Proud moments as a mother.

Not long after we moved to the beach, I had set a cheese board to smoulder on the stove.  Calvin was at work and I was sitting with the oldest son and youngest daughter assisting them with their homework at the dining room table.  It was dinner time. You know mw, Ms. Multi tasker (even at seven months preggo, I was pretty good at it.)  Well, the dining room table was off from the kitchen, sort of in the living room.  It also happened to be about five feet from the back door.
While cooking, I happened to turn the wrong burner on to boil a some water.  Ikept a small, wooden, cheeseboard on the back burner and THAT was the burner I turned on instead.  While we were not in the kitchen, it had a chance to fill our small kitchen up with a great deal of smoke. Then the AC kicked in and smoke just ROLLED out of the kitchen.  Everything else seemed to happen at the same time.  At the instant we noticed the smoke, the smoke detectors went off.  I immediately knew what I had done as I do that chit all the time. So I got up an took two steps toward the kitchen.  My mind was racing and focused on getting that cheeseboard off there and into the sink before it burst into flames. At the same time, I also thought of the kids. I turned around, and CJ was still sitting at the table...totally not knowing what was going on. I am certain he knew exactly what I did.  There was not a fire....YET.  I turn to look for Alyssa and all I see is the back door swinging.
I lean just a little bit to my left and see a tiny face of a five year old, about twenty feet outside the back door trying to get a glimpse of what was going to happen next.  I will take the time to tell you I could not have been more proud of our baby girl in that moment. I immediately took care of the cheeseboard, no fire, just a lot of smoke. Whew!  Then retrieved our daughter and covered her face in smooches and filled her ears with praise.
She had done the right thing.  In hindsight, it was cute and funny because she got the Hell out of Dodge Jack!

Now, lets move forward ten years:

My dear readers know that I am a WAH professional and I work from home.  The other night, I was working and a thunderstorm came through.  Just after I shut down my computer and systems, there was a terribly bright lightening strike as well as horrible thunder.  I heard my kids in the next room scrounging around.

When I finally got everything settled, I walk into the hallway to a pitch black house. What happened next would have been a good scream scene for a horror movie (provided that I screamed, of course.)
The darkness began to speak to me in children's voices. O.o....I held up my phone as I was not near a light switch and seen that my children were all sitting on the couch, in the living room, in the dark.  Well, well, well.  I found out later that Alyssa corralled the children to the couch and turned all the lights off to be safe during the storm.  Another proud moment, I must say.  However, when the ten year old got up to use the bathroom, (I had joined them in the darkness, of course, it was quiet and I was NOT going to pass that up) he turned the light on so he could see.  Here comes Alyssa "All that electricity!!!!"  Hahaha.  Yes, she was being overly cautious, but she was being safe all in the same breath.  Yes, Momma is proud!  Daddy taught her that and she absorbed the safety knowledge well.

I am confident, as a parent that she will be safe and have an emergency plan when it comes to nature bringing forth her rage.  I can only hope that it will spill over into her interactions with people when she goes off to college or begins to have a more colorful, (yikes, and even less structured) social life and as an adult.  We parents spend our entire lives teaching our children to be safe and to be their own person and can only hope that the values we establish for them to mirror are the good ones and that they apply them to their own lives and go on to be productive adults who get to live long, healthy, and happy lives.

This is the direction I believe our daughter is heading in and I could not be more proud.  What proud moments have you had (like these) with your children?

Have you ever had a moment that was potentially catastrophic and hilarious all in the same moment?

Write letters to your children. Often

This morning, I woke to some movie where a group of kids were graduating high school. I imagine it was one of those where they did some epic journey to get there and they have come to the realization that their lives are all about to change. No wonder I was pondering the things I sat on the side of the bed and realized.  As a parent, they were very sobering thoughts.
While I know everything that my children are doing right now, something finally sank in.  In the same year, we have one (our youngest) graduating Kindergarten and another about to start high school.  Still the third is about to transition from the little kid to the big kid and enter the fourth grade.  I have one word for that.
                                                                            WOW.....O.O
Our children really do grow up so fast!  I know that they will always be my babies.  My heart holds that to be a fact but they are becoming their own people.  While this has been quite an eventful year so far (for lack of a better description,)  I cannot help but celebrate their achievements and be their biggest fan.  Even with the oldest two out and doing their thing, they are all still my children and I am still their mother and I could not be more proud.  Love your children folks, no matter how distant you are and no matter what they have done.  They are a reflection of yourself and you should be so proud.
One thing that I have done over the years is I write letters to our children.  No, they don't get them and I am not sure if they will ever read them.  However, if they do, I certainly hope that their love of reading will kick in and it will be the best read ever!  I know, you are all like: Wha?????  What I mean is that I do write them. I write them often and every chance I get.  While this was supposed to be some exclamation on my death bed, I want them to know right now that their life stories will be chronicled through my eyes so be on the look out for that when I go home to live with the angels.  I write these letters and I keep a chapter for each of them.  Sort of my gift to them when they are grown.
I write these and I put them aside.  I want them to know the joys, heartaches, and celebrations I had as having the best job on earth. Being their mother.  No holds barred folks.  Anger, joy, revelation, and simple observation encompass each page and I can only hope that they will even read a few.  I have always believed that the best story is your own. No matter what ups or downs you may have had.  I think it to be the best thing I can leave them. No amount of property or money or bequests can replace what your life story is.  Oh, it is illustrated too. Pictures, school work, write ups, little things from the heart they gave me.  That is the whole purpose of a file cabinet.  Not to hold receipts and important documents but to hold MEMORIES!  I love it when I go through my moms things and she has the little things I have given her over the years.  Especially true as a kid.  For example...She has this treasure chest thing.  She would always let me play with it when she would clean out her jewelry box.  Fond memories there.  Inside it right now is some trinket I gave her as a little girl.  Some years back, some lovely person created this "floam" stuff.  We allowed our daughter to stay the summer with my mother and when we picked her up, that treasure box was covered in  the stuff.  Artfully done, it still has that intrepid junk on it but I look at it and imagine the memory of MY daughter sitting next to her grandmother on the bed as they went through the jewelry box and the treasure chest was given new, colorful life with floam.  Memories are the best. Even a bad day is made better for just a moment by a great memory.
LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNGGGGG, mini digression there. (Pun intended.) It is never too late to write letters to your children.  Even if they are teenagers or grown for that matter. WRITE THEM!  You have so much to say if you are not starting the day they were born!  Most of us do it (in a fashion) anyway if we keep a baby book through age five.  Why stop there?  No, there is no strict schedule.  Just when the moment behooves you to do so.  They can be a half a page, a few sentences, or a mini chapter.  Write them!  Let them know where they are in your golden years and make them promise not to peek until you are their angel watching over them.  It will enable them to remember the good times and to see themselves in a different light. Through their mothers eyes!  Yes!  Nobody sees them quite like their mother.  What a wonderful gift to give your child.
Write them when they are little. Write them when they get married.  Write them when they fell down and got the "biggest boo boo ever."  Write them for no reason.  Write them because you have started when they are adults and you have so many stories to tell.  Write them to say "I love you and I am proud" and nothing more. Anytime will do folks!
I know that many may not even like to write and that is ok.  Leave them something for them to know you were in tune with them no matter how busy you may have been.  Over the years, there are flowers, drawings, simple little what nots that were given to you from the heart and for your children to see them again when they become their own people it something that would bring joy to their hearts.  All of the no's, and groundings, and attitudes will be forgotten and, just for a moment, they will remember what you are...........Mommie! (Dads can do this too, it is not limited.  Just because I am a mother, I am writing to the fellow moms out there.)

Tsk, Tsk, shakes head in "no-erly" fashion

I understand that priorities of everyone are different.  They are as stark as opinions, style, even the way we walk.  However, I want to believe that respect should come in the same form no matter who you are.  I want to start my rant this morning talking about respect in general.  I know, I know, I said I would start with the suggestions but I have to give those time to build and I need to reflect a little. Ah, but I digress.
Back to my "concern" for the day.  I can conceive that people treat their own belongings, also, with a different type of care than the next person. I get it that you do not care that your grass is never mowed or that you simply toss your trash out the window instead of properly disposing of it when you get home. What I simply cannot understand is how do you believe it is up to you to destroy something that does not belong to you?  That is lacking in respect to the nth degree.  Why bring this up?  Wonderful that you asked.
I come outside this morning and note tire tracks ALL THE WAY in our yard and the tree that was planted in my fathers name nearly laying on the ground and the bark skinned off one side of it.  I was alarmed NOT because they took it upon themselves to use our yard to turn their car around, (because this is not something new) but because of the lack of respect that our yard was clearly not theirs.  Further, I also happen to believe it was someone who did not live on our street.
The adage goes that you never know a person until you walk a mile in their shoes. Well, obviously nobody knew the tree they ran over either.  I have a special attachment to this tree and it was planted in Dad's honor because it was HIS tree.  When he was living, this sad little thing began to grow at the end of his place of residence.  Whenever we could come by, next to that tree is where he stood when he was getting some air.  He even told Calvin not to mow it over one day when he went to cut the grass for Dad many years back.  Well, that sad little thing, wild as it was, took root and began to grow.  The ground around the outside of Dad and Mom's place is not the most root friendly so it grew slowly.  It was about 12 inches when dad passed.  But I believe he loved it none the less.
The year dad passed, I decided to uproot the tree and bring it here. We are planting our own roots here and it would be nice to look out the window and be reminded of one of the better people that this planet had the privilege of presence.  I brought it here and it flourished.  While it is still a slow grow, it is about 3 feet tall.  Instead of growing an inch a year, I believe it to have grown about 8-10 inches per year.  I love "my" tree.
Imagine my horror to see one of the things in the world that give me happy thoughts nearly destroyed by someone with a gross lack of respect.
So, dear friends, it may not matter to you BUT it matters to someone and imagine how you would feel if someone did something similar to you.  If more people thought about things like that, then, this would be a much better place to live. Don't you think?
Feel free to comment below:                **Cheers**

UPDATE:  Since this was written, I am happy to say that the little tree survived and is a happy three feet tall now.  No permanent damage. My belief is that dad came down and used his angel powers to touch the tree and heal it. You know how it is. Daddy's little girl always believes that their fathers have superpowers! Mine is just now an angel! :)