Leaving Oz

Love Notes

Every so often, I will wander over to my bed at the end of a too-long day and wonder if anything at all worthwhile got accomplished in the last 20 hours.  Then I will find a colorful pencil drawing with a note on my pillow telling me I am loved. The kids get so excited about these notes and will often tell me as soon as they have delivered their missive onto the bed.  But even though I have been forewarned, I am still pleasantly surprised to find the letter, and sit contentedly on the side of my bed to examine the child's drawing and read the caring message.

One such evening, I found not one but two love letters, and decided to write them back.  Shocking that that thought never crossed my mind before.  The kids were playing with their Papa, and so I had time to scribble out a few lines to each of my four children and place the notes on their pillows before they went to bed.  I waited in eager anticipation for them to discover the little slips of paper.

Feeling Welcome With Kids

This past weekend we were invited to a wedding for an old colleague of my husbands. Actually, Rob was in the wedding and the whole family was invited. There was a time in our lives about ten or eleven years ago where our summer was almost entirely booked with weddings. Then there was a period a few years after that where we were flooded with baby showers. Now, we tend to be swamped with little kid birthday parties, and weddings are a rare event in our lives. Neither of our kids, ages 3 and 6, had ever been to one so they were mildly curious. I, on the other hand, I simply felt dread as the day approached.      

Here's what I saw looming ahead... an intimate wedding at a private estate in Santa Rosa with two little kids who couldn't sit still through dinner, much less a Greek orthodox wedding ceremony, complete with crowns, chanting, communion and a forecast for temperatures in the 90's. Plus, there was the fact that Rob would be in the wedding party, which meant he wouldn't be much help, and as an added bonus he was going to be reunited with a bunch of his old friends that he hadn't seen in years. Just how many people was I going to know at this exciting event? Oh, about two- the groom and one of the other groomsmen -  a lot of good that'd do me.  I was determined to be a trooper, though. I knew that Rob was really excited, and I didn't want to rain on his parade so off we went.

A Slice of Childhood Pie

When the girls were in their preschool years (I should say, pre-soccer years), we used to spend a lot of time in our back and front yards. I did my share of gardening back then - not as much as I would have liked, but I tried. I would have the girls with me when I'm outside. I bought them their own set of gloves, and they'd help me out. Well, sort of. I use the word "help" very loosely here. They'd stay with me for 15 minutes or so, then they'd just saunter off and do their own thing. One of their most favorite things to do was play with snails. They'd collect them and have imaginary families in no time.

As they got older, soccer took over our weekends, and we hardly ever got to just stay home, let alone spend time in the yard.

Well, after a long reprieve, I found myself doing yard work this morning. I volunteered (or was I volunteered? Minor little detail...) to help with decorating the stage for graduation. Renting plants just was not cost-efficient, so I ended up buying a bunch of low-growing perennial plants to use for the stage, with the thought that - hey, this is a good opportunity to get the yard going again!

My Father's Day On This Side of Heaven

Father's Day is really all about dads. This year, it was also meaningful for me as a mom.  Since I grew up with a single parent mom, I've had the girl-power version of a family.  Whenever people find this out about me, sad expressions wash over their faces and their voices lower a couple notches.  They ask me gently, "What's it like growing up without a father?"

As a young girl, my reaction to this kind of question was kind of a blank stare.  "Uh, I don't know.. "  I was never quite sure how to answer this question.  I relate to other people who were born without a limb, who I've  heard answer,"You can't miss what you've never had."

As I grew older, though, I came to resent that question.  First of all, a lot of people who ask me this question may not even know me.  And I think it's a rather personal question, you know?  Like if it really was tough to answer, especially for some kids who do have memories of their dad living with them.  I felt it was very rude for people to ask right up front.

The second reason I came to hate this question was that I realized when people asked it, they assumed that there would be some dark, terrible, or sad answer.