On a Happier Note..

My grandmother is one of those women of the 50's. She and I couldn't be more different - truly, truly, different - from each other. My teen years were spent with her saying to me, "Are you trying to make yourself look ugly?" and "You need more lipstick and rouge." (Excuse me, but what the hell is rouge, exactly?)

She believes that if you don't have money or looks, you don't have anything that's worth anything. We have NEVER understood each other - it's a total enigma to me that the same blood runs through our veins.

I can also trace the majority of my self-esteem problems to her. I was never skinny enough, never wore enough make-up, never wore the right clothes, my shoulders were too broad, I didn't work hard enough.. she is my absolute worst critic.

There are a few moments in my life, though, that really stand out, and I am so grateful for them.

The first that I can remember was when Zion was two weeks old. She watched me change his diaper and put his clothes back on him, and she said, "You're much better at this motherhood thing than I thought you would be." To some people, that's crass, but I knew how worried she had been thinking I would abandon him (as my mother did with me, which resulted in my grandmother having to raise me), or that I wouldn't be capable of providing the love and the nuturing that he needed. That single sentence gave me the confidence I needed to get through the first couple of months of being a new (extremely young) mother.

The second time was when he was about eight months old. She walked me to the car as we were leaving her house, and watched as I carefully buckled all the pieces of his 5-point car seat harness. "Zion," she said, "it's not easy being a mother these days, but your mama sure is good at it." I'm pretty sure that hell froze over that afternoon.

She popped a surprise visit at the Desperate Housewives crop, and was visibly impressed. My grandfather said, "I want to take a picture of this and put it in the church bulletin to show them what real leadership can accomplish." My grandmother kept saying over and over again, "I can't believe you guys organized this by yourselves. Did you really do all of this without any professional assistance?"

Last night she called me and said, "Mike came to pick your son up this evening, and Zion greeted him at the door and said, 'Hi Daddy!'. Your husband's entire face lit up - he was grinning from ear to ear, and he said, 'Hi son!' and I thought to myself, 'They'll never be rich, but they'll always have that.'"

Really, that's what it's about. I complain too much, and I dwell on negativity, and I have nothing to complain or be negative about. I have everything I've ever wanted - ever wished for - and so much more.