I am surprised at how much easier it’s been than I expected. Ironically, when she comes home to visit I am most aware of how much I miss her and how I feel her absence. (that said, we still have two other kids at home to keep us in happy chaos!)
Great read today - your memories quickly inspired some recollections of my with my kids (they're mid 40s now) and a growing 'mental album' of moments with my grandchildren that will never leave me. But we change. I've stopped telling the story of Carla, my eldest who pooped 'under the warmer' less than a minute after her cord was cut. She didn't see it as funny - and I still think it's a marvelous testimony: upon arrival on earth, taking a breath, she took a shit! ... I think it would be a great bumper sticker. But we leave our kids with unforgettable moments too - and I'm sure your kids will cherish those memories and likely surprise you with 'what sticks'. Mine is referred to as 'the ketchup incident'. It was a birthday bbq dinner - burgers - for the son of a woman I was living with at the time. S#2, her son and daughter and some of their friends and, my parents, S#2's brother, and my kids - 11 & 13 at the time. Krista, the younger one, was being a first rate ass-hat and wouldn't settle down and behave or respond to my stern looks or urgings to hush! As he continued without hesitation, I grabbed the ketchup container (the squeezy plastic kind) which is 'new' and fully charged. After a few moments everyone settled back into their conversations without realizing I hadn't risen to leave the table, clear my throat or adjust the fit of my underwear. I let her have it - and I zigged and zagged until she had ketchup on her face, her shirt, her plate, in her hair and everywhere in her splash zone. And, as it turned out, all over the dining room wall, all over S#2's prized new draperies and on the carpet. I've never regretted teaching my daughter correct table manners. I'd do it again in a heartbeat. It comes up at 'large family dinners' and we all have a good laugh. Sometimes, on gloomy days in life, we need the uplift of a 'first turd' or a ketchup incident flashback to make life better! Cheers, Love your columns, Mark
I can’t image our family without a writer, a chronicler of the smallest moments-and the biggest ones, a mind that seems to multi task while taking it all in. That’s what hasn’t changed with you, my love. Thank you.
I'm almost an empty nester and you're right, maybe I must make a list of how things are the same, focusing less on what had changed. And yes, the children are seemingly out of my hands like a blink of an eye.
I'm so glad to hear that. Enjoy these times. I love the teen years (though I may be lucky that way) -- and you have so many memories to make before she hits 18. But truly: It doesn't end there. xo
I love how Liz Gumbinner captures the beautiful moments of familiarity with her daughter. It's heartwarming to see the constants in our loved ones. Excellent work, Liz! 🌟💖
I've got a kid headed to college in the Fall. This helps me look for the glimmers in growth along the way. 🩵
I am surprised at how much easier it’s been than I expected. Ironically, when she comes home to visit I am most aware of how much I miss her and how I feel her absence. (that said, we still have two other kids at home to keep us in happy chaos!)
Great read today - your memories quickly inspired some recollections of my with my kids (they're mid 40s now) and a growing 'mental album' of moments with my grandchildren that will never leave me. But we change. I've stopped telling the story of Carla, my eldest who pooped 'under the warmer' less than a minute after her cord was cut. She didn't see it as funny - and I still think it's a marvelous testimony: upon arrival on earth, taking a breath, she took a shit! ... I think it would be a great bumper sticker. But we leave our kids with unforgettable moments too - and I'm sure your kids will cherish those memories and likely surprise you with 'what sticks'. Mine is referred to as 'the ketchup incident'. It was a birthday bbq dinner - burgers - for the son of a woman I was living with at the time. S#2, her son and daughter and some of their friends and, my parents, S#2's brother, and my kids - 11 & 13 at the time. Krista, the younger one, was being a first rate ass-hat and wouldn't settle down and behave or respond to my stern looks or urgings to hush! As he continued without hesitation, I grabbed the ketchup container (the squeezy plastic kind) which is 'new' and fully charged. After a few moments everyone settled back into their conversations without realizing I hadn't risen to leave the table, clear my throat or adjust the fit of my underwear. I let her have it - and I zigged and zagged until she had ketchup on her face, her shirt, her plate, in her hair and everywhere in her splash zone. And, as it turned out, all over the dining room wall, all over S#2's prized new draperies and on the carpet. I've never regretted teaching my daughter correct table manners. I'd do it again in a heartbeat. It comes up at 'large family dinners' and we all have a good laugh. Sometimes, on gloomy days in life, we need the uplift of a 'first turd' or a ketchup incident flashback to make life better! Cheers, Love your columns, Mark
Now that is a story! 😳
awww I love this.
Thank you Jaime!
I can’t image our family without a writer, a chronicler of the smallest moments-and the biggest ones, a mind that seems to multi task while taking it all in. That’s what hasn’t changed with you, my love. Thank you.
And I can't imagine our family without the support it takes to be a chronicler of moments. Thank you ❤️
I'm almost an empty nester and you're right, maybe I must make a list of how things are the same, focusing less on what had changed. And yes, the children are seemingly out of my hands like a blink of an eye.
Thanks for the shout out!
As a mother of a 13-year-old girl who deeply dreads her college years, this was entirely comforting.
I'm so glad to hear that. Enjoy these times. I love the teen years (though I may be lucky that way) -- and you have so many memories to make before she hits 18. But truly: It doesn't end there. xo
I love how Liz Gumbinner captures the beautiful moments of familiarity with her daughter. It's heartwarming to see the constants in our loved ones. Excellent work, Liz! 🌟💖
Thank you!