Patience- what is it? Lately, I have none, and it shows. I have very little patience for anything or anybody, including M&M. So what's going on? Jamera is about to graduate, and boy am I overwhelmed. Tamia is growing as she puts it "bigger and taller." And I am growing tired and gray. I know, I know, I am only 39, but "Lawd," I feel like I'm much older. So what happens when Patience forsakes you (or should I say when you forsake Patience)? God sends you a message. My message came yesterday from Mia- my 2 1/2 year old.
Tamia- "Mommy are you mad at me?
Me- shocked "What did you say, Tamia?"
Tamia- again asks, "Are you mad at me, Mommy? but this time she adds, "Just be happy with me."
At that moment I thought to myself, what's wrong with you Lady? How could I not be happy? I have too much to be thankful for, and instead of worrying about the minutiae of life, I should be doing what God created me to do, Loving M&M. "Out of the mouths of babes..." I hear you Father, loud and clear. Today, I am thanking God for the much needed wake-up call.
Sunday, March 24, 2013
Saturday, March 23, 2013
Earthquakes Happen
The summer is over, so that means I’m back at work. And while I want, need, and crave normalcy, it’s hard to do all that I have to do, and do it well, when all I want to do is stay at home with M&M.
This morning before I get ready to leave for work, I notice that Jamera is visibly tired. Her usual gleam is not present, and her movements are deliberately sluggish. Not a good thing. I have to shake, I mean wake her up. I have to get her to snap out of her sleep-induced trance because she has a busy day ahead of her. She has been tasked with keeping Tamia.
Now mind you, when Tamia wakes up, she hits the ground running; she’s been walking since 8 ½ months, so it's safe to say that now at 11 ½ months, she’s a sprinter. But putting all that aside, when Tamia first wakes up all she wants is her mommy. This demand is non-negotiable. Dilemma: a sleepy big sister and a mommy-loving sprinter; not a good combination. But the task must be passed on because Mommy has to get moving. I have got places to go and mountains to move. School starts in two days, and saving the world takes preparation or atleast five teacher work days. So while I am rushing and trying to get out of the house without incident, Tamia decides to have a meltdown. Her face is all scrunched up and misshapened; she's a contortionist. A sad sight to see really. Now we are both absolutely heartbroken.
What's a TeacherMom to do? The clock is ticking, and so is my head at this point. Luckily, AutoMom kicks in, and suddenly I know just what to do. I scoop her in my arms, and calm her down, like only a Mommy can. And as they say,"in a matter of seconds," she's quiet, and all is right with the world again.
So I finally make it out of the door, and I at this point I feel pretty good about how I handled the situation. A sigh of relief escapes as I get in my car, and as luck would have it, my car doesn't start. So now I sit in the front seat of my car debating whether or not to go back into the house to wake my sleeping husband. I hesitate-- not because he is asleep and tired from working all night, but because I realize that I now have to contend with Tamia again. Poor baby. Even poorer Mommy. I look up to see her standing at the storm door wondering why my car hasn't moved. Dang. I walk hesitantly into the house, and Tamia immediately jumps into my arms and stays there until my husband starts my car. Now, a new delimma presents itself. The dreaded second departure. Can I take another meltdown before 7:30 am? But, just as I brace myself for the second meltdown, I realize that Tamia is calm, and I’m not exactly sure what has happened. I guess an extra "5 minutes" together was all she needed, because when I walk out the door a second time, she's much better, and so am I.
Later that day, an earthquake happened, and I didn't even feel it. Maybe it's because I'd already experienced a mini quake-Tamia's morning meltdown. Although low on the Richter Scale, it was big enough to affect this Mommy's heart.
This morning before I get ready to leave for work, I notice that Jamera is visibly tired. Her usual gleam is not present, and her movements are deliberately sluggish. Not a good thing. I have to shake, I mean wake her up. I have to get her to snap out of her sleep-induced trance because she has a busy day ahead of her. She has been tasked with keeping Tamia.
Now mind you, when Tamia wakes up, she hits the ground running; she’s been walking since 8 ½ months, so it's safe to say that now at 11 ½ months, she’s a sprinter. But putting all that aside, when Tamia first wakes up all she wants is her mommy. This demand is non-negotiable. Dilemma: a sleepy big sister and a mommy-loving sprinter; not a good combination. But the task must be passed on because Mommy has to get moving. I have got places to go and mountains to move. School starts in two days, and saving the world takes preparation or atleast five teacher work days. So while I am rushing and trying to get out of the house without incident, Tamia decides to have a meltdown. Her face is all scrunched up and misshapened; she's a contortionist. A sad sight to see really. Now we are both absolutely heartbroken.
What's a TeacherMom to do? The clock is ticking, and so is my head at this point. Luckily, AutoMom kicks in, and suddenly I know just what to do. I scoop her in my arms, and calm her down, like only a Mommy can. And as they say,"in a matter of seconds," she's quiet, and all is right with the world again.
So I finally make it out of the door, and I at this point I feel pretty good about how I handled the situation. A sigh of relief escapes as I get in my car, and as luck would have it, my car doesn't start. So now I sit in the front seat of my car debating whether or not to go back into the house to wake my sleeping husband. I hesitate-- not because he is asleep and tired from working all night, but because I realize that I now have to contend with Tamia again. Poor baby. Even poorer Mommy. I look up to see her standing at the storm door wondering why my car hasn't moved. Dang. I walk hesitantly into the house, and Tamia immediately jumps into my arms and stays there until my husband starts my car. Now, a new delimma presents itself. The dreaded second departure. Can I take another meltdown before 7:30 am? But, just as I brace myself for the second meltdown, I realize that Tamia is calm, and I’m not exactly sure what has happened. I guess an extra "5 minutes" together was all she needed, because when I walk out the door a second time, she's much better, and so am I.
Later that day, an earthquake happened, and I didn't even feel it. Maybe it's because I'd already experienced a mini quake-Tamia's morning meltdown. Although low on the Richter Scale, it was big enough to affect this Mommy's heart.
Saturday, August 20, 2011
"From Driver's Ed. to Diapers"
Talk about a big gap, not the gap between my two front teeth that my orthodondist was able to close because that was a big gap too, but the gap between my daughters' ages - Jamera, 15 years and Tamia, 11 months.
Jamera, my first love, was born in December of 1995. I call her my "trial and error" baby; my just try it and if it works, keep doing it baby. Thank God, she's normal! Jamera is simply put- a sweetheart. I could not have asked for a more loving and thoughtful child. Has she tested me, YES. Have we learned from it, YES. And we're still learning. Jamera is now a junior in high school and a varsity cheerleader. She's both talented and driven when it comes to cheering, but getting her to apply those qualities to the other aspects of her life is where my challenge begins. She is worth it.
Tamia, my "whoops baby," was born in September 2010. I call her my "if you want to make God laugh tell Him your plans" baby. I'm glad He knew best because Tamia has changed our lives. We are happier; we laugh more, we live- period! I have never known such a small child to possess so much personality and vivacity. She is a little person with a plan, and she wakes each day with an idea of how to achieve it. Her eyes say, "I hope you're ready." Some days I am; some days I'm not. She too is worth the challenge.
So at the tender age of 37, I start anew. My hips ache; I have tendonitis, and a husband. But somehow my life is full. Full of cheers and plans not yet achieved, but I welcome it all. Because whether I'm ready or not, it's ALL coming!
Jamera, my first love, was born in December of 1995. I call her my "trial and error" baby; my just try it and if it works, keep doing it baby. Thank God, she's normal! Jamera is simply put- a sweetheart. I could not have asked for a more loving and thoughtful child. Has she tested me, YES. Have we learned from it, YES. And we're still learning. Jamera is now a junior in high school and a varsity cheerleader. She's both talented and driven when it comes to cheering, but getting her to apply those qualities to the other aspects of her life is where my challenge begins. She is worth it.
Tamia, my "whoops baby," was born in September 2010. I call her my "if you want to make God laugh tell Him your plans" baby. I'm glad He knew best because Tamia has changed our lives. We are happier; we laugh more, we live- period! I have never known such a small child to possess so much personality and vivacity. She is a little person with a plan, and she wakes each day with an idea of how to achieve it. Her eyes say, "I hope you're ready." Some days I am; some days I'm not. She too is worth the challenge.
So at the tender age of 37, I start anew. My hips ache; I have tendonitis, and a husband. But somehow my life is full. Full of cheers and plans not yet achieved, but I welcome it all. Because whether I'm ready or not, it's ALL coming!
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