Bathing Suits

So, it's Valentines Day. It's not a day that I go to any effort for whatsoever, anymore. But it wasn't always so and I am recalling one many years ago when I chose to express my affection with gifts other than, heaven forbid, candy, expecially to my chidren. (Yes, I was one of THOSE moms even way back then.) My gift to Amy, probably age 3 or 4 at the time, was her first bikini (one of only a few in her lifetime because she did not, and does not, fancy herself a "bikini girl", unlike her twig-like sister who looked way too good in a bikini way too young. But that is a story for another day.)

Amy's first bikini was sky blue eyelet, and it looked darling on her cherubic little girl body, tasteful and feminine...just MY style for my beloved daughter. But today, as she modeled it in my minds eye, 30+ years after the fact, my memory skipped ahead  to another bathing suit experience a short time later. 

We were shopping in what is now Macy's, and as I looked through one rack, she approached me with something she had pulled from another: a bikini...a gold lamé bikini. "Isn't this beautiful?" she quarried,as serious as could be, as she held it up for me to inspect.. I was appalled; N n way would I ever allow my beautiful little girl to have such a thing  grace her body; a travesty to a mom who had total wardrobe control (among other things), and felt every decision she made for HER children reflected powerfully on HER.

I hope I at least had had the grace to agree with her assessment; I probably didn't. In truth I know for a fact that the words that came from my mouth were "Put it back." I regret that now, would re-write history, if I could. While I don't think denying her her preferred choice in swimwear did any permanent damage, I wish I had seen the bigger picture (ahh! tje wisdom of retrospect!) What would it have hurt for me to have to just said, "Oh, yes! It's divine! Let's get it"? Would it have started her down some path I didn't want her to  travel? Would this just be the tip of the iceberg? Would she become a fashion catastrophe?  Really?....REALLY?!!!. How else does one develop her own sense of style without some experimental forays into a few things that would be better left on the rack? (Let me add that in fifth grade I once chose an ensemble that included a black velvet vest, aqua sweater-knit skirt and red tights!)

This girl still loves bling and has  fine fashion sense. Her own cherubic daughter also loves all things sparkly and already shows an inclination to dress with flair at age 3.  And my daughter, far more gracious than I, with greater vision and more concern for feelings and self-esteem than I ever had, would respond much differently if faced with this same quarry, I believe. " Yes, Emily, it's perfect! We'll get it", I can envision her responding. And they would both laugh one day when the story is recalled. "How could you let me?" I can hear an older Emily ask, and her mother would properly respond, "because you picked it out, and I thought, "what could it hurt?" Yes, indeed...what could it hurt?

There are so many things I did as a young mom that I might change today. Little things, like gold bikinis, were just that: little things, without big consequences.. No, lamé is something I most likely will never embrace, but I should have embraced my young daughter's wish to express herself in ways that delighted her and built her confidence in her own ability to make good decisions, even if they wouldn't have been my choice. After all, there is nothing immoral or illegal about gold lamé.  I wish tthat bikini story (a family favorite) had had a different ending.

 Myabe next year I will search out a gold lamé bikini for Emily. Maybe one for Amy, too. What the heck...gold lamé all around! Won't we be a sight?!

A Pearl of Extraordinary Worth

She was three,  maybe four. We were driving in my car, running errands, she and I. You get the picture: she in the backseat intent on the item  she had reluctantly been allowed to bring along, or more likely, doing a running monologue; I, intent on accomplishing my "list", not keen on distractions and definitely not "savoring the moment". Then she happened to spot an American flag and announced she could say the "Pledge of Legiance" (her term).As she finished I probably effused with praise, at least I hope I did. Then she quickly asked if I would like to hear "the cute little song that goes with it".

To my surprise she launched, ploddingly, but confidently, into "My Country 'Tis of Thee"... her version of "My Country 'Tis of Thee", and as I was just thinking that that was not  the song I anticipated, I heard :

" My country 'tis of thee,

sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing.

 Land of the pilgrims pride,

 land where my father's fried...."  

That, no doubt made perfect sense to a little girl who knew nothing but the blistering heat of Texas summers! But more importantly, I had just experienced one of those remarkable moments that takes you completely by delightful surprise and you know  will be remembered, re-told often, and never be forgotten.  Like finding a pearl in an oyster. Like finding a diamond in a Cracker Jacks box.

From the mouths of babes spring the most amazing comments (and let's admit it, one's own babies are always the most amazing), reflective of their fresh and unique take on their very self-focused world. Then all too soon the rest of the world moves in to correct these delightful mis-speaks,"straightening their corners" and "sanding their rough spots" (and I am somewhat chagrined to admit I am good at both).  I hope I refrained from doing it that day, but I probably didn't.  Regardless, "the cute little song" that goes with the "Pledge of Legiance" with always be one of the best songs ever; it never fails to transport me back to an ordinary day that produced a precious and completely unexpected memory for me of that beloved little girl who was three, maybe four. A pearl of extraordinary worth.

Places In The Heart Revisited

We knew years ago it was special, our neighborhood. "That neighborhood", others would call it. And the friendships forged there were special, too.  We were young women taking on new and challenging roles as wives, mothers,  Christians. Naively,we took for granted the help and support we regularly experienced from one another as we faced the challenges of life.  Inevitably, life took some of us out of the neighborhood, even out of the state, and our time of being all together on a regular basis happened only on the most special of occasions.

As the years progressed, we each experienced the refining fire of tough challenges, be it divorce, serious illness, re-entering the work force or children who wrestled with demons all their own. And we missed what had once come so easily and had been taken so for granted. Eventually, our resolve to  celebrate our shared history and abiding friendship led us to gather  for a weekend get-a-way to catch up on each others lives. Highlighting  the highs, and acknowledging the lows, we moved effortlessly into "remember when"; invisible ties still bound so closely that one word could transport us back or paint a picture so complete no further explanation was necessary. Laughter rang out loud and often tears flowed. We roasted and toasted each other, encouraged, advised and chided....and felt the comfort of long-standing love and acceptance. Twelve years later six of us still spend one or two weekends a year together, which takes heroic effort due to our many obligations, our ever-expanding families and the distance that separates some of us.

We long ago christened ourselves "The Boa Buds"...because we love anything with feathers (and a little "bling" doesn't hurt, either)!  While we enjoy shopping,  a movie or eating out together, one of our most treasured rituals is our "Boa Bud Photo Session". We always take copious pictures of ourselves when together (we apparently think we're  just so  cute...).  Recently, we had the opportunity to be photographed by our fabulously talented young friend Amber Gober. She captured the essence of us:  older women who still are young at heart, over-comers and survivors, women who know who we are and are okay with that. As you can see, we can be silly, even outrageous, but we're proud of whom we've become and what we have together...abiding love and affection  for one another. We are  The Boa Buds...forever friends. The girls from that neighborhood.