City Girl

She says she's old now. A whole two decades and she thinks that's old. How does she suppose I feel now that I've been her mom this long?

And no, I do NOT look old enough to have a twenty year old.

But still, I do have one. And all of the precious memories that come along with her.

I was tagged today by HappyWife at Mommy Musings. She challenged a few of us to put the last fifteen years into ten bullet points. I couldn't really get my head around it, but then I thought, why don't I make the list about my City Girl?

So here goes. You might wanna grab a cup of coffee...

* Fifteen years ago, my sweet girl turned five. That fall, she entered Kindergarten. She was in school with her "boyfriend" Richie whom she later ran into in Jr. High. They ignored each other at 13, but at 5, they were in love. That was also the year she learned to ride a bike.

* A couple of years after that, City Girl got sick at school. I was waitressing at a hotel in Orange County. I was between shifts and had just enough time to go get her and come back. She had to sit in the closed section while I finished working. Meanwhile, the chef and restaurant manager kindly brought her some muffins to eat. All of the sudden, I heard a roaring laugh coming from her table. Turns out she told them that Mommy makes those same muffins at home... and we have the same kind of forks, too. Yes, I used to "borrow" stuff from the restaurant.

* Around that same time, we woke up to a really beautiful day. I didn't have the heart to make her go to school, so when Big Little Sister's babysitter showed up, we took off on our roller blades! We skated throughout Crystal Court, South Coast Plaza, and all the theaters and sculptures in the vicinity. We skated over the bridge that used to take us to Bira Poretti's where City Girl and I had once enjoyed lunch after watching the children's version of the ballet, Sleeping Beauty. We skated until we were out of breath and out of sun. It was a great day!

* When she was about eight, I landed a Sales Manager position with the hotel in Marin. We packed ourselves up, City Girl, Big Little Sister, and I and moved to the Home of the Berkinstock. City Girl was nervous when she started her new school but not as nervous as I thought. She told me the story later of how she met her friends. She saw them on the playground, walked over and said, "Can I hang out with you guys?" They said yeah, and that was it. I don't think I was ever that brave...

* A couple years later, we were transferring back to So Cal. I let City Girl have one last slumber party for her birthday. While the girls were doing a scavenger hunt (I wish I could play this memory back on a screen) walking down the middle of the road, they were singing a Spice Girls song. At one part they all stopped with the song, bumped their little butts left and right to the beat, and then continued strutting down the road singing and giggling. You had to be there.

* When City Girl was "promoted" from Sixth Grade to Jr. High, the school had a beach-themed celebration. She wore a red and white hibiscus print dress and her hair was up in pin curls. Cute doesn't even cover how she looked. It was funny to see all the pre-teens at that age, when the chubby cheeks were starting to give way to the young ladies and young men they would become. I always think about the other kids that I've seen grow up alongside her... the ones that would just show up and eat straight out of our refrigerator at the Old House for years to come. I miss that.

* As mentioned before, City Girl's KinderCare boyfriend showed up one day at her junior high. "MOM! GUESS. WHO. I. SAW. TODAY? YOU'LL NEVER NEVER NEVER GUESS!" She was right! I would have never guessed in a million years that after all the detours that his family and our family had taken, that we would end up within a mile of each other in North County San Diego. Now, it would have been a nice story if they would've become the Class Couple and won Homecoming King and Queen... but they didn't. Oh well. His mother and I tried.

* City Girl got her first job pushing carts at Albertson's and we got 5% off all of our groceries... woo hoo! Then she moved on to Cold Stone Creamery. Oh yeah! She came home with ice cream every night and smelling deliciously like waffle cones... much better than stinky tennis shoes, let me tell you. Eventually, she took a job at a coffee house, which was just as good... for her, of course! The only thing better than the smell of waffle cones, is the smell of freshly roasted coffee beans!

* But I need to back up a bit. Before she got the job at the coffee house, City Girl graduated. That day was hectic, but so... well... COOL! My little girl was in her Purple and Gold school colors hugging all of the friends she had known for the last seven plus years... the ones I had watched grow up... the ones that were now full blown adults! She was wearing big shades, a ton of leis, and was rockin' the hair! I loved that this glorious person was my daughter and that she was loving life.

* Then she was in college... sort of. I mean, she tried to get into it... but it wasn't sticking. I was worried, but deep down, I knew she had to find her own way. After a couple of false starts, she did. The day she left for San Francisco, we made her pancakes and ate breakfast together at the Old House one last time. I gave her a card that said "It's YOUR time" because it was. It was her time to go out into the world and discover who she was meant to be. There was a light rain that morning as we stood under an umbrella crying and hugging her goodbye. Then her ride came and she was gone... around the corner and away from the house where we all used to live.

And that's the last fifteen years of being City Girl's Mom. Here's to the next fifteen... and the fifteen after that!

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I love you, Jazzy! Happy Birthday!



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Early Memories

Gustav over at Nine Worlds brought up a memory that I hadn't given myself the pleasure of remembering in quite some time.

When I was a little girl, my teenaged uncle had the lousy chore of having to take care of me when he got home from school. I say lousy chore only because I know now that a boy of his age was not really interested in being saddled with his sister's kid when he wanted to go hang out with his buddies or make out with his girlfriend.

If he ever felt that way, I never knew.

I always felt so special when I held his hand as we walked to the park. He used to swing me and buy me "paletas" when the ice cream cart came ringing down the street. My earliest recollection is of one of those easy afternoons. We were sitting on a little mound of grass just up hill from the sandbox. It was a quiet day. We sat for a while as he patiently waited for a finch to come closer and closer to him. I can't imagine how it was that I sat so quietly, but I guess I must have. We sat there together as the finch gained some strange trust in this human man/boy. Eventually, the bird was perched on my uncle's hand. He held her feet between two fingers so that I could pet her. When I had my fill of touching the feathers, he released her.

I was so upset at him for letting her go!

He gave me his big goofy smile and throaty laugh, the one that still comforts me today. He told me something that I just remembered. "Birds aren't supposed to be in cages. They're supposed to fly."

My uncle eventually married the girl he used to make out with. That was a sad day for me. I remember being very upset while the wedding plans were under way. My uncle used to spend so much time with me and now he would be with this girl all the time. Sure she was nice, but was she going to let him play with me at the park? Um... no. Darn. Well, thirty some years later, they are still married and in love. I am still thankful for his throaty laugh and big goofy grin.

And for the memory of a day in the park.

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