Having a baby girl was no less or more of a blessing than having a son eight years prior. It was just different. How much fun it would be to dress a little girl in pink and frills. Having a delicate little girl would be different.
I suppose the kicking, while carrying her, should have been the first indication that a lack of delicacy existed. This girl could be a place kicker for a major football team. A fact further confirmed when at two months old she kicked so hard that a stray string in her sleeper wound so tight around her toe that only a doctor could remove it. It was one of those times when, as a mother, one feels totally inadequate for the job. In my defense, I did all the appropriate things when her not so tiny and not so delicate crying persisted. I tried feeding her, checked her diaper, and a myriad of other tactics. Who would think that her crying had to do with the pains of fashion. It was the last time she wore a sleeper, but not the last time that she dictated what she would wear.
At two years old her favorite shoes were cowboy boots. Her favorite top; a sweatshirt. Daily I chose a feminine outfit for her to wear. Daily, she would raid the laundry basket for yesterday’s sweatshirt. I left her in frills, only to have her appear moments later in a comfortable not so feminine shirt that needed washing. Already suffering from motherhood inadequacy, I determined that it was better to have the world know that I occasionally did laundry and I soon gave up on frills, lace and flowers. Pink? Forget it. Pink wasn’t a color according to her. It seems that I had a preconceived idea of what a little girl should be that didn’t exist.
Today we went shopping. By now, I know her adversity to lace, ribbons, and flourishings and yet I still have visions of delicacy and beauty in today’s purchase. Some ideas seem to persist despite all logical reasoning. I still have that preconceived idea of the delicate, soft, feminine look in girls’ fashion. As she walks out of the dressing room, I am happy that I never gave up hope. Until today I never noticed how much her white sweatshirts complimented her dark complexion and hair. While she isn’t wearing a lot of lace and embellishments, she is feminine and dazzling. The bagginess of the sweatshirt is gone, revealing simple curves. The dress is sleek, plain and eloquent. I guess, sometimes a mother just has to hang tight to see her visions materialize. What a stunning bride she will make. Sometimes a mother just knows.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Saturday, May 12, 2007
Mother's Day
Say It With Weeds
It's the time of year when little yellow flowers start to overtake the lawn. Perhaps you're not partial to this plant and refuse to call it anything but a weed. "Dandelions, that blooming weed." It seems appropriate that Mother's Day and dandelion season should occur at the same time of the year. When I see adandelion, I usually think of mom.
Remember when you were a child? Probably one of your first gifts to your mom was a bouquet of dandelions. It's likely that they were carefully picked to yield a handful of flowers on stems that ranged from 1/8" to 2" long. Before presenting them to Mom, the smaller stemmed flowers melted in your hand leaving a yellow stain as a memento of your thoughtfulness. The tightly held bouquet was a simple gift, which made the message attached to it very evident. Only a mother could love something so small, simple and unruly. (The reference is to the dandelions, not the child, although an argument for either could be made.) Regardless of type, flowers seem to be synonymous with mothers and Mother's Day.
Anna Jarvis is usually given credit for the modern-day Mother's Day observance. Two years after her mother died, on the second Sunday of May, she invited friends to her home and told them of her plans to start a Mother's Day. She began a campaign for the national observance. On May 10, 1908, three years after her mother's death, a service in her WestVirginia church, as well as a Philadelphia church service, honored mothers. Miss Jarvis furnished carnations, her mother's favorite flower, to all who attended the service. In 1910, the governor of West Virginia issued a Mother's Day proclamation and soon many states followed suit. On May 7, 1940, a resolution was introduced in Congress to make the second Sunday in May a national holiday: Mother's Day. Two days later, President Wilson ordered the Stars and Stripes to be flown on this holiday. Churches initially carried out the celebration, but later the holiday expanded to include sending various gifts to Mom. Miss Jarvis disliked the commercialism that had become part of the Mother's Day observance. She felt so strongly about the business-type promotion of Mother's Day that she pursued litigation. Despite her attempts to restore the original means of celebrating, the buying of gifts for Mom continued. It persisted and expanded in an effort to show Mom that she is loved.
Perhaps this year's gift of jewelry might effectively show your affection to Mom. Maybe a phone call or a card could convey the message. A hybrid plant could succeed in showing Mom that she is cherished. A dandelion bouquet with a kiss…well, she knew she was special to your when she received it when you were young.
It's the time of year when little yellow flowers start to overtake the lawn. Perhaps you're not partial to this plant and refuse to call it anything but a weed. "Dandelions, that blooming weed." It seems appropriate that Mother's Day and dandelion season should occur at the same time of the year. When I see adandelion, I usually think of mom.
Remember when you were a child? Probably one of your first gifts to your mom was a bouquet of dandelions. It's likely that they were carefully picked to yield a handful of flowers on stems that ranged from 1/8" to 2" long. Before presenting them to Mom, the smaller stemmed flowers melted in your hand leaving a yellow stain as a memento of your thoughtfulness. The tightly held bouquet was a simple gift, which made the message attached to it very evident. Only a mother could love something so small, simple and unruly. (The reference is to the dandelions, not the child, although an argument for either could be made.) Regardless of type, flowers seem to be synonymous with mothers and Mother's Day.
Anna Jarvis is usually given credit for the modern-day Mother's Day observance. Two years after her mother died, on the second Sunday of May, she invited friends to her home and told them of her plans to start a Mother's Day. She began a campaign for the national observance. On May 10, 1908, three years after her mother's death, a service in her WestVirginia church, as well as a Philadelphia church service, honored mothers. Miss Jarvis furnished carnations, her mother's favorite flower, to all who attended the service. In 1910, the governor of West Virginia issued a Mother's Day proclamation and soon many states followed suit. On May 7, 1940, a resolution was introduced in Congress to make the second Sunday in May a national holiday: Mother's Day. Two days later, President Wilson ordered the Stars and Stripes to be flown on this holiday. Churches initially carried out the celebration, but later the holiday expanded to include sending various gifts to Mom. Miss Jarvis disliked the commercialism that had become part of the Mother's Day observance. She felt so strongly about the business-type promotion of Mother's Day that she pursued litigation. Despite her attempts to restore the original means of celebrating, the buying of gifts for Mom continued. It persisted and expanded in an effort to show Mom that she is loved.
Perhaps this year's gift of jewelry might effectively show your affection to Mom. Maybe a phone call or a card could convey the message. A hybrid plant could succeed in showing Mom that she is cherished. A dandelion bouquet with a kiss…well, she knew she was special to your when she received it when you were young.
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