Saturday, December 3, 2016

Old Enough

Herself speaks.

Years and years ago - twenty-three years, in fact - one Saturday morning, I sat in a restaurant with my family and Beloved Husband's family to have brunch in celebration of Offspring the First's baptism. It was a lovely service, and had gone smoothly; three-month-old Offspring the First had noisily sucked on her fist during the ceremony, much to the amusement of everyone since the sound was caught and projected by the priest's microphone. It was a bit of humor in the otherwise solemn service.

I was still learning the ropes of New Mothering. The trauma of Offspring the First's difficult delivery had started to fade, thank goodness; and she and I had, after much effort and many tears (primarily on my part) figured out the mechanics of breastfeeding. She nursed well and promptly drifted off into a heavy-cheeked sleep. She often smiled, and looked interestedly at the tiny board books I showed her. I was tired, but I enjoyed her, so much. She was such a good baby with whom to begin my motherhood path.

In the restaurant, Grandma took Offspring the First from me so that I could eat. And as she held my daughter, my mother proclaimed to everyone at the table:

"I don't feel old enough to be her grandmother. I feel like her mother."


I took my child back from her shortly thereafter. No one should feel like Offspring the First's mother, except for me.

Now, over two decades later, I have begun to comprehend what my mother said -- for twice over the past few weeks, I have been asked: "Do you have grandchildren?"


My first internal reaction is incredulity: Good Gravy, do I look grandmother-ly? Realistically, though, it is certainly biologically possible at this point for my Offspring to have reproduced -- so it is not an unreasonable question. Still, it makes me sad to have so clearly moved into this age group.

I do not feel old enough to be anyone's grandmother.

I finally understand, Mom.

In the fullness of time, if my Offspring have offspring of their own, I will embrace grandmother-hood. There must be something truly enjoyable about participating in the fun parts of a wee person's life without the onus of the grittier parts of parenthood. And I like babies, and toddlers, very much.

It has been so long since I have held a sleeping young person in my arms.

I will say one thing, though: I will never say that I feel like someone's mother, unless I am, in fact, their mother. Motherhood, in all its magnificent complexity, is wrought through pain and joy, through success and failure, day by day by day -- moment by moment, even. It is an experience unique to each woman, and it is not for me to lay claim to any experience other than my own.

I mother three human beings -- that is all. I nurture others. I might help nurture a grandchild, in due course. That is up to the Offspring. We shall see.

Myself, a lifetime ago. 

Friday, December 2, 2016

Shoulder Warmer

She spends all her time trying to stuff herself into a warm place - under a sweatshirt, under the blankets, between my neck and the back of the couch.... It's a rough life for a Tiny Dog.

Thursday, December 1, 2016

I Do Love An Evergreen

As spotted on a nearby college campus. 

Wednesday, November 30, 2016

And Tequila

Further to yesterday's Whiskey post, another alcohol-related earworm: You and Tequila (Kenney Chesney).

'Cause you and Tequila make me crazy
Run like poison in my blood
One more night could kill me, baby
One is one too many, one more is never enough

I hope you enjoy.

Tuesday, November 29, 2016


Today's earworm: Tennessee Whiskey (Chris Stapleton).

Seems like it would be Just Right for a bit of slow dancing.

I hope you enjoy.

Monday, November 28, 2016

Wee Fire Pit

Offspring the Third built a fire pit in the back yard and tried it out yesterday evening. It worked well. And it made me long for campfires and woods and dark star-laden skies, and I wonder when -- oh, when -- will I have those things again?

Sunday, November 27, 2016

Giving of Thanks

Holidays over
Offspring back to school
Friend off to points north

House empty, heart full.