Half Way to Moving Out

I recently read the following Facebook post by a mommy friend:

Today was…today...  “Jacob” turned nine today, and after getting in trouble for shooting a dart at his sister’s face, he felt the need to remind me that since he is now nine, he is half-way to moving out.

This made me both sigh and smile. Why are kids always so eager to grow up and move out? And (dare I admit) why am I sometimes so eager for them to move on with their life? It’s a crazy battle that plays out in all of our minds, depending on our mood and the number of “poop-head,” “booger-brains,” and “butt-face” labels slung about the house on any given day. I call these “white flag” days, and they generally end with Little Caesar’s pizza for the kids and a long, hot bath for me.

Now I have about as much expertise on this subject as the next middle-aged mom. I have nine “Jacobs” of my own, four of whom have already left home, with five more to go. Two live half-way across the country and two live half-way across town. Facebook, text messaging, email, and the good ol' telephone help, but I miss my "Jocobs" who have moved on, every single day.

 

As for the ones at home... Still too many "booger-brains" being flicked willy-nilly around our place for me to mourn the prospect of their leaving, but Paco and I do our best to deal with it all, one "booger-brain" a time. There are good days and there are white-flag days. Some days, one of our "Jacobs" figuratively stand at the front door with bags packed, prophesying impending freedom. Oh, the mixed emotions...

From the perspective of both parent and child (having lived both sides of this), leaving home is both wonderful and horrible. You have the freedom to fly, but now you have to flap your own dang wings—generally, a dilemma at one point or another.

 

As one prepares to set out into the wild blue yonder, society will be full of all sorts of helpful suggestions and conventional advice to commence this growing-up and moving-on endeavor--learn to balance a checkbook, change a tire, cook ramen noodles, blah, blah, blah... That's all important. But what I'd like to offer is the not-so-conventional advice to start our little "Jacob's" off on life's path. Here goes...

 

(Disclaimer--I take credit for none of these...but they all make me smile.)

 

Therapy is expensive. Bubble wrap is cheap. You choose.

 

To make a long story short, don't tell it.

 

If you find yourself in a hole, stop digging.

 

A penny saved is...not much...so...

 

The quickest way to double your money is to fold it over, and stick it back in your pocket.

 

Unlike people, laundry should be segregated by color.

 

Two wrongs don't make a right, but three lefts do.

 

If you get a paper on your windshield that says "parking fine" it doesn't mean you did a good job.

 

Don't bite the hand that looks dirty.

 

And lastly...

 

Life is a mystery to be lived, not a problem to be solved.

 

 

So slow down. Enjoy the mystery. And did I mention, slow down???

 

One of my kiddos turns eighteen in a few months, and I'm already grieving this prospect. When he does leave, the balance will shift to more kids grown and gone than at home. Not sure I'm ready yet for this, but you know how the old saying goes: Ready or not...

 

 

Tamra Torero is Wife to Paco, Momma to nine, Grandma of two, Bakery Manager, author of Shayla Witherwood: A Half-Faerie Tale and co-author of a Christmas novel, The Lost Son, with her son, Preston Norton. The day her first son left home she cried for an hour straight, ate an entire box of fudge-covered Oreos...solo...then took in two stray dogs. When they refused to answer to the name, Preston or Punky Doodle she cried some more. Today, she finds herself half-way to an empty nest.

 

 

 

Kid Soup

I know, I know… The title makes me both cringe and smile in the same breath, but it's lodged into my slightly-twisted brain and won’t leave. Let’s just roll with it, eh? I’ll have you know, however, that there is some logic behind it (and no, nothing to do with the impending zombie apocalypse).

 

 

When my kiddos were little, we often read the old folk tale, Stone Soup, about a weary and hungry traveler with no means, who decides to prepare a meal by boiling a pot of water and tossing in a stone. Of course, this piques the curiosity of nearly every passer-by, who also toss in an ingredient—a carrot, a potato, an onion, etc.—until voila, a delicious soup is prepared. 

I’m a lot like that traveler. Not so much the hungry part unless you count today—day one (yet again) of mine and Paco’s latest diet—but the weary part, for sure. I seem to be continuously exhausted, and for the majority of any given day, I have one looming question on my mind: What-the-heck am I gonna make for dinner?

Although I’ve never considered starting with a rock, I have been known to toss in many’a random ingredient—each with its own unique, special, and sometimes unexpected flavor—to make a delicious soup or casserole for my gang. And somehow (for the most part) this hodge-podge of ingredients generally turns out pretty dang yummy.

And just as the weary traveler, Paco and I (the baker and the banker) have combined into our “pot,” a variety of personalities and characteristics—each unique, special, and some with an unexpected flavor or attribute—to make up this incredible blend of people we call our children.

Let me introduce them…

 

 

DETERMINATION came into my life 28 years ago and was the first of many to teach me about motherhood. Once a shy kid, he’s now a social rock star (when he wants) and in many respects an extension of me. “D” started writing his first novel at 16, and today has approximately eight finished manuscripts—two published, with another under review. He currently teaches junior high English, and will do so until the day his writing sustains him…which will be soon!

 

 

AMBITION arrived a year later and let my peaceful “D” know who was in charge. When she wanted something, she’d tackle it head on (in the early years, including “D” himself). Not only was “A” my earliest walker, she also taught herself how to ride a bike, do back handsprings, play the guitar, was the first to graduate from college and is now looking into grad school. Her strong will has served her well!

 

 

LOVELY is not only beautiful on the outside, but radiates that same loveliness within. Her kind and gentle heart serve her well in her own role as mommy. There's nothing that brings me more satisfaction as a mother than watching “L” mother her own boys—my grandsons. I can't help but beam inside at this sight.

 

 

STRENGTH is not only packed with muscles, but has a rock solid core, and I’m not referring to his physique, but rather his countenance or inner strength. He has competed internationally on the U.S. Junior Men’s Powerlifting Team, and can probably bench press a buffalo, but would tell you his greatest accomplishment is the two-year mission he’s currently serving. “S” is our gentle giant.

 

 

TALENT is oozing with abilities that never cease to amaze us all. He’s self-taught in both piano and art, and has honed his talent for acquiring requests from teenage girls desiring their portrait via his mad sketching skills. “T” has taken the art of flirting to a cultivated, whole new, and very literal level.

 

 

BELLISIMA (beauty) is my beautiful Peruvian rose. She came into my life as an 11-year-old and has literally blossomed before my eyes. As every rose (and every teenager), she can be as soft and delicate as a rose petal, but if not handled properly, the prick of a thorn might result. Most of all, “B” is strong—always able to withstand life’s storms as her roots grow deep and her limbs stretch far.

 

 

INTEGRITY radiates the qualities of honesty and moral principals. He is growing into a man of order and responsibility. “I” likes to be on time, and prepared—very much the boy scout that he is, but knows how to chill out and cut-loose when the mood strikes. He’s been known to have us all holding our gusts, laughing at the dinner table, and can do a pretty mean “worm” on any given dance floor.

 

 

CHARISMA is the spice of our great, big, integrated pot of kid soup. She is capable of being ten places at once, and charms, as well as entertains everyone simultaneously. “C” is proficient at maneuvering any given course of events into the direction she desires, so we believe inevitable success will be hers in a career in politics, Hollywood or both. Hey, if Arnold can do it…

 

 

And lastly, we add KINDNESS to the “pot”—our little dab of sweetness who’s always concerned with everyone and their feelings. The warmth of her hugs are healing, and the radiation of her smile, contagious; however, we were quick to discover that the combination of KINDNESS and CHARISMA could be a lethal duo.

 

 

There you have it—the baker and the banker’s kid soup via their prominent characteristics. I neglected to list some of their less-than-desirable personas—the screamer, the wall-puncher, the time bomb, the whiner, the crier, miss moody, etc… We’ll save these for another day…or not.

So if you're making your own kid soup, what would be the ingredients?

 

 

Tamra Torero is Wife to Paco, Momma to nine, Grandma of two, Bakery Manager, author of Shayla Witherwood: A Half-Faerie Tale and co-author of a Christmas novel, The Lost Son, with her son, Preston Norton. She absolutely adores her concoction of kid soup, but on a rainy day prefers clam chowder and a good book.

Where is your "Happy Place"?

I’ll be in my happy place…

This is my favorite phrase—especially at the end of a long day in the bakery when my feet are screaming to be soaked, or elevated, or massaged, or tranquilized,  and my brain is begging to shift into that passive “mush” mode—you know, that don’t-make-me-think-beyond-turning-a-page-or-channel state of mind.

Aaaahhh, the happy place… Mine is perhaps the most hideous looking, yet comfortable love seat known to mankind—an offering from a neighbor who said, “take it, puh-leeze—it’s yours!” This pillowy, happy place love seat is nestled in the corner of my bedroom next to a desk housing my dinosaur computer—the one not hooked up to the Internet to distract me. You see, not only do I often lay in a vegetative state in my happy place reading or watching my favorite collection of DVD’s (can you say, How many movie adaptations of Austen novels can the BBC possibly produce?), I also do all of my writing there.

 

 

So now that I’ve fessed up, and disappointed you all with the revelation of my true-to-life happy place, I’d like to know what you envision when you think of the words, “happy place.” It will likely be different for everyone, but we can all dream...

Soaking in a Jacuzzi, sipping a tall, cold, diet Coke (or insert your beverage of choice)? <Nodding>

 

 

Kicking back in a soft recliner watching the latest episode of, I dunno… Duck Dynasty or Downton Abbey perhaps? (Yes, please. Downton Abbey.)

 

 

Strolling through the park, slurping the sides of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream heaped into a waffle cone. (Uh, huh.)

 

 

Sitting behind the wheel of a red Ferrari, with no place to go and nuthin’ to do…but cruise the countryside? (Yup, yup…keep dreamin’!)

 

 

Lounging on a white sandy beach…in Maui…with your honey by your side? (Now we’re talkin’!)

 

 

Okay, maybe I got carried away. But most of us associate a happy place with an actual location. Well, I have a proposal…

Why don’t we make our Happy Place a state of mind? A feeling? Someplace we can go to no matter where in the world we are or what trials we may be experiencing.

When I make this mental shift, I can find my happy place in so many “locations” in my mind…and totally transform my physical and emotional state.

I can find my happy place…

…in the smell of my grandson hair.

 

Or the memory of my parents dancing.

I can be in my happy place whenever I'm by my sweetheart's side,

or surrounded by my children,

or watching them surrounded by theirs.

I can even find my happy place in times of uncertainty--times when life seems to flip me upside down--because with faith, and the knowledge that God is always by my side, I will eventually land on my feet. I always do.

So where is YOUR "Happy Place"?



Tamra Torero is Wife to Paco, Momma to nine, Grandma of two, Bakery Manager, author of Shayla Witherwood: A Half-Faerie Tale and co-author of a Christmas novel, The Lost Son, with her son, Preston Norton. She has discovered the hard (or perhaps all-to-easy) way that writing in her happy place can be less-than productive in the reclined position (yes, it's possible but not recommended) if you want to remain awake. Sometimes she doesn't.