“With Liberty and Justice for All”

Today my firstborn child turns 26. She is the age I was when I delivered her. You can’t wish her a happy birthday on Facebook because she isn’t there. She gave up Facebook as an undergrad when she realized there are far too many ways for things on Facebook to come back to haunt than she could ever hope to control. From the time she learned to walk and talk, she has been taking charge of things and enforcing rules. (See photo of said child policing the McDonald’s playground.)

Sometime around middle school she started thinking about a career in federal law enforcement. By high school she wanted to be a sniper for the Secret Service hanging out on the rooftop of the White House. (Thank goodness she didn’t pursue that path. That group is a mess right now.) She worked as a lifeguard at our neighborhood pool. We live in a fairly international neighborhood outside Washington DC so she learned to correct people in at least five different languages. I’m sure she broke some rules in her youth, but I can assure you that her own fear of those infractions showing up on a security clearance was a far more effective deterrent than any punishment her parents could have imposed.
She is the most fiercely loyal person I have ever met, especially to her family. I actually felt a little sorry for the silly friends who ever tried to hurt one of her sisters or come between them. For those who are blessed to be her family or friend, you will never know someone who has your back like this girl.

She looks at things 100% in black and white. There are no shades of gray. That may not be a very popular quality in our society today, but I think living by firm principles is a quality to be admired. She earned a Master’s degree in History and after a year and half of searching and waiting, she is now working in her chosen field. She works for the Department of Justice. Entirely appropriate I think.

Love Me Tender

Today marks another milestone in our family journey. Reagan turns 12 today.  She shares the birthday with Elvis, which is a fact I swore I would never tell her and which the sisters delighted to do so.  Reagan thinks that’s cool.

Reagan,  I’m sure that’s just one of many things I wish you didn’t know, but here are some other things that I want you to know.

We thought we had the perfect size family with our four little girls.  But then, led by Emily, the sisters started campaigning. Before you were born, people dismissed the sisters’ enthusiasm and said it would wear off. “All girls love babies, but when they aren’t babies anymore, they won’t think they’re so wonderful.”  Guess what? Those people were wrong.  I imagine that some time in these next few years you might chafe a little bit at the way they look after you.  But I hope you will always know that you were desired, and prayed for, and loved beyond description.

It’s a little scary sometimes when I see how much you are like your oldest sister.  I remember all too well when she was this age.  I’m hoping that I will do a better job in some of those moments when I messed up with her. But more than that, I pray that you love your Savior with the same passion that she does.

Love me tender,

love me sweet,

never let me go,

you have made my life complete,

And I love you so.

Happy 12th birthday, Reagan Madeleine!

Fifty? Really?

I know the calendar clearly says that I’m 50 years old today.  I’m just having a really hard time wrapping my brain around that fact.  No, I’m not in denial or deep depression.  I just don’t feel 50 years old.  Now, I’m not exactly sure how it’s supposed to feel, but I envisioned tired, chronic random body aches, perhaps  a little grumpy, not very fun and definitely not silly. I feel like I should somehow be more serious about life and not still wondering what I’m going to be when I grow up.

 

I’ve been watching lots of friends hit this milestone this year.  They haven’t fit those expectations either.  In my mind’s eye, we’re still young college grads, starting out our lives as grown ups.  The idea that we have children who are college graduates, married, or gasp! parents, still amazes me.  The reality is I’ve watched three friends bury spouses in the past 18 months. That sure helps one keep perspective.

 

As if half a century wasn’t momentous enough, God has given me quite a week.  We had four days between when the four girls left at home returned from two weeks at camp and when we had to leave for the first college drop off.  On Wednesday we drove to Pittsburgh and spent the night with a friend and then moved Abby, the original baby of the family, into her dorm at Grove City College on Thursday.  We got home Thursday night, and Friday morning Isa took her first carload of stuff to the University of Virginia.  Friday afternoon we put Emily on a plane back to Cincinnati and her husband.  Saturday, Isa left for good and for the first time in 20 years we had only two children in the house!

True confessions, I had a moment on Friday night when I came close to a meltdown. Fortunately, my dear friend was only a text away and she had just delivered her firstborn girl to college so she knew exactly how to pray for me.

For the most part, I don’t feel dramatically different from how I felt at 30, except I don’t have to feed or dress any of the children now. I have an amazing life.  I have a husband who still spoils me, and six fabulous daughters. I’m getting to see the fruit of our labors of parenting, and I have a cool car and no more minivan.  And if you really want to know how I cope with being 50, Pudge has an explanation.

Apparently, Pudge had a discussion with a friend at camp about the fact that I’m older than Rod.  Her friend asked my age.  Pudge told her that I was turning 50, but that I really look 45 because I color my hair.  She said that my hair is this color (boring brown) because of hormones and that’s why I get candy apple red or purple highlights!  I plan to keep having fun without anyone whispering, “mid-life crisis.”  So there were no tears here about this milestone birthday.  And I’m working on what to do next to keep Rod guessing!

 

 

It is not my birthday today

I had to check this morning to see if I was still married.  Well, Facebook married.  I was surprised to see that I am, but that could change shortly.  No, we’re not in trouble.  We’re not headed to counseling.  It’s just that today is my precious husband’s birthday, and he really, really doesn’t like attention so I figured he would deactivate his account temporarily.  He has a history of such things.

I LOVE birthdays.  But not just mine.  I love celebrating other people’s birthdays too.  I want to celebrate everyone else’s birthday the same way I like to celebrate mine—loud, proud, and extended.  So 27 plus years ago, God sent a young man into my life who basically considers birthdays to be just a regular biological occurrence.  He doesn’t need all the hoopla and actually really doesn’t enjoy it.  WHAT??!!!! How can anyone not enjoy a day that is all about you?  The phone ringing, the emails chirping, and screen after screen of Happy Birthdays from Facebook friends all over the world?

My husband.  That’s who.  It has taken me a long time to “get it.”  I really thought that once he had a really fun birthday celebration, that he would enjoy them like I do.  One year, I invited a bunch of friends over to celebrate one of those milestone birthdays.  Rod threw up all day.  I told the friends not to come over.  Another year, he had an accident in the garage that resulted in the evening spent in the Emergency Room getting his hand stitched back together. However, because all his girls (including me) were so excited about his birthday dessert, he carefully hid his injured hand under the table until all the candles were blown out and the dessert was eaten.  I’ve “surprised” him with cake at his office, banners, balloons, and everything else that I can think of. But 27 years later, I have to confess that he probably just tolerates these things.  He really doesn’t love them like I do.

So today, I’m not “surprising” him.  I didn’t paint messages on his car window for the rest of the DC commuters to read.  I didn’t even tell anyone at his office it’s his birthday.  Oh don’t worry.  I still have plans to celebrate.  But  it will be the kind that he really likes.

Birthday Hurricane

Today is my 49th birthday.  I thought I should put that out there first thing in case you were wondering.  In my heart I only feel 29.  I wanted to do something fun to mark the occasion and I decided that additional piercings or tattooing anything were out.  (Actually, I would have considered the piercings, but my older daughters nixed the idea.  I meant my ears of course!)   Instead I visited the hair salon and added a few red highlights to my hair.  My only request was that the color not be mistaken for anything that would naturally occur.  So now I have “Cincinnati Red” streaks in my hair.  I knew I had successfully reached my goal when Meg looked at me and said “Yikes, that’s bright!”

It’s been quite a week here.  Tuesday we experienced a 5.8 magnitude earthquake.  I found out later that I was standing in one of the safest places possible at the time–in a doorway–of the Frostie Moose, my favorite ice cream shop! Pudge and Reagan were with me and I wondered how they would react.  Reagan’s eyes got very big, and she asked, “was that an earthquake?”.  Pudge very matter of factly said, “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to go through an earthquake.  Now I know.”  The confusion about what was happening, the jammed cell phones, and the gridlock trying to get out of the city reminded many of us of a day ten years ago.  Thankfully, we had no damage.

Today, Hurricane Irene has arrived.  It has been raining since 10am and the rain is heavy but the winds are not too bad yet.  We’re expecting the worst of the winds and rain late tonight. As of this writing at 6pm, we still have power. Reagan is apparently ready for a loss of electricity.  Two nights ago she showed up in our bedroom in the middle of the night wearing the headlamp she took to camp.  She wanted to tell us that she had a bad dream.  We’re not sure why, after 10 years, she was suddenly unable to navigate the path from her room to ours in the dark.  Rod has affectionately begun referring to her as “the miner”.     I was at the store earlier today, and judging by the empty shelves, I have concluded that the population of Woodbridge, VA will be dining on bread, potato chips, and milk.  We are well supplied here with much better fare–pizza, chips, salsa, beer, Creole Chicken for my birthday dinner and plenty of ice cream.  One of my favorite stories about hurricane preparations demonstrates the dysfunctional nature of the local government in the city of Washington D.C.  The city was giving out free sandbags to its residents–limit 5 per household.  Are they kidding?  Our turtle sandbox can hold 3!

So we’re here at home making birthday memories together.  I wish Em and Kyle were here too, but I’m looking forward to another round of celebrating with them next week in Cincinnati. I think I’d like to do it without any sort of natural disaster however.