I grabbed my camera and headed out to take a picture of "Seven". This is how I found her:
Notice the half hearted grin? That's what I get now when I take her picture. I shouldn't complain, at least she's looking at the camera, but that expression of hers flattens, and I can hear her telepathy through her body language. "Take the picture, already.....Mom."
Seven has brought on a bit more of the moodiness, and sass. It has also brought me a reader, and a problem solver.
Grace is desperate for a brother or sister, and begs for this on a daily basis. For Christmas, she received a lemonade stand that she has wild plans for selling cupcakes from so she can save up the money and buy us a baby. We had a casual discussion at the dinner table about what it means to adopt a child a couple weeks ago, and I saw the light bulb fly on when I told her how not only does it take a very special family to adopt, it also costs money. So, she is determined to buy us a baby, she is. So if you see her little stand this summer on the side of the road, feel free to stop and buy a cupcake from her. : )
For now, her dollies have to be the babies of the house, as I secretly ache for another child. As her age is getting up there, so is mine. I originally gave myself to the age of thirty-five to close that door. That age has come and gone, and I swear, that foot of mine slides in and stops that door every time I try to shut it. I know I should be so very grateful for the healthy child I have, and with every part of my being I am, but I never envisioned my life growing older with only one living child. Then again, I had never envisioned spending the latter part of my twenties in a depression so dark, it would take away the early part of my thirties to climb out of it. Wasted years. All those prime baby making years lost to darkness.
Thinking of future holidays is what scares me the most. In my head I see Jeremy and I, grey hair, huddled over a bland meal on Christmas Eve in a quiet, tidy house, watching reruns of who-knows-what. Grace calls to wish us a Merry Christmas Eve from her In-Laws, because it's their turn to have them this year. We go to bed by nine as we listen to the rain and talk about what we are going to fix that has the least amount of dishes for Christmas breakfast in the morning because neither of us likes to do dishes. We settle on toast and poached eggs. One pan, two plates. We pop out our dentures, which leaves us in silence because we can't understand what the other is saying without them in, and we fall asleep. What I really want, is loud holidays full of grandchildren and more grandchildren, arguing and hugs, traditions and laughter, holiday spreads that will feed an army, yelling at the kiddos not to chase each other in socks on the hardwood floors, setting up air beds for people to sleep on, kissing boo-boos, and having a house full of people I love, all under one roof. Quiet, tidy house scares me.
It is hard for me not to look into the future. I am a planner, and that is my problem. I think I have control of it, and I really, really don't. There is definitely something to living in the moment, and I plan to focus more on that. I just said," I plan"...Sheesh!
Today, it was watching Grace be Seven. Tomorrow I'm going to take the plunge and not plan out dinner. Dinner on the fly.
Be in the moment.
Risk taker, I tell 'ya!
Watch out world! ; )