My family moved into Clear Lake the summer after I finished first grade. With the aid and assistance of various photographs and recorded video (Dad carried our trendy and heavy camcorder atop his probably aching shoulder), I vaguely remember having a picnic on the slab of our home - the same house in which my parents still live today. The house's location was and remains a parents' dream. Nestled in the safety of a cul-de-sac, our house sat right next to a winding "greenbelt." Named affectionately for the budding trees planted by the Friendswood Development Company, it has become somewhat "greener" over the past twenty-something years. The concept is brilliant. It is a safe paved sidewalk that runs through the neighborhood and away from the streets and it spans the distance of over four blocks on our side. When Austin and I were little, we played for hours outside building pretend forts, riding our bikes, roller-blading, and playing with our dogs. I even remember having "Hermit Crab Races" on the hot pavement of the Greenbelt. Those poor Hermit crabs probably questioning their personal sins that landed them in such lovely care. Anyway, the Greenbelt runs all the way to the neighborhood pool - the location of Sunday fun with Sadie this past Memorial Day weekend. I pulled her down the winding Greenbelt path to the pool while she laid back in the wagon Austin and I had played with numerous times. I even broke his arm in this wagon when he was a little tyke causing me to be overly cautious as we made our way to the pool.
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| The Greenbelt |
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| Relaxing in the Wagon! |
Once we arrived, we worked to get Sadie in the "Baby Pool." I must say, it was not nearly as fun or easy as I had hoped. She immediately started crying and clung to Granny afraid she was about to embark on yet another lovely swim lesson, otherwise known in our household as "Daily Baby Water-boarding." I cringed as she cried, fearful the very lessons meant to keep her safe had irrevocably ruined her love for the water. Eventually, she calmed down and noticed two other sweet children (5 and 3) swimming in the pool with her. They were so kind and upon hearing that this was her fist real jaunt in the water, immediately shared their water toys with her. Sadie grinned and exclaimed, "HI!" as they encircled her with laughter and kindness.
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| With her borrowed toys, Mommy, and Granny |
After playing a while, she grew more confident and eventually was walking back and forth to Granny and me without much fear. She did teeter twice and her head went under water. However, thanks to her swim lessons, she knew how to hold her breath and didn't so much as utter a cough upon breaking the surface again. She was most comfortable clinging onto me as we visited with an old friend I used to babysit for (her infant daughter now in high school). Sadie seemed to have a better time and my hope in her loving the water was renewed...until the splasher showed up. This girl was probably around five and kept throwing a whiffle ball wildly into the air with no regard for the water that would drain erratically out of the holes with every toss. These errant splashes landed all over me, my mother, the other kids, and of course, (and most important at the moment to me) my daughter. I let it happen several times and considered how to approach a young child. This is not my high school classroom after all; the same tactics will not apply or work. As gently as I was capable, I asked her to "please don't throw that ball" because it was splashing. She looked quizically at me then 2 minutes later resumed her deviant behavior. Again I looked around for a watching mommy (hoping she would come handle the child) and when no one emerged, asked again. This time I was clearer, "Do NOT throw that ball anymore. You are splashing my baby." Yikes.
There are many different types of mommies.Before I had Sadie I worried about being a great mommy because I didn't feel like I naturally epitomized the Proverbs 31 women. I automatically associated her with meekness, gentleness, a quiet spirit, and self-control and while I revere all these virtues, I hardly have the corner on the market of any one of them. I was born ready to advocate on behalf of someone else. I confronted bullies in elementary school, carefully told kids off who "messed with" Austin at McDonalds, questioned openly the intent of a concierge who was rude to my Granny, and later championed for the rights of many students who either had no voice or felt theirs had been silenced. I like helping others fight their battles and as I realize I probably should have pursued law or something of the like, I think God had a great plan for me as an educator and now mother. I have learned that the Proverbs 31 woman was an advocate for her husband and family and I am encouraged by her. I realize that we are all different and the fact that I feel emboldened to help others is a gift God has given me. I realize now that the very fervor I once questioned makes me an excellent advocate, not only for others, but for my young daughter. I cannot fight every battle for her, but I can stand armed with love and support for whenever she needs me.
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| Happy with Mommy |
After Granddaddy showed up, we waded in the water a bit longer before getting out of the pool. Sadie wrapped her new pink mermaid terry-cloth towel around her and giggled with glee, no doubt a direct result of us allowing her to set foot on dry land once more. We pulled her home in the wagon, back down the Greenbelt, and I remembered how many days I had taken that journey with my parents as a child and grew more thankful with every step that I have the priveiege to raise my child so close to the rhetoric of place I have grown to love, surrounded by the people who made it special.
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| "TA - DA!!!" |
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| The Whole Gang |