...friends, sunshine and fences...

Fences. Some people have emotional, some have psychological and others have independence fences that they yearn to break free from. While these fences are built for protection and security, sometimes they are built for avoidance as it is easier to corral a matter than actually dealing with it head on. Recently, my very eloquent best friend put this whole notion into perfect perspective, begging me to really ponder the idea of merely, testing the fence.

Meanwhile, at the corner of body odor and strange hair growth, I am on the cusp of having a teenager in my midst. It is a young man's yearning for independence while not completely wanting to do everything that is associated with it. The sage advice given to me from multiple people have been filed in my brain, like cheat codes for life. I watch as this once tiny person grow taller than me, voice drops, tastes change and mind grows even further into adulthood. I will never claim to have all the answers or even pretend to know what I am doing at any given moment, but I feel like I'm driving blind into a storm. It is slightly terrifying. My hopeful mantra is that every time I am about to lose my shit, every time I'm wondering what I will ever do correctly by him, every time I'm contemplating the no doubt Karma that I must endure...I need to remind myself that his testing fences, while infuriating, is the healthy and normal.

My fences used to be multiple. Much like the kind you see in pictures of gulags, all barbed wire and menacing. I used them for all of afore mention reasons, but probably most definitely to try to restore some sense of sanity, where there was little found. They were protection, security and avoidance of dealing with life. But as time moved on, the fences came down, and with each one a subtle sense of accomplishment, like a secret badge that only I could see. With every fence I learned something not only about myself but the world around me, and marveling at the view I had closed myself off from. Not seeing what could happen, and worrying about what might happen, is unhealthy and unproductive. With the fences down, I now know more than ever that what I feared on the other side was actually nothing to be scared of. It has given me the chance to know what life could be like and I'm grateful every day.

Fencing or free range? Not on your life, with four kids, free time is where you find it. Sometimes you have to rise before the sun to steal a scant 45 minutes, other times it is the five minutes you allow yourself in the bathroom when your kids thankfully do not know where you are. Even walking through Aldi, I try to time it so that I can have my kids eat lunch in the car while I blissfully, and albeit rapidly, make my way through the isles ALONE. The importance of "kid free time" is something akin to a get out of jail free card while playing monopoly. You know it is in your back pocket, and while you sometimes have to move heaven and earth to make it happen, YOU DESERVE IT. Sadly, I never really understood the importance of this notion until I became a single mom. All of those times that I could have gotten away, and I never used the opportunity, it was a psychological fence I should have crossed, but never made it happen. Oh hindsight, why are you so perfect?

The exhilaration of travel is like jumping a fence while not knowing what is on the other side. It is something that some people have never been lucky enough to experience, while others do it so often it becomes common place. I have been lucky to be able to experience this from a young age. There are some things while on a plane I always notice. The thrust of the engines. The jerk back you feel in your seat when the plane puts up its nose and climbs into the air. The clouds as you rise through them, the beauty of which is never lost on me- the textures/colors/light. It is a sight that probably most take for granted. To me it is a moment when this control freak relinquishes this annoying power and looks out the plane window in awe of the world. But as time has moved on, my experiences dwindled as life did not really allow it. The night before I left I was taking advice from my 18 year old niece as she is a world traveler (a girl after my own heart). The adventure is sometimes in getting where you are going, but you don't want to get there without your underwear or hair gel, you know?

But, every three or so years my mental gulag opens, and my best friend woos my sense of adventure into overdrive. Much like thinking, "Everest? Yeah, piece of CAKE!?" we plan a getaway. This year there were no broken bones the night before thankfully, and my family once again stepped in so that I could make the whole thing possible. Like a NASA space launch, all calculations came together and all of my precious offspring were somewhere so that I could go on a "kid free" vacation with my oldest friend. While connecting all of the dots were painstaking, everything fell into place. My gratefulness to my family cannot be properly put into words, but please know it is very real.

Less like a fence, and more like a small natural stone wall built upon experiences and memories are what I got the chance to have while on vacation with my best friend. The opportunity to experience serious talks, sunshine and meeting strangers. The chance of making memories, laughing, finding new places that you love and talking about loves we are blessed to have in our lives. These kind of times are necessary, needed, priceless and heady. Every three years I've been given the gift to remember where I've been, where I am and where I want to go. This best friend and I have seen each other through some of our worst times, we tell it like it is and champion each other often. Many times on our vacation as we were chatting with strangers, it's our hidden gift, they would ask how we knew each other. We'd tell the story of how we've never lived in the same state let alone the same town. The same thing was mentioned multiple times to us, the concept of friend-soul-mates, our reason for meeting so many years ago was in no way chance.

I actually missed my precious offspring while jumping a fence for excursion, but I needed the therapy of being just myself and not a mom for a few days. I needed the recharge, not only being out of my every day but also being with a person who knows me better than most and picking up where we always leave off. Fences down, fences tested and never a fence on adventure and friendship! Thank you to my family, April and Key West!

...to Graduates, Middle Age and Bucket Lists

It's funny what comes with an upcoming road trip with four kids. The lists have started. The laundry is being washed as we speak. The mental time tables have been made, and we're still a mere seven days out from leaving. The amount of junk that I have piled up in the corner of my room would get me a guest spot on the Dr. Phil Show or at least a prime time spot on the TV show Hoarders. Nearly 13 years I have been traveling with kids to Indiana or destinations beyond. Why is it still an assemblage of cringe just to leave the driveway?

This trip is not necessarily like others we have taken. There will be family, friends and memories to be made, but there will be celebrations. My niece, whom it seems like yesterday she was born, is graduating from high school. I am beyond grateful to be her aunt, noting quite often that I'm not necessarily cool enough to be related. She is this amazing young woman with an awe inspiring drive and sense of adventure and she will no doubt turn this world on its ear. She is wise beyond her years and brimming with the ability to discuss/debate/inform on any topic, and she's not yet 18 years old. It has been an honor to watch her grow up, but the next scene of her life will inspire me and no doubt all of those to which she comes into contact. She and I share the same first name, and I marvel at her thirst for wanderlust. Katherine Grace, I cannot wait to see where life takes you.

This trip is also a celebration of sisterhood, friendship and family. My sister Kelley, is nine years older than me. We shared a room and a bed for the first 10 years of life. She saw me through bed wetting, bras, periods, fashion mishaps and subliminally taught be every song created from 1980-1986. Other than my mom, she has been the other woman I have been blessed to look up to, draw advice from and emulate, if at all possible. She bought me my first album, Huey Lewis and the News, Sports. She took me to my first concert, Chaka Kahn. While she might be turning a very pronounced 50 years old, in my eyes she is still 18, teaching me about green M&Ms, telling me the best way to wrap a class ring and making friendship pins on our stunning rainbow shag carpet in our room at 153 Washington Street.

Sometimes you are lucky enough to find friends you consider family, and the luck comes in the idea that they aren't actually related to you, yet they still claim you. I am blessed with my friend April, of whom I met at the age of 17, on the other side of the world, and we have been friends ever since. While I have worn the "40 Year Young" sash for longer than she, we are heading out to cross off an item on her bucket list. A full on, over the top, blow out, 3 day extravaganza declaring to anyone who is crazy enough to put up with us, "Make 40 Fierce!" I am imagining it akin to Thelma and Louise, except no one dies at the end. Our last no kid, south of the Mason/Dixon Line adventure was far too long ago, we owe it not only to ourselves, but let's face it the world. My goals are to laugh, enjoy a cocktail, tell stories, soak up the sun and make memories with a person that I am REALLY GOOD at making memories with.

For the first time ever, Nora is spending nearly a month away from home. Her brothers are going to camp for a week, and really needed some such adventure of her own. She is heading up to stay with my parents, which is right up her alley as it is a whole new audience to try out her already worn out material that we get to see. She thankfully let me pack her bag for her, as her notion of "hobo-chic" is not something I want shared with the world. Every time she talks to my mom, there are new and wondrous adventures that they have planned with her while she is there. I'm curious if she'll even want to come home. She has to be excited to get some one-on-one time as that is somewhat of a rarity around here. My hope is that any bad manners that I'm trying to get her to stop doing, will be taken care of by July 1. However, I'm sure by then she'll have developed a longing for MASH reruns and nightly popcorn snacks. TOTALLY WORTH IT!

This summer we have a lot to celebrate from beautiful women to bucket lists! I am grateful that I get the chance to take my kids to see their Indiana family, as it doesn't happen every year. My hope that no matter how our two-state-away-stay-cation goes, we can make memories, have fun and get out of the norm if just for a little while. I realize my nostalgia is getting ahead of myself, knowing they'll no doubt remember is the things that go wrong, or they time I yelled at a Burger King Drive-Thru for no other reason than exhaustion...yes, I speak from experience. My wish is that they can see the quality time verses the quantity and take one minute of the entire trip and know that if it weren't for me, the 10 day trip would be really uncomfortable if someone hadn't packed their underwear.

...I come with a posse

Good on paper...have you ever heard this phrase? It is something that I am embarrassed to admit that I have roaming around my head from time to time. Frankly, I am fully aware that if the same concept were used on me, I might not fare well. The notion is so very mind boggling. How can a person be so engaging, witty, stimulating, attractive and seemingly so right in every way, only to realize that they are just "good on paper"?

I was lucky. I met a guy at a frat party and knew a week later that he was the guy I was going to marry. With every date or time spent together, every charming characteristic he displayed, my feelings were solidified that this was the man for me. It wasn't immediate, but six years to the day we met, we got married. Like I said, I was lucky. I was lucky to have loved someone and be able to create a lasting tribute to what we had together, our kids. I found something really wonderful, once. I knew in my heart that I would feel like wanting to find it again, my head and my heart had to meet up.

What makes me an expert? Hmmm, technically I am not, but I have experience. I have dated, married and become widowed only to start the process all over again. That whole phrase, it's like riding a bike? Yeah, well possibly if you were riding a bike, on fire, balancing a vase on your nose, clipping coupons, braiding your daughter's hair and trying to wear heels all at the same time. So many things you looked for in the opposite sex when you were 20-something, doesn't always hold the same luster when you are 40-something. Finding any person you want to spend more than 2 hours with is like discovering the chupacabra. We all have baggage, but trying to navigate or evaluate how many people's baggage you are willing to sort through is a moral dilemma, I'm already traveling as a party of 5... Baggage and underwear for days.

Then there's the double standards. A man loses his wife, he's nearly given away to the next eligible bachelorette. How could he live without a wife? How could he survive? Who would do the laundry? There is a definition in Webster's Dictionary for a woman who loses her husband, she is called a widow. A widower is a man who loses his wife, but they leave out the extent of it. That's because they are to be married off and live out their lives happy, satisfied and not alone. This point is not exaggerated but amplified when a man loses his wife and has children. I quietly thought this to myself in the beginning, figuring I would have to charge the breach of single motherhood and not complain. It took my best friend's southern mother to point out what a colossal load of bullshit that double standard is...and we haven't even gotten to the part of trying to date again.

Now most of the time dating involves a mutual attraction, time spent together and maybe even some steamy things that I don't want to get into, because this isn't a how-to-book. Being a single mother...how does that even get started? I figured I needed to get out of my house before I went postal either on my kids or another random stranger. Where do you go? The gym? Yeah, at the time when I was starting this adventure, that was akin to staying at home with my kids. The grocery store? That's like trying to pick up a guy in church to me, sacred places, sacred places. I wanted to go somewhere I didn't have someone feel bad for my situation. I wanted to start over, like a baptism on my soul, reputation and psyche.

So, I did what any tired adult who just wants to be in a room with other adults does, I went to a bar. Seemed easy. I sat at the bar, bought a drink and just enjoyed not having to do anything pertaining to parenting, I was clocked in to adulting. Being the social person that I am, it wasn't long before I started a conversation with someone. I felt splashy...and began to feel slightly over confident...or was that the cocktail kicking in? Anyway, I felt like I moderately had my shit together. I could do this alone. I play well with others. It wasn't until the fella next to me at the bar thought he would start asking questions when things took a strange turn.

Why can't some people just talk to strangers? I do it all the time. I'm good at it! I have often wondered if I could get paid to just sit in a waiting room to chat with people, if for no other reason than to put their minds at ease or distract them from why they were waiting. Is this even a thing? I am researching this...I could really make some money doing this. Just talk for talking sake, not get all third degree, harsh lamp overhead Law and Order questioning/talking. I suppose imbibing lowers the threshold for common courtesy...its cool man.

"So, what's your story?" That was the epic line I was asked while sitting at the bar.  I thought to myself, well...here's your chance to 'adult'. I thought for a second about making something ridiculous up. Then I figured the truth is actually more ridiculous than a lie. I said, "you wouldn't believe me if I told you..." never really looking at him while I said it, you know for dramatic effect. He persisted. Realizing if I wanted to sit at the bar, I was going to have to shut him up. I turned to him and said, "I'm a 37 year old widow with four kids..." And I gave him a wink. He bought my drink.

But that is only the tip of the iceberg. Turns out as a widow, dating? Yeah, not really socially acceptable when you are ready. Being a widow, you are slightly under a microscope. The people that peer inside of it honestly love you, but the crowd gathers and it makes something quite innocent and simple become fodder for discussion and opinion? Not inviting. Yeah, I'm starting over, I need the pressures of other people's opinion. It was as if I was 16 years old again, so very strange. I felt as if I had to sit before a tribunal to hear the ruling if I were allowed to date...News flash, the jig is up, I already have 4 kids...I'm an adult...I think I know I'm ready. This was from family, friends and people that in reality didn't actually care what I thought. But all of the above were quick to either share, or silently share behind my back. I get it, I got it, everyone has their own process, and I know they were doing it out of love for me, but it was a tough patch to go through. Thankfully, I'm through it. The best advice, although everyone thinks theirs is the best when you would preferably have them shut up, the BEST advice came from other widows. Nine times out of ten, they were easily 40 years older than me, but they got it. They were quick to reassure me that while they had never re-entered the dating world, I was younger, it would be crazy not to. To the Irmas, Alices, Freddys and Peggys out there, thank you for understanding and letting me know that I was okay. I hope to one day emulate you.

Then there is the terror of having kids and dating. Now, truth be told, I would like to be able to convince my children that I am a nun who goes out every other week to bingo...no desire to be social with someone of the opposite sex, no need to have a man in my life what so ever. But, that would be a lie. I feel like I owe it to my kids to be honest, most of the time, and let them see that it is okay to be social with all types of people. Healthy. Natural. My daughter at the age of 4 would be trolling, unknowingly, in the grocery store for men for me. I don't think it is something that they are not ready for. The hold back has been myself. I have met and dated some really amazing men, but I would only allow the relationships to go so far. Dating when you are just single is a completely different ball game, you never have to take into consideration anything but yourself. You never have to wonder, "Wow, good looking, funny and I wonder how he would handle conflict resolution with my four children?" My inner voice always seems to say RUN after a time period. I apologize to those who have felt this first hand. Thankfully, I only have ONE inner voice, and while she is overly verbal, she is indeed slightly crazy...but I'm ready to stop running.

People shouldn't be pigeon-holed into one type...there are so many characteristics that make up people. These are not your typical description of humans. I say humans, because in reality they could be used on a male or female. The fact of the matter is, hindsight would never exist if you could somehow formulate the perfect mate. These are just a few of the types of people I have been lucky enough to encounter...once again, I'm not an expert, I just know what I know.

-The person who picks you up for a blind date with 5 inch platform shoes in the center console of their car...and admits that they are theirs.

-The work-aholic who has never settled down, yearns to relax when they have paid everything they have/want off, slightly shy of commitment not just because it might get in the way of their goals, but also because they know they can't completely give of themselves to someone else.

-The person that you feel really understands you on a political level, only to find out that they are regurgitating everything they hear as their own, believing everything they hear, but only for soundbite's sake.

-The person who is afraid of change and champions mediocrity.

-The person that you feel completes your sense of humor, only to find out that THEY have to tell the jokes and most of what they tell isn't their own.

-The person who intellectually you find compelling because they have a side to them that more than just the surface. They are contemplative and quick witted, only to find out that they love to hear the sound of their own voice and laugh at their own puns and that's just gets old after a while.

-The person who does it all, or wants to do it all and doesn't ask what you really need in the process. Leaving you feel ungrateful for no reason.

-The person that started with a crush, even the fact that they are talking to you seems like you are taking the forbidden fruit. You worry that if something is too good to be true, and pray it isn't.

-The edgy person, interesting and clever, pulls you into what they are talking about, like you are driving by an accident on the highway and can't turn away. But they only tell you tidbits of a story, leaving you wondering if the part they left out had anything to do with spending the night in prison.

-The person who is a free spirit and a brilliant mind, but is immediately terrified when anything resembles a routine.

No one is perfect, most certainly NOT myself. I come to the table with an interesting array of hang-ups, routine and priorities that, let's face it, might be too much for anyone. But, the moment when I find that special someone, you can bet that despite all that I have listed above, I will be the best partner one could have. Because I love fiercely, freely and profoundly and I'm finished running...and luckily for them, I come with a posse.

...short girls...

"Remember, no man is a failure who has friends." ~ It's a Wonderful Life

 

They are the people who lift you up. They are the people who call you out when needed. They are the people who stand by you through thick and thin. Friends. Whether you have known them all of your life, or only for a blip of where you currently reside, friends are the family that requires no bloodline. Friends are the people that you are blessed to have in your life. Friends are the ones who make sure you are okay after peeing your pants.

I am blessed. Every morning when I wake up, no matter how sleep deprived or crummy I feel, I sit up in bed and think, I am blessed. The silver lining of what I have been through is friendship, some were reaffirmed while others popped up wonderfully unexpected. While life sometimes hands you things you would rather not touch, there are these people that stand by you and help you through. I am blessed to have the friends that I do. More locally, I am blessed with these particular two women, who without which, I would be miserable. My life is fuller, my sanity is intact and my heart wells for these two women, my short girls...it is not a slight, we're all just short.

When you have kids, you can only hope for them. You hope they succeed. You hope they make good choices. You hope they have caring friends. Boys will be boys, but I worry about Nora when I think of friendships. Will she meet people who can see how unique she is? Will she make a friendship that makes her a better person, instead of try to conform her? Nora is an old soul, which is the best way to describe her. She doesn't have to be a leader, nor does she have to follow. She's not big on standing out, but also doesn't feel the need to conform. This makes finding a friend circle difficult. She talks about the boys she plays with at school, but never the girls. She has confidence in herself so maybe worrying doesn't really matter. Then last week something happened that struck my friendship heartstrings...

Picking her up from school, I noticed that she was wearing different pants. Oh my, I thought to myself, that cannot be good. My mind raced trying to remember if I had ever wet my pants at school...nope. Once in the house, I asked her what had happened, and she said she just couldn't wait the five minutes the substitute teacher asked of her. Five minutes? I couldn't wait that long if I had to go! I ushered her to my room to take a shower. I asked her if she had gotten upset, to which she quickly changed the subject to how much she loved the dry pants they gave her to wear...okay?

My phone notified me of a message. It was from my friend, one of the short girls, saying that her son was very worried about Nora and was checking to see if she was okay after being upset at school. Wow. My eyes almost welled up as let Nora know that her friend wanted to know if she was okay. The look on her face was priceless...in that moment I knew, I didn't have to worry (at least for now) about the friends she had at school. She clearly is making good choices.

Why am I writing this? You only have this one life, and if you aren't filling it with people that will check on you after peeing your pants...well, then you aren't living it to the fullest. Here is to the people I'm blessed to call a friend, a sister and undoubtedly a short girl...you make my life better, and I just wanted to thank you.

...dare to dream...

With my "Wildcat Blue" bag packed, I was ready to start off on this new adventure...a job.
Manic is the best way to describe how I felt before starting this job, ask anyone who I'm close with, they'll more than likely attest that I was the closest they've seen near crazy in a while. The chance to start over again is thrilling and terrifying...the chance to do something that I enjoy is indescribable. It's more than just a job, it's a job doing what I like to do, but never been paid.

To grasp the ability to understand that you are being given a chance in a world where you thought you knew what your roll would always be, possibly downplaying it as just what you do...as if being a mom wasn't really a job worth bragging about. The night I found out I was offered this job position, I thanked my kids. When they found out they cheered, hugged and high fived me. I was grateful for their support, probably needing it more than I really wanted to mention to them. After telling them thank you, Nora turned to me and said, "...mom, you make all of our wishes happen, now it's time to make your own wishes happen". To which Abe said, "...wow, Nora...that's deep".

The fact that I'm out of my house, well it's funny to me that I'm getting paid to enjoy it. I noticed after my first two weeks working, it's nice to actually have a name...and people use it. Hearing a child say mom, momma, mommy, MOM...being at work was like a break from reality. Sitting at a computer being slightly terrified about my lack of technical ability, being asked to do things that didn't entail making a meal, snack, cleaning a mess, or breaking up a fight...closely resembles paradise. The chance to do something that I have dreamt of doing at first made me worry, what if it didn't live up to the dream?

The women I work for and with are remarkable. Young, talented, creative, thoughtful, clever and dedicated are how I would describe them. While I am older than they are, they are no doubt teaching me more than they will ever know, besides literally teaching me how to everything else. I'm impressed by their passion for their job, and their understanding of the college we work for. They have seriously eased me into going back into the realm of the work force, and my gratitude to them is unfailing. I'm only hopeful that someday I can keep up with them.

My decision to go back to work always weighed on the notion that the right job will come along when it is time. I knew eventually, if I was patient something would come along. I seriously feel like it was an opportunity given to me that I couldn't pass up. I'm starting to realize that life sometimes gives you things to possibly reward where you've been. I have an ongoing joke with a wonderful friend that she and I are "shit creek" survivors. As if it were some actual destination that we stumbled into and we've slowly been trying to find out way out of it. I feel like the opportunities that I have today, I probably would never have been given if I hadn't had to wade through the creek a while to learn a few things out about myself and life.

Even though it's not how I planned my life to end up, I'm so glad I am where I am today. My silver linings, lucky for me are more visible now than ever. My friends-who've seen me through shit creek, thank you. You have given me the courage to keep going, your willingness to help me make this all work, and your love that I cherish. My kids, even if the pre-teen-terror has started- thank you for showing me who I can be, believing in who I am, and reminding me how grateful I am to be your mom. The fact of the matter is, sometimes you have to dare to dream...take the dare, and enjoy the adventure.

...a bat in the house sucks...

...constant: regularly recurrent; continual; persistent...

 

There are a few things in everyone's world that are a constant...something you can always rely on happening, cringe worthy or not. These are a few of mine...

 

...only being 'alone' when you are cleaning the house...the only time no one cares where you are...
 

...some child always walks in when you are putting on/taking off your bra
 

...brothers always pick on sisters
 

...raising boys, you are bound to have to tell someone to do something with their penis
 

...raising girls, you are bound to have to tell them that they are over accessorized
 

...drama will always follow wrestling...
 

...creativity is beautiful, but not on the kitchen floor...
 

...laundry is the never ending job of a mother...
 

...knowing 'nothing' as a mother is perpetual and persistent
 

...seeing pain in your kids eyes is never easy...
 

...a 3yr. old's ability to speak openly, and while you may be used to it, no one else ever is...
 

...explaining why you have the body parts you do to a child...
 

...a bat in the house sucks...
 

...brushing teeth isn't a chore, it's a necessary life skill...
 

...responsibility looks great until you have it...
 

...game night is always looked forward to...
 

...no one ever turns down a doughnut...
 

...boys rooms always smell like a science lab...
 

...tampons are not toys...
 

...kids will repeat everything they hear...at the worst possible times...

Then there are those constants that you take for granted. Those things that inevitably happen, but remind you that there is purpose in life. These moments are what lift you up when you are down...put a smile on your face when you want to cry...revive a weary soul at the end of a day. These are a few of mine...

...listening to a child read for the first time...

...hearing someone say I love you...

...watching four kids dance around the living room to Lawrence Welk...

...laughing with friends...

...having someone understand your flaws...and still appreciate you...

...watching your kids nurture each other...

...knowing your kids are going to be amazing humans...even if they're wearing an orange jumpsuit...

...knowing someone who can make you smile with your eyes

...watching your kids become independent...

...everyone eating their dinner...

...traditions everyone wants to keep...

...looking at someone and feeling blessed to have them in your life

...watching a plan, one you've obsessed about in your head, actually work...

...when opportunity arises, no matter if you are ready, go for it

...understanding that life can prove you wrong over and over again

While some of these constants you wish would go away, others are there to show you that you hope they never do. The unvarying occurrence is something you can depend on, when you have little else to depend on. Life is full of things you might not be ready for, at least you can depend on your constants.












 

...those fellas are trouble...

...why the hell did I schedule this appointment so damned early? It was a reflex I guess. Still, even before 8 am, I find it oddly soothing in the orthodontist's office. It's a time I can catch up on social media, reading and sort of tuning out...all the while the kids are entertained by the kiddie table. I can't be certain, but I think the receptionist has grown to love us. The volume changes when we walk in the door. Today I made sure to reinforce the notion, "...do you see how picked up this area is? When we leave it should look the same way..." But in all honesty, I didn't really care. It's just the sort of public-service-announcement that has to be said when you walk into a quiet office with what would appear to be four contestants on Lets Make A Deal...

While my best friend was visiting last week, we discussed... a lot. We have these chat sessions all the time, but when we are together, they seem to be more intense. We talked about where our lives were going. What we felt we wanted to do next. How our lives had changed. She reminded me that not two years ago, we sat, at times crying, but still discussing the same things...boldly (perhaps naively) thinking that we'd have it all figured out by now. But, the harsh reminders are, when you think you have one thing figured out, everything else grows and changes around it. Some of the things you worry about, while they are no longer on the surface anymore, they sort of morph into something different. I told her that I wished I could talk to Jason sometimes. I found it interesting that she asked me why? So, I told her that I wanted to talk to him sometimes to ask him if I was doing things right or what I should do next. Her answer will never leave my memory...She simply said, "...what could he tell you that you don't already know yourself? Why would he have all the answers? I think you might be giving him too much credit..."

I had to hold back a chortle today when someone asked pointing at the kids, "Are they all yours?" Now, in all honesty, in the summer, these kids look very different from each other. We have a wide variety of skin tones represented. I told someone the other day that my kids resemble a UNICEF advertisement. Nora answered first, "those fellas are trouble (pointing to her brothers, strangely sitting very quiet next to each other)"  I turned around and said, " Those kids? Yes, every minute of every day...unless they were touching the mannequins, in which case I've never seen them before in my life..." As a mom, I constantly question where they are emotionally. I worry I am not maybe giving them the support they need when they freak out and do something completely asinine...I question what I  need to do. I guess if I didn't I wouldn't be doing my job...

But, I'm beginning to realize that their antics might not have anything to do with the reality they've been given. It might just be that they are kids. Is it wrong that I find that oddly reassuring? I got a little sass talk the other day from one of the Talls, and it dawned on me, PRAISE JESUS, THEY'RE JUST BEING ANNOYING KIDS and nothing more. I actually started laughing. It was exciting to me that my "precious-gifts", this time being represented as an annoying 11year old, was not having an actual emotional crisis...he was just being a kid. And I'm beginning to realize that there no oracles on parenting. There are no books that can really help, because no one has all of the answers. For once, in a very long time, while knowing who my kids are, being clueless as to what they are going to try to pull next is just the kind of simpleminded cocktail that I will take...on a side note, laughing at a dramatic tween is actually kind of fun.

...this week I was paid in moments

...I've been on a dead run for about a week. All of it was exciting. Old friends caught up with and family visited. Fun times were had...except for white knuckle driving through every storm that passed through the Midwest...But never-the-less on the go for a long stretch.

While I was home, I was blessed to be able to see two girlfriends I haven't seen in a long time...together we sat, had a cocktail, and caught up on our lives. We talked and laughed and walked down memory lane, as if no time had passed. We reconnected started up where we left off, and it was not only good for the heart, but good for the soul. I realized while we were sitting there that these sort of friends are possibly the best ones you can have in life. While we are a little older, a little wiser, and understand more about life than we did when we were 20, we still get each other. I drove off in my car afterward smiling. Smiling because of how much fun I had. Smiling because of how much I missed them. Smiling because I just remembered how fun it was to have them in my life...for a moment I felt 20 years old again.

The ending of this whirlwind week was seeing two really fantastic people get married. It has been a couple of years since I've been to a wedding. You forget all of the things that go along with it...the family, random people wanting to drink free booze, the stresses of wanting to make sure everything is perfect. This wedding gave all of that, but the best part was it was beautiful. Not beautiful in an overdone, flashy sort of way. It was beautiful because it was simple, understated, and was all about the two people deciding to spend the rest of their lives together. It was beautiful because you knew that in these people's heads, if they were the only two people in the room, that would have been enough. It was beautiful because they didn't need anything more than each other...I was just lucky enough to witness it, lucky to be a part of their special moment.

By Sunday afternoon, I finally hit the wall, I was mentally exhausted, feeling like I was on a cold medicine buzz without the medicine. Finally, all I could do was just wait the clock out until bedtime...and the TV remote was actually in my hand. In this house that is no small victory. I turned it to the Hunger Games. I'll be honest, I've seen it, but I need story line support because I'm not sure I've ever gotten the chance to watch it all the way through. Oscar was in the room with me and asked if we could watch it all the way through. Mentally beat down, I tried to tell him that it was going to be pretty late before it was over, and the kid has seen this movie about 187 times as it's one of his favorites. There was about a 14 minute pause in the conversation with us, and then he says, "...the reason I want to watch it is because I want to watch it with you..." I suddenly woke up.

This kid watches a lot of movies, I mean A LOT. He is pretty versed at who the directors are and has read up on their methods. I think movies are his escape from anything that ails him and I can appreciate that and his desire to know more about them than just what you're shown. So, I was busy asking questions here and there because I tend to get lost in movies as I rarely get to see them in their entirety here. The next thing I know, he moves from the chair across the room and sits down next to me on the couch...unheard of. We are watching the movie, telling anyone who wants to reenact THUNDER DOME to leave the room, and I realize that we are having a rare moment. We are interacting in a way that isn't son/mother, it's friends. That hasn't happened in a while. I turn to him and say, "...you know, I'm very sorry that there isn't more of me to go around. I'm sorry that I'm outnumbered and I don't always get to give you the time you deserve..." He said, "...I know, it's okay..." I said, "no it's not, it sucks..." He said, "...yeah, but that's the way life is sometimes..."

For a moment I was sort of dumbfounded that he got that. For a moment I wondered if he knew what he was saying or just regurgitating something I've probably said to him. But in that moment I realized that sometimes you just have to catch these special moments when you can. Whether it be something you experience or something you witness, you can't recreate them. You can't make them happen even if you will them so to do. The beauty of these moments, are the glimmer of security you get from them. The fact that you can go back to them when you are feeling like you're mentally hitting the wall on your day or even your life...this week I was paid in moments...

...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!

...plate spinners...

There has been a whirlwind around my head for the last couple of weeks...at times even the "silver" in the silver lining gets a little grimy. It's times like these when my grief usually hits the hardest. It's times like these where I lose sight of how far we've come. It's times like these knowing that there is no Band-Aid to fix what has me down. It's times like these that knowing the only way to get over it is to go through it. Well, it makes climbing Everest look like a cinch.

There will never be a time when I am NOT OUTNUMBERED...the sooner I can just get that through my damned head, the easier my life will be. At times I worry though that some fraction of these kids will just unionize and I will be screwed. I worry that I'm going soft. The hardest battles won are the ones you know there is no definitive winner. These lessons in life will make us stronger, right? These times will help us appreciate what we have, where we've been, what might lie ahead...that's when I'm mentally looking for my white flag, turning tail and running.

We are odd. We are an odd number. We have an odd life. We handle life's problems in our own way, but they are usually bookended by popcorn and a soda, or a cocktail for me...we're not like everyone else. I've heard a lot in the last few weeks the phrase, "...well, so-in-so's mom doesn't do that?" Mentally, I break down hearing that a little. Mentally I want to verbally charge with something like, "...yeah, well so-in-so has a dad too..." I know it's futile. I know it won't really change the argument equation that has been given to me. I guess I should take that sort of statement as an encouraging sign, they don't even see our differences amongst their friends, and maybe that's my cue to stop doing it too.

So, this November 7th, we got out of town. I mentally needed it. The kids needed out of our normal scenery, and just do something...and if it was fun, well that would work too. As I said, the weeks up to this year's anniversary were harder than last year. I struggle with feeling outnumbered, worn out, and never quite feeling like I'd done anything right. I know I'm too critical of myself, but when you fold a couple of your critic's underwear, you can easily get sucked in. I know it won't always be this way. I know how far I've come and how much further I have to go. But it's overwhelming to think at times, did I really want to do this? And then I remember, I didn't have a choice. Get over it...

I think I understand more this year than I did last. I think I feel like life has changed and it will keep changing, sometimes I'll like what I see and sometimes it will terrify me. I know that my day to day is a balancing act, like that guy at the circus spinning the plates...but I have help. I know I'm where I am by people loving me enough to keep me going. Those here with me who can call me on my shit. Those who continually remind me that I'm allowed to be mad. Lastly, those who remind me that we've made it this far and we're all still alive. These people are who have helped me, these people are the ones who have loved me when I've been crazy. These people, I wouldn't be able to live without.

It came to me the other night, and I wished I had grabbed a pen. It was as if I had this epiphany about where I am in this world and where I want to go. Of course in the light of day, it doesn't sound so profound, must have been the cold medicine. Despite how some might view what life has given me, and at times I have to even remind myself, I'm so very lucky. I was given a chance to be part of another person's life, create four lives, and I still get to keep living. I still get a chance to live a full life, watching these beings Jason and I created. Despite the fact that he's not here, and at times it saddens me that he isn't seeing all that I am seeing...he will never be replaced. He lives on through our kids. The rest of my life here on earth will just be enhanced with hopefully more blessings, love, and friendships.

These enhancements are my polish for when my silver lining needs it. While two years has seemed like ten, looking back I know how far we've come. I know we've got a long way to go. But I also know we've been blessed by people coming into our lives...Those plate spinners...for whom I am grateful.

Clapton, Marley, and Muddy Waters...

I've never been about a pity party, never. Life gives us what it does and I'm all about trying to find the silver lining. It sounds trite, naive, and not in touch with reality I'm sure. But, it's how I've come to live, not because it's easy...not because it's fun...not because it always even works. It's my coping mechanism. If for a brief moment you can try to make yourself believe at the darkest of hours that indeed the sun will come out tomorrow. You're still playing the game of life and at times you feel like you've got things figured out. But when REAL questions about life come up, you realize you don't know shit about shit.

When it was time to plan Jason's funeral, I'll be honest, I didn't want to. I had just spent days without sleep, cried until nothing even came out of my eyes anymore, and had to tell my kids that their father would never be coming back. I wanted to crawl in bed, pull the covers over my head and just be alone...even though I felt more alone than I ever had before. However, that's not how life worked. There were details to be worked out, flowers to be ordered, and a proper good-bye had to be planned. It was comforting that the funeral director is a friend of ours, and he understood me from the minute I started talking, even though I felt like a zombie. I told him, I wanted this to be a celebration of a person. I wanted this, even though it was sad, to somehow have people smiling. Let's not put the focus on missing Jason, but rather celebrate the person he was.

Jason loved music. The funeral director tapped into every song Jason had ever posted on Facebook and sort of made a "Jason Soundtrack". It was eclectic, fun, and a thoughtful representation of who Jason was. I still find it funny that people would come up to me to give their condolences and say, "...did I just hear the 'Humpty Dance'?" The Beastie Boys, Marvin Gaye, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Clapton, Marley, Muddy Waters, Phish...they just kept playing. There were some songs that brought tears and others that I couldn't help laughing at, I mean we were in a funeral home. The point is, I've prided myself since that day that there is beauty in everything, laughter after tears, the gift in knowing someone even if they are no longer here.

When a child asks why bother praying? What did she do to deserve this? Why does God hate her? That's when the old stand-by answers don't even exist anymore. These are valid questions, they deserve valid answers. These are the times when any pity I have, always goes to my kids. It isn't fair to have to explain the theory of life to a five year old. It seems pointless to try to tell her anything more than the fact that she unknowingly is this unbelievable gift I was given, despite the fact that her father is no longer here. He is still a part of her, and she can connect with him at will...but her little brain and humongous heart can't connect with that...and I don't blame her.

When life is more real than anything going on around you, it's slightly isolating. No one really understands exactly what you are going through, because they aren't living it. I am very fortunate to have people. I am fortunate to have people that even though they understand me, they know they will never understand what we are going through. And they are okay with that, because just knowing they are there is my consolation. My struggle is knowing that no matter how hard I try, some of my explanations will never be consoling. That's REAL LIFE...and some days, there just aren't any silver linings. But there's always Clapton, Marley, and Muddy Waters...

...idiot light...

Being laid up for a week, I understand how people can become slightly addicted to the Hallmark Channel. Their stories, and maybe it's the hydrocodine talking, are all rather similar to mine. That character, who is down on their luck...in a small town...learning the ropes...and Harry Connick Jr. is their neighbor...it's just like my life...the meds seemingly kicked in. But there I was, not used to laying in bed having someone else do my job for me. It tripped me out. All of my triggers were tripped and while I was icing down my new hip, possibly enjoying these moments of solitude...I was trying not to have a nervous break down.

One friend boldly mentioned to me "...in 4 months, when all you want to do is walk into your bedroom and shut the door, you'll miss these days." She's probably right. Hearing the nightly noises that I usually hear first hand through a baby monitor from the other side of the house, it felt eerie. Depending on people-trigger. Letting go of control-trigger. All the while having to remind myself that a break from life now meant a new lease on life later. More over, looking forward to not being physically broken down like some old car that has 3 idiot lights glaring on the dashboard...low fuel, turn signal light out, service engine soon...

Having to physically slow down taught me a lot. Having complete strangers attaching monitor probes to my most personal regions taught me more. It seemed that about the time I finished telling one person wearing medical scrubs my personal history, I was having to turn around and tell another one. Every word coming out of my mouth probably disconcerting to them. At this point I tell what has been a rather emotional story more or less in a matter-of-fact manner...it's just been my life, as common as the gray hairs on my head.

Every time I was forced to hear the words coming out of my mouth, sort of put into perspective for myself how far I've come. In the past at this hospital, I was never the one wearing the backless gown. I was never the one being probed. I was never under the scope...I was always sitting next to the bed of the person who was. Quickly, very quickly, I became more aware of all I had to lose...all I had to live for...those four reasons I can't walk into my bedroom in the middle of the day and shut the door.

I stressed for weeks that this surgery was no big deal to my kids...mind over matter? Maybe. More like 'someone who is going to this hospital and will indeed come back home' is probably more where my head was. I didn't want to impart any unnecessary fear in them...and maybe at the same time reassure myself. I've never had a surgery. I didn't know what to expect. I had plenty of people reassuring my that this thing would be a breeze...the two people would tell me some horror story of how they caught staph infection...well, that's reassuring.

So, now I'm a week and some change out of surgery and I'm doing better than I had expected. The mere act of shaving one's legs is life altering at times (clearly I'm easily pleased) and in four days my staples come out. It's crazy to think of what my body went through in such a short amount of time. However, it's crazier for me to think of what my mind went through in these last few weeks. I have a new appreciation for those I didn't get to take care of for a bit...and an understanding that you could never be a failure by letting people help you when you need it...they're just trying to help you turn your idiot light off...

...fight the power, not Jim Bauer...

Not sure if it was what I thought might be a rouge dirty diaper, which turned out to be a dead mouse? Or a crying Nora, coming to me to tell me that she was scared to go to heaven? Or the emotional charge that has been slowly filtering through this house for the last week? Like running your stocking feet around carpet in the winter, waiting to get shocked...There was no way around it, today was Father's Day whether we liked it or not...

I can’t help my hormonal tendencies, but it seems like Nora is now on board my crazy train as well… There are only so many emotional outbursts I can take, especially when I know I'm not really making a dent in the questions/concerns she has. About the time I think I've resolved something that is troubling her, in an instant she has another. Currently it's warts, pink insulation, scars, and not wanting to go to heaven...at least for this week. I'm grateful she willingly brings these issues up, yet stunted how quickly she can acquire them...

But the ones that really drive me crazy are those that never make it to the surface, sitting just below the skin, brewing. I can change the subject. I can direct the conversation in a million different ways…all in the hopes that my kids don’t remember Father’s Day is coming. I talked about it at different times, never really trying to make a big deal out of it…I guess sort of wanting to leave it up to how they feel…

Well today, there was little left for interpretation. They asked if we had to leave the house, meaning go to church. They made some rather valid points...stating we would go to church and hear all about how it's Father's Day. I think one of the Talls actually said, "...yeah, that sounds like fun?" We laid on my bed, sort of taking turns getting teary. The boys couldn't tell me why "exactly". Atti just kept looking me in the face saying, "...you crying? Mommy crying..." as if I needed reminding. Nora, it was a heaven/wart combo. I laid there wondering...wow, these kids are screwed on this holiday. They have grandfathers that they love, but it's what they are missing, the void, that can't really be filled.

They lay around me, and I can't help but hurt for them. I can't help but think of a word that I hate, fair. I hate that word. It's usually a word someone uses when they have no real notion of what it means. They use it, and then wish to gain sympathy from it. Someone who really understands what it means, very, and I do mean VERY rarely uses it. I fought my urge to just roll over and let this day kick us in the can. We weren't going to let it tell us what or how we should do things today. Of course, this is total lip service to my brain, but I just kept reminding myself of it.

I faltered a bit, as I was scanning the channels on the TV next to Oscar and I uttered, "...this is complete bullshit, let's go to church..." He sort of snickered. Hopefully, that's never embroidered on a pillow for me...not my proudest moment. The Talls were like oracles. Everything they said we would have to hear was dead on, though interestingly enough it was parlayed into a discussion of the World Cup. I started playing with Atti's toys, then counted everything in front of the church, twice. I actually thought about the hill just above our church. How going down it, screaming the whole way? We needed something like that today...the release! I got us to church. Get through church. Leave out the side door when it was over and get on with the day. I needed to turn it around somehow...we just needed to have FUN, any kind would do.

The pool...it was like some magic drug. It was like that water washed off all the crap we'd been carrying around for the last week. Jumping in, splashing around, seeing friends, feeling the warm sun on your skin...it was our release. It was finally something I could do...to finally turn this day around. They found a tree frog. They named him. They begged to take it home with us, carrying it around like some pocket pet they've had for years. It was nice to see them excited about something so simple...it was nice to see them really smile.

Only later, when I was I reading a friend's Facebook status, did I completely understand how to tackle this day from this point forward. Simply stated it said,

"...I say we re purpose Father's Day and Mother's Day...just call it Family Time...that's what it really should be"

Thank you so very much...

 

 

...the only thing we have to fear...

Doubt. Dread. Uneasiness. Concern. Fears. They are an inevitable consequence of being alive I suppose. There are ones you are willing to admit. There are ones you share with hundreds of others. There are those that you, if you are lucky, have succumbed. And then, there are those fears that never really go away...those anxieties that you would never want to openly mention, as it might make you look weak and feeble.

I found out earlier this month that I will get to have a hip replacement at the end of the summer. At this point, I've considered just laying in the street at times and paying anyone to do it. It's tiresome, depressing, and painful to not be able to keep up with daily life. I feel like a 75 year old trapped in a 38 year old body. My fear, looking weak, is no longer masked by me pretending to feel okay. I limp and hobble, and all sorts of other unattractive things to try to keep step with four kids. While I welcome this surgery, it means a summer of trying to really have a lot of fun with my kids, as I will be laid up for a while afterwards.

I know what feeling powerless is like. The closet door on my 'control issues' has been removed by it's hinges. Though there I sit, in the doorway, delusional enough to think that I can stay inside this doorway and life will always work out like I plan. I'm not going to lie, it's my 'pacifier'. At times I wonder if it's a blessing or a curse to know just how fast life can change, and there's not one thing you can do about it. On one hand, I feel like owning that notion will make me less apt to taking things for granted. On the other hand of that notion, I feel like I have to be 'readied' at any moment for the bottom to fall out. I over compensate when it comes to parenting. Here comes a big truth: I perpetually live in fear that I've only got one shot to get it right, that's a healthy mindset, right? And they only have me- heaven help them. I only hope one day, while they are siting around having a cocktail together and talking about how crazy their mother was, they'll at least remember that she was also perpetually outnumbered. I'm not worried about Nora, she has life pretty much figured out...the other day the Talls got into some trouble. I walked away from them and bumped into Nora, and she looked at me and said, "Your soothing spa treatment is ready, it's time for your day off..."

I worry about a summer going by and no one learns anything. I'm odd, I know. I feel like it's the perfect time to not only do something fun, but discover a hidden talent, pick up a new hobby, enjoy a more dangerous chore...Weed-wacking? Clearly something we are going to have to work up to. Lawn mowing? The Talls are all a contradiction when it comes to this. On one hand they tell me they know what they are doing, suddenly they can't do it, they don't know how. It was interesting, each of them at different times in different places said that exact same thing to me this morning. I looked at them and said, "...well, that's awesome! You won't be able to say that tomorrow..." A comeback I will never forget, thank you.

Facing another fear a couple of months ago...I asked for help. I entered a home improvement contest by submitting an essay. I have to admit, it was sort of therapeutic to put down in words why I needed help, I think because it felt anonymous. I never in a million years figured my collection of words would be picked as a finalist...I mean come on, I'm asking for help? Fast forward a few months, hundreds of family and friends support...and I won. It was overwhelming. It was heart tugging. It made me more grateful than ever for the people I am blessed to have in my life. Those I see regularly, and those, thanks to social media, I haven't seen in years. It reminded me the fear I have about countless things I have no control over, doesn't have to exist when you have others to lean on...they are your life's silver lining. Knowing me, I won't want to literally lean on them, but knowing they are there is like a magic want to the psyche...

...the rookie mistake...

Snuggled under a blanket on the couch with Atticus. He turns to me  and says something, putting his head on my shoulder. I speak his language, but the kid is hard to decipher. To the untrained ear it sounds like, "...blah, blah, blah..." I turned to him and said, "...did you just say you're so pretty?" He looks at me and plain as day he says, "...No, I said I have a boogie. See?" Rookie mistake, right?

All day long the phrase has been in my head. So, to end the evening like I did wasn't happenstance. It got me thinking of the 'rookie mistakes'. They are at times hard lessons to learn, and at times they are possibly our greatest blessings in disguise. They can happen at any time, bouncing in to secretly shape and form who we are or who we will become. I think about the 'rookie mistake' I made sitting next to a guy at the first frat party I ever went to...it wasn't a mistake. It was my fortune yet to be unearthed. Four kids later, I'm grateful for that frat party, and the After Shock that was being consumed by some. That rookie move shaped who I was in an instant, and I am forever in his debt.

Being overly verbal, rookie mistake? Maybe, but I can carry on a conversation with all of my kids, even the one I only understand. They get a joke, and can deliver a punch line...If that's wrong, I don't want to be right. New found rookie mistake? Grounding two boys might actually be as much punishment for me as it is for them. I'm out numbered 24 hours a day, how would I have known? We are in the final stretch of said punishment, the light is glimmering at the end of the tunnel. While they have driven me NUTS, I feel like they have truly learned a lesson. So, we'll call it a draw.

Catering to my kids whims? Rookie mistake. I think I have hidden under the guise of 'choose your battles, or just avoid them completely'. I'm here to tell you, that's bull shit, and I now know it. I have created a diva of a monster, who has literally been quoted saying, "...I cannot eat peas (or anything green), they make me shiver..." Her mini-cohort also has an arsenal of tricks. The tiny terrorist won't eat, throws a fit, telling you he's leaving the table. But, if you completely ignore him, he bores himself into eating. Who's rookie mistake is that? (insert evil laugh here)

Then there comes the trinity of rookie mistakes that every parent makes. I'm no different, and they wouldn't matter at all if I wasn't doing this alone. So, these are named ÜBER ROOKIE MISTAKES. Mine are as follows: Not asking for help. Freaking out (on myself and my kids). Over planning, and being scared to meander off said plan. I've been told my house could possibly resemble a Nazi camp...not proud of that. Now, like I said, these aren't really that big of a deal...but, when you are the only drinking age adult in the house? They can add up QUICK. Here is where the "Mental Jenga" comes into play, and sometimes I just don't have it in me. Stock up on the Ginkgo Biloba and hope for the best?

Putting myself out there, after losing Jason, rookie mistake? Hardly. I have been reminded of some of my greatest friendships from 20 years. Most importantly how very lucky I am and  how very valuable they are. I have been so very blessed to have new friendships. Some people I've known, some I have met out of my new circumstances. Letting these people in who love me and all of my flaws, and at times can even toast them! I'm grateful to all of the above who have reminded me of not only who I can be, but what they see in me.

Lastly, the start of blog writing, rookie mistake? What started out as just a way to not seek therapy or get a 'club card' at a liquor store, has become a great release. I did however make a rookie mistake taking the first offer to get it published. It was a scary concept, thinking this may be my only chance. This was on my bucket list. And when it fell through, it was bitter sweet. However, it forced me to go back and read...and edit...and remember. Remember what I've learned. Realize how much we have all grown. And finally, know that even a rookie mistake can be the beginning of something adventurous...

...the vaguely awesome cover band...

There's something about leaving your familiar surroundings and changing it up a little. I never used to be this way. I would rarely go out, voting for mom wear, watching TV on a Saturday night. Home is where it's comfortable, right? I'm not sure if it's because I'm out numbered here. I'm not sure if it's because I don't have enough adult interaction during my day to day. I've said it before, and I'll continue to say it...sometimes you have to go away for a little while to appreciate where you are...

This could mean a multitude of things. Mentally checking out? Yeah, I'm guilty of that at a certain time of day. At times about 45 minutes before I actually should. Sometimes it's getting engrossed in a project that is special to you. Sometimes it's closing the door, turning off the light and being able to hear nothing more than the sound of your own breathing. Then there are those times, when you have to get out of your mom gear. Jason used to always ask, "...who are you getting all dolled up for?" I used to say it was for him. But really, it was for me. You slap on a little make-up. Wear your high heels. Get out of your house and look forward to not only being with friends, but also talking to complete strangers.

Mingle with the people!...those who are over 5 feet tall. I was told by a psychic one time, the only way she saw me being able to really unwind is if I weren't in the solitude of my own room, but in a room FULL of people. I found that odd when I first heard it, but she was sort of right. She probably knew that already too. It's nice to escape, if for only a scant couple of hours. No one knows you are some one's mom. No one knows you do 2+ loads of laundry a day. No one is wise to the fact you can change a diaper with your eyes closed. No one knows that while you are busting a FAT MOVE to a vaguely awesome cover band, you are mentally calculating how you will drive by a gas station on your way home to get doughnuts for tomorrow's breakfast.

There's always a moment. That moment when I'm getting ready to leave the house. I kiss my kids goodbye, and look at them...really look at them. In that moment, I hope they know I'm better for having them. While I'm tired of their bickering, tattling, rough housing that day, and I started earning a night out before the sun came up. As soon as I cross the thresh hold out our door, I enjoy the silence, but sort of miss them already. Hoping they understand, sometimes I have to go away every once and a while to really appreciate where I am...