I bought my youngest daughter a book for her birthday called, "Llama, llama, Red Pajamas." It's a sweet book and I read it to her almost every night this summer. I wrote a personal message to her on the inside cover and I had to read that each night, too. She laughed every time I would say, "...and your momma, even though I am not a llama...loves you very much."
This summer I only had my 2 little girls, Lily and Sarah. Lily turned 6 in June and Sarah Grace is 8. My other girls, 11 and 14 were at their dad's. We had a great summer, me and the little ones, but I wanted to connect with my older girls. I don't think any of us were meant to be apart, not now. They are too young and I am too much of a mommy. Yet, it was what it was, and Reagan and Meghan were pretty much unavailable.
One night, this momma, even though I am not a llama, found a way to reach my teenager.
I was waiting on Lily to brush her teeth, and I was already in the bed, with the Llama book, waiting...So, I typed a quick text to Meghan. She wrote back and then Lily was ready for me to read. I was able to stall her a few minutes but she wasn't into "stalling"...
Here's where I found a way to connect.
I called Meghan, she answered, I put her on speaker and I read the book to Sarah, Lily and Meghan. Meghan stayed on the phone, too and listened to the whole story. In fact, she was spending the night at a friend's house and her friend listened, also.
When we said our goodnights, I sent her several picture text messages of the book. The last one I sent her was a picture of the llama screaming and wanting the momma!
I tucked Lily and Sarah in with a sense of accomplishment. It is extremely difficult to reach any teen, much less a teen with great pain and loss in her heart. I found a way to reach my teen daughter that night. This momma, even though I am not a llama, found a way.
I went to Target the very next day and bought Meghan a "Llama, llama, Red Pajama" book. I inscribed a message on the inside cover for her and then decided that I would make this book a part of a family tradition come Christmas time.
It is just a few days from December and I have wrapped the matching red pajamas. Matching pj's every year is our little thing we do. Sarah, Reagan and Jeb will get a "Llama, llama, Red Pajama" book to go with their jammies. This momma, even though I am not a llama, wants to stay connected.
Raising kids is hard.
Raising teenagers is hard.
Love is hard.
Divorce is hard.
Life is hard.
We can come up with a hundred and one ways why we can't connect to our teens, or kids, or even each other. There will always be a reason why we can't connect; a meeting, a phone call, a headache, a house to clean, laundry to do and bills to pay. Love, affection or attention rejected. Connecting is hard.
But do you want to know what is harder than connecting?
Not connecting.
Living my life the last three years has been extremely difficult with my kids going in different and separate directions and not having them with me twenty four seven. The one thing I know that I know, however, is we have had connections. I was a momma, even though I am not a llama, that connected with her kids. I may have made some poor decisions and I have definitely made some messes, but I have always connected with my kids.
I will not sit here and tell you connecting is easy, either. It is hard. As babies, breastfeeding is connecting. Connecting at midnight, 3am, 5am, getting a babysitter for 1 hour at a time because you are the only one that can provide that particular connection. Baby #4, Miss Sarah Grace never took a bottle...ever.
As toddlers, connecting is accepting that your whole day is cleaning up messes, wiping faces, tying shoes, picking up toys, scraping Play-Dough off the floor, wiping up spills, giving baths, reading the SAME book 20 times per day, tucking in and getting up to do it all over again the next day.
As they start school accepting is hurry up and wait. Time has added a new dimension to connecting and the tardy bell is something to avoid at all costs. Lunches to pack, breakfast to fix, homework to do...everything has a deadline that never seems long enough. You then go to the opposite end of the time issue and wait. Wait in the carpool line, wait at the dentist office, wait for baseball practice to get over, wait in the lobby while they are in Ballet class.
I would give almost anything to peek in the window at the dance studio again. Yes, it's waiting for 45 minutes while you have such a tight schedule and 2 loads of laundry and a bathroom can get cleaned in time like that...but she'll never be 2 again with a blond bobbed haircut with a giant pink bow to match her tights and tutu...and she'll never hesitate the way she does now, running in and out of dance class wanting 5 kisses and 3 hugs just to make it through warm-ups. That's connecting.
I haven't cornered the market on connecting in middle and high school. I'm still on the learning curve. I learned to make a Facebook page, I learned what IMingBeiber's songs and I work-out to my 14 year old's music on her I-pod. I found a rock band I actually like while my 16 year old and his friends are in the van...we all know the words. My new favorite song is by Marco Bruno, and it's my 11 year old's favorite, too.
I think that's connecting.
Not connecting is regret.
Regret that you had clean dishes and an organized room worthy of a Pottery barn catalog but you don't remember their favorite book or song, or who had blanket rather than a "paci" because you connected with Mr. Clean instead of your kids.
Regret is skipping the football game on Friday night and just dropping them off because you had a hard day at work and you are simply too tired. They won't hang out with you anyway, they will just be running around with their friends, asking you for money to get something at the concession stand every 5 minutes and they will definitely embarrass you in front of your old high school buddies.
It takes me much effort and cost each year to find matching pajamas. This year was just as difficult. How do you find matching red pajamas in size 5, 7, 11, 14 and high school boys small, that they will actually wear more than on Christmas morning? Well, I did. I have had to be creative over the years and "matching" has been same colors, different patterns, boxers and nightgowns, t-shirts and tank tops, etc...
It's what they expect. It's what they know. Ask them. In the midst of loss and pain and heartache and tears. What do we do on Christmas Eve? From each of my kids you will hear a very sarcastic, don't you know, silly voice, like they really think it's stupid..."Open our matching pajamas."
Jeb and Meghan had the first pair of matching pajamas in this family. They were red. This year, Jeb, Meghan, Reagan, Sarah and Lily will all have matching pajamas again. They will be red. So, you see, connecting is
But do you want to know what is harder than connecting?
Not connecting.
Living my life the last three years has been extremely difficult with my kids going in different and separate directions and not having them with me twenty four seven. The one thing I know that I know, however, is we have had connections. I was a momma, even though I am not a llama, that connected with her kids. I may have made some poor decisions and I have definitely made some messes, but I have always connected with my kids.
I will not sit here and tell you connecting is easy, either. It is hard. As babies, breastfeeding is connecting. Connecting at midnight, 3am, 5am, getting a babysitter for 1 hour at a time because you are the only one that can provide that particular connection. Baby #4, Miss Sarah Grace never took a bottle...ever.
As toddlers, connecting is accepting that your whole day is cleaning up messes, wiping faces, tying shoes, picking up toys, scraping Play-Dough off the floor, wiping up spills, giving baths, reading the SAME book 20 times per day, tucking in and getting up to do it all over again the next day.
As they start school accepting is hurry up and wait. Time has added a new dimension to connecting and the tardy bell is something to avoid at all costs. Lunches to pack, breakfast to fix, homework to do...everything has a deadline that never seems long enough. You then go to the opposite end of the time issue and wait. Wait in the carpool line, wait at the dentist office, wait for baseball practice to get over, wait in the lobby while they are in Ballet class.
I would give almost anything to peek in the window at the dance studio again. Yes, it's waiting for 45 minutes while you have such a tight schedule and 2 loads of laundry and a bathroom can get cleaned in time like that...but she'll never be 2 again with a blond bobbed haircut with a giant pink bow to match her tights and tutu...and she'll never hesitate the way she does now, running in and out of dance class wanting 5 kisses and 3 hugs just to make it through warm-ups. That's connecting.
I haven't cornered the market on connecting in middle and high school. I'm still on the learning curve. I learned to make a Facebook page, I learned what IMingBeiber's songs and I work-out to my 14 year old's music on her I-pod. I found a rock band I actually like while my 16 year old and his friends are in the van...we all know the words. My new favorite song is by Marco Bruno, and it's my 11 year old's favorite, too.
I think that's connecting.
Not connecting is regret.
Regret that you had clean dishes and an organized room worthy of a Pottery barn catalog but you don't remember their favorite book or song, or who had blanket rather than a "paci" because you connected with Mr. Clean instead of your kids.
Regret is skipping the football game on Friday night and just dropping them off because you had a hard day at work and you are simply too tired. They won't hang out with you anyway, they will just be running around with their friends, asking you for money to get something at the concession stand every 5 minutes and they will definitely embarrass you in front of your old high school buddies.
It takes me much effort and cost each year to find matching pajamas. This year was just as difficult. How do you find matching red pajamas in size 5, 7, 11, 14 and high school boys small, that they will actually wear more than on Christmas morning? Well, I did. I have had to be creative over the years and "matching" has been same colors, different patterns, boxers and nightgowns, t-shirts and tank tops, etc...
It's what they expect. It's what they know. Ask them. In the midst of loss and pain and heartache and tears. What do we do on Christmas Eve? From each of my kids you will hear a very sarcastic, don't you know, silly voice, like they really think it's stupid..."Open our matching pajamas."
Jeb and Meghan had the first pair of matching pajamas in this family. They were red. This year, Jeb, Meghan, Reagan, Sarah and Lily will all have matching pajamas again. They will be red. So, you see, connecting is
matching red pajamas.
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