Human

The Gift of Time

Posted on by Lauren

It’s a well-known fact that we have a tendency to over-correct.

I just wonder how many of us recognize when we are doing it. 

I did when it came time to create the annual “Gift of Time” envelopes for my girls. 

A few years ago, in an effort to guarantee one-on-one time with mom or dad, I gifted each girl a stack of 12 envelopes- one for each month. Inside, a card with an activity they could choose to do with just mom or dad- no sisters. 

We were drowning with the responsibility of caring for our health-challenged youngest, not to mention juggling four young kids. The Gift of Time ensured we got that one-on-one time with each daughter. 

But, year-after-year, it turned into expectation. 

When they opened the envelope and it was a trip to the library or a bike ride, instead of the bowling alley or putt-putt, they were crestfallen. 

I realized I was creating presumptuous monsters, instead of appreciated moments. 

So, I’ve paused. Reevaluating. 

Sure, I want that precious time but at what cost?

I spent my adulthood wishing I’d had a closer relationship with my mother, when I was a child. 

But what if my children rely too much on their parents to feel satiated?

Is it possible that I’m setting them up for failure? A childhood so idyllic, it’s difficult to replicate? Is that a crime?

I’ve parented long enough to become comfortable in the gray- the not knowing the next step. 

Instead of forcing my choice, I watch and wait. 

The Gift of Time. 

Nothingness

Posted on by Lauren

“Sit down, it’s Sunday.” My husband encouraged. 

“But if I do,” I explained “things won’t get done.”

“There’s always something to do.” 

I looked around at the smudges on the walls I’d been meaning to scrub, the tiny toys under the living room furniture and that dead moth that’s been trapped inside our family picture frame for literal years. 

I’d changed five sets of sheets, scrubbed two bathrooms and vacuumed but the list never ends.

One of my friends shared a photo of her rewriting worn recipe cards and I remarked, “How do you find the time?” She suggested that perhaps it was the two less kids.  

Maybe so. 

Or maybe I just need to slow down. 

Life in perpetual motion is never dull but also exhausting. 

Where’s the time to appreciate the exquisiteness of nothingness?

So I sat and ate my new box of girl scout cookies wondering all-the-while if that moth would fully decompose before I took the time to remove it. 

Maybe so. 

Clearly, I have more important nothingness to do. 

I captured this man soaking up the sunshine on my fortieth birthday trip to Savannah, GA. Perhaps I could learn a thing or two from him!

Aurora Mae Turns 12

Posted on by Lauren

12.

Here you are, baby girl. 

On the precipice of teenage-hood and totally not looking forward to it. 

I get it. 

You were 11 days overdue and never wanting to leave has been your MO. 

I have a recording of you crying about going to college when you were just 6 so it’s nothing new. 

You are a creature of comfort. 

Your bed, your hair, your charisma, the softest. 

In addition to a slew of Taylor Swift themed gifts, I also presented you with a copy of articles I’ve written in your honor over the last eight years. 

You wept in my arms over the article I wrote about my own mom, What I Want You to Know

Because you felt the same about me. 

And it dawned on me. 

Mothers and Daughters are forever. 

You may be 12, 

But we are forever. 

Camille Vaughan Photography – 2020 -all four girls tried on my wedding dress.

Badass

Posted on by Lauren

Everyone warned me of teenage daughters. 

Maybe they forgot that I used to be one. 

I’m not afraid of the road I’ve already traveled, 

Even if it looks different, these days. 

It’s hard, 

But our needs are the same. 

Recognition, empathy and encouragement. 

I love that my tweenage daughter appreciates music and novels. 

I love that my tweenage daughter cares about matters outside of herself.

I love my tweenage daughter’s courage and fearlessness. 

And yes, I love knowing I fostered that. 

She’s a badass. 

Holiday

Posted on by Lauren

“Do we need a holiday to celebrate motherhood and friendship?” she asked. 

Our friendship group had spent weeks back and forth, trying to find a date to connect.

“Not at all,” I explained “just a good excuse to force us to make plans!”

And here I am tonight.  

Six months since my last date with my husband. 

It seems silly to leave the house when we spend the majority of each day with one other.

Why pay a sitter and restaurant when we can cook at home for less?

But tonight, when we passed the new Wave Park development at the oceanfront, I gasped at the change. 

Then, we guffawed at a palm tree clearly reaching for the sunlight. 

I settled and exhaled. 

So this is what it was like to fall in love. 

17 years this May we bonded over beach volleyball and fish tacos at this very dive bar. 

I remembered. 

And I felt alive. 

No, we don’t need a holiday. 

But it sure is a good excuse to make plans. 

Matter

Posted on by Lauren

I am not a winning Coach.

The loss this weekend shattered me when, with good intention, my husband commented of the other team, “They were coached well.” 

They were. It was the God’s-to-honest truth. 

Their coach was intentional, level-minded and strategic. 

His girls performed to his expectations without much fanfare. 

Meanwhile, I’m looking my worst player in her eyes and telling her I see her. 

I see her insecurities, worry and anxiety. 

I know she doesn’t feel good enough and at the end of the day, I want her to feel, she’s more than good-enough. She’s her best. 

It’s me. 

I see me. 

I was never good enough and all I ever wanted was for someone to tell me I was.

I am not a winning coach. 

But to someone, I matter. 

They matter.

Listen

Posted on by Lauren

“You’re not LISTENING to me!” she exclaimed. 

The light switch went off. 

I remember feeling that way, too, when I was her age. 

Misunderstood.

Her father and I reviewed our game plan and saw no error. 

And yet, that’s the funny thing about plans. 

They’re just that. 

Plans. 

We had good intentions. 

But so is the path to hell. 

I showed my hands. 

“Ok.”  I said. 

“Really?” she replied, in disbelief. 

“Yea. We’re just here to support you.” 

And maybe that’s all we ever need to hear. 

Camille Vaughan Photography

Dangerous Woman

Posted on by Lauren

A dangerous woman.

“I’m not going to lie to you. It’s a little dangerous to live a life in which you do what you want to do, behave in a way that feels authentic, pay attention to things you find of interest, and direct your passions in any way you see fit. You are now a woman who can’t be controlled by mass media and consumer culture. Congratulations, sister.”- Karbo

A dangerous woman, indeed. 

It has taken my entire life and the help of this book to become the woman I am today, but I guess that’s the point. There’s no substitute for experience.

I’ve learned to let go of the woulda, coulda shouldas and instead, focus on the here and now. 

Instead of regret, I channel my energy into encouraging my daughters to embrace their unique selves, while still pursuing my own. 

I wake. 

Karbo, Karen. Yea, No. Not Happening. How I found Happiness Swearing Off Self Improvement and Saying F*ck it All- and How You Can Too. 2020.

Camille Vaughan Photography

Green Grass

Posted on by Lauren

Counting down the hours, I could not wait to leave. 

A break from cooking, boo-boos and bedtime. 

Time to eat where and when we wanted. 

Time to sleep in, time with my friend. 

We decorated, wined and dined. 

We puzzled, visited the spa and stayed up late to watch movies. 

It was everything I wanted and yet . . . 

Counting down the hours, I could not wait to leave. 

I missed my husband and children. 

The grass is always greener.