000

This weekend, we had the distinct honor
and unbelievable pleasure
of watching our two best friends
as they became man and wife.
And I can’t even write about it now without crying.
So, for now, I will just say,
here’s to you, babes.
To you,
to life,
to crazy love
and to your many
to-morrows
together.
We could not love you more.

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To my special friend,

mommyeverafter — Sun, 23 Oct 2011 12:38:02 +0000

Sharla;
Thank you for teaching me to appreciate all of the small moments of FUN in our world;
Thank you for your constant support;
And, most of all, thank you for bringing Abby Cadabby into our lives.
It is breakfast now in our house, and as I handed my daughter her bowl of Greek yogurt, she grabbed it, excitedly, and said “Dot dot dot!” (which is the name for the kind of painting we do together, as she loves her dot paints) before painting all over her high chair with her creamy, white yogurt.
And instead of cringing at the mess
or worrying about her breakfast,
I am enjoying this small moment of unexpected fun. So thank you, Sharla…
for everything.

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