...the decade...

Ten years ago today I was eager to finally see the alien I had been lugging around next to my bladder for the last nine months. My bag was packed, baby clothes picked out, and my midnight induction was scheduled. I was blissfully uniformed of what life would be like with two children under the age of 2. I was blissfully oblivious of how big this baby was going to be. I was blissfully unfamiliar of how this child, much like all my children before and after him, would steal my heart. I was blissfully unaware how, ten years later, different life would appear. Time marches on, and a decade later life did as well...

Even as I was typing this, I had to take a break to wipe some one's behind. Ten years ago I would never have ever dreamed I would have THIS many children. We were so very lucky to have what we already had...but the forth coming blessings were just that, blessings. While I'm forever outnumbered, the fact that I no longer have a child in diapers brings euphoria. A decade of diapers will give you that. I've never been one to mourn the growth of my children, I was never a baby person. I do however mourn the notion that I probably didn't appreciate the smallest of moments or milestones they had when they had them. Quite frankly, I didn't have the time...thankfully, there's always ginkgo biloba.

With every birthday milestone of my children, I consider it a milestone for me as well. Not to steal their thunder, but let's face it, I didn't sell them to the circus, so we're all winners aren't we? With every birthday, I'm reminded of how far they have come, and how exciting it will be to watch where life leads them. This decade we're celebrating for Abe tomorrow has been nothing short of epic. He has produced hundreds of stories, cracked a million jokes, and continually amazes me with his heart and his ability to use it. Never the pessimist, he can turn even the most swear inducing situation into a joke, and I am grateful at times for his capacity so to do. He understands more about life that most kids his age, and yet has never asked me if Santa Claus is real. He is a very unlikely middle child, who has his ornery tendencies, but what 10 year old doesn't? He at times is my instigator, my sweetheart, and my rock. Understanding that life is what you make of it, and if you want expensive shoes, you buy them yourself.

But thinking over 10 years...it's sort of easy to get lost in it. I would have at one point only looked at the sadness endured or the struggles encountered. Those are always going to be there, but they're not in the forefront. While my best friend April was recently visiting, we had our routine heart to hearts every night. She mentioned something to me, that even sort of shocked me. She said, "Usually, at some point in our visits, you say when am I going to figure this all out...and you haven't..." To me, that was the highest of compliments, the kind only people you love as much as I love her can give. The blinding fact that hit me is that I don't really dwell on that anymore. Seeing the silver lining in things is how I am, but wondering when the race will get easier is just being human. I don't have to have everything figured out, because sometimes in life things just have to fall into place organically to make them work.

I heard a comment a few weeks ago while at the movies with my kids. And while I've washed about 100 loads of laundry, made countless meals, played the role of Wonder Woman while playing action figures with my tiniest, it has still stuck with me. The comment went something like this; If you only do what you can do, you'll never be more than you are. If you think about it, it's a pretty powerful statement. I think it fastened to my memory because it reminded me of my children, our life, how we try to live day to day, and especially Abe. This decade, while it has taught us all a lot, is only the beginning of our story...and thankfully there will be many more.

...you've got 7 days Elf...

It's a slippery slope. The holidays, while only as hectic as you make them for yourself, sadly are winding down. The magic that I see in my kids eyes, just looking for a creepy looking stuffed toy everyday, will end in a week. While it's sort of like a beautiful old song that moves you sometimes into an emotional state, the crescendo of Christmas is near...and then what?

I used to hate Tuesday nights years ago. Jason worked late on those nights. I was always so stressed out about getting the kids fed and in bed by myself. I dreaded the notion of dealing with bottles, babies, school work, baths and bedtimes by myself. A dear friend of mine would listen to me complain about it. That same friend said to me just after Jason passed away, "...I hate how life is for you now...everyday is a Tuesday night...". For what ever reason that conversation has been playing on 'repeat' in my head for the last couple of days...

Every person who has a child knows that there is a time of day, a couple of hours, when inexplicably it's beyond crazy in the house. My time of day like that is fondly called THUNDER DOME and it's from about 3:45pm until about 7:30pm. It was that way with one baby back in the day, it has just become louder with four. Now, that time of day has changed with four, not only due to the noise, but the lack of adult noise. It's the time of day, when I seemingly look to pick up a phone and call someone, or at times long for a pop-in. Today, I sent three card carrying members of Thunder Dome over to the hill to bask in the snow before it melts. I was left with the tiny insurgent who seemed to be subdued by eating his weight in pretzels and carrot sticks. As I sat there looking over school folders, mentally listing everything that still had to be picked up before Friday, a cocktail on the table...I wondered how my life would look 20 years from now.

I wondered how quiet my house would be, what my house would sound like. I contemplated what it would look like...The darken rooms. Floors free of toys. No rouge Cheerios to see under the table. No dirty socks left adjacent to the laundry basket. No one pre-dinner-prep-complaining about vegetables. No one bartering for a soda. No one wanting to be picked up. While quiet is a scarce commodity in this house, the futuristic home I was considering, only glimmered for a moment...it left me feeling empty...as if what I sometimes long for, really isn't anything to look forward to.

The crescendo nearing...I guess I see the years flying. The magic of this time of year, while at times manufactured for those you love, will slowly fade away as the ones you make it for grow older. The thought of how I wished I had a better memory, to be able to remember the little moments they have this time of year...they need to have these memories for later. Wishing I had another adult to help me remember, help me remind them, as my brain is slightly nearing 'crash' mode perpetually. Realizing, that even though everyday is "like a Tuesday night", during this time of year it's thrilling, fun, and magical. Sometimes however, the best moments are the ones you talk about over the table with someone else... and so, not often, but sometimes, for a little bit, I long for the possibility of a Wednesday.

...the fun-flask

...I grew up in a funeral home. I know I've discussed this issue before, but it begs mentioning again. I was a second generation of kids living in a funeral home. I never found it weird. I never found it creepy, my dad was the original 'Work from Home' guy. There is a noise level and a sense of somber at times learned in living in a funeral home. You learn at a young age how to answer a business phone, arrange flower baskets, and clean ashtrays. These were all valuable lessons a nine year old could take on with her in life. I'm grateful for many fond memories of living in a small town funeral home as a kid. It also needs to be mentioned, that while I speak a lot of my liquor cabinet, I do not have an issue with drinking. I'm a responsible adult. However, there are those "desperate times, call for desperate measure" moments...I am also someone who knows everything is best in moderation.

Why the strange, illusive confession statement above? It has everything to do with my flowing of emotions in the last couple of days. Tears. That's it. Just tears. Not really able to put words to why they have been creeping in. I'm a realist, I know that life can't be undone. I know that this last year, while at times difficult, has taught me more than could ever be put into words. The enormity of my life, and all that has happened, good and bad, has set in. I was discussing today with a wise friend, I didn't know what the 'year mark' would feel like. I could sit and dwell on all the things I've not accomplished. The poor mothering that has happened more than a time or two. The fact that it all is still fairly terrifying, but I haven't the option to run. At times, decompressing, is an understatement...Well, it brings me to a year ago...

The day after Jason passed away, I really didn't want to do anything but lie in bed, pull the covers over my head and wallow. The loud kind of wallow. The kind you see women in the streets doing in foreign countries on the news. That was my idea of decompressing, and it didn't happen. Being raised in a funeral home, I should have known better. I had to slap on some clothes, and go plan a funeral...so we'll put a pin in the wallow until later? Not exactly. There was life to handle. Calls from friends and family. Doors to answer with baked goods, dinner, cards, and flowers. There were people to call back and voice mails to listen to. Oh, there were also four confused kids wandering around here, and no one really knew what to say to them...including me. If there were ever a time to RUN, that would have been it, I even think about that to this day...it, at the time, was almost TOO MUCH...

The thought of having to see people upset, hold my own emotions together, and thank them in the manner that I thought they deserved...now we've hit the too much status. I realize that I put these pressures on myself, but that's who I am, sadly. For about 12 hours I thought about skipping town. I just didn't think I could pull the visitation off...the control freak possibly losing control? Not good. It was then that I turned to my sainted friend April, and uttered the words that have made me laugh/smile in the last few weeks thinking about it. I said, "April...we are going to need a 'fun-flask'..." To which her three words back to me were a resounding, "...I'M ON IT!"

Now, my plan was not to get hammered at my late husbands visitation. It was, for me, like taking an umbrella to fight off the rain. If at some point, I thought I needed it, then I had it in my arsenal. On the way to the visitation, April was handing me lipstick to apply while driving. Reassuring me, that if there were ever a time I needed anything, just to nod at her and she'd be on it. My kids would end up playing/watching movies, gorging themselves with Halloween candy and soda a designated room at the funeral home, thankfully one less thing to worry about. The funeral director, and dear friend, wasn't lying when he said he predicted it to be a large turn out...while that was unbelievable, it was also very nice. I didn't really have time to give April the 'nod', however she would come by and check on me. "...oh, I'm fine", I'd say to her. After about 3 hours in, she came up and said, "...here, you need to drink this...(water, with a splash of something)". Clearly, she was nodding for me, and I'm grateful to her for it.

I feel like life doesn't give you a second chance...something, that while it is gut wrenching to learn, man, if you can understand it...the world is an entirely different place. Life is always going to get harder. So, you cry about it, cuss about it, drink about it, and embrace it. That's where I'm heading. That's what I'm wanting to teach my kids in this next year. Life is what YOU make of it. If you love someone, you let them know. If you are hurt by someone, you kindly confront them. If you have dreams, you follow them. If you take the easy way, those dreams might be a while out of your reach. The time you have here on earth is fleeting, make sure you know what you stand for, and you are able to SHOW, not tell, others by your example. Make every moment (even the ones where you are about to lose your shit) count...they are the ones you'll remember anyway...and for heaven's sake, don't forget your fun-flask, I mean umbrella...