One Amazing Little Girl

I have to believe that there is at least one singular moment, as a parent, where you are able to look around, take stock and realize you've done right and raised one outstanding little human being.  Mine came this morning.  I might never be the same again.  It was that momentous.

My oldest is a people pleasing, studious, quiet and quirky little girl.  She tries so hard to make everyone happy, and I hope she understands sooner rather than later, that the way to make folks happiest is by making yourself happy first.  She's often overlooked by family and friends because she's beyond her years and doesn't have much of that bubbly kid magic that my younger two children have.  She's an old soul and struggles with fitting in.

What she has is a brilliance of mind that is dumbfounding and a purity of heart that is truly a rarity these days.  She is my pride and joy in so many ways that I struggle to convey it to her, because it is not for tangible reasons.

I've been very nostalgic and melancholy lately.  I miss my Grandmother very much.  She passed away near Thanksgiving and one of the only regrets I have in life is not listening to my inner voice and immediately flying 800+ miles to hug her one last time.  It's a long and complicated history I had with her (for a post some other day)...and I treasure everything of hers I'm able to hold onto to this day.

My mother, this week, found a necklace I long thought lost.  It holds no monetary value.  In fact, it's a piece of junk...but it's my piece of junk from her.  And it means more to me than words can describe.  With it came a long forgotten jewelry box that was dirty as all get out and some other costume pieces.

My husband and I had discussed buying our oldest a special jewelry box for her birthday this year.  Instead, I chose to hand along Grandma's jewelry box.  You'd have thought I had given this kid the Holy Grail.  She ran off and immediately moved the jewelry she had into this 'new' box.  That night I held my necklace and cried.

The next morning, I sent her an email to tell her what I was feeling right then, because I knew if I didn't - I would never remember to tell her by the time I got home [we set her up with an email address for this reason.  I'm out of the house before they get up in the morning, and rarely when I return home do I have the time out of our dinner-life routine to remember these feelings and to act upon them].  I told her she made me proud.  I told her my grandmother was poor and didn't have nice things...and that she broke my heart in a good way to see how she wanted that box.  I told her that I was sad my grandmother never met her, as I know they would have been friends.

This is what I was greeted with in my email at work this morning:

From: Thing 1
Sent: Wednesday, November 13, 2013 4:11 PM
To: Me
Subject: RE: You Amaze Me.

Mommy,

Thank you for giving me your Grandma’s Jewelry Box. I love it. I think it’s cool that I got after someone in my family.

I found out that it can lock, but if you slide the lock hole, it opens! That’s  cool.

I really love it. I wouldn't replace it.

Thank you,

Thing 1

She's eight.  EIGHT! This eight-year-old just showed more insight and maturity and beauty of soul than anyone else I know.  I know that for all my faults, I've at least done this right.  I will never know what I did in life to deserve her, but she makes me proud and thankful every day.

Move Over Oprah, Now There's Someone Meatier...

Weight has been a constant struggle in my life.  I feel you, Oprah.  I've been a 220lb size 18 and I've been a 125lb size 7.  I'd like to find a happy medium somewhere in between.  The last 10 years have been a struggle especially; as I got married, moved 800 miles, changed jobs twice, sold a house, freeloaded with family, bought another house, got pregnant, got pregnant again, got pregnant yet again...  Whew, it's been a whirlwind tour!

This year I finally said enough.  I started to realize that I needed to give my kids an even healthier foundation than just loving their father and them...I needed to love myself.  First.  It's taken me countless years and not just a little bit of therapy to love who I am, but I've never really loved the girl looking back from the mirror.  She's cute, sure, but she's not been something I'd have been proud to show off to my mom in well over...well, maybe ever.

I'm tired of looking in the mirror and criticizing myself...like way too many women do.  I've started to look at me the way my kids do.  They think I'm beautiful.  They've told me so: unprompted.  I've cried.  Their voices have conflicted with all the others that lurk in my dark recesses that tell me I'm not.  The spiteful voices that tell me I'm chubby. That tell me I'm not good enough.  Well, screw that.  I'm done listening to those voices.  And I've vowed to never repeat anything those ugly voices have said - aloud or in front of my children.

I've started a walking regiment.  Regiment?  Not even.  I sat down & did some numbers math...I eat right (mostly...but hey - who the hell eats perfect?).  In fact, I eat healthier than most of the ppl I know.  I have a slight portion control issue.  Done.  Let's take smaller first helpings and limit my second helpings to when I really need it.  So, it's not my eating.  What could it be?

I got a pedometer.  The things I've learned?  Shocking!  I walked about 3000 steps on a good day.  Holy shit!  On a good day!  25 years ago and beyond, the standard/norm was to walk 10,000 steps a day.  And that wasn't from working out, it was part of our manual labor society.  I'd discovered the problem, I had become a slug.  No more.

With the help of a $100 purchase that is literally changing my life and my attitude...every day, my Fitbit and I started a journey.  I walk.  I walk 10,000 steps every day (or damned near close to it).  I've made friends on the Fitbit app.  I've rekindled old friendships, long ignored.  I've talked junk to my best friend and created little competitions.  And I've lost weight.

Weight I'm saying goodbye to.  And the weeks I don't lose, but maintain, I've seen inches come off.  From merely walking.  And when my kids ask why I'm walking so much, I tell them that I do it to be healthy and to become more of the Mommy they think I am.

So, Oprah, while you're pretty amazing...it is my goal to never be in your company again.  Adios.