"If you bungle raising your children, I don't think whatever else you do well matters very much." - Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis.
I particularly like this statement in this moment, with my arm in a sling, needing help. My offspringers are being deliciously helpful. Watering plants. Curling my hair. Staying close (but not too close). Carrying things. And most importantly, asking how I'm doing, if I need anything. They are lovely people. I'm just happy to know them. To get to call them my own is beyond the edge of living my dream.
Over the Christmas Holiday break we went to the Sciencenter. I thought we would see lots of sciencey things. Which we did. But even better was the surprise greeting in the queue and entry area. These marvelous suspended shining balls. Art. I suppose it should be expected. Art in science. Science in Art. But it surprised me in a lovely way.
Without a picture, you might think I'm referencing my children.
But look! I'm talking about these pretty white climbers coming up the bamboo faux Christmas tree in my backyard. I planted several different varieties and these are the hardiest. They've just powered up the stakes since they went in as seedlings in November. They are the first to bloom.
Please consider this a bit of cheer on a cold winter's day from me and the left coast.
Let's get this straight, my husband, he's my knight in shining armor and my permanent Valentine, but let's talk about this gal. She's my mom. My very first Valentine.
Last night, for Valentine's Day (and to celebrate Chinese New Year) the fam and Mom went to a lovely Chinese dinner. We were all Valentinesy and had such a great time chatting and laughing and eating our favorites. On the way out, I slipped on a piece of ice, lying in wait on the paver tiles, and ended up with a dislocated shoulder. After the flurry of help from the restaurant folk (sit in this chair, take this ice), my dear husband whisked me off in his Valentine's carriage to the ER.
Mom had met us at the restaurant and took my kiddos home for jammies, calm and prayers for me.
While we were waiting for help (read: medication, then help, the dislocated shoulder is a painful thing) the kids checked in, Mom checked in, we reported back and everyone seemed to settle in their spots. My girlie drifted off to sleep on the couch and my boy and Mom watched the Olympics.
When we finally got home, she was right there. Ready to help me get into jammies and then bed. She'd designed a system of pillows to support me so I would be as comfortable as possible. (Oh, I was comfortable. They'd come up with some dreamy meds so they could manipulate my arm back into place.) She kissed my head and my husband and scooted home in her purple minivan.
And what I remember is this: she's 82 and had gall bladder surgery just over a month ago. She called when she got home to be sure I was OK. She called again this morning to see how I'm doing and to remind me that my chickens can help out, quite well. She wants me to rest.
I'm tremendously blessed. I have a pretty cute mom, who is good in a crunch and loves to be needed.