So many times...especially throughout the Holiday season...it is easy to think that our kids don't really 'get it.'
But then they casually toss us reminders that--yes--they do, indeed, 'get it.'
And they throw us a bone.
"Mom is so good at Christmas," Gabi said on Christmas morning. She proceeded to explain how she had sat in bed (from about 5:00am until about 8:00am--when Savannah agreed to get up) and pondered how that phenomenon had come to be. She came to the conclusion that during her (and her sister's) first few years on this planet she was less aware and; therefore, I was afforded time to "practice" and get the formula for providing an exceptional Christmas morning experience "down."
I was, obviously, moved by Gabi's recognition of the thought, effort, and heart that has gone into making every one of her 15 Christmases special. I needed the warmth of that memory two days later when she pouted and tried in every way she could contrive to torment me throughout our annual Nutcracker outing (which, by the way, they had BOTH asked for with much enthusiasm).
My girls do deserve 'props,' however, for indulging me in a Moving Out Movie Marathon on Savannah's last nite at home where they both sulked and fought and I ended up in the bathtub sobbing my mother-heart out at the end and the beginning that was happening whether or not I was ready for it.
Then, again, tonite, I texted Savannah for the second time to verify that her heart was still beating while it was in California with her boyfriend's family.
Rather than texting me back, she opted for calling. (Something I have a sneaking suspicion she may regret.) After we caught up on the minutiae of our days (and my dating life) I told her that she must call me later when she could speak freely about the beau's family.
To my delight, she concurred that she did -indeed- need to call me back when she could share with me the 411 on the boyfriend's family. It made my heart sing with delight to know that some things--whether flattering or not--can only be truly shared and understood with family.
I have surprised myself over the past year with my ability to let go and to accept the evolution of my daughters' burgeoning independence and maturity. And--in the spirit of Mary Poppins--those 'bones' so unexpectedly thrown my way from my beloved progeny, are the spoonfuls of sugar that make the medicine (of them growing up) go down...in a most delightful way!