Wrestling Mania

My youngest daughter's boyfriend, Aaron, lives in a small rural community about an hour east of Denver, CO. He is a very sweet boy who tends to be as serious as Emily is spontaneous -- they compliment each other well. They can only get together every few weeks due to the distance. But this is nice -- it makes every time they see one another a special occasion. However, it also makes for some very long phone conversations...

Tonight Aaron had a wrestling match in a neighboring community which Emily really wanted to go to. I had told her that I would take her, but really? I was dreading it. After all day at work the last thing I wanted to do was drive 45 minutes to some school gym and watch a wrestling match. And today winter had shown its' cold and snowy face and I hate driving in snow.

But, I had made a promise to Emily. She is a sweet, low maintenance, and not very demanding girl who just wanted to show her support to her boyfriend. So, off we went. I had told her that we would leave the wrestling match right at 7pm, and no later. The town was so small that we actually drove through it before we realized what it was. The school was home to elementary, middle, and high school students. The lady who took our entrance fee and stamped a cougar paw print on my hand was smiley and very friendly.

As we walked into the gym I felt as though I had been transported back to a time when families did things together. The gym was full of moms, dads, siblings, grandparents, friends, and plain 'ol towns folk -- this was obviously the place to be on this particular evening. Emily and I found Aaron's mom, brother, and sister and sat with them. And we were definitely the "townies" in the gym. Which is kinda funny since we live in a suburb, not downtown Denver, but still...

I heard snippets of conversations about football, trucks, garbage, the weather, and grain. Three communities were represented and everyone seemed to know each others "business" and "going ons." Emily had baked Aaron cookies and I would have loved to have taken their picture -- sitting on the gym floor, backs against the padded wall, laughing and eating cookies together. I think I would have crossed the "mom" line if I had taken that picture, but I did get a very sincere "thank you" from Aaron for bringing Emily out to his match.

On the way home I let my mind wander...what would it be like to live in such a small, close-knit community? I have to admit, something about farm life tugs at my heart. I remember digging up carrots, jumping in hay stacks, and playing with dogs on my uncles farm when I was very young and wanting to be a farmers wife when I grew up. Where did those dreams go? But more importantly, what are my dreams now? I'm not sure if I really have any -- too busy getting by day to day. Maybe it's time to allow myself take a few moments every now and then to think about what it is that I really want...what do I want to be when I grow up?

All Grown Up

My daughter Emily had all four of her wisdom teeth removed this morning. Today has been discussed, analyzed from all angles, and worried over for about 5 weeks. Let me tell you -- Emily's history with pain has been, well, painful.

She is only 13 months younger than her older sister Kelly, who when Em was born, became a "little mother." Emily didn't ever have to lift a finger because Kelly was there to get it for her. Emily decided what to eat, what to wear, what to play with, etc., based on whatever it was that Kelly was doing. She was the shyest of my children, spoke last, walked last...was literally, my "hip baby." Her tiny little childhood scratches, splinters, cuts and bruises were larger-than-life and hurt more than any other child's in the whole world. Many a time did I pry her from underneath the examination table at the pediatricians office -- shots were invented to torture Emily. As she grew older, my patience with her fear of needles lessened; my "motherly love" had a limit -- "Emily, please just deal with it and grow up"!

My "wish" came true today. Emily was up at 6am, dressed and ready to go. At 7am she was whisked into the back room at the ortho before I had a chance to say "good-bye," or "I love you, honey." Exactly an hour and a half later they wheeled her out. Admittedly, she was a bit loopy and her speech was somewhat garbled, but insisted she wasn't in any pain.

We got home, she ate some yogurt, took her meds, and took a nap (wait, I need to add this: on the way home, she thanked me for taking care of her and spending money to get her mouth fixed...wow). When she woke up she ate mac 'n cheese, applesauce, and more yogurt. I asked about the procedure -- I was curious as to her reaction to the needle and shot she received. She said she saw the needle, and the tears started to flow, but both the doctor and nurse were so sweet and nice to her, she knew she didn't have to be scared and the next thing she remembered was falling asleep. As soon as she finished telling me that, she left to go to McDonald's with her brother and sister and "gummed" a double cheeseburger. Currently, she is next door at her bff's house, just hanging out.

So, why am I left with this very empty feeling? As much as I was dreading her recovery, with what I thought was going to be whining, crying, etc., I was also looking forward to "baby-ing" her. She is, after all, my last baby. But that didn't happen. In fact, I'm the one left a bit weepy...today my baby girl "grew up" into a young lady right before my eyes. And I've been saying for a few years now how I just can't wait until the kids leave and I will finally have the house to myself? Lies, all lies...