A tiny seed….

 

Sometimes as my kids grow….

I grow willingly.

And then sometimes….I fight it with everything I have.

I struggle with growth as if I am allergic to it.

Lately…That is what has been happening.

THAT is why I haven’t wriiten NEARLY as much as I wish I would have.

I just couldn’t.

My family is changing and growing…..

and I am struggling with it.

Maybe it is just that I got comfortable with the. way. things. were.

I mean really…Jay and I met in 1998.

Zeek was born in 2000.

It’s almost 2013.

We have been in this whole “having babies” stage for a LONG time.

Now that Sheba is 7….I have come to terms with the fact that I will have no more babies.

Gasp…..My uterus just winced.   That thought actually hurts.

I used to think that I REALLY wanted more kids.

Like a few more….

But as my kids have grown and life has gotten more, lets say….complicated-, I have come to realize that I don’t really want more babies…I just don’t want this phase to be over.

I don’t want them to grow.

I mean…I do.

But….I don’t.

I am excited to see who they will be.  I am excited to see them develop and be all well rounded.

I just want them to stay right here and all mine.

I am struggling with them evolving.

Can they be well traveled and never leave?

No? Really?

CRAP.

I am starting to wrap my mind around the fact that

I

NEED

TO

FACE

THIS.

I need to face the TRUTH.

Wishing it wouldn't happen will not help.

The only thing I can do is TRY to grow with them.

This is happening…like it or not.

The way I figure it…..after this is all said and done-

Who knows WHO we will be?

Who knows WHERE all this growth and change will take us.

Who knows what kind of people we are growing.

And who knows what kind of people we are GROWING INTO.

Scary…but exciting at the same time.

I have to admit…..

Sometimes…when I let my mind RUN.

I  feel a tiny, miniscule, barely noticeable seed of excitement.

Maybe.

Progress….ish.

A few weeks ago we were having a nice leisurely family evening.

We had a great dinner, and were just sitting down to watch a little TV.  All was going well…..

UNTIL….

Sheba  came into the living room.

She had a paper, a pen, and ….

THE SCALE.

Like- the scale out of my bathroom that actually has written on it in PERMANENT MARKER, “You are MORE than this number.”

Yeah…

That

Scale.

The one I WANT to not care about.

The one I TELL my daughters doesn’t matter.

THAT ONE.

UUUGGGHHHH.

What the hell?

“Mom…I’m making a CHART of what everyone weighs!”

Inside I cringed.

I think I actually threw up in my mouth.

But she was so happy and ready and smart and cute.

While the rest of the family WILLINGLING hopped on the scale…

I planned my “escape route”…

How would I avoid MY TURN?

One by one Sheba called them into the kitchen and they weighed themselves.

Then sheba wrote their names and their weight on her “chart”.

Awesome.

Kinda.

They were all so pleased and WILLING.

Jay actually said, “WOW!!!  184!!!  I have never weighed THAT much! SWEET!”

Really?

Gag.

Big deal…I weighed 185 when I went into the hospital with Zeek.

It

wasn’t

THAT

hard.

He acted like he wanted a medal.

I wanted to slap him.

LOL.

Not really…well, kinda.

Then it was my turn.

I tried to say that I didn’t want to participate..

I was cooking dinner.

I was cleaning.

I was busy.

I tried them ALL.

They weren’t buying it.

They wanted a number on the chart.

Uggghhhh.

Shashamane actually SAID, “Mom…You say that we are beautiful NO MATTER WHAT.  You say it shouldn’t matter what you weigh. GET. ON. THE. SCALE.”

Seriously? Some days I think…"It was so much easier when they didn’t SPEAK.”

So I faced my fears.

I got on the scale.

I did it.

Right after I sent them ALL in the other room to watch a “really funny TV show”….

I got on the scale..

Then I subtracted 20 pounds and wrote down “my weight” on the chart.

I mean really….

I love myself and all.

I want to set a great example.

I WANT to not care.

But I am REAL.

I am a work in progress.

And let’s be real…

I haven’t made THAT much progress.

LOL.