A 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.
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.
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.
Write 31 Days
