Today I Believe...

I timed my morning drop off of Hansel & Gretel perfectly.
Cinderella was already at camp, dropped off by her Dad who chooses to handle her transportation himself, despite my offers to help out since I am there anyway with H & G.
She was radiant. Bubbly. Like the Cinderella I know and not the gloomy sour-puss I've seen the past few weeks.
I called her over. She spotted the small box in my hand that was wrapped in golden paper.
I got a present!?!?!?!?
"Happy Birthday. You look so beautiful today."
I hugged her, holding her tight and taking in the scent of her freshly shampoo'd hair, still damp because it's so thick. I cradled her face in my hands, wished her a happy birthday, and kissed her cheek that was pink and glowing from the smiling one should always do on their birthday.
She smiled broader, thanked me and skipped off with her gift and hand-written card in which I told her how much I loved and missed her. She plopped to the floor and opened them surrounded by her friends.
I didn't linger. Didn't wait for her reaction or additional thanks. I wanted her to have her space to process and digest the sentiments expressed in my card and the message of the bracelet.
I had done what I intended to do. I reached out and she accepted.
I sat in my car and shed a few tears. I was relieved. And realized how much I missed that kid.

Today I Believe ... there is hope for our relationship.

14

Cinderella turns 14 tomorrow.
I have not seen or spoken much with her in two months since she and Prince Charming moved out, but I realized that I cannot will not let another milestone go by without acknowledging it in a way that lets her know I am still here for her.
I missed her graduation by my own choice. Driven by my own insecurities. Feeling like I was not wanted. It was a mistake that I don't plan on repeating.
A recent commenter reminded me that my presence in her life is necessary. And while I cannot control her reaction to me or our situation, I can control how I handle it. I can still reach out to her and let her know I am still here. I still love her.
I understand this is a confusing time for her. And so, even if she rejects my efforts, I will still hold out hope that I am reaching her in some way. Reassuring her that she has not lost me, and that she can still count on me to be there no matter what. Maybe one day she will reach back.
I plan to seek her out tomorrow at the camp she is going with her brother and sister, and give her a pewter bracelet for her birthday. The outside is inscribed "Today I Believe..."
On the inside: My possibilities are endless.

Today I Believe... that the possibilities for my relationship with Cinderella are endless, as is my determination.

8

Eight years ago today I was being prepped for induction.
Hansel was 11 days late. The doctors had my due date set for July 4, 2002. (I disagreed, but what do I know. I'm just the Mom.)
After three rounds of pitocin, 12 hours of labor and an hour and a half of pushing, he was delivered at 10pm via c-section.
I took one look at him, and remember thinking how much he looked like Cinderella.
I experienced every possible method of labor and delivery with Hansel on his birth day. And that was how he was meant to come in to this world. I didn't complain or feel sad because his birth didn't happen the way I wanted. I had a healthy and beautiful baby boy. And that was all that matters. I wouldn't trade that scar on my belly for anything else. This is the story of his birth, and I'll keep it.


If that's one lesson I want to pass on to Hansel, that would be it...
Life doesn't always happen the way you want it to. It happens the way it needs to.

And sometimes, all you need in life, is to look at things with a different perspective.
Happy birthday, my Little Man.

A First...And An Unexpected Last.

Gretel started summer camp last week.

The same camp her brother has gone to for the past three summers and Cinderella for the past six.

She is the LAST of my children that will have their first ever day of camp. Another milestone ticked off the List of Firsts, never again to be repeated.

I packed her lunch and backpack Sunday night and laid it by the front door, next to her brother's.

I stood back and took in the sight of his Star Wars bag and her Tinkerbell bag and I couldn't help notice what was missing - a third backpack.

Cinderella's.

Hers would be packed by Prince Charming this year. My car would be quieter for the 30 minute drive each morning and afternoon, with one less voice singing and giggling in the back seat.

I wasn't prepared for the fact that LAST summer was the LAST time I packed Cinderella's lunch and backpack for camp.

 And I am definitely not prepared for my Little Pixie growing up so damn fast.