Woman ...

I'm officially a woman. 

Well...I guess that actually happened for me the summer of 1996, but then I just felt like a confused girl. I'm a woman now...I can prove it.

 I bought yellow rubber gloves the other day at Target and they have transformed my cleaning experience. My mom always had some, I wasn't really sure why. Now I know. Water can basically be so hot it doesn't have a temperature...yet I don't feel a thing. Wet rag? I no longer cringe when I pick it up to wring it out. Scrubbing? I can scrub 10 times as hard now. Rubber gloves hanging over my kitchen sink are a sure sign I have crossed the adult threshold.

 We've been watching The Voice on Monday nights and every time a contestant sings anything Fleetwood Mac or Creedance the judges will say "wow, you have such an old soul." Well, since that's basically the only genre of music that i know by heart, I now know what to call myself. Plus I have the rubber gloves, and I've taken up quilting. And no, not the modern day "everything matching" kind of quilt - the crazy variety. The old t shirts and dresses cut up into scraps, backed in a sheet from my closet.  I think that's pretty much "old soul." I'll also add in here that I prefer the company of almost anyone that is about 15 years older then me. Like I said before, officially woman.

 I've started hanging up my Christmas cards. Woman. 

If Pandora isn't playing James Taylor, it's on old hymns, Allison Krauss, or bluegrass. I also have a small obsession with snow globes and anything "miniature " - proof of my growing womanhood. Don't even get me started on dishtowels, mason jars, or comfy socks.

I have actual Christmas plates, tin cans, and glasses. 

Showing my age...all 31 years of me. 

My style is my own now and I'm completely unashamed. See that bear necklace? That's an amazing piece from New Mexico, circa 1998 from my mom. I love it now. When I was a teenager I wouldn't be caught dead in a  bear necklace. 

Growing confidence, accepting who I am...woman.

(grey hair and laugh lines? Check and check)

I'm responsible for pulling off holidays for other people - woman.

P.S. Thanks mom for all those "carefree" holidays everyone had except you. I get it now.

I have a cast iron skillet and have learned the art of seasoning it and actually using it. I don't follow recipes...they are all in the ol' thinker. Saving a buck is one of my biggest passions except when it comes to helping poor people...then my heart is generally bigger then my wallet and I cry. Woman.

As the rest of the family snacks on cocoa and has grilled cheese I drink peppermint tea and eat my veggies. That's because I'm a woman and supposedly need to be healthy in order to take care of my peeps ~ just one more little "notch" in my woman belt.

I assemble the tree, wrap the ribbon...get hooks in ornaments before little kids can enter and decorate. Then, way after they are done and I've "oohed" and "ahhed" at their work, I rearrange. 

I buy all the presents, wrap all the presents (happily mind you) because I'm the mama and am responsible for wishes coming true. I hang the stockings and stuff them. I guess santa could possibly be a woman? I set up the nativity scene and through my story telling help my children to fall in love with little baby Jesus. My heart melts when they do ... probably because I'm a woman.

I look at calenders and cross out days and it hits me that time is going by too fast. My eyes grow rather misty when I look at baby pictures - a clear sign I'm all grown up. I sneak into the littles' rooms some nights just to look at their faces and smell their hair. I make them pose for the 19th time that day so I can document every snippet of their changing journey. I'm a woman ... I create the memories and then keep them for everyone. I feed the growing bodies then mark down their heights on the wall. I buy the clothes and then pack them up for the next kid in line. Sometimes I become a blubbering idiot when I do this...that's because I'm a mom.

 I go now to make a cup of tea, put on an episode of the Waltons and start folding my fourth load of laundry today. I love being a woman. What I love most about my womanhood is the opportunity to  be a mother. 

Someone told me yesterday that they never wanted a child but then they got one by surprise. They love the baby but through the conversation it was clear to me that the little boy is an inconvenience. I was inspired to look at my own kids, my own "duties" and to remember that they are pleasures. They are gifts and they have made me a who I am. Almost everything good that is in me I attribute to them. Service, love, kindness...pouring myself into beautiful things and beautiful people is fulfilling when I can look at it as a whole picture. Chapters can be rough...consuming and terrifying, sometime dull - often so exciting you can't close the book. It's the story that matters...the last sentence that brings everything to a "wrap." 

Clean dishes or dirty dishes, crafts laying around...kids laughing and sometimes crying...that's a home. All of it makes something great. All of it has created something great in me. I think it's called "purpose." 

Yah, I love being a woman.

“As usual, there is a great woman behind every idiot.” 
― John Lennon

“Above all, be the heroine of your life, not the victim.” 
― Nora Ephron

“What would men be without women? Scarce, sir...mighty scarce.” 
― Mark Twain

“No occupation in this world is more trying to soul and body than the care of young children. What patience and wisdom, skill and unlimited love it calls for. God gave the work to mothers and furnished them for it, and they cannot shirk it and be guiltless.” 
― Isabella MacDonald Alden

“I believe that a godly home is a foretaste of heaven. Our homes, imperfect as they are, must be a haven from the chaos outside. They should be a reflection of our eternal home, where troubled souls find peace, weary hearts find rest, hungry bodies find refreshment, lonely pilgrims find communion, and wounded spirits find compassion.” 
― Jani Ortlund