“A Babushka Pirate Named Maude”

2f6047de1f704dcdab78920729e5b3b5A babushka pirate named Maude.  What?

I cannot even begin to tell you the meaning behind the title of this post.

Well, let’s see…

It is the last comment of a group facebook message between my daughters and me.  It is actually the culmination of 3 different conversations we had going on, at the same time, during that particular post.   The bantering went on for several hours as the girls jumped on and off facebook to add their comments.  So, no, I cannot explain exactly what it means.  Because it wouldn’t be funny.  Now.  You just had to be there.  One daughter wrote back later, I snorted (out loud) at my desk over that last comment.

The girls were being witty and snarky and playful.

And it makes my heart happy.  Still.

They are grown now, and don’t see each other often as they live miles apart.  Two in the Midwest and two in the Rockies.  Hearing them talk in conversation — even in text — makes me get all soft and sentimental inside.

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I don’t think 4 girls so different ever existed under the same roof.  I’ve said many times, there is no learning curve in raising girls.   Nothing you learn from teaching one applies to teaching the other.

When they were little, the days were filled with giggles, books, dress-up, and endless hours of pretend play.  I bought old prom dresses from consignment shops so they could be adorned in “princess” gowns for tea parties and balls.  Other days, we would spend hours in the library, and each girl would come home with a stack of books.  I had to have my own filing system at home to keep track of all those stories.

Not all days were “sunshine and lollipops” though.  I remember saying before I was a Mother, ‘when I have my kids, they will not fight with each other’.  Ha!  As in any family, there were also days of scratches, bites, mean words, and fights.  Days when one girl couldn’t stand the sight of the other.  I remember lecturing about “sisters are friends for a lifetime” and “you take this paper and pen and you write 5 things you like about your sister“.  Whew.  Some days were just like that.

Where did those little girls go?  It seemed like they would be under my feet forever.  I would do anything to have a bit of that forever back.

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Lord knows I pray for these children, these women of mine.  They are my heart.  And it makes me happy when they love on each other.  So when they are witty and playful, even snarky, I cry big ol’ Mama tears.

The girls have told me there will be 2 epitaphs on my tombstone:  On one side, “She just wanted them to get along” and “Edify, Edify” on the other.

I guess I could do worse.

The days are long, but the years fly by.

And if I ever do write “that book”, I do believe the title will be,  A Babushka Pirate Named Maude.

31 days of Joy

 

 

 

Write 31 Days

Chocolate Cookies and Her Mama

I was browsing in a local shop the other day, trying to find some little gifts to add to a care  package I was sending off later in the day.  The shop owner watched me pick up this, set down that, and then asked if she could help me find something.  I smiled and said I didn’t really know what I was looking for…  do you have anything for a broken heart?

In the shop that day, the owner’s 7 year old daughter was helping her mother unwrap new jewelry for the display case.   I was taken in by that little darling because her long wavy hair and pretty eyes reminded me of my 4 daughters.  Each one of mine is grown now:  Raising children of her own.  Waiting to have children of her own.  Trying to find her way.  And mending a broken heart.

I made small talk for awhile, and shared just a bit of my mission for the day.  As I continued around the corner and looked at some coffee mugs and wall signs, I heard the little one innocently ask her mother, ‘why is her heart broken?’.

After shopping for a bit more, nothing seemed quite right, and I decided there was probably not a purchase in this store that would meet my needs.   As I walked back to the counter, I could hear the shop owner and her little girl whispering.   The Mom looked up as I approached and said, ‘I asked her if she was away at college and had a broken heart, what would she like me to send her.  She said, I would want chocolate chocolate_mint_cookies-2-1024x1024cookies and you’.

Out of the mouths of babes…

No matter if a little girl is 7, 17 or 27, if her heart is sad, if she is hurting, she wants the same thing.

Chocolate cookies and her Mama.

As I said my good-byes to them, with tears in my eyes, I said, ‘enjoy her today… ‘.   That young mother stared back at me with tears of her own, nodded her head, and hugged her little girl.

I had one more stop before heading home — the local bakery.    Once home, I carefully wrapped the goodies and placed them in the padded box.    I had been rushing to get the package to the post office before closing.  But even with all the trinkets and goodies, the box still seemed incomplete.

‘…cookies and you.’ 

I wish I could fit myself into that box.  And even if I did get to her, what then?  Why does she need me?   And then I knew how to seal up that box.  Looking at the clock, I decided the shipment would have to wait until tomorrow.  Remembering the challenge from a book I once read, Put Your Heart On Paper, I grabbed a blank sheet of paper and sat down at my kitchen table…

“My Dear Sweet Girl…… “

I sealed the letter with hugs and kisses and placed it in the box, and mailed it out the next morning.

letter-penJust a brown cardboard box filled with a few little things, nothing much really.

Just her Mama’s heart and a few chocolate cookies.