The Tea Party

My daughter invited me to a “fancy party” today.  She came downstairs from her bedroom dressed in matching hat and purse topped off with a string of purple Mardi Gras beads.  She informed me that I needed a hat and necklace too so I grabbed my sun-bleached straw beach hat from the dresser.  She decided to lend me one of her fairy necklaces and carefully stretched the plastic pink beads over my head, her eyes shining with excitement. 

We sat together on the carpeted floor of the living room on a little fleece blanket barely big enough for the two of us.  She, of course, invited a few other friends, namely kitty, bear and sheep.  She carefully sat them each in their own special place next to us on the blanket.  She passed out the ceramic teacups and plates.  We had high tea along with her favorite animal cookies.  We all slurped and crunched enthusiastically.  It was one of those moments that I wanted to have permanently etched in my memory.

I just took it all in, my senses overflowing - her beautiful face framed by her hat with the tiny pink roses, her hair softly curling around the edges.  I loved the way her warm little hand felt in mine as she led me to the living room saying “Come on Momma”, quietly looking up at me like I’m her perfect best friend.   Sometimes I can just feel her to the core of my very being.   Even the scent of her as I leaned over and kissed her, filled not only my lungs but all of my empty places, (ah, baby aromatherapy). 

As I looked at her, I kept seeing glimpses of her past and future.  I remembered her as a colicky infant and was awed at how much she’d changed and grown.  I couldn’t believe she was once that helpless little soul so dependent on me for everything, and now so full of imagination, independence and creativity.  I also kept wondering what she’d look like as a teen or an adult and what she might do with her life.  My heart felt a mixture of joy and sadness, so joyful for this time together and so sad at the thought of losing her in the future.  I wondered when the day would come when tea parties were no more. 

This brings me to admitting that I almost didn’t attend my daughter’s fancy party.  I had dishes to do, laundry to finish, floors to sweep and bathrooms to clean.  Not to mention wanting some down time for myself with some calls to make, e-mails to write, and  maybe even a little time to read a book.  It can be challenging to choose how I’m going to spend my time each day.  How do I prioritize things when it all seems important?

But I stopped myself.  I decided to put my “to do” list aside, along with the guilt and expectations of what I‘m supposed to accomplish around the house – and just be with my daughter.  Staying home to raise my children for me means taking the time to be with them.  Being a mom has been the toughest job I’ve ever known.  It’s constant and never-ending, a true balancing act, but also the most rewarding.  And it definitely felt rewarding to be invited to my daughter’s tea party, with her three-year-old sweetness and innocence beckoning me.  Her soft dimpled smile, as she poured me a cup of tea, was all I needed.  The dishes could wait.  There will always be dishes.  There won’t always be days like this where it’s magical and lovely to be three.

Amy Moored lives and plays in Holland, Michigan near the Lake Michigan shoreline with her husband, son and daughter.  On her journey of motherhood and self discovery she has enjoyed taking classes in writing, art, gardening, and self improvement.  She can be reached at themooreds@charter.net