...it happens...occasionally, it does happen. That moment that most every parent catches themselves in. That moment where, you notice the calm. It's too quiet. That moment when you catch yourself, look around and wonder if your family finally drove off. And then you see them, calmly laying down to watch a movie. A plan completely formulated by them, not done under protest or mandate. For an instant, you feel like the universe is aligned. You feel for just an instant how wonderful to finally get what you needed for that day. In the next instant, you are making a MAD DASH to get anything done, the stuff of your wildest dreams, because you know it's probably only going to last about 19 minutes.
Every Sunday since the new year, we have had "Your Favorite Sunday Dinner". Each week one of the kids pick their favorite meal, and we come together and make it. Some have been extravagant, some have been simple...some have even just been lunch. All have been eaten at our dining room table, with real glasses, napkins, music playing in the background and together. It has been one of my favorite resolutions...and it costs nothing. It's something I look forward to every week, the kids feel like they are getting their favorite foods more regularly (besides the kid food I always make), and everyone is happy.
I'm not sure if my Atticus has been secretly training with the Navy...but every day for almost a week, at 3:30, the kid is up and ready to go. He greets my half open eyelids with the phrase, "...good morning mommy, I'm ready to get up..." To which I tell him that no one who isn't working the third shift is currently awake, please lay down and try to go back to sleep. It's too bad he isn't able to read, he could probably get a part-time job in those early morning hours from his crib. I'm not sure why he's turning tricks so early in the morning. I'm aware that he still naps, and gladly so for his sanity and my own. But, I think we are about to turn the corner on that. I'm hoping for an early spring, and contemplating showing him how to mow the lawn.
The plague has reared it's head very nearly here a couple of times...but, it's latest and most dramatic victim is Nora. She greeted me just after Atticus this morning. As if she were tying out for a role on a soap opera, she looks at me and says, "...when will this ever leave? I want my old life back..." She's been sick for 2 days. Hoping that rest and a visit to who she calls "Dr. Dreamy" will be in order tomorrow. Until then, I just hear dramatic music playing in my head when ever she speaks.
Oscar has taken to listening to ACDC every waking moment. His air guitar and not so quiet drumming teeters between hilarious and obnoxious. I just found him under a robe, ear buds in, singing "Thunderstruck". He approached me with a paper he had recently written for school. A couple of weeks ago I was completely freaked out when he was telling my what he was writing about. I confide probably too much in the Talls, but at times they are my sounding board. I probably should censor some topics that I talk to them about, but I think for me its because there isn't another adult in this house. While reading the paper, I was struck with how interestingly his mind works. He didn't give details to what we had spoken about, but primarily he was writing about how he looked forward to these conversations...hearing the dirt and the funny stories. I told him I would help him start a blog. My only stipulation was that I needed to proof read it before he posted it. He has an interesting take on life, I hope he continues it and uses writing as a creative outlet.
Abe, well today, he has been the ultimate entertainer. It seems as if he cannot be out of Atticus' sight for more than 3 minutes. He has organized a movie marathon in the living room, with blankets, pillows, and used my own personal favorite weapon...the lure of popcorn. I'm not sure how long it will last, but I am using these 19 minutes like they might be my last on earth. Hung some things up, picked up the house, and cleaned the kitchen. He is like a pied piper at times, and I am grateful for it...however, I know about 4 pm, he'll be tired of everyone in this house. Like James Brown, being assisted shuffling off the stage...being the ultimate entertainer takes a lot out of you!
My 19 minutes are up...THUNDERDOME sounds like it is getting started...for a brief and wonderful moment the universe aligned, I got something done, and no one drove away...at least yet.
Sunday, January 25, 2015
Wednesday, January 21, 2015
...little people and lucky pennies...
So, we're 21 days into the new year...and I've made some mental resolutions...some I've kept, some I've already slacked a bit on, and some that I've yet to accomplish. But what's life without goals, really? With every passing year, all one can really hope for is health, happiness, and good fortune. Make those doctor appointments and actually go to them. Get off your butt and get moving. Unclutter those hidden junk drawers. Start saving money for "fun projects". For me, sometimes you have to pay some of those resolutions forward in the process.
I resolved this year to make sure that I let people know what they mean to me. I am beyond fortunate to have people in my life that I honestly couldn't do without. The sun just doesn't shine out my butt everyday on this homestead, despite the impression I might give off. I am grateful to have people that keep me smiling, even when I don't want to. Sometimes these people are my offspring. Their capacity to understand me is greater than I would like at times. I am lucky, grateful, proud, and blessed to have them in my life. At times, it's difficult to remember how our lives once were...I guess that means we are rolling in the right direction and not to question it.
Then there are those people who are not genetically linked to me who keep me smiling. Their ability to mentally bail me out...understand me more than I would have ever been comfortable with before. Their love and thoughtfulness is what has kept me rolling in the right direction, even when I felt like taking a detour. My life is better with them in it and well, thank you just doesn't seem like a heavy enough sentiment...so, I'll just say I'm lucky to get to love you.
Then there are those people who possibly have no idea how much I look up to them. Their ability to lift people up, maybe even me at times, is a characteristic that is like a shiny invisible star. They have no idea how much it glimmers, but to those who need it, it's a light at the end of the tunnel. People like this aren't just a blessing to have in your life, they are like air. They are self aware, confident, thoughtful, caring, and brave. These people are like the blind little person on the campus where I went to college. Now, I'm sure it's highly politically incorrect, but seeing that guy, it was like seeing a chimney sweep, always good luck.
There are those people you can just rant to. You might not talk to them everyday, but when you are half past your rant quotient, they are there ready to listen. Hopefully they can add some fuel to that rant, get you laughing, and you forget what you were pissed about in the first place. People like this are like finding a lucky penny, you pick it up without hesitation.
Life does not guarantee you anything, but knowing love and showing it to others...it's what makes the lack of guarantee not terrifying. We are all put on this earth with a purpose. Most of your life is spent trying to find that purpose. In reality it happens without your knowledge...stop looking for your purpose and appreciate the people that give you a purpose...Happy 2015!
I resolved this year to make sure that I let people know what they mean to me. I am beyond fortunate to have people in my life that I honestly couldn't do without. The sun just doesn't shine out my butt everyday on this homestead, despite the impression I might give off. I am grateful to have people that keep me smiling, even when I don't want to. Sometimes these people are my offspring. Their capacity to understand me is greater than I would like at times. I am lucky, grateful, proud, and blessed to have them in my life. At times, it's difficult to remember how our lives once were...I guess that means we are rolling in the right direction and not to question it.
Then there are those people who are not genetically linked to me who keep me smiling. Their ability to mentally bail me out...understand me more than I would have ever been comfortable with before. Their love and thoughtfulness is what has kept me rolling in the right direction, even when I felt like taking a detour. My life is better with them in it and well, thank you just doesn't seem like a heavy enough sentiment...so, I'll just say I'm lucky to get to love you.
Then there are those people who possibly have no idea how much I look up to them. Their ability to lift people up, maybe even me at times, is a characteristic that is like a shiny invisible star. They have no idea how much it glimmers, but to those who need it, it's a light at the end of the tunnel. People like this aren't just a blessing to have in your life, they are like air. They are self aware, confident, thoughtful, caring, and brave. These people are like the blind little person on the campus where I went to college. Now, I'm sure it's highly politically incorrect, but seeing that guy, it was like seeing a chimney sweep, always good luck.
There are those people you can just rant to. You might not talk to them everyday, but when you are half past your rant quotient, they are there ready to listen. Hopefully they can add some fuel to that rant, get you laughing, and you forget what you were pissed about in the first place. People like this are like finding a lucky penny, you pick it up without hesitation.
Life does not guarantee you anything, but knowing love and showing it to others...it's what makes the lack of guarantee not terrifying. We are all put on this earth with a purpose. Most of your life is spent trying to find that purpose. In reality it happens without your knowledge...stop looking for your purpose and appreciate the people that give you a purpose...Happy 2015!
...phase 3...
Morning two into my mandate of "anyone over the age of 8 must shower daily" and we survived. The first day, you'd thought I had asked them to climb Everest...followed by stopping feet and dirty looks. I was not deterred by it. It felt good. It felt good to see a new phase upon us...not just the one that is seriously a public service to anyone they come into contact with. It's yet another phase of life, forever inevitable, that beckons the feeling of new growth, new stages...Let's face it, these boys while witty and clever, their combined odor could be used as corporal punishment.
I'm not sure if it's normal...but over the last two years, I have measured time by everything that has happened after Jason died. Possibly because we had to sort of pick ourselves up and start over, maybe because we had to find what our "normal" was, which still resembles anything but. In this time measurement my mind also falls back onto the many hours spent in a semi-lit room rocking a 9 month old with a bottle. Those many hours I spent alone with the one person that most resembled the person just that had just been taken from our lives. I would sit there looking at Atticus, wondering how in the world I was going to make any of this work. Terrified. Tearful at times. Timid...I would send out my quiet fears into this room, onto the incomprehensible ears of this child, hoping to figure out what to do next...the next phase.
My life as a mother, unknowingly, has been spent talking. I never realized it until it was pointed out to me that I narrate my every move. Maybe my talking was out of needing someone to talk to when the kids were smaller. Whatever the case, it has made me realize that perhaps I spoke too much. Now, when I am about to tell my kids what I am about to do, I stop myself and think "...just tiptoe away, they'll no doubt come and find you..."
But that narration was feeding little brains a multitude of words that now, while exasperating at times, I have to laugh when I hear my own words said back to me...at least they were listening, right? Nora talking about falling on her money maker to someone at church...Abe commenting to someone on his quiet charm...Oscar, after hearing me complain about nothing, saying "...sounds like rich people problems..." Hearing Atticus yell at Nora from another room, "WE AREN'T LAUGHING AT YOU, WE'RE LAUGHING WITH YOU..."Onto another phase...
So much in that original measurement of time has changed...that little 9 month old that I rocked isn't so little anymore. His communication has become bitter sweet at times. He is in his mimic stage, and his hearing is like that of a jungle cat. Yesterday, when he was giving his 5 reasons why he NEEDED to watch Elmo's Christmas, it all came to me. I sort of longed for those days when I couldn't understand what he was saying, because at least I didn't know if he was telling me off.
I see how much this tiny person has changed. This nearly 3 year old has now lived most of his life with a single mother and three rowdy siblings. He doesn't probably ponder what life once was...and for that I'm sort of grateful. I realized that I now sort of measure time by him. I see him learning, scheming, growing, and he's still in one piece. He understands who is dad is, he remembers stories we've told him about Jason. He knows that our family is unique and not like others, and I see how his siblings step in, unsolicited, and help be that other parent when needed.
I don't think I'm alone in watching how much Atticus has changed. Certainly the Talls enjoy his ability to mimic, hoping dirty limericks aren't on the horizon. He sort of ties us all together for reasons other than the fact that we're family. He's comic relief when needed. He's the hug at the end of the day. He's the one who's not afraid to say "I love you" while accidentally spiting food on you. He's getting ready for another birthday, and we're heading into phase 3...
I'm not sure if it's normal...but over the last two years, I have measured time by everything that has happened after Jason died. Possibly because we had to sort of pick ourselves up and start over, maybe because we had to find what our "normal" was, which still resembles anything but. In this time measurement my mind also falls back onto the many hours spent in a semi-lit room rocking a 9 month old with a bottle. Those many hours I spent alone with the one person that most resembled the person just that had just been taken from our lives. I would sit there looking at Atticus, wondering how in the world I was going to make any of this work. Terrified. Tearful at times. Timid...I would send out my quiet fears into this room, onto the incomprehensible ears of this child, hoping to figure out what to do next...the next phase.
My life as a mother, unknowingly, has been spent talking. I never realized it until it was pointed out to me that I narrate my every move. Maybe my talking was out of needing someone to talk to when the kids were smaller. Whatever the case, it has made me realize that perhaps I spoke too much. Now, when I am about to tell my kids what I am about to do, I stop myself and think "...just tiptoe away, they'll no doubt come and find you..."
But that narration was feeding little brains a multitude of words that now, while exasperating at times, I have to laugh when I hear my own words said back to me...at least they were listening, right? Nora talking about falling on her money maker to someone at church...Abe commenting to someone on his quiet charm...Oscar, after hearing me complain about nothing, saying "...sounds like rich people problems..." Hearing Atticus yell at Nora from another room, "WE AREN'T LAUGHING AT YOU, WE'RE LAUGHING WITH YOU..."Onto another phase...
So much in that original measurement of time has changed...that little 9 month old that I rocked isn't so little anymore. His communication has become bitter sweet at times. He is in his mimic stage, and his hearing is like that of a jungle cat. Yesterday, when he was giving his 5 reasons why he NEEDED to watch Elmo's Christmas, it all came to me. I sort of longed for those days when I couldn't understand what he was saying, because at least I didn't know if he was telling me off.
I see how much this tiny person has changed. This nearly 3 year old has now lived most of his life with a single mother and three rowdy siblings. He doesn't probably ponder what life once was...and for that I'm sort of grateful. I realized that I now sort of measure time by him. I see him learning, scheming, growing, and he's still in one piece. He understands who is dad is, he remembers stories we've told him about Jason. He knows that our family is unique and not like others, and I see how his siblings step in, unsolicited, and help be that other parent when needed.
I don't think I'm alone in watching how much Atticus has changed. Certainly the Talls enjoy his ability to mimic, hoping dirty limericks aren't on the horizon. He sort of ties us all together for reasons other than the fact that we're family. He's comic relief when needed. He's the hug at the end of the day. He's the one who's not afraid to say "I love you" while accidentally spiting food on you. He's getting ready for another birthday, and we're heading into phase 3...
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