Carla and I have been working our way through some of the family movies you suggested. So far, we’ve done Freaky Friday, in which I think Lindsay Lohan is excellent. Bend it Like Beckham which was more relationship-heavy than I remembered (and, dare I say, sort of boring?). Newsies, which has a banging soundtrack, and to which Carla said, “Why aren’t there any girl characters?” (She’s not wrong; by my count, there are four total women in the entire movie.)
Most recently, we dove into A League of Their Own. I started crying pretty much right away. I don’t recall it being a tearjerker, do you? The tears welled up so often that I started making a list. (Um, mild spoilers if you have somehow not yet seen this absolute masterpiece of a movie.)
- When Marla’s dad blamed her lack of femininity on himself, because he raised her alone after his wife died
- When Marla left her dad, who was so supportive of her baseball prowess, but is now all alone
- When Shirley Baker couldn’t find her name on the list, and then when another player figured out that Shirley couldn’t read and helped her find her name and they all cheered
- When all the women were so excited to be chosen as members of the All American League
- When Doris talked about how her boyfriend made her feel less-than because she can play ball
- When Mae said “they ain’t closing me down”
- When the Black woman threw a ball to one of the Peaches and nodded to the Peaches in a way that said, “Yes, I know I should be among you and it’s super shitty that I’m not simply because of the color of my skin.”
- When the stands were full of cheering crowds
- The first time the Peaches sing Evelyn’s song in the locker room
- When the telegram guy comes into the locker room with the telegram for Betty Spaghetti
- When Dottie sobs with relief that the telegram wasn’t about Bob, and with worry for the potential that the next one might have his name on it
- When Bob shows up at Dottie’s door and she can’t believe he’s there, in person, alive
- When Dottie says “Can we just hold each other for the rest of our lives?”
- When Jimmy gives Dottie the “baseball gets inside you” speech
- The entire portion of the film devoted to the series when Dottie is up at bat against Kit, and Kit so fiercely wants to win and Dottie is so stoic and unflappable
- When Dottie drops the ball and Kit’s team wins
- When Dottie tells Kit the things she won’t miss from baseball and hugs Kit and tells her she loves her
- When Old Dottie tells Old Marla she lost her husband just that winter
- When Old Stillwell tells Old Dottie his mom died
I’m pretty teary these days. I always tend to get emotional around Carla’s birthday (although less so the past few years, which I thought was a good trend; maybe “turning ten” feels like such a big deal, it’s bringing up extra stuff?). I cannot believe she’s hitting double digits. I cannot believe I’ve known her for a full decade. I cannot believe she is about to head into her final year of elementary school. She brings me so much joy and fills my life with so much light and love and energy and glitter – literal and metaphorical – and I just want time to slow down.
Some people try to talk me out of these feelings. It’s good that Carla is growing up. It’s what she should be doing. It’s better than the alternative. And to those people I say: yes. You are right. I am so proud and overwhelmed by happiness that I get to watch this person grow and change and become ever more herself. It is a precious gift and one that I do not take for granted.
And yet I am unabashedly sentimental about Carla of yesterday. I want to feel unborn Carla kick against my hand pressed to my stomach. I want to cradle fresh-baked-loaf-of-bread Carla in my arms and watch her head loll, milk-drunk, against my shoulder. I want to trail toddler Carla down the sidewalk, stopping as she points out every acorn, every leaf, every ant with wonderment and glee infusing her squeaky toddler voice. I want to watch kindergarten Carla spin in her twirly skirt and second grade Carla slide down a snow-covered slide and fourth grade Carla play her guitar. I want all of these things at once, just as much as I want to see what middle school and high school and college and parent Carla will be like. I can hold both of those things – the joy and nostalgia, the excitement for what is yet to come and the grief for what no longer is – in my heart and I can give myself space to feel it all.
We also watched A League of Their Own on the day we put in an offer on a new house. I could feel it, that this was OUR new house. It has everything we could want – a mudroom! a crafting space! room for so many books! – and more. It’s in a beautiful neighborhood, with kids Carla’s age in houses on either side of the house and across the street (the one thing our wonderful current neighborhood lacks is kids her age). It has walking trails and ponds and a playground. And there are so many dogs, you guys. So many dogs. It’s pretty close to perfect, and we put in a competitive offer, and I had a good feeling we would get it, but then we had to wait. Watching A League of Their Own was as much a way to distract myself as it was exposing Carla to the great films of my youth. So I’m sure at least some of the crying was less about the characters’ situation and more about the opposing forces of wanting something so much while also being deeply afraid of letting go of the wonderful thing I already have.
Because when we say hello to a new house – a house we want, and love – we have to say goodbye to the wonderful house we live in now.
It’s just a house. But. This house is so inextricably tied up with Carla. With Carla and the rapid passage of time.
My husband and I decided, here, in this house, that we wanted a baby. I walked from my bathroom down the hall to my husband’s home office and announced I was pregnant. We painted our baby’s room the perfect shade of pale purple and carefully chose art for her walls. We brought baby Carla home to this house. I slept on the floor in front of her crib countless times. I sat with her on the carpet in the living room, pointing out the sliding glass doors to the wonderful goings on in the yard: the squirrels and bunnies frolicking in the grass, the sun moving over the lawn and peeking through the hedges, the leaves of the oak tree shifting overhead. She learned how to walk here, how to ride a bike, how to swing and blow bubbles and do multiplication. This home was our refuge during the lockdown of 2020. It’s housed ten thousand make-believe games, a hundred thousand art projects, countless hours of singing. How can I leave this house when it’s so full of Carla? So full of versions of Carla that exist only in memory and the molecules of these walls?
Letting go – even when it is a good thing, even when it is the way things should be – is so hard for me. Maybe it is hard for you, too. If not, I envy your ability to leap across the gap to the next thing, confident that you will find footing on the other side.
As always with anything: Things could change, things could fall apart. As it stands now, we close on our new house in July and will likely move in August or September. This will be Carla’s last birthday in this house, the house she’s lived in her entire life. I am so excited. I am so sad. I hold both of these feelings at once in my heart.
This hits home because Noah’s on the other side of the country, doing what he wants to be doing, and we don’t know when he’s coming back East– could be soon, as his internship ends in a month, but maybe he’ll find a job during that time and then it might not be soon. I’m really happy for him and I miss him terribly and the uncertainty of the situation is driving me crazy.
We’re not leaving our house, but we’ve lived here since he was a year old, so every corner of it is stuffed with memories. I wonder sometimes how I could possibly leave it. Both kids have had all or nearly all of their childhoods here.
Oh gosh yes — that is a lot of things to be happy/sad about Steph. I am having such renewed love and respect for my parents, who encouraged me and my brother to spread our wings… and then we flew all the way across the country, to opposite corners.
Oh, I get it! Someone once described parenting as a constant grieving process for the phases that have passed. Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about when my kids were little. i know they have to grow up, and we WANT them to grow up, but those times were so precious and they’re over, forever. It’s sad! I think it’s all coming to the forefront in your case because of Carla’s birthday, and getting ready to move. I’m sure it will be very hard to leave that house! I don’t know what the answer is- are we just supposed to walk around permanently sad? In my case, my daughter is about to start high school and I’m painfully aware that there are ONLY FOUR MORE YEARS. But I remember the toddler days like it was yesterday! I miss that little girl! Sigh. This is hard.
It is hard, Jenny. Constant grieving process for the past sounds exactly right.
Mothers hearts are just so full of love and tenderness and sorrow and empathy and worry and you are right, there is room for it all. Like any muscle, it grows only by breaking and healing, which seems to happen daily as a mom!
Oh gosh, YES. This entire sentiment rings so true.
This is such a touching post Suzanne; I hear you on how hard change can be, and how hard to see your babies become big people. Trust me, each stage becomes more wonderful. (Except maybe the teen years !! ).
Haha – I have heard rumors that the teen years might be tricky! 🙂
This is so, so beautifully written. And many congratulations on your new home!
Thanks so much Wendy!
I was on the edge of my excersize bike over here . . . did you get the house? Did you not get the house? Hooray for the house winning. That’s huge.
I am with you on all the feels. Missing the amazing stages of life. And I was thrilled to move- we needed the space, but i brought 5 of my 6 kids home from the hospital there. So.many.memories.
Love League of Their Own. All the best in these coming months of change.
So many memories!!! But I suppose, if we are lucky, we will build new ones.
I think you got the house but I am also not completely sure if you did get it! But I hope you did as it is very hard to find something that checks all of your boxes! Our old house similarly did not have many families with young kids – or kids period. Our new block is amazing in that regard. Paul will go to K with another boy and there are kids around Will’s age. Having friends/playmates on your block is huge!
I am very much not a sentimental person, but sometimes I feel insecure about the lack of grieving I feel. I have yet to feel sad on one of my kids’ birthdays. Admittedly, I am not built for the baby/toddler stage so that is part of why there hasn’t been much grief about the passage of time. Surely my time is coming but I am so very pragmatic – and my husband is, too. I try not to push my feelings on others, though, and try to acknowledge that the change is hard. But often people will say, “aren’t you so sad that he’s starting K?” instead of “how do you feel about him starting K?” I think in general, we, as a society, need to be better about meeting people where they are and not pushing how we feel/felt in a similar situation on them. To someone who is struggling w/ transitions say “that’s so hard!” or “that sounds so hard.”
But I did cry this week because I’m having a rough week w/ all the transitions my kids are going through so I feel you on the tears. I broke down at book club and I so very rarely cry. So I feel you, friend.
Oh Lisa, I’m so sorry you are having a rough time right now! And I think you are totally right about not pushing our emotions onto others. We all process things differently and should try to meet people where they are, not where we expect them to be.
Yes, we got the house!
“When the telegram guy comes into the locker room with the telegram for Betty Spaghetti” YES, gets me every time.
Congrats on the house, fingers crossed the deal closes as planned. I understand about your sentimental attachment to your current house. I’ve had to move on from some places I loved deeply, still do, there are memories there, BUT you have to keep moving forward.
You’re so right, Ally. You have to keep moving forward. Nostalgia is not a reason for stagnancy.
No matter how old our children become, we see all the stages of their lives. They are the baby bump, the infant, the toddler, the child, the teenager…That’s exciting about your new house! I’m glad you found something that will suit you so well.
YES. They exist as all those versions of themselves at once. Sob!
Time is a trixster. It goes too fast sometimes and so slow others. My daughter is a worrier and frets about changes and future uncertainties (I do too sometimes). I remind myself to be in the moment and find something upcoming to be excited about. When we moved a couple years ago, I took a lot of pictures of our old house. Its fun to look back on what it looked like. Saying goodbye to it wasn’t easy, but I’m so glad for the new place. Good luck with the transition!
I love this idea – we should definitely take pictures of this house before we move.
Oh, what a lovely post. Of course you’re happy she’s growing up! But wouldn’t it be nice if you could go back in time for just a few minutes?
And, yay! on a new house. I will admit that I am very sentimental about places and cried when we moved out of the apartment my husband rented when we first got married. I mean, I obviously didn’t want to stay there FOREVER, but the memories we made in that place are now just memories. But yay! So many dogs!
“the memories we made in that place are now just memories.” This makes me so sad!!!
We moved around a lot when I was growing up. As a result, I am afraid of change. I haven’t moved since we bought this house in 2005. I’m so attached to it, and the thought of leaving it with all the memories makes me feel exactly how you do, so I completely understand how you feel.
But it sounds like this new home is perfect for you and your family! I can’t wait for you to share it with us. I’m sending you lots of love as you navigate this emotionally charged time. 😘💕
Awww, thank you Kari.
Congrats on the new house. Just a warning – the Amazon Prime League of their Own series is, ah, very sophisticated. My kids love the movie and with a softball player in my house I thought it would be great. I’m glad I pre watched it, it’s too much for my tween.
Ooooh good to know. Thanks for the heads up!
Woo hoo new house!!!! Congrats!!!
I saw League for the first time last year and definitely had some misty moments. Feel all of the feels!
Woo hoo!! Thank you!
I love A League of Their Own; such a fantastic movie and, yes, kind of a tear jerker in it’s own way.
Regarding Carla’s birthday and your complex feelings; I get it, Suzanne. I went through the exact same thoughts/feelings with mine. You want to do your job as a mom and launch them and feel so much pride in their independence and accomplishments along the way but….you still miss those younger ages and looking back now, it feels like there wasn’t enough time for each stage. I think a lot of moms feel the same – not all, of course, but a lot.
How exciting – you found a house; THE house!! Yes, it will be hard to walk away from your current house but you can take comfort in the fact that your memories will come with you and not stay behind; as you forge ahead to make new memories in the new house.
It definitely feels like there wasn’t enough time. Thanks for empathizing, Gigi.
We watched A League of Their Own with Coop the other night, and I cried my FACE OFF.
YAY! A new house! Congratulations— how wonderful!
Thank you Sarah!
I loved reading this post. And I love that movie! I haven’t seen it in years but I watched it with my sisters many many times as a kid and remember every single one of the moments you list, and you’re right, they are all tear-jerkers! Congrats on the house. Moving is always very emotional, but the new place sounds wonderful!
Thanks, Kristin!
Suzanne, this resonates with me so much. Every single word of this, I feel. Except swap A League of Their Own for Forrest Gump. (Lines of tear-jerking: “Dear god, make me a bird so I can fly far, far far away,” “So bye-bye Jenny, they’re sending me to Vietnam.” “Bubba was my best good friend…and he died right there beside that river in Vietnam” “I was Lieutenant Dan Taylor!” “You’re STILL Lieutenant Dan.” “Don’t you EVER call him STUPID!”) (I just made myself tear up thinking about this.)
But I feel this so much. I love my boys growing up, I love the people they are. But thinking about leaving the home where they grew up, the neighbourhood where every little thing happened to them, the city of their childhood…it’s all so wrenching. I understand your feelings completely. So blessed that it happened and also sad we leave it behind.
Congrats on the house! We will also have a mudroom and I am SO excited about it. But, you know, it’s a lot of feelings. I feel you. xoxoxoxo
“So blessed that it happened and also sad we leave it behind.” This. Exactly.
OH MY GOD yes. I was just thinking of this while shelving books – the people, some well-meaning, some less so, who can’t understand the mixed blessing of your kids growing up. Yes, I KNOW they didn’t die and I still have them, and not everybody does. But those other tiny little people they were, tiny little people I adored with my entire heart and soul and life ARE GONE, and I miss them. I love and admire and take such pleasure in the people they are now, and I am bereft at the loss of the people they aren’t anymore, and THAT IS OKAY. I live with a constant soundtrack of their little baby voices in my mind – “Do I wook cool? Or do I wook a wittle goofy?” ” He put his head to side to side and it was so cute!” “Oh, you maked your dirty corn” – and the relentless linear march of time seems so unfair. And there’s always a tiny bit of guilt about how much I struggled sometimes when they were little – post-partum depression, undiagnosed sleep apnea, husband traveling a lot – like I somehow didn’t maximize my time with them as children. Parenting is so weird and amazing and terrible and wonderful.
Yes to all of this. And sobbing anew at this: “But those other tiny little people they were, tiny little people I adored with my entire heart and soul and life ARE GONE, and I miss them.”
Ugh, the passage of time is … necessary, beautiful and hard at the same time. I mean, so many memories that wouldn’t have been made if it wasn’t for the passage of time… but also, how is it going by so fast??
I feel you. My family moved when I was 10 and I can tell you one thing: Carla will have wonderful memories of the time in the house that she grew up in — and she’ll be excited about the new house at the same time! (Congrats, btw.) It’s all good, Suzanne!
Your description of wanting to feel/see/hear the past moments of Carla’s life is so touching. I, too, get teary around my kids’ birthdays. I cried when L grew out of her newborn diapers. I cried when R finished his daycare and is now starting pre-school. Those early days and sleepless nights and feedings and pumping are so hard and you find yourself wishing them away and then you turn around and the kids are walking and talking and teaching YOU things.
Anyway, congratulations on THE house!
Suzanne! You buried the lede here – YOU GOT THE HOUSE! Hooray! I’m so happy for you!
When I started college, I had these same feelings of being sad about the passage of time. I was scared to move away from home and really sad that the time of being a kid was over. I was excited to grow up, of course, but also very sentimental about leaving such a big era of my life. I think all of these feelings are totally normal and it doesn’t mean you don’t want Carla to grow up – you’re just feeling sentimental! <3
I fully understand the emotion of being Excited and Sad at the same time; it’s a complicated thing leaving the memories of your home In that home and moving forward.
I hope things go smoothly with the new purchase and that you feel so many more positive things after it’s said and done.
I love A League Of Their Own. My girls watched this so many times and it was especially special to us since Lolo played softball from five to 19. In Random News: last week I had a dream that Penny Marshall was a relative of mine, so I might have had a hand in the making of that movie. 😉
First, I’m so glad you got the house. YAY! It will be amazing – and you will get through this.
Reading this post, it struck me how lucky you are to have all the memories you have of Carla at various ages and stages…you get to love her every single day, as she moves through them. And you get to remember them! Of course that will make you emotional – you’re building a mountain of memories of your child. <3
Finally, it has been a long long time since I have watched ALOTO and… I have no recollection of any of the things that made you cry. Yikes. Perhaps it's time for a rewatching…
Thanks, Anne! This is such a lovely perspective.!
And yes, ALOTO held up pretty well I thought! Definitely worth a rewatch.