Who Killed JR? His toddler who refused to sleep!

Flashback to 1983. My parents are watching Dallas in the basement with their friends. I’m at the top of the stairs, trying not to squeak the steps, hunched in a nightgown with my knees pulled tight. Of course my mom sees me and yep, she is upset. Despite her frustration she lets me sit on the floor  and join them in watching the number one show of 1983.600x600bb-85

My mom had to do this a lot–put up with a kid who was awake until all hours of the night. Usually it was just the two of us. She’d let me watch Love Boat on the tiny black and white TV in our kitchen while she made popcorn. Initially she would be exasperated (Of COURSE she was, adult Sarah gets it now!) but she always softened and lovingly let me join her in her late night routine.

Let me write it out right here in case my prayers haven’t reached my mother: MOM I AM SO SORRY FOR WHAT I PUT YOU THROUGH. MOM HOW DID YOU DO IT. MOM YOU POOR WOMAN YOU NEVER. GOT. A. BREAK!

Why the mea culpas? Because now I’m in her shoes. My almost-four-year-old is having what I jokingly refer to as the “four-year sleep regression.” She is awake approximately 99.98% of our waking hours. No break from the kid. No down time. And let me tell you, as an introvert this is so hard.

How am I responding to it all? I’m trying to model my mom’s love. (She still teaches me. When people say love never dies, that it extends forever, this is what they mean.) Lately I’m following her lead as much as I can. Like her, I’m surrendering to the fact that my kiddo won’t sleep and there isn’t much I can do about that fact. I might as well make some popcorn for her while she sits on the floor to join in watching Jane the Virgin.

I have a feeling she may someday look back fondly on these moments. I have a hunch I just might, too.


Did you interrupt your parents’ Dallas parties? Share here or on Facebook, Twitter or Instagram.

 

To dust bunnies and mismatched stemware!

Today is party day!

As I have written before, I have been working on building a village. I am new to my neighborhood, my state (Florida), to parenthood, to all of it. It’s taking time but I’m happy to say that slowly, ever so slowly, we are finding community.

I am pretty sure my (deceased) mother is the one who put a bug in my ear that, hey, you should have a bbq/potluck! She even reminded me about the favorite sangria recipe of mine that she loved.

(Yes, I take party planning advice from my dead mother. Trust me, you would too if you had my mother at your disposal. She was a master party planner. Lots of lists, sometimes party themes (but never tacky or cheesy–just fun), and always a great spread of food.)

A lot has been written about the carefree moms of the 1980s. I would love to try to capture the fun, laid back spirit of the parties my parents had, even if just a teeny bit.

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My awesome 1980s mom. That is me, eyeing a very non-pinteresty sort of cake.

This is harder than you would think. Last night my husband and I were shopping at Target to get some last minute items, and he said, “You know what we need? A shiny copper bucket to put ice in with all the drinks!”

They had them but they were kind of expensive. But then I turned to him and said, wait a minute. We don’t need this damn thing! You know what Keith and Diane would have used? A crummy old cooler that they pulled out of the garage and hosed down! 

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Keith and Diane’s favorite beverage container. Try it, it works great!

When your husband, the man who has zero design sense, starts suggesting fancy copper bins to put ice and drinks into, you know you have found yourself squarely in the Pinterest-generation.

So guess what we will be using: a crummy old cooler from the garage. That’s right, there will be nothing instagrammable or pinterstery about this party.

[Disclosure: love me some Pinterest. Love being creative, love having fun craft ideas…but sometimes you just need to chill the heck out ammiright?]

Today I raise a glass to carefree, no hassle parties. To good-enough. To dust bunnies and mismatched stemware! To friends!

I’d write more but that lime kool-aid isn’t going to make itself.

p.s. This week I have been writing about my journey of healing that came after a period of loss, and more loss, and more loss. I will pick up the series next Monday because today, my friends, is party day!


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