Next Time I'm Staying Home and Sending the Credit Card

The girls came in from a run loudly declaring they needed new sports bras and running shoes.  The running shoes I believed (I think SK was still wearing hers from middle school and Caroline was wearing mine.)  I semi-doubted the sports bras until they took off their jerseys and showed me the well, lack of support these had. So Saturday came and full of fear and trembling I said, "Let's go bra shopping."

To be fair Caroline has been asking me to go bra shopping for months.  But I HATE bra shopping and I was already imagining what bra shopping would be like with my outspoken, lack of filter, 14 year old. (Yes I'm a wimp; last time she needed new bras I sent her with SK and my credit card--IT WAS TOTALLY WORTH IT!!!)  Perhaps I should have repeated that decision....

We walked into Target (Target on a Saturday--first mistake).  I herded them past the bathing suits and to the sports bra section.  SK seemed to be okay on her own so I said, "Caroline let's go look at the regular bras.  You only need one sports bra.  You have some that will work."  As we rounded the corner I quietly (emphasis on quietly) said, "We need to find a couple and go try them on because different styles fit differently."  "TRY THEM ON?!?!?!  I'M NOT TRYING THEM ON--THAT'S LIKE SHARING BOOBS WITH SOMEONE."  What does that even mean?  I didn't dare ask--instead I tried to reason with her--"Mama, you have lost your mind if you think I'm going to put my naked boobs on a bra that someone else has put on their naked boobs."  (I did not point out that any bra we bought could very well have been tried on by someone else....)

I looked up--relief flooded over me--back up troops were heading towards me.  Desi to the rescue. I didn't even care that she began the conversation with , "I could hear y'all clear across the store." "Desi," I pleaded with my eyes and tried to sound authoritative with my voice, "Don't you have to try on bras before you buy them."  Desi, "I don't."  Are you kidding me?!?!?  Did she miss my pleading eyes?  "But, but but," I sputtered, "What if you get them home and they don't fit?"  "You just have to buy new ones." says the single woman with NO CHILDREN TO EDUCATE.  "We're not doing that," I said as I tried to regain my maternal control (that I think I lost years ago).  Meanwhile Caroline is smiling sweetly at Desi.

Apparently Desi noticed my distress because she said, "Well you should try them on but you could do it over your clothes."  (Those words would come back to haunt us.)  I turned to Caroline who was on my right while Desi remained on my left--positioning that would become important, and said, "I think you're probably a 38 C; why don't you try to find some."  Caroline, "Why do you think that?" "Well because I'm a B and..."  I was cut off by loud uncontrollable laughter--seriously it was like a surround sound of humiliation--Desi, "Are you kidding me?  You want to be a B."  Caroline trying to speak through her hysteria, "You're a wanna be B."  "Just go find some bras."  (now that's a good come back...)

Just as Caroline was returning with a couple of choices, SK reappeared.  After hugging Desi, she looked at Caroline--"Who are you?  You cannot get that color--that is totally trashy."  (I think what she said was a little bit different but even I have some limits and would rather not repeat it...)  "Come on," she said, "I'll help you."  Flooded with relief that she was taking over I let the language go...

They returned with a few choices.  "Caroline, I am not buying bras without you trying them on.  It's my money."  (Yep, I desperately pulled out the only card I have--the wallet)  "Fine," she said, "I'll try them on."  I momentarily looked down--my head snapped up when I heard Desi screech, "She's trying them on right here.  Caroline, that's what old ladies do."  (Or Caroline I thought--told you those words of Desi's would come back to haunt us)  We finally settled on two and I sent her to find a sports bra.  "I'll see you tonight," I said to Desi, "And make sure you have plenty to drink--I may need to start now."

I decided to let Caroline pick out her own sports bra; seriously, I needed a break. How bad could it be? SK and I started walking off to finish our list--as we were walking she says, "Aren't these the ugliest bras you've ever seen?"  "Why didn't you get different colors?" I naively asked her.  "They don't make this size in good colors--this is the size old ladies wear and they don't care what they look like--or nursing mothers who are just going to throw them out anyway, or me."  I had to stop pushing the cart I was laughing so uncontrollably.."tell me I'm lying--you know it's true."  (Did I mention NONE of us speak in hushed tones EVER!!)

We kept walking and ran into just about everyone in the world we knew (and who now probably know all of our bra sizes).  Really wish I had run into one precious young man earlier--his first words to me, "Mother Katherine you all are too loud."  Amen love, amen. His mother tried to tell him that wasn't nice to say. "But you are so right," I told him thinking "I really wish we'd run into you about 30 minutes ago..."

I'd like to say that ended my humiliating shopping trip to Target, but alas I'd be lying...next time I'm just sending the credit card.  And we still have shoes to buy....

I Love My Kids-We did something right--don't know how

Just in case anyone is wondering--I didn't just become neurotic.  In fact, if anyone wants to commiserate with Chris I've been neurotic since the very beginning--and he still married me!!!  Just a quick recap--when we got married a well known (internationally known) reproductive endocrinologist told us we couldn't have children.  (He still can't believe it, but my daddy shows him pictures...)  Well, in case you've missed it--we had four in 4 1/2 years--so I guess he was wrong--or God has a whole other plan...

Well, hearing that news makes you crazy--but we got pregnant with SK fairly easily and not trying--we were a little surprised (read TOTALLY SHOCKED) and then I miscarried (a story for another blog).  We then had Christopher and I knew I wasn't done. Chris, my wonderful amazing completely supportive (emotionally and financially) husband was not quite as certain. Well, I started lobbying--and here comes the crazy me...

I started telling him about how we had to have another child.  I'm going to admit right here this is painful and an awful argument especially since I have friends who have fallen into this category, but I used as a reason to have another child that if one child died I didn't want the other to be alone--I thought they should have multiple siblings for support.  He didn't necessarily buy it, but we have two more children (Caroline will explain she is one of the  99% birth control failure rates--yes she told ALL of Collegiate 8th grade).

It's been hard; it's been financially difficult-emotionally, physically and all the other things difficult but it's also been absolutely the most life giving wonderful experience of our lives.  (An Example)

So tonight some of my neurosis has come to a positive place--I said to Boss, "I can't wait to get SK home tomorrow but I know it might be hard for you; you've been the oldest for a year.  It will be different; we have to get ready for that. Y'all might fight more than usual."  Boss, "Mama, I just want her home.  I need her home."

And then later--after SK finished her final exam of her first year (and can I just say she's Dean's list for the whole freaking year--yes I'm shouting it silently from the rooftops because she wouldn't want me to tell anyone, but I am so incredibly proud and it wasn't easy--she worked for it--) Caroline sat in the kitchen with the phone on her knee speaker on with SK and they were talking about the next few weeks.  She told her how she might go to prom with someone who might not have a date.  Boss came in from playing basketball and told us all about playing and the people who were there.  William slipped through telling us about prom dinner plans.  It was as if nothing major had happened.  As if we haven't been separated. As if this was just another night at the Doyle's.  But it's not.  We have already started the separating--we have already had one year of one of us being apart from the others and the next three years will go far too fast for me.  But for now, well for now--tomorrow I leave to get SK, and SK is connected to the others--to the ones we know as Boss, Willie Wonka, and Carolina--to the multiple siblings--to the people who make us all complete. Connected to the people who love the most regardless of dean's list, athletic awards or anything else. None of that matters we are connected just because we are family-- Tomorrow we're all together--for better or worse--as a unit--completing one another--the O'Doyle's.

I know one day they will go their separate ways, but for now we are the O'Doyle's and we did something right.

We Don't Play Board Games

Okay, I admit it; sometimes I want to be the family I picture in my mind--the slightly crazy imaginative mind.  You know the kind of family that sits around the table playing board games, drinking

This sort of looks like poker...just sayin'

lemonade and singing kumaya--you know that sweet Doyle family that smiles at one another adoringly as we patiently wait our turn. That's in my mind; we don't play many board games, (we tried when we were first married, but I may have turned over the scrabble board when I started to lose...), but I do like games, sooooo--I sometimes play manipulative games....

Last night I walked into the den where Chris and William were sitting and asked, "Okay it's been two days.  What do you notice?"  Two days ago I got my haircut (after 10 weeks of not having it cut) and then yesterday I picked up new glasses.  I really thought that would be the dead giveaway since just that morning Chris had asked me what checks I had written and I reported on the one I had written, "For the eye doctor."

They looked back and forth at each other with that look that says, "We better get this right, but we are SOOOO being set up."  I could also see their minds racing realizing they were also now in competition with one another. William hesitantly asked, "Uh, did you get a hair cut?" (See he knows how to play this game--this may not be the first time we've played it.....)  "YES! Two days ago." William looked over at Chris like, "Yeah, dude I got this one.  Ante up ponyboy!"

"I also got new glasses today." I smugly announced.  Chris trying to regain his position of man of the house who knows how to deal with women (or at least the crazy woman he married) said, "Well you have to admit the hair isn't that different, and aren't those glasses just like the ones you've had before?"  "No," I responded, "These are tortoise shell."  "So were the others," he mistakenly shot back.  "No," I said, "Those were darker." Chris decided to pull out all the stops, get out of his comfortable chair and walk over to me acting like he was gazing at the new me.  It was starting to work--but oh no--"Yes those glasses are the same.  They look just like wayfarers which you had before."  (So I guess we should give him credit for knowing what I had before, but these were clearly not wayfarers....)

He looked closely and said, "You're right and that shape is perfect for you."  He confidently walked (read strutted) back to his chair looked over at William and said, "That was pretty good wasn't it?" William looked up at me probably thinking, "Seriously what sin have I committed or will I commit that made God give me to these two lunatics?"  He looked back at Chris and said, "Nah, I think you're still in the doghouse for at least a week."  (I think he had decided he was folding his hand recognizing there was no way he was even still in the game--now he was just relishing in Chris losing.)

Chris, determined to win, gave it one last try, "See the reason we didn't notice was because your inner beauty so outshines your outer beauty--which you of course have--but the inner beauty of your heart and soul blinds us to the outer beauty."  William's jaw dropped in total amazement-- Chris looked over at him and said, "Well?"  "Yeah," William responded clearly blown away (by hot air?), "That was good."

I smiled as I turned to go to bed knowing that really I had won....as I left I heard Chris say to William, "I've still got it.  Take lessons about the ladies from me."

Just another night with the O'Doyles--we don't play board games....




Disclaimer--we all laughed throughout--it was all in fun....

I Am the Piggly Wiggly Mama

The other day I was stomping around and pouting about my lack of a clean and orderly house--I wrote about it--I Want to Be.  What I didn't write about was--well read on.....

I started thinking about how I would have NEVER left my room any way except immaculate.  I was TERRIFIED of my mother.  That petite woman could look at me, her eyelids would flutter, and I would freeze shaking in place wanting to take cover but knowing any movement would be seen as disrespect..I have no idea what I thought she would do, but I knew I didn't want to find out! (I was so terrified of her that years later when I was in a store pushing a stroller with MY two children in it I froze when I forgot to say "yes m'am" when she asked me something.  I quickly corrected myself--yep she had that kind of power.)

As I entered the bathroom I thought, I had to clean my bathroom every morning before I left for school--full out--comet the sink, glass plus the mirror, wipe up the floor--every single morning. (In college I did this everyday when I lived in an apartment with my good friends.  About half way through the year I walked in on them laughing about it.  "Why didn't y'all tell me it was weird to do that?"  Their response, "Why would we do that?  You're cleaning our bathroom every day."  Well, I thought they were my good friends....)  My children's bathrooms have spit in the sink, things left out all over, mugs next to the tub, but there are no towels on the floor because they're in their bedrooms on the floor.

Back into their bedrooms I went stepping over the clothes on the floor (dirty? clean?  Who knows but I'm pretty sure they'll wind up in the hamper instead of being put away.)  The sheets and blankets were either crumpled on their beds or also on the floor--no army inspection for them.  (My friend Lynn is still traumatized by the time she was sitting on my bed when my mother walked in--we were not allowed to sit on our beds ever!!!)  There were dirty dishes on bedside tables--multiple dirty dishes--I humphed.  How many times have I told them not to eat in their rooms or at least if they do to please bring them down?  Clearly not enough times...

In my displeasure I sent them texts hoping the texts would send terror coarsing through their bodies. Based on their responses--I didn't think they did.  (Based on the fact the same towels and dishes were still there two days later, I'm sure they didn't.)









The next morning, (the morning after my stomping and pouting) I walked into the kitchen after the children left for school.  OH NO!!! My piggly wiggly mug was sitting on the counter BROKEN!!  Who had done that?!?!?! (Caroline was safe; she was still upstairs sick in bed.) I sent the boys a text...



T

That evening all three were in the kitchen--I walked in; Boss froze and tried to hide the peanut butter jar behind his back. "Mama, I'm sorry...I couldn't find the other peanut butter.  I just took one scoop.  I'm really sorry."  (I have been known to hide piggly wiggly peanut butter in my room....I'm not good at sharing.) Just then Caroline looked down, "Who broke Mama's piggly wiggly mug?"  Me, "William did."  Caroline looked over at William silently willing him to make a run for it, "Are you crazy?!?!?! You admitted it?!?!?!"  William, "Not until I was gone."
(Who said that boy wasn't smart?) All three looked back at me and remained frozen in place, shaking but not daring to make a move....

I smiled; finally--finally I found a way to terrorize my children.  And then I started to laugh as I thought about the absurdity of the situation.  This is how I terrorize my children--not over neurotic housecleaning--over Piggly Wiggly merchandise, and then I thought, I wouldn't want it any other way.  This is Growing Up Doyle at its finest--Growing Up Doyle with a Piggly Wiggly Mama (in a house that could be mistaken for a pig's sty!)

When You Think About Marriage--A Letter to the O'Doyles

Dear O'Doyles,

I was walking by myself on the beach yesterday and started thinking--maybe it's because I won't have you all for Easter.  Maybe it's because we let Caroline go to New York with her friend (no you may

not have my debit card number--good try!) and Boss go to the beach with his girlfriend.  Seriously, what were we thinking?  Daddy even said, "I don't know about this."  I said, "My parents always let me bring my boyfriend to the beach."  To which he replied, "Well clearly there's something wrong with them."  Then I reminded him he also took his girlfriend to the beach--which is an hysterical story but one I can't tell.  I can bring home a stray dog, run up credit card bills and he won't divorce me, but I'm pretty sure if I made that story public I'd be served by Monday morning----anyway, y'all aren't all here, my heart hurts, but I know it's normal and you're growing up.

So I was walking and I remembered sitting at the dinner table one night in Lynchburg when Daddy was out of town.  Babah was with us.  SK was in 3rd grade and she asked, "Mama, would you rather me marry someone of a different race or a different religion?"  I thought to myself, "I'd rather have another glass of wine--"  She added, "And you have to choose one."  (She knew I was going to try to weasel out...)  Four pairs of eyes were intently looking at me waiting for me to impart my wisdom (that was back when y'all thought I knew everything), I swallowed hard and answered as honestly as I could. Daddy and I have always promised we'd answer any question you asked as honestly as we could--(there were some that were real doozies--remember William and the sex ones?)  "Well, first I want you to marry someone you love, but here's the thing--our faith has seen Daddy and I through a lot. Without our shared faith I don't know how we would have gotten through some of the medical issues we've had, the moves (I didn't add financial strain--you were too young, but I'll add that now). I always knew Daddy prayed about things and he knew I did.  We knew we each made decisions based on a faith we shared, so I guess I have to choose religion."

Y'all now know it's WAAAAAY more complicated than that, but I still believe our shared faith has seen us through and continues to see us through, but yesterday as I was walking I thought I need to add some more to my answer.  (I am not saying I want you to get married anytime soon despite the fact I send SK pictures of reception sites....) Here's what I want to add.  Marry someone who adores you--marry someone you adore; marry someone who makes you want to be as good of a person as they already believe you are, and make sure you marry someone who shares your priorities for life whatever they are. For us it's been education and family. You know the sacrifices we make for your education--Daddy in particular.  He's worked hard and gone without for himself.  I'm not saying it to make you feel guilty--y'all have always been appreciative, I'm just telling you that if we didn't agree--well we'd need that faith for sure because the financial strain would be--let's not think about it.

And family--last week Daddy knew I needed to see my sister, so regardless of the fact he'd been traveling nonstop for weeks, he never said a word.  (That is not to say you're marriages don't have to come first, and we try to make ours a priority) But what I really thought about yesterday was Daddy

driving to C'ville to get SK.  Some people are probably surprised that he is driving 30 hours over a 72 hour period so SK can be here at the beach with us for Easter.  I'm not surprised in the slightest.  It matters--it matters to me and it matters to Daddy.

I love you all to the moon and back and back and back and back, and y'all love each other just as fiercely (Sibling Love), but one day you may meet someone who makes your heart stop, someone who completes you in a way we never could.  I look forward to meeting those people, to loving those people, to welcoming those people into our family (they have no idea what they're getting into....and you know if Caroline doesn't like them she'll run them off within a week). So now my answer to SK's question all those years ago is more complete.

Happy Easter--I love you,
Mama

We Did Something Right--We are the O'Doyles

Chris and I aren't perfect parents; we try really hard, but we make lots of mistakes (and I'm sure if any of our four children are reading this they would be happy to post all our failures), but there is one thing I think we have done well. I don't compliment myself easily on blogs--in fact I have been accused of being too hard on myself (thank you Ben and Mary Sanders for pointing that out to me--not that I have gotten better at it, but this is a start), so even writing that sentence is hard for me.  But we have done something well--we have nurtured the children so that they have extremely close relationships.  They may fuss some with one another, but they are extremely close developing relationships with one another that exist outside of us.  They are siblings, and they are friends.  They love one another and show it every day.

How did we do it?  I'm not entirely sure, but partly we modeled it through our own relationship with our siblings--I'll never forget Chris telling a family member, "Don't even question her relationship with her sister.  I don't even go there."  And we modeled it by spending lots of time together as a family--insisting that they include one another in their lives and that they supported one another in their passions.  I suppose it could have back fired, but it didn't.  (One time in Pittsburgh when SK was 7 and Christopher 5 a girl came over to play with SK.  I thought she was sweet, but she wasn't out the door 3 seconds before SK said, "She can never come over again; she called Christopher a brat and shut the door in his face.")  This closeness has been wonderful, but it has also been painful.  As they begin to go their separate geographical ways it breaks my heart watching them negotiate their new reality as siblings.  It's why I drove to C'ville with Boss so he could spend the weekend with SK because he needed time with her.  And it's why Chris will drive to C'ville (7 hours) and then to the beach (another 7 hours) to pick SK up so she can spend Easter with us only to turn around 48 hours and do all that driving again.  Being together as a family matters and they know it.

Last year was SK's last ballet performance after 15 years.  (yep 3 years old to 18)  Louisville Ballet always has it in March right in the middle of March Madness which has always been a particularly favorite (read painful) time for the men in our family.  As soon as it was over William said, "No offense, but thank God I never have to do that again." So imagine my surprise when two weeks ago William came into my room and said, "Will you take me to the ballet show in a couple of weeks?"  I tried not to fall off the bed (that causes concussions in our family) and asked, "Why?"  "There's just something I need to do."  And that was all I heard for awhile.

Meanwhile, William texted SK--find out what time the show is on Sunday. She happily did; he asked for a pair of her pointe shoes; she gave them.   He enlisted Caroline to draw a poster

(his wouldn't be legible--we love each other but definitely know our limitations) and today we set off.  I will say that Boss was very concerned that it wouldn't go well and William would be embarrassed but as a good older brother should do, he kept his mouth shut and just supported him.  (And I would like just a little credit for going when my beloved Hoos were playing.) They came together to help William, but I will tell you, they wouldn't if they didn't want to--if they didn't think the person William was asking to prom was worthy of him. Recently I said to the four of them, "You know the chances of one of y'all marrying someone the others don't like is pretty big."  To which Caroline emphatically responded, "That won't happen.  We'll run that person off within the first week."  Fortunately we haven't had to face that yet--God help the one who comes into the Doyle life and isn't liked--remember that song, "God bless the mister that comes between me and my sister"--I think our song will be far less pleasant.  Anyway, it became a family project--and then by extension all those

friends who have become part of our family.  (Thank you McKenna and Izzy)

But what it says to me is this, it's hard as they grow up; it's going to be hard as they go their separate ways and have to negotiate their relationships as adults; it could be hard as they bring new people into our family, but we've laid a foundation.  Today showed that we are a family, a family that comes together and supports one another--goes out our way to help one another, but we are also a family that values others--we want each other to have other relationships and that we want to be part of those relationships.  We are the O'Doyles; we come as a pack, but we extend our arms in welcome and in love.  Chris and I did something right.

Just Another Morning

Woke up early to have some quiet time (and to start the laundry so basketball uniforms would be ready for tonight)---within 15 minutes Boss was up (5:15 am) wanting to talk about spring break.  Seriously this child better become a lawyer--fortunately he was interrupted by his brother who was coughing up mucous.  (Okay maybe that's not fortunate for William, but it got me out of the conversation--it's all about me.)  Told William to get in a hot shower, put the monkey bread in the oven, and began looking for medicine.  Boss, "Mama I just have a cough it's not asthma."  "This isn't about you.  I'm looking for your brother."  Boss, "It's always about me and whether I have asthma. I'm pretty sure I've out grown it."  Seriously I just wanted some mucinex for William.

Caroline entered--"Can someone crack my back?"  I told her I only knew how to do it by stepping on the back--Boss, "I can do it.  Cross your arms."  (I'm not sure this is safe, but at least he didn't bring spring break back up). Everything seemed to settle down; I sat down with my coffee and to answer an email from a friend asking me about faith and parenting (she should probably read my response with caution...).  I didn't sit for long.

Caroline, "Are you sure my uniform is in the wash?"  "YES!" I almost shouted with a tone that said how dare you doubt me while at the same time I was heading to the basement to double check.  As I passed Caroline she also began coughing.  "It's starting to sound like a TB ward in this house.  And SK is at school sounding just as bad."  Caroline, "I know.  SK gave it to me."  I was halfway down the stairs but felt the need to say, "She may have given it to you, but she didn't even see the boys."  Caroline, "Obviously you are not a doctor.  I saw her and before I showed symptoms I spread the germs to the boys."  Why I walked back upstairs I'll never know, but I did and poked my head around the corner, "You aren't a doctor either."  "Katherine, I'm in season five of Gray's Anatomy.  I'm practically 1/2 way through medical school."

I returned to the kitchen with confidence that the basketball uniform was in the dryer.  "I'll bring it to you this morning."  Boss, "Wait, bring it at lunch so Charlotte can hang out with us."  I asked what time lunch was and realized I was going to be at a lunch at the same time.  "Well just drop her off with me and then come back and get her."  "Boss, I cannot drop a 2 year old off at Collegiate."  "We'll just tell people she's shadowing.  It's never too early to start looking at your high school options."  I think he may have been serious, but we finally agreed I'd come during a break--

As I was putting monkey bread in a bag for Caroline's friend Rachel who spent the night last night Caroline asked, "Can I have some coffee?"  I reminded her I've said no every morning.  Boss, "Why can't she?"  Caroline, "She thinks it will stunt my growth.  I mean look how tiny I am.  Even these (pointing to her chest) haven't been stunted."  "Caroline!!!!"  Poor Shawn who was facing Caroline throughout will just never be the same--what am I talking about?  I'll never be the same, so I fled to the den.  She followed....

Boss came in and started putting on his cologne.  As opposed to when he was in middle school and bathed in axe, he does a good job.  I looked up and he was spraying his pants.  "What are you doing?" (Why do I ask questions?)  "They haven't been washed in a couple of days.  I only have one pair." "Go get another this weekend."  Honestly he has a car, a debit card and has no problem asking me on a regular basis to transfer money.  Caroline, "You thought he was spraying his privates didn't you?" (She actually didn't say "privates" but I do have some filter...)  Rachel's parents will never let her stay here again..

"Y'all just go!"  They all walked over, kissed me and as Caroline added,"Katherine, don't forget to bring Charlotte to us."  I hope Charlotte's ready for this....