The Daughter-less Daughters

According to my mom, I wanted my last sibling to be a brother so I could be the “only” girl in our family.   I do not know why I was fixated on this, but I was confident my soon-to-be-sibling (who would arrive in December of my second grade year) was going to be a boy.  His name was going to be Michael or Christopher—something very trendy and cool at the time.   “He” would join brother Teddy as another Daughters “son” and my world would be complete. “The Daughters have a son” word play was a big deal when Teddy arrived in September of 1966.  It even made the Argus Leader—quite a feat in the pre-social media days.  There is a little clipping in a worn family scrapbook with proof of this announcement.

 I do not know why I was so adamant about being the only girl but I do remember that around this same time, I was also obsessed with having a nickname. I’m guessing it was something I had read about as I spent an enormous amount of time reading chapter books.  I used to immerse myself in these adventures.  The Boxcar Children, Trixie Belden, The Little House Series, Beverly Cleary novels—all of these characters hold a special place in my life.  I’m guessing somewhere in my travels through the pages, some beloved character was the only girl in their family and went by a really hip nickname.  Whatever the deal was, I was determined to have a nickname and I just knew the new sibling was going to be a little brother.

 My grandpa had told me that same summer that I had legs “as long as a mosquito” and ignoring his strong simile work there, I grabbed onto the comparison and deemed that “Skeeter” would be the perfect nickname for me.  I tried to make “Skeeter” catch on—telling my family I wanted to be called “Skeeter”.  

(Amy Leigh Daughters arrived on a cold December morning.  I raced to my Grandma Mary’s car at lunchtime that brisk day and I remember her telling me “You have a new sister!”  I was not impressed. And as badly as wanted the nickname thing to stick, despite my pleas and hint dropping at the supper table, no one ever called me “Skeeter”.   Not. One. Person. )

Was all of this "boy love" foreshadowing for my future role as a mom?  As I look back, I think it may have been. 

As I joined the motherhood tribe, I remember being thrilled that our first born was a boy. The old ball coach did not care about the gender and said it publicly.  I remember my heart melting a little bit when he responded to a friend, “I don’t care about the boy or girl thing, we just want a healthy baby.” And he was correct.  We didn’t really discuss gender and we had a heck of time naming the babes once we arrived, but I remember how thrilling it was to hear Dr. Malm announce, “It’s a boy!” that April evening.    My initial motherhood adventure was pre-baby gender announcement parties and ultrasounds. Ultrasounds were not as common as they are now.   People weren’t as apt to find out the gender of their blessed miracle on the way.  The only reason I even had to have an ultrasound was because I ended up needing an appendectomy when I was six months pregnant with Tate.  They wanted to make sure what they thought was the issue was actually that—I needed surgery and they were checking on the baby.  While this sounds like a “back in my day” story, it’s not.  It’s just an observation on how things were done.  (And to tell you the truth, I’m old school—I did not want to know the gender before the birth.  I truly believe this is life’s one great surprise, and well worth the wait.  But I sure do love the creativity and fun in these new gender reveals!💙💗

Tate was followed by Scott and while we hoped more would follow, they did not.  I believed God knew what He was doing blessing me with the title “Boy Mom”.  He knew I would be a terrible example of a domestic engineer for the daughters that never arrived.  He knew my missing make up skills and simple fashion talents were better suited for boys. (But I do love me some shoes…)  I can’t knit, or bake very well….I was never that good at playing Barbie’s or doing my nails. Or sewing.   My daughters would have been floundering through life mascara-less in Nike sweatshirts and capris.  (Wearing very cool shoes though.)  The constant hum of ESPN on the TV and mountain of tennis shoes for every season piled by the door?  Been there.    Khakis and simple polo shirts? Perfect.  The Legos, baseball cards, golf tee collection, the overbearing scent of Axe body spray, and various baseball caps all fit seamlessly into my simple life.  I love my “Boy Mom” life and loved everything about raising the boys.  I would have taken ten of them.   They are my greatest gifts.

But blessedly, we’ve always been surrounded by “daughters”.  The ones you acquire through neighbors, extended family, friendships, and our coaching jobs.  Hoopsters, cheerleaders, managers, a niece, a Goddaughter, coach’s kids, and sweet neighbor girls have filled that spot and we are so thankful for all of them.  Thank goodness we haven’t had to buy Prom dresses for all these beauties, but God knew we needed a little “girl power” in our world—to test our patience, to fill our lives with laughter, and to share with us the love and sweetness you get when you have some extraordinary girls in your life. And we have some of the best.

As previously raved about (rightfully so) in a previous blog post, our Goddaughter Molly has brought us much joy.  She is a busy middle school ELA instructor with a passionate heart for the less fortunate and no tolerance for the madness we are seeing in the world right now.  She was our “first” daughter. :) 

There is Haley.  She was our adorable, auburn-haired, freckle-faced neighbor girl in Gregory.  She spent lots of time with us—especially after Tate was born.  Funny and up for any adventure, Haley (and her brother Zach-or “Jack” as Scott called him) were welcome companions on pool trips to Grandma Alice’s in Winner.  Haley made me laugh often.  Keenly observant and witty, Haley was a welcomed and beloved visitor in the old parsonage we rented.  She is now raising two beautiful little girls of her own after marrying a Winner boy! (You can’t go wrong with a Warrior….)

There is not enough space for me to list the cheerleaders I’ve gotten to call my daughters.  Thanks to Facebook, I have been able to connect and share in many of these young ladies’ lives.  They are raising babies, shining in their careers, and doing amazing things in their adult lives.  We have moved past the cheerleader-coach dynamic to adult friendships, which I deeply cherish.  I spent hours with these ladies—making signs, practices, games, road trips all over South Dakota, parades, limo rides, fundraisers, camps, and making some incredible memories as we cheered on the Gorillas, Panthers, and Chargers.  One of these former cheerleaders, Torrie, will be sending her brilliant daughter across the stage to graduate this weekend.  An enormous amount of time and planning have gone into this event and I have enjoyed watching (via social media) her parent her kids.  We share fears, sarcasm, and have the same poor sense of humor on many, many different things. She is funny and clever and my life is better because of her.

 

When we lived in Timber Lake, there was a small gang of girls who loved to come visit me.  Or should I say my bathtub. The White girls were frequent visitors to our humble abode, which is only fair because the Senftner boys were usually up at their house with their brother CJ.  It was an even swap….or should I say a great deal for me. 😂  One evening they were staying with me while their parents were out at the ranch with Tate and CJ.  I decided to start the bedtime routine at our house by giving them a bath, to which I added some of these colored tablets made for bath water.  The boys called them “tubbies” and they loved using them.  And after this initial introduction to the Crayola “Tubbies”, so did Jessi, Josie and Lexy.  They picked pink for the communal bath and soon we added a blue one to make purple.  They were hooked.   Every once-in-awhile, at no certain time of day, I would see one, two, or all three of the White girls on my porch and they would ask me if they could take a bath.  So in they would come and soon the tub was filled with whatever colored water they chose.  No way was I telling these adopted “daughters” of mine “no”.   (I did forget to communicate with my mom about this routine.  Once she was staying with the boys while we chaperoned a senior trip.  When I called to check in that night she reported that the White girls had come over to see if they could take a bath.  If you know my dear mother at all, you know that she saw the girls’ beautiful brown eyes and raced them through the tiny house to start drawing the water.💗💗 ) 

We have been blessed with some of the best colleagues and professional friendships.  There is something about being a coaching family that leads you to other coaching families.  This is certainly the case with my new state champion daughter, Rynn.  Rynn and I crossed paths via basketball.  Shocking, I know.  Rynn is a beautiful, kind, fierce young lady who brightens your day (or text messages) with her sweet personality.  The very first time I met her, it was love at first sight.  She brightens up the room and her giggle and smile are just the best. She and another darling I like to claim as my own, Reyna, trekked out to Onida last summer to visit me.  It was a simple visit, but meant the world to me.  I loved having their laughter and spirit in the house for even just one night.  We were so very proud of these two and their teammates this past March as we watched them battle, scratch, and claw their way to become state champions.   Rynn will graduate this weekend and we will be there in spirit.  She is going to soar…and we will be right behind you cheering dear girl.   (And please come visit again this summer…and bring Reyna. And the trophy...)

We are in Bismarck this weekend for the graduation of our niece, Marriann. She is the only Senftner granddaughter….the Senftners are heavy on the boy offspring.   While I willingly admit I am wearing my “Aunt Spectacles”, I must tell you there are not enough good things I can say about Marriann.  Her wit, smarts and calm demeanor make you take note right away.  She is a force to be reckoned with in all the very best ways.  Polished, driven, and fiercely competitive, I have marveled at her high school career.  She never stops working –academically or athletically.   She will be attending UMary next fall to study Pre-Med and will be playing soccer for the Marauders.  Marriann spent her first birthday in Denmark and turned two while living in Dubai, before her family returned to the states to live in Bismarck.  And boy are we glad.  While our busy schedules have not allowed us to see you as often as we would have liked, it certainly is fine to have you close.

 

My brother in law Tom was a stay at home dad while the kids were growing up.  I greatly admire both he and Kari in the way they’ve raised their family—simply put, my niece and nephew are amazing kids. This didn’t happen by accident and I know that Tom’s role in this adventure was sometimes tough.  it was not that common to see stay at home dads in the Midwest.  They are the perfect team as far as parents go. 

  

One of my favorite stories about Marriann was when she was a little girl and she was starting a preschool program at the YMCA in Bismarck.  I may have some of this jumbled, but our sweet girl had taken gymnastics and swimming and done other social activities, but was never very far away from her family for very long.  This preschool thing was a big deal—Dad would drop her off and after a few hours, would return to gather his student.  On one particular drive to preschool, as they drove by a landmark house, Marriann told her chauffeur/dad, “Dad, right about here is when my tummy starts to feel funny. It means we’re almost to the Y.”  Obviously, this quiet little girl knew the route to her preschool and had some understandable qualms about climbing out of the car each session.  She and her dad had a great thing going.  Seriously, who decided she needed to go to preschool?  But she ended up loving preschool.  It was just the thought of leaving the comforts and confines of her familiar routine that she was used to that made her tummy feel funny. 

Today we will celebrate all things Marriann at her party, and tomorrow she will walk towards the future as a highly decorated academic from Bismarck St. Mary’s High School.  Hers will be the last class to attend this building as they will open a new campus this fall.  The current St. Mary’s campus is close to the YMCA complex where she first started her journey in formal schooling. 

Now, I’m not sure what route her dad will take on the way to graduation tomorrow, but I have a feeling that it might be his tummy that is feeling a little funny as he drives this course one last time…..You two had a good thing going.  A great thing, actually.  Marriann is ready to rise and will do amazing things.  But it’s harder for us parents to adjust to this fact of life.  Trust me, I know. 

While this “Daughters” gal never had any of her own, I am certainly blessed with so many amazing young ladies who have made our lives richer and better. There are too many to mention and not enough time to write it all down, but know how many of you have blessed my life. 

Now, off to find a pair of sweats and some Birks….it’s Saturday. 😊