I kept thinking, good grief time passes slowly. I can't wait to just get done with high school. I can't wait to have my very own life. Where I can just do whatever I want, whenever I want. When I can make my kids do whatever I want them to. The time when I can make all the decisions.
That time never came. Funny how you see things one way, but the reality doesn't look the same.
I graduated high school, tried out the college thing, that didn't work, so I got married. Time sped up a little bit. Then we had the first little Milkmaid. And holy cheese balls....I'll be danged if the world didn't find another gear. Sometimes I think if we didn't hold on, the speed of the Earth moving around the sun would throw us off.
Now, I've passed that ripe old age of 30. And I feel like there just aren't 24 hours in a day anymore.
Milkmaid #1 has hit 10. Double digits. Oh for the love...how did that happen?!? A couple of nights ago she stood up in front of our county Quorum Court and gave a speech that she wrote herself. There was standing room only. Our county extension service didn't get some funding that we needed from the state and we were asking, along with many other 4-H kids and parents that the county help fund the office. And my girl wrote a speech Tuesday morning and stood up and talked about why the extension office is important and how 4-H makes her a better person.
Have you ever been so proud that you want to shout from the rooftops and all that's inside you wants to explode? There just aren't words. I know many adults that couldn't bring themselves to stand up and show the responsibility and passion that she did. I hope that when I grow up I can be as amazing as she is.
Milkmaid #2 will be 4 in a month. That is 4 going on 14 of course. She doesn't like people. She is the daughter of the Milkman for sure. If I'd let him, he'd never leave the farm. He isn't a fan of crowds or noise, or anything involving more than about 5 people at a time. When there is a function where there will be crowds the Milkman tries his best to avoid said function. Along with Milkmaid #2.
This is how these conversations go:
Momma: "We have a meeting/party/game/etc Tuesday night."
Milkman: "I've got stuff to do. I can't go."
Momma: "You have to go. You are the dad/president/friend."
Milkman: "I'll see what I can do. But I"m not promising anything."
And if it is really important....the Milkman knows he has to put on his big boy pants and go.
If the same function involves the Milkmaids going this is the conversation:
Momma: "Tuesday night we have a meeting/party/game/etc."
Milkmaid #1: "Awesome! Can I go? Who's gonna be there?"
Milkmaid #2: "Are there going to be people there?"
Momma: "Yes there will be people there. Probably a lot of people. You are going to have to just suck it up and go. It is what it is."
Milkmaid #1: "What should I wear?"
Milkmaid #2: "There are going to be people there. And I don't like people. Here's the deal, I'm calling Grandma/Memaw/Nana."
Now...Momma knows that you pick your battles. For those of you without kids reading this thinking, no. nope. uh-uh. You will learn that children come from the womb with their own personality. And as much as you think you will make your children do whatever it is that you want them to do as long as they live under your roof....you are mistaken. You learn quickly that you pick your battles. When you child wants to wear the red cape to Wal-Mart and you are in a hurry....you better just tie that cape on tight because that is not a battle worth the fight. I'm not saying you let them win the war. You are still the parent...and you teach them things, but there are battles just not meant to be fought.
So...over the last week or so Milkmaid #2 has spent a lot of time between Memaw's and Grandma's houses. We had a football game to attend and she said, "Nope. I don't wanna go. Games are boring and there will be people there." So she called Memaw. There was a birthday party, Milkmaid #1's double header, and then the Quorum Court meeting. Milkmaid #2 won on every occasion except the Quorum Court meeting. Lines of communication got crossed and Grandma was busy.
This was a bad deal.
The meeting was standing room only. A nice lady sitting behind us had crayons and a coloring book in her purse. She loaned them to Milkmaid #2. They were entertaining until it was about time to start the meeting. We were second on the agenda and the first guy lasted a little longer than #2's patience.
It got time for #1 to give her speech and, of course, the need for a potty break began. I put Milkmaid #2 off as long as humanly possible. As soon as my sweet oldest Milkmaid finished her speech we were off to the potty.
Does anyone else's 3 year old need to go to the bathroom just for the sake of seeing what a new bathroom looks like? This time she really did need to go, but if we are somewhere new the bathroom seems to be a big deal.
When we got back the discussion was going on and on and on. Remember how that time passes quickly when you are a grown up? That night the Earth was taking a break because it seemed like we were there forever.
About the time it got quiet Milkmand #2, in all her tiny glory, let one rip. A loud one.
Three rows of people tried to avoid looking. The Milkman turned awfully red and started one of those laughs that you can't stop....you can't breathe....and you're trying not to make any noise so your stomach muscles tighten up and you just know the workout is better than a thousand sit-ups. Milkmaid #1 missed all the fun because she had taken the potty break. And I couldn't find a hole close enough to hide in. At that point the Earth stopped. It quit turning for a split second that lasted a really long time.
There was a 4-H boy sitting in front of me. About 16 or so. That poor kid was fighting back the urge to laugh so hard. Farts are funny when you are a 16 year old boy. Especially when it sounded like an old man and came from a 3 year old girl. Not just any 3 year old girl, but an extremely proud one. She didn't turn red. Just covered her cute little mouth to hide a grin the size of Texas.
It was at that moment I realized that my life was moving so quickly that I desperately needed those moments to stop time.
Life used to pass so slowly that I felt like the years would never end. Now I am holding on to keep from spinning away and I have an amazing 10 year old that stops time with her courage and a 3 year old that stops time with...well...her gas. But it's those times that make my life what it is.
Last night #2 got into trouble. She wouldn't eat her supper and was insisting that she have ice cream instead. This, my friends, is one of those battles that Momma wins. The little Milkmaid pushed her table forward, throwing everything off of it including her supper, and screamed. This is not how we do things at Momma's house. Nope, not happening. After a nice little discussion...or something like that....she went to bed. It was 6:30. She didn't eat supper. I had every intention of letting her up, but ice cream was just a dream for that girl. When I told her she could get up she asked for the sweet stuff, but I won the battle. She covered her head with a pillow and slept for 12 hours. She didn't get up to pee, beg, or cry. That kid slept until I woke her up at 6:45am. And the first words out of her mouth were, "Now can I have my ice cream?"
Stubborn one, that girl. She didn't get ice cream for breakfast, but if she can behave herself she can have some tonight.
I gotta say...I'm proud of my girls. They are strong and stubborn and sweet. They make my world go 'round. And sometimes they make my world stop. But I wouldn't trade any of the memories that we make along the way.
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