As I am approaching the inevitable wind-up of the summer with my two young daughters, I would like to reflect on the time that has passed and what we have accomplished and learned.
Thank you to my oldest daughter for reminding me daily that she is not me. Children are their own people, with their own thoughts, personalities, and feelings. This sounds obvious. But as parents, we often get so wound up and focused on what we think the best thing for them to do or way to act or be is. That may have been the best thing for us to do, but maybe it's not for them. I am learning to embrace her different viewpoints, strengths, and weaknesses and help her to become whatever she wants to be. But no, that does not include being a professional Sims player and drinking twelve juice boxes a day.
Thank you both for making sure I was ok after I stepped into a wasps' nest and was stung eight times. Yes, you initially assumed all my jumping and screaming was because I saw a spider but, hey, I earned that reputation. But when I actually started crying from the sheer pain, you stepped up to the plate and relentlessly insisted I went to the doctor to make sure I was ok.
Thank you for insisting that we get a puppy. This thank you may be a little strained. I do not need a puppy. I do not need to spend my time housebreaking a dog and having to be back at certain times to let the dog out. The list of reasons to not get a dog goes on and on. But you begged and begged and I thought if I didn't get you one, I wouldn't be able to forgive myself for depriving you of something you believed to be a crucial part of your childhood. So, I gave in and we loaded up in the car with our closest friends and made the three and a half hour drive to New Jersey to get this prized Miniature Goldendoodle puppy. She is so adorable and, yes, we fell in love with her instantly. You girls were amazing the first few days and took her out, cleaned up her mess, and played with her ad nauseam. But now you've been gone with your dad to Cleveland for the past five days and it's just been the dog and me. Wow, just like everyone said, it's like having a baby. Now, I've always wanted three kids and I guess this will have to do for now. I just wish the third one didn't have such sharp teeth. I mean seriously, she's like a shark. All I want to do is cuddle with her but all she wants to do is gnaw on me. She's anxiously awaiting for you girls to come back!!
And let's not forget about the 19 year old cat that is petrified of the dog and now won't come downstairs. I'm not kidding. The cat now lives upstairs. I'll hear him meowing for me to come to the stairwell. It's like Animal Kingdom around here. And crap, I haven't fed your fish since you left for Cleveland. Good times.
Girls, I'm still confused as to what happened with your love for the pool this summer. Why did you ask to spend money on an expensive pool membership, then every time we packed up the fifteen to twenty pounds of gear and got all slathered up with suntan lotion, after 15 minutes you were "bored" and wanted to go home? What happened? Last year I couldn't get you to leave the pool. When I asked you, "what's the deal?" You provided no real answer. I still don't get it. It's kind of annoying though, so I hope you figure it out by next summer.
Thank you for saving my life when we went horseback riding this summer. Although the two of you have had summer lessons for years when we visit Grandma and Grandpa, I don't think I have ever been on a horse when it's been moving. When Grandma signed us up for the hour trail ride with the guide, thinking all the horses were tied together and just followed each other in an orderly manner for the duration, we learned the hard way this wasn't the case. They put me on the largest, most obstinate horse that wanted to screw with me the entire time by walking "through" the trees instead of on the trail. Thank you for yelling directions to me the whole time. Otherwise, instead of just an anxiety attack, some missing hair, almost losing an eye, and numerous open wounds from the trees, I might be in Mexico with that horse by now.
Thank you for going back and forth between two different houses and rarely complaining. I know there is nothing easy about your parents being in different places. Thank you for making it easier for your father and I by being so mature, strong, and resilient.
Thanks to my youngest daughter for reminding me daily what commitment and hard work look like. Not that I didn't know because I believe she partially got these traits from me, but if ever I should waiver or want to quit when the going gets tough, I just look at her and think, "no way." In addition to being a cancer survivor, she is the hardest working person I know and she is only 8. As just one example, she puts in hours and hours of practice each week in what feels like a 100-degree gym during the summer months and never, ever complains.
Most importantly, thank you for making me slow down, put down my phone and watch the dances you made up and the plays you created, watch the new flips you learned on the trampoline, look at the pictures you drew and listen to the stories you read. Thank you for being you and for helping me to be a better me. Gosh, I love you more than you will ever know.
Now let's go live up the last three weeks of summer!