Who’s Your Mommy?

**Hello from Greece! While Eric and I are away, I’ve asked some of my favorite people on earth to write guest posts. This one is from my awesome mom. You can also find her at Mindful Magpie. Subscribing to her blog would definitely be doing yourself a favor!**

This is a message from an experienced Mother. Krug the Thinker’s Mother. I’m taking care of some things for her while she trips off to Greece. without a care in the world. Kids!

Just a few days ago Krug wrote an insightful post about how it feels to be a full fledged adult while simultaneously, in the presence of her parents, getting to be once again six years old. Apparently her Dad and I do a good job of putting her in the “Isn’t She The Most Precious Darling You Ever Saw” seat when we are together. And Krug doesn’t mind occupying that seat at all. Reading her blog post made me think about all the unspoken contracts that exist between parents and children. As parents, we just see to what needs doing for the children without regard for appreciation or recognition. When special events such as vacations or family reunions occur, the children are free of responsibility. The parents’ job is to think ahead, to plan for every contingency. When a child looks forward to a trip or to seeing loved family members, she knows just what to expect from the adults. To whit:

1) To be greeted effusively: Ok, well, on this trip Cameron actually met US at the gate, because she got there first.

Painted Wooden Bead Necklaces2) To be brought surprises: Actually, Cameron had me close my eyes while she put these darling homemade necklaces in my hand. Followed by a sexy little lace bag of all purposes. Which she made for me.

Lace Zippered Pouches3)To take care of necessities: We take no chances on hotel/condo coffee appurtenances. We had our Peet’s coffee and a coffee grinder. From my daughter’s backpack..

Açma4)To be brought special homemade treats: Can you imagine how insanely delicious these simits tasted after a few seconds in the microwave and a swat of butter over the top? We didn’t even let one stray nigella seed go to waste. We licked our fingers and scooped them right up off the napkin. But no, I didn’t bring them. Cameron made them and brought them.

Fremont5)Plan to make fun memories for the children : It just so happened that Cameron had a couple of Seattle books and a typed list of the research she had done about the various cool neighborhoods, including bookstores and coffeeshops.

Record ShopThis meant I got to see:

Fremont Troll the Fremont troll,

Lenin in Fremontthe statue of Lenin,

Delanceydrink Stumptown coffee and eat at Delancey.

Chihuly6)To monitor behavior in public: I didn’t misbehave all that much but Cameron did have to speak to me when I accidentally blinded a man in Delancey with my flashbulb, and when I went into a flowerbed at the Chihuly Gardens to take a picture. She was firm but kind.

7)To ensure the safety of all: We stayed on the eleventh floor of a condo building downtown. What a luxury it was to open the windows wide and let in the cool breeze! We were surprised that there were no screens on the windows; I guess they don’t have many bugs. It would have been heavenly to sleep with the windows open, but … Cameron wouldn’t allow it. She was afraid her dad and I might get up in the night and fall out the window.

Prize8)To allow a little harmless rule breaking: While waiting for a seat at Delancey we ran into a giveaway box in someone’s yard. Cameron didn’t say a word when i found this prize. She let me KEEP it!

PrettyAlso, she let me take a picture of the people’s colorful laundry. I didn’t try jumping on the bed, but I think maybe I should have.

Space Needle9) To let the kids roam a little: After all, it was a vacation! I had the run the gift shop in the Space Needle with absolutely no hovering from Cameron. Even up at the top she was cool, allowing me to go at my own pace around the observation deck where she sometimes couldn’t even see me.

BeautyWait. Wait a minute. As I write this, something feels, um, I’m starting to feel a little like a child. Like a special, darling, beloved child. But that can’t be. When I was my daughter’s age I already had three children. I’ve worn this adult mantle for thirty three years now. That’s the way it is. I am an adult and the parent. And Cameron is my baby. But could it be that I am also HER baby?

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