Time Took the Kids

My daughter Melissa is sad. Her maternity leave is over and she has to rejoin the workforce next week. My newest grandson is almost three months old, but has outgrown size “3 M” clothing, especially the footed kind. Melissa said that she had him dressed in tiny little jeans and a onsie and it made her cry.

She said “He looked like a little boy.”

I reminded her that he is, in fact, a little boy.

“But he’s growing so fast, he doesn’t look like a little baby anymore.”

And that… well, that reminded me that my babies are all grown up now. After we hung up the phone, it was my turn to cry.

I miss the wonderful times I had with my “kids” when they were little, so many memories. I don’t miss a lot of it, though. Really. I will admit it here and now, I’m not a huge fan of babies. Don’t get me wrong. I adored my own babies, and my grandbabies too. But…there are a lot of things about babies that I am happy to leave in the past. Diapers. Spit up. Crying. Colic. Lack of sleep. Wait…I still have that one.

Alex, my oldest, has passed the age that people growing up in my era would consider trustworthy. Anyone else remember that saying? “Don’t trust anyone over…” He’s married now, and has a daughter and son of his own. His kids are growing up faster than mine did, or at least it seems like that to me. They live far away, so we don’t get to see them as often as we would like. I can’t say much about the distance. After all, when my “big kids” were born, I was living in Venezuela. At least we can drive 15 or 16 hours and visit. My granddaughter will be starting first grade in the fall, her little brother will be in Kindergarten. Where does the time go?

It seems like just the other day that Melissa was my beautiful rambunctious little…well, to be honest, she was more than a handful. She was so cute, and she knew it, she was also sneaky and was very good at getting into mischief. She grew into an extremely responsible and remarkably wonderful woman. She is a good wife and a fantastically conscientious mommy. I am so very proud of her. (And for the record, I want to officially take back all the times I said “When you are a mother I hope your child gives you the same…” well, we all know how that saying goes. The person she is today does not deserve that kind of mischief from her offspring, so I hope she has only the best of motherhood. THAT is what she deserves.)

My youngest, Karina, was sick. Often. She has a couple of chronic things that she will deal with for the rest of her life and we spent much more time dealing with illnesses with her than the older two put together. I have a plethora of medical knowledge that I never wanted to have. We never allowed her to play the “oh poor me, I am sickly” game. We allowed, no, we encouraged her to take part in any activity she wanted to try. There were times that she physically was unable to do things that she wanted to, so she had to quit. Extreme anemia stopped her softball days, repeatedly sprained ankles stopped dance lessons, and severe mono pulled her out of school for much of her freshman year of high school. But she is now a confident independent young woman. She just finished her first year of college with a very high GPA, and is about to go on a great adventure…chasing her dreams.

Next week that cute little baby, who looks like a little boy, will be baptized. He is starting to play more, grasping at toys, kicking a foot-activated baby music toy. Melissa told me that he loves it when she reads to him and tries to play with the books. I am glad that he likes books. It is fitting…and genetic.

But time really is going by too fast. Babies grow up too soon. I love who my “kids” are today, but I miss them as little kids.

Writing Circles

Earlier this year, I started a new writing group at one of the libraries where I work. I called it Writers’ Circle, but that was only going to be the name until the group decided on a new, original name. We came up with several really good names, but somehow, Writers’ Circle stuck.

It works. We sit in a circle…well, square really. We start with generalized life-sharing, read whatever piece/s of writing we will discuss, discuss it, and we come back around to generalized life-sharing as we prepare to head our separate ways.

Writing is a circular activity. You get an idea. It spins around in your head. You capture it on paper – or in a computer or other device. You read it. You re-write it. You re-write it again, as many times as it takes, until you are satisfied with it. You get an idea…

It is important for writers to have a safe place to spend time with other writers. It doesn’t matter if the writers in your group don’t write exactly the same kind of thing that you do. What matters is that they have a writer’s mind and soul. Writers are a special breed. If they are surrounded by non-writers, they can become frustrated and without the moral support that can only come from other writers, they could give up.

I have belonged to a variety of writing groups over the years. The first one was back in ninth grade. Two of my friends and I named our group “Pen, Paper, Pencil” or some variation of those three words. I don’t remember the exact order; it’s been a while since I was in ninth grade. Not too long ago, I found ALL of the stories we wrote. I don’t remember why I was chosen to keep them, and it is a miracle that they are still with me after almost four decades, especially considering that I lived overseas for all of the 1980s. I still have frequent contact with one of those friends. I need to reconnect to the other one, too.

The next writing group I was a part of met once a month in my neighbor’s house. I attended when I could, but when I got a full time job I had to miss many meetings. It has been a few years since I was able to go, but I will always feel that I am a member of the “Word Weavers” group. I had the chance to catch up with two other members a few weekends ago at a writing conference.

For a short time I attended another writing group that met at a library. It met at a time that was convenient for my work schedule, and occasionally I was able to go on a lunch break. I don’t remember if it had an official name, but after I moved away I had to stop going.

In my new hometown, I found a wonderful writing group at my local library. I am still a member and attend meetings when I don’t have to work during their scheduled sessions. (I have to work many evenings with my new job.) I will forever be thankful for this group. They are the first friends I made in my new town, and they truly made me feel welcome.

My newest group is the one I first mentioned. We meet every Tuesday evening. There are some people who are able to attend all of the meetings, some every other week, and others who can only be there once in a while. I am truly fortunate to have this group. The group provides solid support for its members. More experienced writers are able to offer constructive critique to newer writers, and the newer writers offer fresh energy and inspiration to us all.

It is wonderful to have so many writer friends, some I connect with online. The internet, email, and social media make it easier to maintain long distance friendships.

I will need to use old fashioned communication to reconnect to that one member of my first writing group. I haven’t seen her in a few years, but I have her address. I need to write to her. I think we should get the old group back together, probably not for the sake of writing…but for the sake of our friendship. 

After all, friendship is also a circle.