Mother’s Day – “strait” up love

Hallmark ain’t got a thing on my 13-year-old…”strait” up!

the woman I am becoming

 My great-aunt Thelma lives in rural Mississippi in the house (a bit modified through the years, of course) in which she was raised on land that has passed from ancestor to ancestor since the Ashley family arrived there around 1795.  As a child I would walk the short distance from my grandparents’ house through the woods and around my grandfather’s gardens to visit Aunt Thelma.  I could always count on a cold “Coka-coler”, puzzles or some sort of board game, a jar full of marbles, and a parting gift–an apple or an orange.  Aunt Thelma never married or had children, so the children and grandchildren of her four siblings were precious to her, and she was like another grandmother to me.  As life sometimes goes, we didn’t always have time for her, but she always had time for us–she was a constant; ever-present for her family.  Aunt Thel cared for each of her siblings as they left this life: Earl, cancer; Mae, lukemia; Pete, cancer; Gurvis, cancer; Ginny, dementia.  I suppose with those odds, it’s a wonder she’s made it through her 85th year.  Then again, perhaps her work here is not done.

Last fall I read Cutting for Stone, an epic novel by Abraham Verghese that journeys from India to Ethiopia to the United States and weaves a story of family, tragedy, caregiving, regret, and forgiveness.  Absorbed in the tale, I came across the word ayah:  “The little boy’s ayah, Sebestie, had nothing to do other than join in the play…”  This word, pronounced “ah-yuh”, reminded me of the pet name for Aunt Thelma that was given to her by a niece.  I never knew how to spell it, but it sounded very similar to ayah. Of course, with a southern child saying the name it sounded more like “i-yi” with a long “i” sound, but this word intrigued me.  When I looked up the meaning, I found that it was an Indian word that means nursemaid and is a derivation of the Latin and Portuguese words for grandmother.  I doubted that this word ayah had any role in the pet name given Aunt Thelma, but I thought how fitting that she, who has become the matriarch of her family even though she has no children, would be called by a name so similar to this.  She has mothered and given care to so many.

As I approach my 36th birthday, I find myself mothering and giving care for so many myself.  My own boys are 12 and 9, and when I remarried two years ago, I gained a full-time stepdaughter, who just turned 14.  In December, my husband’s former stepdaughter, who is 20, came to live with us.  Yesterday, she gave birth to her auburn-haired baby Chloe.  Not only did I have the privilege of witnessing her birth, but I also became a grandmother…sort of.  Many have asked me what Chloe will call me:  “Grammy?” “Maw Maw?” “Mimi?”  All of those seem strange to me.  I am, after all, only 36 (!), and I have no biological link to this child.  Oh, how she holds my heart already, though!  While her mama will grow her and love her (and quite well, I suspect!), I will get to have a unique role in her life as well.

So I will be “Ayah” to baby Chloe.  It seems fitting, and I pray I can be a woman who is everything my Aunt Thelma has been to so many.

*By the way, I simply can’t share a bed with a man called “Paw Paw” or “Gramps”…it’s just not in me.  Mike will be “Papa”.  : )

Master of the Jujitsu Mom Stare

Dictionary.com’s word of the day:  “Jujitsu – the ability to accomplish a task with no apparent effort or resistance.”  According to Noah, I’m able to speak whole sentences to him with my eyes even when I don’t realize I’m doing it.  Does that count?

Side by Side

In a meeting today a coworker was demonstrating a new web-based tool when another coworker stepped in to help him search for something.  Within a few seconds there were two brains thinking in two different directions while one controlled the keyboard and the other controlled the mouse.  A bit like watching a three-legged race that no one has practiced for!

A very cloudy memory formed in my head at just that moment…a piano duet with my older brother when we were kids.  I have no idea what we played or even how old we were, but I remember practicing for the performance (I hated piano!).  What was our teacher thinking?!  “Yes, let’s see…I’ll just take these two kids who aren’t too fond of playing the piano in the first place (or of each other, for that matter), stick them on a bench, and teach them to play a little piece that will make their relatives just oooh and ahh over them.”

Do you ever have days when you feel like you got stuck with the worst duet partner in the world?  Your spouse, a coworker, your boss, or maybe even the guy next to you on your flight to Chicago might be working your last nerve or seem on a completely different wavelength.  Just remember that everyone has a unique perspective.  Your ideas may be different, and in the end you may not agree on all the details (or even on the whole plan!), but having an extra brain, eyes, or hands can have its advantages.

What do I remember most about my childhood duet?  We sat side by side, legs touching, fingers meeting on the keyboard from time to time, and played one song together.  No fighting, no yelling, no ugly faces, no competition.  Just two kids with a shared sense of accomplishment.

My Little Monsters

Not that we’re trying to crush their self esteem…but we couldn’t help but see the resemblances!

Axe me how old I am…

As a woman and the mother of a girl, I understand certain rites of passage in a girl’s life:  starting to shave your legs, getting your first pair of high-heel shoes, and trying on that first bra (while still flat as a pancake).  Although I won’t claim to understand them as well, I also know about common rites of passage for boys and have even had some very serious (and awkward) conversations with my sons from time to time about “boy stuff”.  Even with all this knowledge and experience, I guess I still am not prepared for my sweet Jonah to start growing up.

A couple of weeks ago he informed me that he was going to start wearing deodorant “because Noah started wearing it in 3^rd grade”.  I have to hand it to him—his reasoning is sound since he did start 3^rd grade this week.  What I did not realize is that he had James take him deodorant shopping last week.  Apparently the most en vogue pit protection out there is Axe (if you haven’t seen the commercials, don’t…because you’ll just be frightened by what your precious babies are going to grow up to be).  Axe is like a deodorant and cologne all rolled into one.  The stick version of it isn’t too horrible (this is the kind Noah wears, I think), but Jonah came home from his dad’s flashing a travel-sized can of the spray variety.  Potent stuff.

I had forgotten about it until I received the following email from Mike this morning (he puts the kids on the bus in the mornings, and I am home in the afternoons when they get off the bus).

Subject:  Whoa!

Smelled something kinda manly when Jonah walked into the shed while I was putting the ice chests away.  I asked if he had cologne on.  He replied, “Deodorant!”  I walked into the house and could smell it from the living room all the way to the bathroom.  The boy is serious about not being funky.

Good luck in 3^rd grade, my unfunky son…you make every day an adventure!

Jonah’s Boat

Jonah wanted to complete his school project the first night he had the assignment.  We convinced him to stretch it out over a few days to get it looking just right.  He went through several names before settling on the Titanic.  Luckily, his didn’t sink.

Now I know you can almost hear the grunt of Tim “The Toolman” Taylor.  Mike couldn’t wait to get out to his scrap lumber and power tools.  He definitely took charge of this project.  Notice how Jonah’s holding his breath in this picture.  I love it!  He wasn’t so sure about breathing in the saw dust.

I really wish we had some pictures of him painting it.  He took it to his dad’s house for that part.  They also put the name on it with a woodburning kit.