Art of Motherhood: Can I Exhale Now?

Since my last post, we've settled on a place for the wedding. We've nearly settled on a place for the reception. And we're not quite settled on a dress -- we want to get a look at the new fashions coming out. I'm actually happy to have the time to catch our breaths. As you know, this is a time of transition for me, "my baby" is getting married. Not a bad thing. Leah will always be the most important person on the planet for me. She has been from the moment I realized she was growing inside of me. But Nick's a nice young man and Leah is perfectly capable of taking care of herself. When I mentioned to her recently that it was time for her to either pay her share of the phone bill or get a cheaper phone and pay for it herself, she didn't complain and simply asked how much it was. She cheerfully agreed to pay her share.

That moment reminded me of a growing realization I've had. I'm beginning to exhale. Basically I've been waiting to exhale all these years, holding my breath hoping to get Leah to adulthood without something bad happening to her. Providing for her. Putting her needs always head of mine. Well, she's grown and making a life of her own with Nick. She's got a fiance; a new, better-paying job; and a new apartment. And she's just going to be who she's going to be, I have come to realize. My role as a parent-teacher is coming to an end.

Now I can finally exhale. Or start to breath anyway.

Who am I beyond being Leah's mom? That's who I've been for 24 years. I've been blessed to have a full life beyond Leah. I'm active at church. I have a lot of wonderful family and friends. I have an interesting and challenging job. I'm engaged with the world through my volunteering with nonprofits on behalf of children. I think having those things helped me adjust when Leah went off to Colgate University for four years. But who am I now?

So one of the moves I'm making to redefine myself, beyond being Leah's mom, is art. Yes, art. When I was a kid, a salesman for an art program came to our house. I had drawn -- a picture of a dog or a man or something like that -- in response to one of those ads in either TV Guide or Readers Digest. He was there to sell art lessons. We didn't buy the lessons but, later, I dabbled in art in high school. Was offered a small art scholarship to college but declined. I wanted to be a lawyer then. Lately I've been thinking about art again. Thinking about transforming Leah's old room into a studio. Someplace for me to come home to after a hard day's work and distract my mind.

Last Friday, two colleagues and I attended "Cocktails, Canvas And Crafts," a unique evening at a studio in Maplewood where we "shared a sip, a nibble and a lot of creativity." I painted dogwood branches based upon a photo Laura had shown me earlier in the week. (The theme of the evening was "It's Spring.") Loved it! The results of my three hours of labor are pictured above in case you were wondering about the painting above.  I can't say it was exactly like riding a bicycle -- my old hands don't have the same delicate touch with the paintbrush. But, thanks to Annie, my teacher for the evening, I think I'll be going back.

To exhale a little bit at a time...don't want to hyperventilate.

Along for the Ride: Little Rock (Ark.) Here We Come!

About two weeks ago Friday, I went on a much-anticipated road trip with my friend Kirby. Kirby and I met through Leadership St. Louis and became fast friends. Kirby is kind, well-read and a gentleman. We also share a keen interest in social justice issues. For a long time, we had talked about going to Little Rock, Ark., to the Clinton Presidential Library and Museum. We'd heard good things about the library and since it was President's Day, it was now or never because of our busy schedules. Now! We also figured we could stop at the Little Rock Central High School Historic Site. Leah and Nick came along. (Watch a slideshow from our trip.)

The trip was fun and informational. We laughed a lot. A lot. About silly things, which is the best kind of laughter. Later, as Leah and Nick strolled hand-in-hand and side-by-side (see photo above) through the exhibits at the Central High historic site and stood outside of the nearby larger-than-life high school that had been the flashpoint for school integration in the late 1950s, I remembered a conversation nearly 30 years earlier with my well-meaning mother when I brought Leah's father home to meet my parents. My mother worried that the biracial children of our marriage would be treated badly by a world that didn't welcome interracial marriages.

I was born in 1959. Right around the time of the turmoil at Central High School. The year before, Mildred and Richard Loving, were ordered to leave the state of Virginia. At the time, interracial marriage (because of anti-miscegenation laws) was illegal in that state and several others in the South. It wasn't until 1967 that the U.S. Supreme Court blessed the Lovings union. (There's a great document about the Lovings now showing on HBO.)

Times change. Thankfully. I'm not worried for Leah and Nick.

Miracle of Miracles: Leah Puts on Panty Hose

For the 24 years I've been Leah's mom, we've butted heads over few issues like we have over how she dressed.

When she was little, I purchased all manner of Oshkosh clothes. (See photo on this blog. Isn't she cute?) She even won grand prize in a Dillard's Oshkosh contest when she was about two years old. But as she got older, she wanted to express her individuality -- which I was mostly fine with. I let her wear the gray Skechers as if they were dress shoes. The 3-inch heels, which made my feet hurt looking at them on her feet. And I even went with her when she got her first tattoo -- a very tasteful dove on her foot.

I did draw the line at wearing shorts in the winter. And I tried to draw the line on the slipper/moccasins she wore as if they were every-day shoes. Yet, one article of clothing I could never get Leah to agree to, even as she got older, was panty hose.

Refused to wear 'em, despite my occasional requests. I figured it was a generational thing. To me, that's how my mom raised us. My mom's a lady and ladies wore panty hose. I'm not hung up on hose but sometimes the occasion calls for them. For her part, Leah wouldn't have been caught dead in a pair of hose. It was like squeezing her legs into sausage casings.

Yet, in a sign of her growing maturity and a new grown-up job, she wore panty hose to church on Sunday.

Hose-anna! She looked like a young lady. I guess maturing can take one leg at a time.

Mothers-in-Law: The Butt of Jokes or a Best Friend?

Yes the wedding is more than a year off. But I'm working on adjusting to the idea that Leah will be married. Slowly, too, I'm coming around to the realization that I will be someone's mother-in-law. Leah and I have been thick as thieves but that's about to change. Remember from a previous post? Out with Team Kee and in with Team Kovac.

So what do mothers-in-law do anyway?
I typed "What do mothers-in-law do?" into the Google box today and well you can only imagine the results. Lots of jokes at the top of the list. There were 99,500,000 results! Some are too mean-spirited to reprint here. But this one will give you the gist:

Q: What's the ideal weight for a MIL (shorthand for mother-in-law)?
A: About 2.3 pounds, including the urn.

Yuck, yuck. (Pun intended.)

There was even a book called "Mothers-in-Law Do Everything Wrong" with the subtitle M.I.L.D.E.W.
I've also consulted a few of my male friends. The general consensus? Maintain a safe distance. It can't be that bad, can it?

Any advice? Send me funny M.I.L. stories if you're so inclined.

Transition: From Team Kee to Team Kovac

A few weeks back, Leah had her car broken into and the dashboard  in her Soup Car (red sports car) dismembered. And under normal circumstances, I would have been the first call she made and first on the spot. Or at least I always had been. When her car wouldn't start. When she was mad at a friend. When she couldn't figure out a form. When she didn't feel good.

This time, though, she called me after Nick had arrived on the scene. Nick is Leah's fiance. Should I come down? I asked. No, Nick is here, she told me. Honestly, initially, I was still thinking about going down. But the moment also revealed itself to be a turning point. Just to be sure everything was OK, I texted Nick. His responses reassured me.

But it got me thinking...Do you remember the book "Runaway Bunny?" By Margaret Wise Brown, the book had become my mommy bible. Like Brown's book, I would be there for my bunny, no matter what she did and where she went. We were "Team Kee." Well it dawned on me the evening of Leah's misfortune with her car that things were changing. As I told Nick, in a text, it will now be "Team Kovac." And I wasn't sad about it.

She's in good hands. Besides, it was really, really cold outside.

Joyful Noise: Leah Turns 24!

Leah turned 24 on Saturday -- and she invited me to her first dress rehearsal. A rehearsal for a wedding dress, that is.
I was thankful for the invitation. At times, it feels like the milestones are going by sooo fast. Her first day of school. Her high school graduation. Her college graduation. Her engagement last fall. And while I am excited for her, it all makes me feel a touch older. OK, OLD. However, that was all forgotten on Saturday.

As always, Leah makes me smile. It's hard not to when you're in a room with her. Because God blessed me with a happy child. And now she is a happy, radiant adult. (Pause here for a moment of sappiness: I don't always smile or laugh easily. I tend to seriousness and thinking A LOT, which can take the fun out of some stuff. So when Leah was in the womb, I'd pray to God that she be healthy and happy. He delivered.)

David's Bridal on a Saturday was a beehive of bridal hubbub. Brides-to-be with parents, friends and other relatives in tow or gathered in clusters as the young women emerged from dressing rooms feeling like princesses. That it's prom season, too, added to action.

With each dress tried on, Leah smiled so broadly it seemed as if her face might crack. But it didn't. She had arrived with bridal catalogues under her arm and knew what she wanted. Sweetheart neckline. Drop waist. Off-white fabric. She and her friends -- Katie (one of five bridesmaids and Rosie, Nick's sister) -- and I couldn't help but smile back. View Leah in other gowns!

OK, the wedding's still more than a year off and we've got plenty of time before the Big Day. Lots of planning to do and money to save. And maybe it is against some wedding tradition to show friends the photos from Saturday. (As I did with my church friends on Sunday.) But the JOY on Leah's face was so precious and infectious. And sharing that just couldn't be wrong.

My little girl looked all grown  up. Happy birthday to Leah -- and me!

My Girly Daughter

Pink.

At lunch today, a Knot-magazine carrying Leah announced to Laura and myself the colors for her wedding. Some kind of green. Some kind of off white, I think. Or maybe it was yellow or gold? But there's no forgetting PINK. Bridemaids dress - pink. A bouquet -- uh nosegay -- of pink flowers. God blessed me with a little girl nearly 24 years ago. And through all her various phases -- touch football with the boys and burping aloud (thank God she grew out of that) -- she has always loved the color pink. Pink Oshkosh outfits. Pink sneakers. Pink hair ribbons.

Never quite truly appreciated her passion for pink. I'm more a blue and green. It just goes to show you that Mother Nature trumps a tomboyish Mother of the Bride. After all this time, she's still such a girl. Now, a lovely young woman. And soon to be a Bride.
Stay tuned for more tales from the pink side. About 550 days to go until her wedding day!

View a slideshow photos from Leah's engagement party in December 2011