“Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.”

Kahlil Gibran

Over the last month, it seems as though Fig has become more attached to me than usual.  She’s sleeping through the night now and I’m down to only two breast-feeds each day, so she may [...]]]>

“Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.”

Kahlil Gibran

Over the last month, it seems as though Fig has become more attached to me than usual.  She’s sleeping through the night now and I’m down to only two breast-feeds each day, so she may be feeling as though she has less ‘up-close-and-personal-time’ with Mama.  These days, if she’s awake, she’s glued to my hip, which makes it challenging to leave the house without her.  The girls have only really known one babysitter thus far: my mother.  Yes, we know how lucky we are to have family close by; especially a grandmother who is so willing and wonderful…but that’s another post.

Lately, every time Grandma P. comes over to watch the girls, (which is at least once each week,) Fig immediately starts following me around the house with her arms outstretched, crying, “Mama!”   Fig often has to be wrenched from my arms, before I make a quick exit.   I know that she calms down quickly, and my mom is great at distracting Fig, but it’s unpleasant, to say the least.

One morning Grandma P. managed to distract Fig while I put on my boots and coat, and grabbed my purse.  I waved silently to Mom and she nodded quickly.  Without saying anything, we knew we were both thinking the same thing: that I should get out while the getting was good!

I slipped out the door, walked down the stairs and around the house to my car.  I even sat down in the driver’s seat, and then I thought, “I can’t do it.  I can’t leave this way.”   I hadn’t said good-bye to Pip or to Fig.  It didn’t feel right.  I have always wanted to instill trust in my daughters.  I don’t want them to think that Mama can disappear at any time.  I want them to know that I’ll always be honest with them, and that I have faith they can handle any situation.

So, I went back inside.  My mom looked surprised.  ”Sorry Mom,” I said, “I don’t want to sneak out the back door, I want to say good-bye properly and face the music.”  My mom completely understood.  I gave each of my daughters a kiss and a hug and I said ‘good-bye’ before I left.  And wouldn’t you know it, Fig just looked at me and said, “Bye, Mama!”

Pip wanted to play with her cousin last week and I explained that she was having a sleep-over at Grandma P. and [...]]]> “In the final analysis it is not what you do for your children but what you have taught them to do for themselves that will make them successful human beings.”
– Ann Landers

Pip wanted to play with her cousin last week and I explained that she was having a sleep-over at Grandma P. and Grandpa R.’s house.  That was all it took.  The seed had been planted; Pip wanted a sleep-over.  We called Grandma P. to arrange a date and Pip started counting the days.

Now my parents are only a ten-minute drive away, but it was a big deal for Pip to sleep away from home.  My husband and I haven’t gone on any trips together (yet) without the kids, and any time my mom has baby-sat for us, she has come over to our house.  The plan was for my mom to pick Pip up at 2:30 pm on Friday so that they could enjoy the afternoon together, before having dinner.  Pip would spend the night with her grandparents and we’d pick her up Saturday morning.

My mom had said to me on the phone, “Now this could be a huge success, or a complete disaster,” and I agreed.  Pip had surprised me with her independence before, but she had also cried Thursday night after I left her bedroom because she missed me.  One never knows how these ‘firsts’ are going to go.  I had told Mom that it would be nice to say goodnight to Pip on the phone, but we agreed that Mom should  initiate the call instead of me,  just in case there were any rough patches.

I’ll tell you right now, the sleep-0ver was a huge success; for Pip.  What my husband and I were not prepared for, was how much we would miss her!  I’ll never forget the look on Big Daddy-O’s face when Grandma and Pip drove away from our house.  I was standing at the door with Fig, trying to ignore the ridiculous tears forming in my eyes, and my husband gave me a look that I’ve never seen before, and I’ll not soon forget.  It was a surprised, emotional look that said, ‘Can you believe how hard this is?’  He yelled up at me, “She just left and I already miss her!”

It felt so strange to be a family without Pip.  Both my husband and I have been away from Pip for at least one night before, but it was a different experience to be at home, going through our normal rituals as a family without our eldest daughter.  Of course we enjoyed our time with Fig, and  I must say that she was in her element.  She didn’t mention her sister once, she just lapped up all the undivided attention we were showering upon her.

When Fig was in the tub, both Big Daddy-O and I were in the bathroom with her, and I said, “I hope Pip calls soon.”  My husband laughed.

“I bet we’re going to be saying that a lot when she’s fifteen.”

“Seventeen.”  I countered.

Pip did indeed call shortly thereafter, and her voice sounded small and happy.  It was pretty special for Pip to have Grandma and Grandpa all to herself.   It was also special for our second child to have her parents all to herself.  In the end, I think everyone benefitted from the sleep-over.  It’s a brilliant feeling to know that there’s a place, other than home, where your child feels safe and well-loved and happy.  Thanks Mom and Dad.

During our recent family trip to Vancouver,we were lucky enough to stay in our friend’s beautiful condo at the foot of Denman St., near Stanley Park.  The [...]]]> “All of us have moments in our lives that test our courage. Taking children into a house with a white carpet is one of them.”
Erma Bombeck

During our recent family trip to Vancouver,we were lucky enough to stay in our friend’s beautiful condo at the foot of Denman St., near Stanley Park.  The suite was absolutely stunning; gorgeous furnishings, incredibly spacious, and an unbeatable view.  We felt as though we were living the lifestyle of the rich and famous.  (One slight drawback was that the carpeting was WHITE, but I simply resigned myself to the fact that we would only be bringing white food into the home.)

I had thought that it might be difficult trying to keep the girls entertained in a high-rise in the city, but I needn’t have worried.  The girls loved our new digs because there was never a shortage of action to witness; they’d watch float-planes landing every fifteen minutes, rowers practicing, boats galore, runners and cyclists on the seawall, and a plethora of sea birds soaring through the sky.  The square footage of the condo was much larger than the main floor of our house, and it was an open design, so Pip and Fig loved playing in such a large space, and I loved that I could keep an eye on them from almost anywhere in the home.

When it came time to pack up our things and leave our lovely accommodations, Pip did not want to go.  She was ready to take up residence in the city.  ”Mama,” she said, “I used to think that inside tall buildings there was dust and dirt, I didn’t think there was furniture.”

It made sense.  Sometimes high-rises can seem rather cold and industrial from the outside.  What a revelation it was for Pip to discover that behind every window there existed furniture and people and life!

I love having the opportunity to see things through my daughter’s eyes.  She sees the magic in the mundane, and we can all use a little magic now and then.

“In the end these things matter most:

How well did you love?

How fully did you love?

How deeply did you learn to let go?”

Buddha

When I was staying out at my parents’ beach house recently, I went for a walk by myself.  It was bittersweet, and [...]]]>

“In the end these things matter most:

How well did you love?

How fully did you love?

How deeply did you learn to let go?”

Buddha

When I was staying out at my parents’ beach house recently, I went for a walk by myself.  It was bittersweet, and I found myself misty-eyed as I looked at the familiar surroundings.  The trees, the beach, the forest path, the mossy meadow; they’re dear old friends of mine.  So many memories are attached to the home in which I grew up.

Today marks the day that a young couple and their dog will move into the house.  They’re expecting a child in the Spring, so our old home will be filled with new life.

As I took my walk along the beach, my mind bounced between feeling nostalgic and feeling happy for the young family that would soon enjoy this piece of West-Coast heaven.  I got to my favourite spot,  (a mossy little meadow where I used to play guitar with my friends on warm summer nights,) and I photographed my shadow.  For some reason, I was compelled to make a peace sign with my fingers, and now I know why.

It’s time.  It’s time to make peace with the fact that our old home will be enjoyed by another family.  We were fortunate to occupy it for so many years, and we’ll still be able to walk that stretch of beach whenever the spirit moves us, but it’s time to start letting go.

Buddha believed that all suffering is caused by attachment.  It’s true.  I’m attached; but I’m slowly letting go.  (I just never realized it would be so hard.)