“If It’s Monday, It’s Mama” Reprised at the request of Madison
The Traditions of “Me and My Three”, Part One
Madison has asked me to reprise our “If It’s Monday, It’s Mama” blogpost, and some things you just do because the person asking you to is that important. “If It’s Monday, It’s Mama” became my love letter to my children in in 2008 after my diagnosis with breast cancer. Breast cancer was the greatest gift I never want to be gifted with again. But, it is a true example of how God takes scary, hard, and broken seasons and makes you a better human, and it is my hope, a better mother.
I have always written to and for my children as a way to document my love for them and identify special memories from my perspective. Starting in 2008, my writing became more consistent and purposeful and ended up being posted in the blog, The Road Less Traveled Always Leads Home”. This year, we closed that blog and created “WholeheartedOne”. It is here where I will honor Madison’s request and start again with “If It Is Monday, It is Mama”.
I write for Madison, Kenton, and Johnson. And, if you read this and smile, cry, and laugh with us, then we welcome you, too.
Some History…
“No matter what, once a family, always a family”
Ours is a family who started with some sense of tradition and then, later, re-tradition when I married Ian, your stepdad. When you children were born, we were a very modest family. In fact, so modest, that a dear friend once leaned against our family’s backyard chain-linked, fence as we watched our children play and said, “Lesa, don’t you ever want more for your children”. What she saw was a small, crammed yard in a poor neighborhood, with a hand-me-down swing and a “free” tree house. But, what I saw was a mother who made the decision to quit her job to be a stay-at-home Mama even though that meant giving up Evan Picone suits, Crocodile leather shoes, and the joy that came from working hard and achieving personal success. The decision to stay at home to raise you children was not an easy one. It cut our income almost in half and meant that we would have to “down stroke” from our new, little home and cute little car to an older home, in an older neighborhood and to buy an even older, used car.
It meant that instead of new clothes, you kids often had ones bought at the consignment shop and/or given you by your cousin. But, after a season of prayer, your dad and I decided it was the right thing to do for our family and so I gave my resignation to PNC bank and started the journey which we believed was best for all of us. And, I think you children will agree that those ten years at 1020 Balsam Drive were some of the best our family ever had (July 1992-July 2020). It was at this house that we really leaned into family traditions because we had to learn how to “make” fun time and sweet memories on a very small budget. Creativity and ingenuity became our best friend.
We moved to a home where everything we needed was within walking distance except for your dad’s work and church, both which were not too far away. Me, and the three of you children, walked almost everywhere, even in the snow. We often would walk to the bank, stop by the duck pond and feed the ducks bread, head to Kroger to pick up a few groceries, get ice cream (a big treat for you kids) and stop for piano lessons. My mind carries your laughter on our back-yard swing set in my heart to this day. Your Poppy taught you boys to ride without your training wheels (I need to find those pictures we have) and it was often that we pulled the boys in our red wagon to Garden Springs Elementary School to pick you up from school. Your dad pushed first you alone and then after the boys came along, the boys, with you and I riding along side on bikes through the neighborhood.
Thursday nights were a favorite. Your dad often would work late or referee a basketball game and while I mowed the front yard, you kids climbed the Magnolia tree “really, really high Mama”. Madison, you would help me by attempting to sweep the grass off the sidewalk and “I did it” was your favorite phrase each time you used our big, old broom to get the grass off. It makes me smile still today.
We were fortunate to be adopted by “Dot and Elmer” an elderly couple who lived across the street. They loved you as if you were their own grandchildren and one of my favorite memories is of the time Kenton and Johnson crawled out of their baby beds in the wee hours of the morning and toddled over to Dot and Elmer’s house. Keep in mind, they had to get out of their baby bed, unlock the back door, go through the screen door on the porch, un-hitch the chain-link fence and then cross the street!! Needless to say, your dad and I were mortified when we got their call letting us know that “we have the boys, they came for an early morning visit” at 2:00 am in the morning! But, it has grown into a fond memory.
After Dot died, Elmer became our special Grandpa and we often cooked him meals with you wearing your red cape and carrying our family picnic basket to take him his dinner. He called you his “red riding hood” and you adored him. He loved to come over and swing with you children on your swing and sit with me and watch you play, reminding me that “these are precious time you are living right now, be sure you don’t miss them.” He was right and I am so glad we listened to his words.
When Elmer died tragically, you came to me with your piggy bank and asked if you could give your money to Mr. Gary, Elmer’s son to pay for Elmer’s funeral. I didn’t have the heart to tell you that your less than $10 bank funds would not etch the name Elmer on his tombstone. We gathered as a family and decided to take your money, your brother’s money, and your dad/my money to give Gary a contribution to Elmer’s gravestone. Gary was very touched and gave the boys some marbles from Elmer and a decorative glass vase with the sweetest note telling us what you children meant to his parents and to him.
Balsam Drive was good to our little family. We grew herbs and tomatoes in the back yard. You kids got bugs from under the large stepping stones and played “all the sports” you could in that small, postage-sized back yard. We knew our neighbors on all four sides of us, by name, and that chain-link fence fostered genuine sharing and friendship which changed our little family’s life.
We played sports at the local ball field, swam in the summer at the run-down, but inexpensive pool with the paint chipping off its side. I can remember taking you there around 3pm and staying until your dad dropped by after work to get us. We would go home, eat a hot dog, and put you kids to bed saying that “the pool was as good as a bath”.
It was at Balsam Drive that we began the traditions of all three of you kids being read to in the same bed, praying while kneeling by the couch, and making our own popsicles. That is where we made our Christmas ornaments (Santa’s from tongue depressors, wrapping paper with your handprints, and reindeer food to sprinkle on the grass).
It was in this home that you children began the tradition of memorizing poetry to say to me for Mother’s Day and drawing me pictures which we framed for my birthday. I had asked for this in lieu of store-bought gifts and as you know that tradition is still one of my favorites today.
We got our first and only dog, Jewel, while living in this home. I will never forget surprising you children with a visit to the local shelter and your disbelief when your dad told you that you could have the little beagle/shepherd mix puppy as your own. We had promised you, Madison, that when you turned ten, you could have a pet, and this honored that promise. The little puppy had mange, had been mistreated, and was not in really good shape, but she was ours to love back to good health and we did. Madison, you got to pick her name since it was you who was promised a puppy and you decided to use your middle name, Jewel. It was the perfect fit! Before you knew it, she was a bright eyed, waggy tailed puppy dog who was forever grateful to be saved, loved, and cherished by our little crew.
Traditions are important as they carry you during both good and sad times, and that has proven true for us. As I look back over the thirty and twenty-five years we have had together, it is our traditions that have helped us bond and remain close and for that, I am forever grateful.
So, to black eyed peas/corn bread on New Years Day, silly board games, spoons, climbing magnolia trees, home-made Halloween costumes, riding bikes on the sidewalks around our neighborhood, basketball goals in the back yard, and neighborhood ball parks. To, sleeping on the floor with each boy’s hand holding onto mine while they slept in their baby beds with sissy in the toddler bed, to home made no-bake and chocolate chip cookies, to homegrown veggies and hand made Christmas ornaments. To “Mama’s Day poetry” and violin concert birthdays. To scary face painting and artwork hung in the kitchen. To paperclip motivational “hanging down until it reaches the top of your head” and Grammy’s handmade basketball bedding for the boy’s beds. To no-tv, just movies at our house and everyone is on an allowance. To dusting and finding quarters under the lamps, to toys put away under the staircase. To hitting balls over the neighbor’s fence and tea parties with the missionaries down the street. 
To mom working at church with kids running around the building, to trips in the snow with snow so deep we could barely move, to frogs in the back yard and lightening bugs in jars. To homemade soup and grandparent’s visits.
To traditions…that withstand time. To all of it. I am grateful. Especially, for “Flying Kites”…that is one of my favorites!
ILYAOYMC,
Mama
