Every six months, or so, my kids go to the dentist. Yesterday was that day. The gang went in; I sat down, opened a magazine, and relaxed. It was really rather nice.
About 20 minutes into my spa retreat, a really cute 40-something lady walked in with 3 teenage girls (also super cute) all dressed up in their prep school uniforms.
I started to run over to that lady and yell. . . . . .
“Hey there! My name is Nicole. I have girls too. I have 4, and you have 3; that’s neat. We have a lot in common.”
But then I thought better of myself. That lady will really think I’m crazy, and well frankly, she might be correct. So instead, I calmly remained in my seat pretending to read my magazine, as I spied on the perfect little family sitting to my right.
It was like a dream. Maybe not your dream, but definitely mine. The mom was dressed in a really posh running suit as opposed to my, too big hippie blouse and (dare I say it) maternity jeans. . . . no I’m not pregnant. . . .Uuuggghhhh.
Her girls sat surrounding her. They whispered, chatted about this and that, giggled and smiled a lot. I even caught them eyeing me and Phoebe, with twinkles in their eyes. They seemed really happy, well behaved, and peaceful. ‘As it should be’ I thought. I could see them at Thanksgivings, Christmases, and on the Fourth of July, beautiful and happy, and happy to be beautiful. I know. Crazy thoughts go through my head.
I’m not sure how much time passed, but when I looked up I could see my girls dancing around behind the glass door that separates the office and the teeth cleaning area. The woman also looked up from her magazine, and caught my eye.
“Are those your girls?” she inquired.
“Yes.” I smiled. This is my chance. “And this little one here makes 4.”
“Oh wow,” she said. “I have 5 girls.” And you can only guess where the conversation went from there. I promptly threw myself onto the floor in front of her, sobbing and tugging at her pants.
“Lady pleeeaaaasssseeeee, tell me the key, the secret password, the magic pill, what is it? I need to know. I’m drowning, my children’s clothes don’t match, they might be malnourished, and I think I’m having a nervous break down! When am I supposed to eat, do the laundry, and mop the floor? Help me, please.”
Kidding, kidding. I didn’t really say that. I wanted to, but I didn’t. What I really said was . . . .
“Wow, yourself! Looks like things quiet and calm down a bit.”
And then the flood gates opened and my girls tromped over to me with stories of strawberry flavored fluoride, new wiggly teeth, and stickers gone amiss. Two seconds had not passed, before Soledad started screaming about a balloon that twisted itself around her ponytail and was killing her, I think. She wiggled and writhed as if in complete and utter agony, as I looked at that woman with a horror stricken face.
Her smile was gentle, and her words were kind.
“Enjoy this time. It doesn’t last forever.”
Damn lady, I thought. You must be from the mothership.
So, today I’ll try to remember, that someday, today will be the good ol’ days.
And today, I’ll hug my babies tight and smile at all their craziness.
Today, we’ll stop, take a breath, and make a craft. Simple and perfect, just like them.
Black Crayon Scratch Art
What You Need:
1 Black Crayon
Crayons of various other colors
Pencil, Non-working pen, or unbent paper clip
What To Do:
- Using your white paper, draw a square of the size picture you would like to make.
- Color in the entire square with different colored crayons. Be sure to color darkly. The more color the square the more colorful your end project.
- With the black crayon completely color over the entire square, covering up every inch of color. Your square should totally black.
- Use your pencil/pen/paper clip to scratch out your very own Picasso. Have fun!!!