Mommy Envy

I recently received an email from a fellow mommy whom I like and genuinely admire. For the sake of her anonymity, I won't go into the particulars about her except to say that she and her husband are dedicated, loving parents who make their children their number one priority. In the e-mail, mommy X expressed that she felt just a small pang of envy about one of McKenna's accomplishments. She has a daughter close to McKenna's age and both girls have experienced some similar milestone challenges.

This mommy felt like a creep. In my own excitement to share a big McKenna achievement, I made another mom feel not-so-great. And I hate that--especially when my friend pours her heart and soul into being a really good parent. Not to mention the fact that her daughter, despite some issues, is doing really well and is a shining little star in her own right.

I hope I don't give the impression that I blog to show-off. I wonder if I ought to write more about the tantrums, the back talk, the frustration. Maybe a few pics of my two darlings in a hair raising screaming match are in order. Because I don't want this to be anything like the photo albums of our parents and grandparents generations. You know the ones--where image after image reflects the way our parents wanted life to be remembered versus the way it really was. Snapshots of children in rows, in front of fireplaces, saying cheese in their Sunday best. It was the way everyone preserved memories in those days. I'm just opting for something a little more evolved. And hopefully Ethan and McKenna's tools and methods for recording their children's histories will be even more amazing.

So, without airing every bit of childhood laundry, I'll try to throw in the not-so-good with the great a little more often. Because raising children, while the best job in the world, is filled with more ups and downs than I can shake a stick at. And we mommies, well, we're in this thing together. We should be anyway.

By the way mommy X. Your little girl is doing great. The other kidlet too for that matter. And I marvel at your perseverance and dedication. I learn from you every time we're together.

Ode to Oracle

My Friend Linette

In short, I have never known anyone like her. She walks into a room and for those who don't know her, they're not quite sure what to make of her. To be sure, she's what your mother would have called a "big girl". And she's big in all kinds of ways. Tall and boisterous and opinionated and happy and helpful and cheerful and just busting to tell you about the latest thing that's thrilling her to no end or royally pissing her off.

When you're in Linette's inner sanctum you get the real deal...sometimes whether you want it or not. She'll tell you if that new rug in your living room is ugly or if you've got hips built-for-birthing or if your kid whines too much. Don't expect too much sugar coating because sometimes you just get the bitter pill. As it turns out, what I am getting is usually the medicine that no one else had the courage or inclination to give me.

She is my daughter's Godmother. I chose her after much reflection. There were other choices to be sure. I know that she takes it seriously. She won't be sending cards every minute but she will make sure that McKenna always knows she has a Godmother out in California.

There all kinds of specifics I could share about Linette but I'm not going to do that today. I just wanted to throw something out there about how thankful I am that she's my friend--even from afar.

Thank goodness for my female friendships. Men just cannot and should not be the end-all be-all.