{"id":11193,"date":"2015-08-29T08:13:38","date_gmt":"2015-08-29T14:13:38","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.angelaross.net\/blog\/?p=11193"},"modified":"2016-04-20T12:40:56","modified_gmt":"2016-04-20T18:40:56","slug":"the-stroller-and-as-much-of-a-dropping-off-at-byu-post-as-i-can-write","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.angelaross.net\/blog\/2015\/08\/the-stroller-and-as-much-of-a-dropping-off-at-byu-post-as-i-can-write\/","title":{"rendered":"The Stroller and as much of a dropping-off-at-BYU post as I can write"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"1-DSC_3660\"<\/a>
Sparky hoped to stow away to college<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n
\"1-DSC_3664\"<\/a>
A parting gift<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n
\"1-DSC_3662\"<\/a>
The dorm room, not decorated, but fantastic.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

The stroller<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Spring of 1998 was the first time I watched the Texas bluebonnets bloom along the roadways. We were building a new house. I had time to do projects and I spent some of that time sewing clothing for one-year-old Paige. I bought cheerful flowered fabrics for play clothes and a gauzy organza fabric for her Easter dress.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

This time was the beginning of a focused effort to acquire toys for our little girl. I didn\u2019t know then that toys are something you only need to buy for a few years. Once you\u2019ve got a good collection, they seem to multiply magically in the closets and bins.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

One day I drove Paige to the mall in Cedar Park to visit the toy store. Paige picked out a pink doll-sized stroller, a perfect size for her to push. She was so excited about it that I let her push the stroller through the mall. She began to move ahead of me and I was left to follow her. I watched her bob ahead of me with her cute short haircut, hot pink sandals, and handmade pink dress. Because I was a few steps behind her, I saw the smiles from shoppers as they noticed this little woman walking so confidently with her stroller.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

I can still remember the rattly-scraping sound that the wheels made on the floors and sidewalks. I will never forget the print of her pink dress nor the love she granted to each of her dolls that rode in the stroller.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

I don\u2019t know why certain memories stay with me while others are lost. Perhaps this memory of Paige pushing her stroller stays because her little form, pushing forward on her own, became a glimpse of what I would experience again and again, observing her become more independent. I couldn\u2019t have appreciated at the time that this scene was the first of many, where I would watch our children move beyond our reach to become who they are.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Just as I watched the smiles of strangers that day, I\u2019ve seen the delight that my children\u2019s reaching has pulled from observers. I\u2019ve been blessed with friends who have loved our children and doted on them and shown support for their dance, baseball, and piano feats. The feeling I have at these moments when my children perform or move to the next phase is full, sometimes painful, and expansive. My heart races to catch up as my children move ahead with strengths I couldn\u2019t imagine for them. <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

It\u2019s when I give them the freedom to move out of my reach that I\u2019ve had better perspective of what they can become. But, oh, the ache that comes with my smile!
\n<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The stroller Spring of 1998 was the first time I watched the Texas bluebonnets bloom along the roadways. We were building a new house. I had time to do projects and I spent some of that time sewing clothing for one-year-old Paige. I bought cheerful flowered fabrics for play clothes and a gauzy organza fabric … Continue reading The Stroller and as much of a dropping-off-at-BYU post as I can write<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[10,31,30,29,4],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-11193","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-adventurous-kids","category-angies-memoir-project","category-byu","category-handmade-dolls","category-motherhood"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.angelaross.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11193","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.angelaross.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.angelaross.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.angelaross.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.angelaross.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=11193"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"http:\/\/www.angelaross.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11193\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":11198,"href":"http:\/\/www.angelaross.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11193\/revisions\/11198"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.angelaross.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=11193"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.angelaross.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=11193"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.angelaross.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=11193"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}