blogger profile

Renee CK

writer, editor

I'm a fun girl who's on a quest to figure it all out. I'm cynical but living the dream- I'm not sure how that happened exactly. Follow along in my blog for fun, mayhem, and merriment. There's never a dull day!...

READ MORE

What's a Little Nail Polish?

The Zen of Parenthood

Tomorrow is Field Day at my kids’ school. So, today was the day for Muffins for Mom in my 5 1/2 year old daughter’s kindergarten class.  The kids went all out.  After we sipped on milk or punch and nibbled on mini muffins and doughnuts, the kids gave us hand, shoulder, and scalp massages and did our nails.  Oooh la la! 

My in-laws are snowbirds; they leave Michigan just before the first snowfall and head to their “manufactured home” in Florida. (Call it what you will, it’s a trailer.)  So, they come through our way twice a year.  Last year they timed it perfectly for us to have our Cinco de Mayo party. We rented a hotel for them and let the kids have a night out with Nannie and Poppa!  This year worked out well too. They came through just in time for Nannie to enjoy some pampering.  Because my daughter had 2 moms with her and a classmate’s mom wasn’t able to make it, I reminded my daughter that she can paint my nails anytime, so would she paint Nannie’s and allow her classmate to paint mine. We agreed, the girls both picked pink polishes, and we were off and running. 

The teacher put on some soft music, told us moms to close our eyes and find a happy place.  I kept mine opened and asked, “what if this is my happy place?”  I mean, really? What could be better than a 5 year old smearing pink polish all over your fingertips?  My mother-in-law had other ideas.  Being deaf, she doesn’t know how loud her voice is at times. She too-loudly complained on several occasions about the polish being too thick, on her cuticles, or that my daughter was painting in the wrong direction.

It’s all in our perception, isn’t it?  My adopted daughter went on to paint my tips white- are they perfect? Heck no!  Am I wearing them proudly? You bet!  In 10 years this will all be a distant memory and the girls will have nothing to do with us, forced by a teacher or not.  Could I have it done better?  Sure. 

When my daughter was an infant, in an exhausted state, I was venting about nursing every 3 hours, then having to pick up after my 3 year old son in whatever way that manifested itself- crayons on walls, trucks on the carpet, dirty feet and hands...the list was endless.  A woman in the group smiled with a knowing look in her eyes and told me to enjoy it.  Before long the house would be in order again, the kids would be quiet, too quiet sometimes, and predictability would return- this time not as welcomed or desired as before.  That was the day I stopped saying “I wish” in reference to things like crawling, eating solid foods, potty training, being able to ride a bike.  Instead I said “I look forward to”.  I enjoyed toothless grins, being able to put a baby down and have her be right where she was when I left her, having my son interrupt me while I talk because the wheel fell off his truck and he needed a mom to fix it.

Yes, my life will return to normal someday with it’s clean carpets, no fighting, and perfect manicures. I look forward to that, somewhat. But right now, in this moment, I am appreciating that my babies need me as much as I need them to paint my fingertips, and not just my nails.

Ciao!
CK