Putting a clothes pin in my teeth in order to free my hands to snap the freshly washed cloth diapers in the air then pin to the clothes line in the hot Arizona sun, I looked over to my toddler playing on the tire swing and then to my infant I had laid on top of the basket of clean damp clothes and diapers. There was a monsoon storm brewing in the south horizon. "If I can get these hung up quickly enough I bet they'll be dry before the rain comes." Pulling out the folding lawn chair to nurse the baby, we waited for the sun to do it's magic turning the diapers a bright white. I gazed at the building storm clouds, giving the occasional push to the tire swing with my outstretched foot for my toddler daughter, "More Mama! Push me one more time!"
Folding the clothes and making neat piles of diapers, sleeper sacs, and toddlers shorts and shirts, I'd pause now and then to hold a little white onesie up to my face and inhale the intoxicating scent of a mix of baby'ness and sunshine. A pot of pinto beans simmered on the stove. Poor man's food. But I didn't feel poor. I felt lucky. I felt wealthy. I didn't have anyone or anything around to tell me I was otherwise.
Entertainment meant a trip to the public library once a week. The number of books one could check out was ten. We came home with ten books, and read ten books each evening at bed-time. After my babies fell asleep, I'd wait for the sun to lower and often go sit on the porch with my own novel, the loud hum of cicadas was my background playlist. Re-reading some of the classics I was assigned to read in High School, but was too distracted to care enough to appreciate at the time. The Scarlet Letter, Huckleberry Finn, Animal Farm. Sometimes even taking a book to bed with me and reading until far too late. I'll take a nap with the girls tomorrow. Sometimes that worked, sometimes it didn't. If nothing else, I'd doze while nursing the baby and have Natalie sit next to me watching a re-run of "I Love Lucy". Her favorite.
I thrift shopped for the little girls. Hand-me-downs were often beautiful enough to make me feel almost awkward, as the clothes were from boutiques; frills upon frills that we'd never be able afford. The girls twirled in their new-to-them ribbons, lace and bows; I was grateful for the kindness of sisters and friends.
I'm sure almost everyone has that one gift that was on their Christmas list as a child that just never made it's way under the tree. "A gift to read, a gift to wear, and a gift to play with" was pretty standard for us kids growing up. Every now and then I like to get on E-bay and search for "The Sunshine Family". Small dolls (barbie-sized) but with a father, a mother, a baby, and even a puppy. They even came with classic 70's hair-do's and clothing. I was obsessed. I begged. My mother didn't believe in Barbie dolls, and I suppose this was too close to being just that. I never understood how to play with my friend's Barbies anyway. Mostly I just wanted that little plastic family and to force my little brother Joel to pretend to be the father and I could be the mother and bake the food and tend the baby and he could pretend go to work and read the newspaper and fix things. There is probably no one on earth more relieved that I never got that most coveted gift than my little brother.
An electric blanket
An orange and maybe some chocolate covered cherries
We clocked hours on the riding horse
Five more babies joined our household. Five boys. Snips, snails, and puppy-dog tails. All of it. With each addition, came more chaos, a large grocery bill, more trips to the doctor for them and me. Music lessons, homework, sports practices and events, play-dates, cub-scouts, stitches, wrestling matches and football games (in the living room).
One Friday evening as we gathered around the T.V. with pizza, pop-corn and candy for our "family movie night", I was flooded with that same feeling of contentment I had felt years earlier. This is the best. My little chicks all gathered around me with their blankets and bowls of snacks. We had cable television now. Perhaps it was "The Mummy" we were watching that night. I'm not exactly sure. Just as I was settling into the glowy feeling the phone rang. Natalie, being the oldest and most social, (and nosy) ran to answer. It was for her. A friend was wondering if she could come over and hang out at their house. She held her hand over the mouthpiece of the phone, her newly braced-tooth smile, ear to ear with that begging look of pleeeeeeaaaase can I go?! Never in my life had I had such a rush of mixed emotion all at once. How could I say no to my girl? How could my girl up and leave her place at the head of my little pile of people?! "Well sure honey, of course you can go" My heart sinking, I smiled at her. We made arrangements with the other parents to coordinate the logistics of pick-ups and drop-offs.
That night marked the moment my life as a parent of only young children changed to being a parent of a mixed bag of aged people. No longer would they all share the same toys, music and T.V. shows. The questions and conversations moved from simple and pragmatic to deep and often unanswerable. I was moving into a realm of parenting teenagers and babies all at once. Sleepless nights of crying babies mixed with sleepless nights waiting for teenagers to come home from dates.
It is said that to dwell on the past can cause feelings of sadness, even depression. To dwell on the future can create angst. Living in the moment we are in and appreciating it for the beautiful parts is likely the best way to keep a good mind-set. I think it really is good counsel, and I try to find the good in each day.
Today is Bronson's (my youngest child/son's birthday. He is no longer a teen-ager. It is also the first birthday he has ever lived away from me. He is halfway around the world in the Philippines, learning a new language, eating new food, meeting new people, learning about Jesus Christ and His gospel and sharing his testimony with anyone who might like to hear it. My last baby now becoming a man. I miss him desperately. I wouldn't want him anywhere else.\
My children are also now my very good friends. Every once in a while if one of them doesn't reply to my text quickly enough, I, of course, in my mind, have them six feet under. The children become adults but the parenting really never ends.
I never did get that Sunshine Family set of dolls. So I guess I sort of created one of my own. And come to think of it, that mama doll did have a great midi-skirt. I think I'll go on-line and search e-bay for a "70's skirt". Classic. And just maaayyyyyybe I'll check out the dolls while I'm at it. For the grand-kids to play with of course.
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