That Mom

I was that mom. The mom who went anxiously to Open House the year Oldest Child started kindergarten. And a few years later, when YC followed in her footsteps. I was the mom who waited for the bus each afternoon to see what she learned during the day away from me. I was the mom who had homemade Rice Crispy Treats ready after school. Who was eager to sit down with homework because it was "fun". Who went to every practice of every sport the precious cherubs ever played...and cheered. And even COACHED one season. I was the mom who made sure we ate dinner at the dinner table every night because I would warp my children if we didn't. Who made sure that the meals were well-rounded and healthy because I didn't want them growing up obese. And the park. Oh, my goodness, the park. We had to be there at every opportunity. We walked, we fed the ducks, we rode bikes,we swang. We played. A lot.


And now, I'm not. I'm the mom who hates homework with a passion. I'm the mom who wants homework done as soon as possible, so we can get on with our evenings. I'm the mom who maybe gets one homecooked meal prepared a week. I'm the mom who feeds her children "whatever" for dinner. Just eat so you don't go to bed hungry. I'm the mom who worries about OC getting her learner's permit in March (this March!). She doesn't even know how to put gas in the car - much less pay for it. She doesn't know directions to our house...how will she ever get home? I'm the mom who worried if she did enough during the early years. Is she fundamentally grounded? Does she pick good friends? Does she know that noone will ever love her more that God and me? Did I lay the groundwork I was supposed to lay? Did I do what I was supposed to do during those early, formative years? Because if the years we are going through now are "formative", God help us all!

And Youngest Child, oh, my goodness. Middle School is rocking our world. We have spent the past eleven years getting ready for this. She is so ill prepared. What could I have done differently? How could I have helped more? What did I need to do and didn't? What did I do that I shouldn't have?

I think we all go through this life trying to do better than our parents did. I think I should be reimbursed, because the hospital forgot to give me the owner's manual when I brought them home. We do the best we can, and let God do the rest. We learned that with The Dude. He moved to Tennessee with his mother when he was five. The middle of Tennessee. A long way from Atlanta in Tennessee. So we did the best we could. And he turned out fine. Great, actually. A fine young man I would proudly set up with your daughters. So I need to learn to let go and let God. I'm not raising a couple of ax murderers. The Dude turned out ok. The girls will, too.

Date Night

Last night DH and I went on a date. An honest-to-goodness-go-out-to-dinner-and-then-do-something-fun-before-going-home-and-crashing-in-bed date. We had a great time. Way back at the beginning of the summer, I was playing on my laptop looking at stuff (as I may or may not be known to do from time to time). And by a fluke, I decided to see when/if Charlie Daniels was coming to the Atlanta area. And sure enough, he was coming to town on August 15. I asked DH if I bought tickets if he would take me. Back when I bought the tickets, August 15th seemed like a long way off. He was at a new venue that we hadn't been to before and Shooter Jennings and The Outlaws were there with him. Sounded like fun. So I clicked on "best seats" when I bought the tickets, printed them, and put them in the drawer until August 14th.

Yesterday I ended up staying at school longer than anticipated. This year, my goal was to leave everyday by 4-4:15. Not happenin, my friend; not happenin! The concert started at 8:00 and it was on the other side of town. If you know anything about Atlanta traffic, especially on Friday evening, it can take anywhere from 45 minutes to 3 hours and 45 minutes to get to the other side of town. So by the time I got home, I had just enough time to put on my sassy outfit, run a brush through my hair, and walk out the door. Because I am such a planner, and I was hungry, we decided to eat dinner on this side of town because if we waited, there would be long waiting lines at every restaurant we wanted to eat at. So we went to one of our favorite Mexican restaurants.

After feasting on fajitas, we were off to face the traffic to get to the concert. Keep in mind that DH drives downtown in traffic every day. I, on the other hand, drive seven minutes to school and consider it a traffic jam if there are two cars stopped at the 4-way stop. You would see me on the nightly news under "road rage" if I had to drive in actual traffic. So I left the driving to DH. We get there in plenty of time to park (in the pre-arranged, FREE parking lot). The amphitheater was awesome. Clean. Nice workers. Relatively calm crowd.

I knew our seats were in the pit area, row EEE. We start walking. And we keep walking towards the front. And we keep walking. And finally stop. Fifth row, center stage we finally stop walking. We were so close, I could almost see the colors of their eyes! DH couldn't believe I got such awesome seats just by "playing" on the computer. I told him to just sit back and enjoy.

Shooter Jennings was terrific. Didn't put the puzzle pieces together until today that his is Waylon Jennings' son. Duh! The Outlaws were awesome. They knew how to put on a show. Once I got over the fact that one of their guitarists looks exactly like my ex-brother-in-law, only with hair down to his waist, I was able to really enjoy their performance. Finally about two hours after the start of the concert, Charlie came out. He's still got it, internets. He's still got it!

I think what I liked best about his performance was he is turning towards the religious side. And patriotic. Oh, my goodness, the man is patriotic. He played The Star Spangled Banner on his fiddle and had the entire arena on their feet with our hats off and our hands over our hearts. A-M-A-Z-I-N-G.

Why, you ask, am I not posting pictures of my fifth row, center stage, so-close-you-can-almost-see-the-whites-of-their-eyes concert? Oldest child took my camera out of my purse without telling me. Thanks, OC!