When I got pregnant with Fran I was scared as hell....like really scared. I had no idea what to expect, what I was going to do, or what my life would be like after she was born. Sure, I babysat for my brother and sister, changed a few diapers and even took a couple of trips to McDonald's, but then I gave them back. They weren't mine. Ironically, my older brother has three girls and when Johnny and I first started dating he would tease my brother all the time about being "cursed with three girls," and I would always say, "You better be careful, if you and I work out, you may end up with three girls yourself." And now, here we are. Ain't karma a crazy thing?
These last 13 years have been nothing short of a roller coaster ride. We've been through all kinds of twists and turns, ups and downs, sometimes with our eyes open and other times with eyes shut, hands in the air and saying, "God, just do your thing." My girls have been a blessing, not just to me, but to Johnny and the rest of our family. However, as blessed and grateful as I am, it still doesn't change the fact that I have THREE GIRLS! ;)
I feel as if I fight a daily war with hair ties, leggings, jeggings, flats, sandals, jeans, SKINNY LEG jeans, flat irons, wands, things that glitter or sparkle, chevron print, bracelets, charms, purses, shoes that click on the tile and tennis that tie up to their knee....the battle is never won, and it's never over. I was never the "girly-girl", I played ball - basketball, volleyball and softball - my sister was girly enough for the both of us. She was the cheerleader and a part of the drill team (actually, she WAS the drill team, she even used one of those wooden rifles from back in the day ;) ). I didn't have time to worry about makeup or what my hair looked like, so forget about tweezing and plucking and waxing and shaving, oh, and don't get me started on makeup. Seriously, who has time for 20 layers of all kinds of crap on your face and your eyes? I kept it simple. I always have. Maybe that was wrong; but now, as my girls enter the age of tween-hood and the teen years, I realize how much I CAN'T help them. I find myself asking my nieces, my sister and co-workers about all kinds of stuff, because I don't know what they'll ask me and I want to be prepared.
Today's picture is of something I found on Pinterest to make, because there are WAY too many headbands for one room. I took an empty oatmeal can, wrapped it in scrapbook paper and stood it on Maddie's dresser. She wrapped her headbands around it, draped her sunglasses around the edges and dropped her brush and comb on the inside, and just like that, we could see the top of her dresser again; you'd think I just discovered electricity by her excitement. I spent today on the frontline of that battle, sorting through every piece of clothing my two youngest girls own (please don't ask about their socks....it'll take a second infantry to get through that basket). As I moved around their room, I gave orders to "put that in your everyday t-shirt drawer" or "hang that in the dresses section" as if that drawer or that closet will last a week - but hey, you never know, they could surprise me. Then, my middle daughter came up to me and said, "Mom, we have a lot of clothes." Which I wanted to respond with, "Yeah, no shit", but instead said, "Yes, you do. That makes you pretty lucky, huh?" We went on to talk about the people, especially other kids, who don't have "as many clothes" or who have to wear the same thing over and over again. At the end of the conversation she just simply said, "Thanks for taking care of our clothes, Mom, and for helping us get organized today." I looked at her as she walked a stack of t-shirts to the everyday drawer and I smiled, thinking, maybe this battle is almost over, and then I stepped on another loose hair tie. :)
Till next time...
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