Sunday, July 12, 2015

For me and my comrades in arms

I had a very busy weekend.  It consisted of a birthday party that my daughter attended for one of her classmates, taking my son to his karate class, a blocking rehearsal for my daughters' end of the year dance show, and a dress rehearsal for the same show where I am helping backstage as a quick-changer for those little children who have only a minute or two to get back on stage with every costume detail in place and a happy smile on their face.

The one thing that struck me during this whirlwind of madness, was the camaraderie of the women standing around me.  The moms.

Some of these beautiful women I have known for many years, some for only a few days or months.  But we have a connection, a bond.  As we sit for long hours waiting for our children to be done, we learn about each others lives, our woes, and our fears.  We laugh at each others stories and pass the tissues when one of us just can't hold the emotion in any longer.  Sitting there, side by side, we somehow feel like we are a part of something bigger than ourselves...a community, and maybe, like a family.

I cherish these women, for helping me feel normal.  For watching after my kiddos.  For talking me through my doubts and insecurities.  For not putting me down if I don't have it all together.  For not competing with me like we are on some sort of race to the finish line.  And for just sitting next to me in silence when our children are in the spotlight. 

Yes, they have a few more curves than they did when they were in their twenties, more wrinkles and dark circles under their eyes, more scars...both literally and figuratively.  And I am sure that they wonder, like I do, how time has flown by, and what ever happened to that twenty-something year old woman??

Well I am here to say that that young woman has developed into a beautiful, courageous, smarter, sophisticated, warrior-like Goddess who has an army of comrades by her side.  We are fierce.  And we are ready to fight to the death if you hurt one of our babies.

Thank you, women.  You have helped in so many little ways over the years. 

So lift up that glass of sangria, or bottle of cold beer, or whippy frappucino that you so well deserve and toast to the end of another successful day, where no one killed each other, everyone got fed, they all got bathed, and the bills that were most important got paid.  I salute you.  From my heart to yours, you deserve the moon and the stars and everything in between.  I am here for you, my friends.


Here is a snapshot of my eldest daughter Gwen's baby book...
back when I was twenty-eight and thought that I pretty much had things figured out.  
Oh, how silly I was...I could not even understand the depths of emotions that were soon to unfold.  The bottom photo is of me and my Mom.  
I had developed pre-eclampsia at that time, hence the puffy face.

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