I was recently talking to a friend at work about my Step Mom's recent diagnosis with cancer. She listened to me ramble on about my concern over wishing they were closer, wishing I could hear what the doctors were actually telling them, wishing I could bring meals over...Basically there's a lot of wishing going on right now. She looked at me and finally just said, "Here it is. You can do what you can do, but you have your family to think of as well. Your Dad picked his life and he will deal with it." Truthfully the words felt a little like a surprise kick to the stomach. I know in my heart that's true, but that's just not how I was raised. Plainly...that's not the Bolger way.
When I first arrived down in Santa Barbara after my Dad had called me about my Step Mom, I was overwhelmed by all the concerned phone calls coming from his brothers. The two I talked to directly told me that they were ready to drop everything and come down whenever they were needed. One even made a point of calling and checking in every day. Now that to me is family. That's people that get it. I made a comment to Rick about how wonderful that felt. Here we were all feeling like the walls were caving in, but the Bolger Boys were ready to show up with Pa's ole tool box and try to fix them.
Even thinking about recently when my Grandmother passed away and how quickly everyone was on the phone calling back and forth. There was no squabbling over finances. No battling for her last worldly possession. They all just wanted to mourn. To remember. Just to be together and be a family.
My sweet beautiful young cousin got married this last weekend and as I watched this almost two table full of Bolger's I could help but think this is one lucky boy. Heck he is marrying into one hell of a loving family. My uncle got up and talked about family and how he was feeling it so strong. He equated it to a village and how lucky they were to have the support of the village. The round of applause on that one was deafening. It was hard not to feel the love in the air from the couple, but from the support in the room.
It's an interesting thing to be a part of and fascinating to think about. What makes this family so strong? They get together and laugh, dance, surf, you name it. What was the root that made this tree so strong? I just want to make sure my family is graphed on from that. I want that same strength. I want to know my girls will have that same pull to gather and spend time together. I know for sure this summer has been a trying one and my little village has been the only thing holding my crumbly cookie pieces together.
I hope my girls can remember when they feel like the world is against them and nothing is going right that all they need to do is turn around; the village is behind them. It may appear small at first glance, but they need only look hard to see that it stretch far. And look there's one holding a beer and doing a little leap.
God love this family.
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
Thursday, July 5, 2012
The Pink Hat
Well in the chaos that is my life right now, I inadvertently threw into the wash what has been lovingly been referred to as 'the pink hat'. I got this hat while on a camping trip to Big Sur with a dear friend and it brings up such good memories of freezing at the ocean's edge, campfire mornings, and gazing up at the redwood canopy that was our living room ceiling. So when I pulled out this memory maker, all warm, perfectly pink, and now ten sizes too small I was not all too pleased. However, it did get me thinking about all the hats I wear in a given day. How some fit perfectly, some maybe I wish I didn't have to wear and others that seemed to be just right are now the ones providing endless amounts of worry and stress.
Each morning I wake up I style my hair and on goes my Mom hat. It's the one with the large brim. It's sturdy in case I get pulled into the trenches. There is as much food throwing as there is excuse tossing, so this hat is easy to clean. Tear, rips, holes are nothing for this hat. It can handle anything. Once I received this hat, I put it one with pride and exuberance and there is no way I would let anyone borrow it.
When I turn to the side and you see some frill, that's the wife hat. Still trying to be cute, but under the frill is some tough canvas. It's wanting to work, collaborate if you will. This hat understand if sometimes it slips to the back, but its confident its on and it laughs because it knows that Mom hat wouldn't work so well without it.
Could there possibly be any more room on this head you ask? Heck yeah. The daughter hat sits at the back. Its a heavy hat, especially when you're an only child. When no other brother or sister shares your hat and you must carry it yourself, the weight sometimes becomes unfathomable. But it's a hat you wear every day and you remind yourself how important it is. You realize that there will be a time that you will get to retire this hat. That thought makes you wish you could grab strings and tie your daughter hat on just that much tighter. For though it may feel like the heaviest of hats, when it's not yours to wear anymore the void and emptiness on your head is not easily forgotten.
The rest of my head is filled with friend hats. Some are small and some are large. Some take more effort to get on. Some fit perfectly. You find that those that take little effort are the ones that you reach for first. The ones requiring hassle and maintenance soon become your occasional hat. The hat you wear once a year and pull out for a party.
So as I sized up my mini pink hat and thought about all my life hats, I stopped and realized that although I would like to run from some right now and curl up inside others that's not how it works. They are all good hats, ones that I love. Sure some are easier to slip on than others. Yes I wish they all fit like my wife and mom hats, but some will again and others I will resign myself to putting on the shelf. These hats make up who I am. They define me. Whether I cock them to the side and wear them with style, well that's up to me. And you better believe I'm going to do my best.
Each morning I wake up I style my hair and on goes my Mom hat. It's the one with the large brim. It's sturdy in case I get pulled into the trenches. There is as much food throwing as there is excuse tossing, so this hat is easy to clean. Tear, rips, holes are nothing for this hat. It can handle anything. Once I received this hat, I put it one with pride and exuberance and there is no way I would let anyone borrow it.
When I turn to the side and you see some frill, that's the wife hat. Still trying to be cute, but under the frill is some tough canvas. It's wanting to work, collaborate if you will. This hat understand if sometimes it slips to the back, but its confident its on and it laughs because it knows that Mom hat wouldn't work so well without it.
Could there possibly be any more room on this head you ask? Heck yeah. The daughter hat sits at the back. Its a heavy hat, especially when you're an only child. When no other brother or sister shares your hat and you must carry it yourself, the weight sometimes becomes unfathomable. But it's a hat you wear every day and you remind yourself how important it is. You realize that there will be a time that you will get to retire this hat. That thought makes you wish you could grab strings and tie your daughter hat on just that much tighter. For though it may feel like the heaviest of hats, when it's not yours to wear anymore the void and emptiness on your head is not easily forgotten.
The rest of my head is filled with friend hats. Some are small and some are large. Some take more effort to get on. Some fit perfectly. You find that those that take little effort are the ones that you reach for first. The ones requiring hassle and maintenance soon become your occasional hat. The hat you wear once a year and pull out for a party.
So as I sized up my mini pink hat and thought about all my life hats, I stopped and realized that although I would like to run from some right now and curl up inside others that's not how it works. They are all good hats, ones that I love. Sure some are easier to slip on than others. Yes I wish they all fit like my wife and mom hats, but some will again and others I will resign myself to putting on the shelf. These hats make up who I am. They define me. Whether I cock them to the side and wear them with style, well that's up to me. And you better believe I'm going to do my best.
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Thanks Goodness I Was the Only
My Mom graciously volunteered a few weeks ago to attend a memorial service with me for a dear friends Mom. I started to think about how truly lucky I am to have a Mom so willing to drop everything and move her plans to come here and there for me. She babysits, attends kids concerts, is my memorial service date, and that's just to name a few things. I started to wonder how I would ever be able to manage the same level of Motherly aid with three. I'm only one and I'm sure I keep my poor Mom busy enough. But I can only imagine when my girls are grown trying to juggle all they will want me to be a part of (well hopefully).
Just the other day the girls and I were driving in the car and each one was spilling the contents of their day through stories and songs and even that I was having a hard time giving my full attention to. I remember one time my Mom talking about her best friend who was the Mom of five children. She basically just said that she couldn't do everything for everyone. I mean I get that. There is only so much time in the day. And people do need to have their own lives. However, my Moms (heck my parents in general) involvement in my life has been enriching for not only me but my kids. I hate the idea of not being able to be as actively involved. I hate thinking a little thing like time will get in my way. And God forbid if I'm working that will really cramp my style. I think Rick and I both hope that someday we will be those Grandparents that take their grand-kids to the park and pick them up from school.
We've also been fortunate enough to always live in the same state. Will the adventure bug get a hold of any of my girls? I can't imagine they will all end up being home bodies like Rick and I were. We all love California, but there is a big world to see and they know it. That definitely throws in a whole level of complexity. I can still remember calling my Mom from San Jose State to come pick me up when I had the "flu" (yep we've all had that kind of flu before). She just had to drive up the street and then I was home in my nice bed getting the TLC only Mom can give. With three they are dependent on me but definitely not the same way an only child is. They need me, but they are already more independent than I ever was even in college. I love that about them.
Maybe what I'll discover through raising these wonderfully independent strong women is that they won't need us quite as much. They will want us to come visit but a phone call every couple weeks instead of every day will suffice. Their wings are small, but already strong. Sadly, I've raised them to be this way. I'll probably wish to be more involved than they will ever want me to be. Sure I will most likely have one that needs more attention than the rest. Or they will take turns at different times in their lives needing the comfort of ole Mom and Dad. However, the juggling that I am thinking I might have to do might not ever happen. Part of me will be sad. The other part will take joy knowing we raised some tough cookies.
Just the other day the girls and I were driving in the car and each one was spilling the contents of their day through stories and songs and even that I was having a hard time giving my full attention to. I remember one time my Mom talking about her best friend who was the Mom of five children. She basically just said that she couldn't do everything for everyone. I mean I get that. There is only so much time in the day. And people do need to have their own lives. However, my Moms (heck my parents in general) involvement in my life has been enriching for not only me but my kids. I hate the idea of not being able to be as actively involved. I hate thinking a little thing like time will get in my way. And God forbid if I'm working that will really cramp my style. I think Rick and I both hope that someday we will be those Grandparents that take their grand-kids to the park and pick them up from school.
We've also been fortunate enough to always live in the same state. Will the adventure bug get a hold of any of my girls? I can't imagine they will all end up being home bodies like Rick and I were. We all love California, but there is a big world to see and they know it. That definitely throws in a whole level of complexity. I can still remember calling my Mom from San Jose State to come pick me up when I had the "flu" (yep we've all had that kind of flu before). She just had to drive up the street and then I was home in my nice bed getting the TLC only Mom can give. With three they are dependent on me but definitely not the same way an only child is. They need me, but they are already more independent than I ever was even in college. I love that about them.
Maybe what I'll discover through raising these wonderfully independent strong women is that they won't need us quite as much. They will want us to come visit but a phone call every couple weeks instead of every day will suffice. Their wings are small, but already strong. Sadly, I've raised them to be this way. I'll probably wish to be more involved than they will ever want me to be. Sure I will most likely have one that needs more attention than the rest. Or they will take turns at different times in their lives needing the comfort of ole Mom and Dad. However, the juggling that I am thinking I might have to do might not ever happen. Part of me will be sad. The other part will take joy knowing we raised some tough cookies.
Thursday, June 14, 2012
What is family?
I talk a lot about Family, but what is family really?
Truthfully they are the people you seek out in a crowd. The ones that put a smile on your face and moments later bring you to tears because it's so good to see them. They single handily energize and drain you of your last ounce of juice. Are you born from these people or did you carry them for nine months? Not necessarily.
Through life's journeys we are somewhat like a big rolling rock that picks up innocent pebbles along the way. Some stick with us and others fall off. Those that stick, we keep them close and adopt them. We throw them into that ever growing somewhat vague bucket we call 'Family'. Sometimes those new adopters become closer than our family members and they feel like they were just there all along. Some distant relative we are just now getting acquainted with.
Are we always wonderful to our family? No. But they love us despite of ourselves. They choose to remember us as we once were, as we could be again. Family is the first in line to tell you how you are screwing up and how you could fix it. If you feel someones hand on your shoulder giving you a shake. Don't worry...it's someone that loves you.
With all that love comes the feeling that with these people you can just be yourself. Stop for a minute and think about what that means. For some it may mean singing a song with all the wrong words at the top of you lungs. For others sitting around sans makeup which may mean all those "beauty marks" are out on display. Who knows what is mean. But whatever it is, what is so great is that you are trusting in the fact that the people that you have classified as family, whom you have deemed worthy enough to drop your guard down with, will love you whether you know the words to the song. They will love you with make up or without. They just love you.
I have thought a lot about family this week. Tomorrow my Grandmother and my dear friends Mother will both have memorial services in their honor. They both so strongly believed in Family and the meaning of it. So for both wonderful ladies I dedicate this weeks blog writing to them. May they rest in peace.
Thursday, June 7, 2012
The Wild One Turns 3!
This week, it's a no brainer...the wild one is turning 3!! I truly cannot imagine where the time has gone. Rick said today that felt like Jess was already three because it's felt like she has always been with us. I agree with that statement, but I definitely feel as though she has completed us. We were, what I thought to be, a pretty darn good little family. However, this miracle dawning a tutu, a sassy attitude, and the cutest darn smile you ever saw came on the scene and totally changed my mind. Jessamine Mae Riebhoff is exactly what this family needed.
It's funny to glance around at pre-J pictures still hanging in the house. They look so empty to me. For such a tiny little thing she has filled up a big space. I used to always say about Gabby that she could run into a room and suck all the air out of it. In a good way. Well Jess does the same. She is a strong little presence. Maybe it's her sisters support and love. Maybe it's the fact that as the third she has been taken everyone, thrown into every situation, and just been told to go with the flow. This child is flexible, confident, and dare I say, independent. I know that sounds a little crazy saying that about a three year old. I'm just callin it like I see it.
We went to an art showcase at the school the other night and Jess ran after her sisters, walked around the camps like she owned the joint. She wasn't looking around for me. In fact, she didn't even want to hold my hand. A month earlier we had been at a birthday party and she asked if she could go inside and play dolls. No other kids were inside and she didn't ask me to go with her. She just knew what she wanted to do and went for it.
Ok, so she's confident and cute as all get out but probably what is most special about her is how she makes everyone feel. Just to watch my Mom's face light up when she gets one of Jess' hugs or to see her sister put down her book when she peeks over the top of it to say 'I love you sissy'. I won't even bring up how crazy my Dad is about this kid. She just warms your heart. This child is pure love. God knows we have smothered her with it, but she just has a good core.
People always want to know who she looks like and who she most acts like. On the outside she is my sweet husband all the way. She has his twinkly blue eyes that get excited when she tells stories or sees something she likes, just like him. It's fun to see the two of them together. Peel apart the onion though and you have a mish mash of goodness from all of us. Jess has the best part of both of my oldest girls. Even some of the stuff she does that gets her in trouble I still consider to be the best stuff since it will help her in life. No one ever said strong-willed children were easy to raise.
So tomorrow I will go in as always to look in and see my beautiful baby girl. She will have one bebe in her mouth and a slew of others thrown around. I will pick up that big 3 year old and thank my lucky stars that someone liked me enough to bless me with someone so wonderful. I will hope that she will continue to keep her spirit, maintain that confidence, know the love of her family is there with her, and enjoy the next year as much as she has this one. Happy Birthday my wonderful wild child.
It's funny to glance around at pre-J pictures still hanging in the house. They look so empty to me. For such a tiny little thing she has filled up a big space. I used to always say about Gabby that she could run into a room and suck all the air out of it. In a good way. Well Jess does the same. She is a strong little presence. Maybe it's her sisters support and love. Maybe it's the fact that as the third she has been taken everyone, thrown into every situation, and just been told to go with the flow. This child is flexible, confident, and dare I say, independent. I know that sounds a little crazy saying that about a three year old. I'm just callin it like I see it.
We went to an art showcase at the school the other night and Jess ran after her sisters, walked around the camps like she owned the joint. She wasn't looking around for me. In fact, she didn't even want to hold my hand. A month earlier we had been at a birthday party and she asked if she could go inside and play dolls. No other kids were inside and she didn't ask me to go with her. She just knew what she wanted to do and went for it.
Ok, so she's confident and cute as all get out but probably what is most special about her is how she makes everyone feel. Just to watch my Mom's face light up when she gets one of Jess' hugs or to see her sister put down her book when she peeks over the top of it to say 'I love you sissy'. I won't even bring up how crazy my Dad is about this kid. She just warms your heart. This child is pure love. God knows we have smothered her with it, but she just has a good core.
People always want to know who she looks like and who she most acts like. On the outside she is my sweet husband all the way. She has his twinkly blue eyes that get excited when she tells stories or sees something she likes, just like him. It's fun to see the two of them together. Peel apart the onion though and you have a mish mash of goodness from all of us. Jess has the best part of both of my oldest girls. Even some of the stuff she does that gets her in trouble I still consider to be the best stuff since it will help her in life. No one ever said strong-willed children were easy to raise.
So tomorrow I will go in as always to look in and see my beautiful baby girl. She will have one bebe in her mouth and a slew of others thrown around. I will pick up that big 3 year old and thank my lucky stars that someone liked me enough to bless me with someone so wonderful. I will hope that she will continue to keep her spirit, maintain that confidence, know the love of her family is there with her, and enjoy the next year as much as she has this one. Happy Birthday my wonderful wild child.
Thursday, May 31, 2012
Sister Love
One of my co-workers is getting ready to say happy graduation to her oldest daughter on Saturday. She has two girls, with very similar personalities to my two oldest. We often swap stories and it's fun to hear about them growing up and what I have to look forward to. And yes, I'm cringing a little bit. She came in this morning to show me a picture of the two of them all dressed up hugging each other. Her comment was, "look how much they love each other." I couldn't help but think about how many pictures, memories I have of my girls together laughing and loving one another. I was quick to point out that it's easy to take for granted how truly lucky we really are. I've seen quite a few examples of siblings that are quite an amorous. So call it good parenting, luck, whatever. It's a gift and one to treasure.
I'm reminded as I grow older how my parents opted to just have one of me. I am fairly high maintenance I guess they figured one was enough to keep them busy. I don't recall a lot of my childhood and I partly attribute that to my lack of a sibling. I think having sisters and brothers help keep you connected. Whether you like it or not, you are tied to the past, to your family. I always remind my girls how important it is to take care of your sisters. I get a slight tinge of jealousy sometimes thinking about the bond they are developing, something I didn't have growing up.
I can still remember a few years ago when my girls were playing with some friends and Alex and the other girl were not being nice to Gabby. I might add, the other girl was instigated it, of course. Gabby stood there with her hands on her hips and screamed at Alex, " you need to stop it, you are my sister, you're supposed to stand up for me!". I was so proud of her. That night I sat on the side of Alex's bed and I told her that Gabby was entirely right in what she said and that I hoped she remembered how much passion her sister had behind those words. The same passion that she had towards taking care of her. Gabby has always been a great big sister. In turn, Alex has turned into a pretty darn good big sister with her baby sister. I was watching her last night hold hands with her little sister tagging along at a school event. I know she really just wanted to run along and play with her friends, but she was careful to keep a close eye on her little tag along.
Today, unfortunately, I got a firm slap in the face on how important those familial bonds can be. My parents came up for the weekend and my poor Dad hadn't been here more than an hour before he got a call that his Mother passed away. He is lucky to have three brothers and a sister and all of them were on the phone sending love and talking about what to do. What a relief to have that support. I got a call from my cousin, the closest I have to a sister, and we laughed and cried together. A great reminder of the strong bond of family. I am go grateful my girls will have that and I hope they will remember to draw on it and gain strength from it.
I know my girls lives will push and pull them in different directions. I can only hope they will glance back through the pictures, the home movies, recall the memories and smile. I hope that like my co-worker daughters, every picture tells a tale of siblings who love each other. And, like today, when their world falls out from under their feet, I hope they reach for their sisters hand and find it right there waiting for them.
I'm reminded as I grow older how my parents opted to just have one of me. I am fairly high maintenance I guess they figured one was enough to keep them busy. I don't recall a lot of my childhood and I partly attribute that to my lack of a sibling. I think having sisters and brothers help keep you connected. Whether you like it or not, you are tied to the past, to your family. I always remind my girls how important it is to take care of your sisters. I get a slight tinge of jealousy sometimes thinking about the bond they are developing, something I didn't have growing up.
I can still remember a few years ago when my girls were playing with some friends and Alex and the other girl were not being nice to Gabby. I might add, the other girl was instigated it, of course. Gabby stood there with her hands on her hips and screamed at Alex, " you need to stop it, you are my sister, you're supposed to stand up for me!". I was so proud of her. That night I sat on the side of Alex's bed and I told her that Gabby was entirely right in what she said and that I hoped she remembered how much passion her sister had behind those words. The same passion that she had towards taking care of her. Gabby has always been a great big sister. In turn, Alex has turned into a pretty darn good big sister with her baby sister. I was watching her last night hold hands with her little sister tagging along at a school event. I know she really just wanted to run along and play with her friends, but she was careful to keep a close eye on her little tag along.
Today, unfortunately, I got a firm slap in the face on how important those familial bonds can be. My parents came up for the weekend and my poor Dad hadn't been here more than an hour before he got a call that his Mother passed away. He is lucky to have three brothers and a sister and all of them were on the phone sending love and talking about what to do. What a relief to have that support. I got a call from my cousin, the closest I have to a sister, and we laughed and cried together. A great reminder of the strong bond of family. I am go grateful my girls will have that and I hope they will remember to draw on it and gain strength from it.
I know my girls lives will push and pull them in different directions. I can only hope they will glance back through the pictures, the home movies, recall the memories and smile. I hope that like my co-worker daughters, every picture tells a tale of siblings who love each other. And, like today, when their world falls out from under their feet, I hope they reach for their sisters hand and find it right there waiting for them.
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Be Your Own Robot
My sweet Lulu came home from school yesterday with a book that she had worked on in school about a robot. Basically the kids used black squares and rectangles on various pages to tell the story of how this little robot transforms himself into others things. Like on Monday he transforms into a dog, Tuesday a rocket, etc. You get the idea. So I'm listening to Gab do her nightly reading and I see Alex going through her robot book and finally get up and leave to head to the kitchen. When it's her turn to read I finally have to call her in because she is obviously working on something. She reads through the robot book of course which is cute, but it's the addendum page that she has been working on that catches my interest and puts a huge smile on my face.
On the back cover of this little blue paper book is a new ending. One where the robot actually turns back into himself because he likes himself the most. She even adds that he never will change his shape again. Then goes on to include, "The moral of the story is never try to be something you are not." Ok I guess I'll pack up my Mom bag and head out, my work here is done. Hardly...but when your kid takes it upon themselves to tell a story, realize there could be another ending with a positive message, rework it and then add a "moral", that's just good stuff.
I recently read a friends post on Facebook where she had referenced an article that talked about all the things the author wanted for her child. It was actually a great article and one that I could totally agree with. Since the author had a son she didn't really reference image and being proud/loving who you are. I bring up the fact that she had a son and not a daughter more out of reasoning for why she did feel being true to oneself important enough to make her list. I can image that for most that issue is a female one. I'm sure males suffer with image and trying to find their way, but females from day one are thrown into those pink tutus and sent down that pink path.
I noticed an interesting change in my oldest daughter around the middle of first grade. She no longer wanted any dresses, any pink clothing, no frills. I am a true believer in the individual. I struggled myself with trying to figure out who I was and what my style was, my vibe, so to speak. So I am all in support of expressing yourself, as long as we are not wanting to die our hair purple. Trust me I'm sure that day will come. I'm just not ready for it quite yet. Well anyways...I went along and swapped the pink for black, removed all traces of cuteness for edgy and followed along on her creative journey to express herself through clothing. Interestingly enough now in 2nd grade, we are back to wearing dresses, we enjoy pink, and have even been known to sport a bow or two.
It's interesting as a Mom and Woman to watch your girls go through finding their groove. I would rest easy at night if I knew Alex was always going to walk through life living true to the ending of her robot book. However, I'm a realist. I know how strong friends, media, life can influence. Sometimes in a good way, hopefully in a good way. I'm just taking small pleasure in the fact that right now, at this moment in time, she loves who she is, and can't understand being anything else. So innocent and simple. Little does she know its not so simple. Oh well...let's just enjoy the moment. I love my Robots.
On the back cover of this little blue paper book is a new ending. One where the robot actually turns back into himself because he likes himself the most. She even adds that he never will change his shape again. Then goes on to include, "The moral of the story is never try to be something you are not." Ok I guess I'll pack up my Mom bag and head out, my work here is done. Hardly...but when your kid takes it upon themselves to tell a story, realize there could be another ending with a positive message, rework it and then add a "moral", that's just good stuff.
I recently read a friends post on Facebook where she had referenced an article that talked about all the things the author wanted for her child. It was actually a great article and one that I could totally agree with. Since the author had a son she didn't really reference image and being proud/loving who you are. I bring up the fact that she had a son and not a daughter more out of reasoning for why she did feel being true to oneself important enough to make her list. I can image that for most that issue is a female one. I'm sure males suffer with image and trying to find their way, but females from day one are thrown into those pink tutus and sent down that pink path.
I noticed an interesting change in my oldest daughter around the middle of first grade. She no longer wanted any dresses, any pink clothing, no frills. I am a true believer in the individual. I struggled myself with trying to figure out who I was and what my style was, my vibe, so to speak. So I am all in support of expressing yourself, as long as we are not wanting to die our hair purple. Trust me I'm sure that day will come. I'm just not ready for it quite yet. Well anyways...I went along and swapped the pink for black, removed all traces of cuteness for edgy and followed along on her creative journey to express herself through clothing. Interestingly enough now in 2nd grade, we are back to wearing dresses, we enjoy pink, and have even been known to sport a bow or two.
It's interesting as a Mom and Woman to watch your girls go through finding their groove. I would rest easy at night if I knew Alex was always going to walk through life living true to the ending of her robot book. However, I'm a realist. I know how strong friends, media, life can influence. Sometimes in a good way, hopefully in a good way. I'm just taking small pleasure in the fact that right now, at this moment in time, she loves who she is, and can't understand being anything else. So innocent and simple. Little does she know its not so simple. Oh well...let's just enjoy the moment. I love my Robots.
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