Growing Pains Of The Heart

I don't cry easily, so this should be a breeze to write about...

Okay, that was a total lie; I cry easily, frequently, silently, loudly and ugly.  I cry tears of sadness, happiness, anger, frustration, love and when I run out of the new International Delight's new iced coffee (preferably the mocha flavor).  Basically that means you can't say to me any of the following without the possibility of my eyes welling up and more times than not spilling over:

• I love you - happy tears (the amount of tears spilled is directly effected by the punctuation I hear in your voice...unless you're patting me on the head and looking at me like you're chanting "bless her heart" to yourself)
• I hate you - angry tears (that will get you the hot-salty tears and possibly a strongly worded email that will most likely sit in my drafts folder)
• I'm disappointed in you - instant tears with immediate spillage
• Clean the house - that's a mixture of frustration and sadness tears with a dash of the angry kind (okay, so I don't cry about that but I do secretly pout)

I'll assume you get the picture because according to all the emoticons developed recently someone has a direct line to whichever lobe or section...gland(?) in my brain that's tethered to my tear ducts and what I feel depending on what's been said to me.  I'm mostly impressed with the little yellow face that has the big, toothy grin that, in my opinion, excuses me from asking all types of my under-developed or premature <cough>...fine, stupid questions I text, post or email.  For instance, let's say I ask you if you'll get extra cheese on the pizza you're ordering for us while I'm at the store and I know you hate too much cheese on your pies (which makes me ponder the foundation of our relationship anyway...who doesn't like extra cheese?!).  Knowing that you're probably muttering some endearing words about me under your breath, I quickly text you the yellow-toothy guy (that everyone should have saved in their "recently used" tab) just to ensure your sweet words aren't diminished by putting them in writing.  See, now you're wondering if I'm serious or joking.  It's both, Genius!  If you get the extra cheese and have that disgruntled look on your face when it shows up at the door I can say "awww, that's so sweet, but I was just joking!"; if you don't get the extra cheese and look too smug about it I could possibly get a little pissy myself and say "I sure wish I liked the pizza as much as you do, but whatever, as long as you're happy."  Ah, so many options with the yellow-toothy emoticon.  I can assure you, that was just two examples of what that little yellow dude can do!  I'd also like to quickly tip my hat at the martini glass emoticon as it can mean so many things as well. For instance, it can mean "yeah, it's five o'clock somewhere!"  Or, if you want to get cray - do the martini glass and then the little gun pointed at it when you're kid texts you to ask if it was okay that she took the liberty of inviting seven of her besties over for a sleep-over that night and that, by the way, they'll be here in about forty-five minutes to an hour and this time only one of them is allergic to peanut butter, chocolate, your dog...and hates pizza so what can we have for dinner 'cause they all want to know.  This way instead of texting back something smart-assish like "how 'bout everyone eat a big slice of...", you just text the alcohol/gun combo thus letting your more-than-generous daughter know she is driving you to drink...or shooting perfectly good cocktails.  I didn't think that through until just now; my daughter has probably contemplated doing the head-patting-I-love-you thing many times.  I'd better text her the yellow toothy dude so I can decide how I feel later.

You'll have to excuse my rambling tangent; it's been much too long since I've written a new blog post.  Sometimes life gets in the way...or better yet, we let life get in the way and find other things to do or that need to be done and one day leads to another.  I was just thinking the other day that I've let things that aren't in my control steal my funny.  Even when I knew it and saw it, I would just think to myself "tomorrow...tomorrow I'll get back to what I love to do!"  And I also over explain myself.  I was writing about how easily I cry because whenever I think about my daughter growing up I think about the stages of when and how she says she loves me from when she learned to talk up through present day.  If you want to feel how quickly time has passed think about that!

I wish with all my heart that I could remember the exact moment in time when I first heard my daughter tell me that she loved me.  If I had known then that her teenage years would come so quickly I would have clung to every moment she said those words and every time she looked at me like I was her everything. I'm blessed in that she has said it for so long and so frequently that I didn't miss a one-time thing, but at the same time I know I took that moment for granted and can only remember the more commercialized moment of when she said "Mommy" first.  Well, I think she said that...she could have said "money".  Still a proud moment in time thank you very much.  Anyway, what I do remember is the evolution of her "I love you's" from toddler to teenager and this is how I see it...

When my daughter was around two and only recognized that her dad and I would say the same three words, "I love you", anytime we went to work, bed or whatever that was removing us from her site for longer than five minutes, she learned those words like she was a parrot (didn't care, still wanted to hear them); if I had made a point to say "no new taxes!" every time I left her room or put her to bed then she'd think that was how you tell someone I'm not leaving you for good but just for now and she'd come to expect that and start saying that back to us.  But I don't think her future boyfriends would appreciate it when they found the courage to say that they love her (I could write a whole new post on the misconceptions of love during one's teens) and she would look back at them with huge adoring eyes and say "oh, wow!  No new taxes!!"  Dang, I regret not doing that now; that's my kind of twisted humor right there people.

From the age of four through kindergarten saying I love you was, in my opinion, still a learned response.  I'm sure she knew it meant something warm and fuzzy so those three little words flowed freely from my child as she secretly tested it's strength and usability.   At this age, while sticking to my opinion that saying "I love you" was automatic or a learned response, most children are also testing parents resolve, patience, and limits all the while (and unbeknownst to the lay-parent) testing what the three magic words can get them or let them get away with.  Because I am in that group of parents that have their hearing tied directly to their heart-strings, my daughter had more power than she knew.  There is a sucker in every parental unit and that was me.  My husband was more than willing to point that out when it was obvious I bought into the words during times that maybe I was being sold a bill of goods.  "I love you too Skye!  What?  Well...yeah, sure you can bring home a velociraptor!  You owe me ten kisses too now?!"  Is that an exaggeration?  Yes, but only slightly.  When she said those words my defenses fell at the speed of melt.

Somewhere in the six to eight year range kids learn that saying I love you can be dangled in front of adoring family members like a carrot to a farm mule.  I imagine them holding a crappy twig from the creek they frequent in the neighborhood with a bunch of silly dentist office stickers adorning it and, using the only white sewing thread you have for emergency button fixes, they've tied the words "I love you" written in puffy stickers that are barely clinging to their most recent report card and all you can think is "I must get those words...I...must...get...almost there...yes, you can have McDonald's that's-probably-not-real-meat chicken nuggets for dinner for the third time this week...just give me the damn half-deflated puffy letters that feed my soul!"  What?  That's normal right?  Okay, so maybe your letters aren't puffy...I can't help that my "I loves you's" have flare.

Now we're at the age where everything gets confusing; from sixth grade until...until...well, from then on it's touch and go when you can and can't say I love you to your child. Now, instead of you seeing the words dangling precariously in front of your face-heart, our darling children hold the words hostage.  Hostage I say! They should come with a disclaimer saying, in teeny-tiny type I should add, that these words do not bind said child to repeating them in the same scenario or setting in the future, as well said child may resend these same words at any moment if you happen to play any 80's song louder than a setting of 1 on your car radio as you let them out in the mommy circle at school.  Also, you will not hold your child responsible for accidentally slipping and saying the words aloud within ear-shot of any peers and for the love of God don't bring it up in hopes that you'll gain a repeat performance in the future.  So because I like you I'll give you some tips (bribery) that will help (get) the "I love you"'s to flow (more like hissing) from your child.  This is only for the brave (not so bright) parent so try at your own risk.

1.  When dropping off your child at school prepare them to let loose the words you long to hear by warning them that you will not only blast your radio to any tune being replayed on the 80's or 90's station but that you will, knowing the words or not, be singing along when they get out of the car.  Note:  this goes for getting a kiss while waiting for the kid that takes forever to get out of his or her car even though it's the same routine they've followed for years and they still can't get their shi...stuff out in a timely manner.

2.  Make sure you follow through!  If number one doesn't work and you didn't blast your radio as threatened, make sure to pretend like you were giving them a chance.  It's important that the very next time they don't at least whisper I love you while you come to an almost-stop while throwing their book bag at them you roll their window down and screech something like "I love you too!" or if you've chickened out on number one a few times bring out the big guns and say "I love you too!  And don't worry, I'll flush the potty this time but try to remember tomorrow!!"  I also suggest pretending not to see the "I hate you" look they shoot you if you have to resort to such measures.  For me it only took one time of waving like a freak and loudly suggesting to my kid that she "make good decisions!" to keep her on track for a good six to eight months.  I only had to threaten the radio when she was in the seventh grade because she is now scared to test my resolve.  Hey, it bothers me none if some random kid hears me...besides, they probably have some help-group for kids tormented by caring parents.

3.  If all of that fails...well, you have a boy and I have NO idea what to say to help you.

The good news is that my daughter, no matter the age, showers me with love and affection from somewhere around 7:00pm (after she and her two besties that are boys finish killing zombies, playing some Madden football game or come in from skateboarding) until she falls asleep.  Does she use that to make me come re-tuck her in too many times for what a 13 year-old needs...yes!  Do I care?  Heck-to-the-no!  I love it and I love her.  

My teenager might suffer from growing pains in her bones but I, like most parents, suffer from growing pains of the heart.  Keep saying "I love you" as much as possible because I can promise you they hear you whether they acknowledge it or not.

I love you Skye!!