With each of my two children, both girls, I have experienced dozens of corner-turning moments, lots of times when we were certainly crossing thresholds that held bittersweet significance.  And as crucial as each moment felt while we were in it, each of them in fact passed and moved us onward toward another bigger milestone, another dose of pain and pleasure. 

   Some occurred simultaneously for both girls; others shine in my memory just for one sister or the other.  And I am well aware that as grown as they seem today at 15 and 13, still more growth is in store and more separations and reunions loom in the future.  Still many more thousands of miles are left in their life journeys. 

  That is perhaps the strongest evidence that growth has happened:  I can now better separate my need to be close to them from their need just to live their lives as separate, unique human beings.

 

  Infancy held a dozen revelations every hour.  I loved becoming acquainted with their tiny, beautiful faces, that sweet baby fragrance, their miraculous sounds and overall delicacy.  Learning how to soothe them, following the swell of breast milk, and drifting into the bizarre sleep patterns of those first weeks of life were joyful if mysterious times. 

   Returning to work after six weeks of maternity leave, though, that really got my attention.  I had certainly never hurt so badly before and thought I would never hurt so badly again. 

   I cried hot, vicious tears on my drive from daycare to office, and not just that first day.  It happened on lots of morning drives.  And again when Preschool and Kindergarten started.  Oh, and Middle School.  Oh, and even present day, every single time I drop them off after spending an amazing day together.

   A gentle note to new parents: 
Even if you think today has brought you the hardest lesson,

It gets worse. 

Today is AWESOME
compared to what tomorrow might be.
Enjoy it for all it’s worth.

  

    Seeing each of the girls walk independently for the first time, both toward me and away from me, those moments convinced me that life was speeding by too fast.  I had no idea that in about five or six minutes I would be enrolling my oldest in summertime Driver’s Ed.

   Realizing they no longer needed me to wash their hair at bath time, that stung a little.  It took a long time for me to appreciate the additional free time in the evenings, but I have to admit it is wonderful to have taught them little things like that, to know they care about themselves as young ladies and can take care of themselves.  Now I look forward to maybe washing a grandchild’s hair one day. 

   When I noticed that conversations about boys had begun to electrically charge the air, I saw my chickens differently. 

   When my youngest tried on swimsuits one spring and I felt that salty pang of protectiveness, “Don’t anybody look at her!!!” I knew things were changing again.

 

   Am I the only dorky mom who felt nostalgic when her kids perfected cursive?  When this happened in our home, I was in shock.  Like everything else, it seemed like only yesterday that we were practicing their crayon-grinding ABC’s.

    I knew I was losing my place of authority and guidance in their life when they started telling me about their plans instead of asking me what would be alright, what the family had going on.  And the tone of voice that comes with that shift in power is something a mother cannot forget or ignore.  I am so happy to have lots of video recordings of more innocent times to remind me that there were many years rich with laughter and trust and joy that preceded this darkness.

Look at her tough expression.  Rebel.  xoxoxo

   As a kid I didn’t watch all that much television, at least not by today’s standards.  My Mom was vigilant about keeping us from becoming video zombies.  She trained us to look at the paper TV guide every week and mark what shows looked good to us, what shows were worth the expense of time and daylight.  Remember when you had to watch shows pretty much right when they were aired?  No DVR in the 1980s, man.  And taping shows to VHS rarely happened.  It required great electronics skill, a massive coordination of hours and minutes, and relatively expensive tapes.

   I cannot remember exactly, but it seems like we were allowed an hour or so per week.  We might have been allotted more time in front of the tube when school was out; I can’t remember.

   The funny thing is, even though I sometimes complained, that really seemed like more than enough time.  I was way busier playing outside, learning how to do penny drops from the metal swing set frame, perfecting round offs and attempting handsprings, riding banana-seat bikes, and of course having those all-important crushes on boys who were too old for me… 

   Television was more of a family affair in our home than an isolating activity, something that with time and distance I see was unique.  For this and so many other reasons, I am grateful to my parents.  They trained me to use TV as a respite at the end of a full week, not the backdrop of my life and certainly not the focus of any day.

   Having said all of that, I did grow up having some fave shows that would be ever so great to see again!  Beyond syndication, beyond rebooting, just more of the good stuff.

I Dream of Jeannie.  I wanted a secret room like her plush genie bottle soooo badly…  And I liked Major Healey okay, but oh my goodness, why in the world did she have to keep messing things up with Major Nelson???  What a romance!  What a fantasy to have that kind of power and beauty.

Fantasy Island.  “Boss, de plane!  De plane!”  Speaking of fantasies, this show sent my preadolescent mind into high gear.  What a fascinating thing to glimpse into what people believe will solve their problems versus what truth already lies within their own grasp.  And when I first stepped onto the grounds of a Mexico resort on my honeymoon with Handsome, I felt like Mr. Roarke might emerge at any moment.  Yes, new episodes of Fantasy Island would be a cool thing.



Dukes of Hazzard.  I would love, love, love a comeback TV show of the Duke family and their misadventures, not just a lame movie starring all the wrong people.  Gyoog, gyoog, gyoog!

Reading Rainbow.  Oh stop it…  Don’t judge me.  You know this show was impossible to ignore.  It was a quiet time standby for my thousands of babysitting victims.  Err, clients? 

  



The Cosby Show.  What television parents had more wisdom and love to share than the Huxtables?  Not even Aunt Bea in Mayberry, I am convinced of it.  “Come here.  Come here, come here, come here!”  And Lisa Bonet’s character was a major style influence on my life, even though it took me years to share that with people.



   So there you have it.  The top five shows for which I would happily sacrifice all past, present, and future episodes of reality television and extreme making over in order to watch new again.  If any of you are fancy-pants enough in the entertainment world to make this happen, I will bake you cookies once a week for the rest of my life.  Just don’t tell my Mom how much time I spend watching it all.