Happiness. Pure, unadulterated, unending, unbelievable happiness...and no, I'm not making this up. It is the feeling, I was always told, when someone was once again content, adjusted, excited and thrilled about not only about their life but their future. I never thought this day would actually come, I never thought I would find something so elusive, but here I am and I cannot hide the smile from my face at any moment of the day.
Nora's happiness? Spending the month of June with my parents. The laundry list of things she was going to get to do was something akin to a bucket list, and I can't say that I blame her. The fun loving, free spirited, spitfire who bares my likeness is spreading her joy two states away. At first, it was sort of nice having only three in toe. At first it was sort of nice that the "collective we" left behind here in Missouri could sit in a small booth or ride in a regular car...that's just the game of numbers. But, here I sit, the only girl in my house, and I long for another "sista" to talk to or even to appreciate the fact that she doesn't pee all over the toilet seat. Here I am, longing for the one kid that, while easily entertained, does require a laundry list of "projects" to do for the coming day by 8 a.m. I miss her, despite keeping busy and grateful that she gets a chance to spend time with her grandparents, I worry.
I worry that she'll come home and feel let down. I worry the one on one attention that she is getting, while very well deserved, won't be matched when she comes home. She is quick to tell it like it is, I've raised her right, but I fear that when she gets home. I fear I won't be enough after her month long extravaganza. While I was excited that she was getting the chance to do something special, I never thought about what would happen when she came back---frankly, I thought she would get homesick, never figuring it would be me. But, in this crazy house of BOYS, Nora has earned the right to be made to feel special, and who can do that better than grandparents? Less than 7 days to go, and there will be so much happiness to see her, it might be sickening.
Happiness for the three boys left behind? NO GIRLS...clearly I am genderless to my male offspring. However, boys, just boys, are really pretty easy to deal with. Lower expectations, lower maintenance, lower threshold for fart jokes...feed them, turn on a PS4, take them to a pool, and that is all they need. I have asked them several times if they miss Nora, last night's explanation was priceless- Oscar: "Well, you know, we deal with her on a daily basis, so we don't really miss that." Okay? He sounds like someone who works in a dog pound. Nora's partner in crime, Atticus, misses her at certain times of day. They have their own system of things they do, most of which make little to no sense to me, but hey, it works for them. After having just boys in this house, it is abundantly clear to me why Nora is not what you would call a "girlie-girl", why would she be? She'd rather shoot a bb-gun or have a spitting contest. I imagine, for her, it is her survival and hopefully comfort mode in this house. Who knows? After a month out of this fraternity house, she might be a new woman. But I am excited to have my solidarity sister back again soon.
The happiness that where I currently reside? I think it is a mixture of a dozen things. I think it is growth. I think it is time. I think it is the long desired ability for my mind, heart and soul to open up again. I think it is seeing how where I have been has guided me, at times not so swiftly, to where I am. I think it is not over thinking every detail, but opening myself up to a million details, some of which I never thought I would get to have. Looking back, I can't put into words how much I missed it. Sure, I've written about it in 135 blogs, shared my good, my bad and my very ugly at times. But the happiness where I currently reside, makes me smile for more than 3 seconds...because I know I'm better for it, I deserve it and I'll be a better woman/mother/sister/friend because of it. Summer has officially started, the directive I give to you? Find your happiness, you're worth it.
Showing posts with label summer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label summer. Show all posts
Friday, June 23, 2017
Tuesday, May 23, 2017
...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.
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.
Tuesday, May 16, 2017
Where is Isaac Washington when you need him?
...the end is near. Can you feel it? Can you feel the complacency that is most simply entitled "The Last Week of School?" Soon there will be piles of supplies that were either gently used or ravished but "have to be saved" because they hold some hopefully not forgotten memory of the grade that was. My house is currently under the state of appearing like a "hazardous waste sight," so I am on protest. Why clean now, when I will no doubt need a dumpster to clean whatever comes out of a backpack/locker/cubby on Friday? So, I lie in wait...
Usually, I have come up with some sort of system or schedule to try to counter act my no-doubt problems with the complaint department, my precious offspring. I ready myself, as if charging the breach for the following statements: I'M- bored/hot/tired/hungry/annoyed with a sibling/dealing with sensory overload/might be two days from turning into a vampire because I've sat inside for too long. Then there is the comment that I count the days until I hear, "...you're no fun." Fun? FUN? Who do you think I am? Julie McCoy from The Love Boat? And if so, where is Isaac Washington? He's more along the lines of what I need in this house at times. Why do parents fall into that drastic, laugh in the face of death trap of feeling like they have to entertain their kids all summer long? What happened to just going outdoors?
Honest to God. I don't think I spent one minute in my house, other than to eat or use the restroom (and let's face it sometimes that was easier to do outdoors), EVER! I would wake up in the morning, head outside, grab my bike and I was off! Of course, I had to round up my crew, all of which lived on my block, and the rest of the day would just fall into place. Riding bikes around, of course never leaving, the block for HOURS. We'd take a break to pretend fight off monsters or be in a cut throat cop chase, and be back on our banana seat Schwinn bikes. Not sure how it was that we never left the block, but from any point of said block, you could always hear your parents calling you in for dinner...that was the only time we stopped. Then as the twilight of the evening would set in, we would try to catch those magical lightening bugs or play ghosts in the graveyard, whilst trying not to pee your pants in fright.
But today, there is a whole marketing scheme to try to keep kids merely entertained during the summer. Camps, sports, art, music, engineering...it's like applying for a college course load. Every day is a chance to learn something new, I'm all about that. I guess where I'm stunted is the mere fact that we have to leave our yard to do so. Are we creating individuals that are incapable of entertaining themselves? Are we creating humans that need some sort of circus show every 45 minutes? As an adult, you don't do this for yourself. You might set up a few fun trips over the summer...take some trips to the pool...catch a movie. As an adult with children, most of your summertime is trying to deprogram your kids from being a hermit or resembling Gollum from lack of human interaction and sunlight.
So, I sent my kids to bed, under protest of course because why have a bedtime during the last week of school and so on, with an assignment: Think of one thing a week (swimming doesn't count, that is my thing to wear you out) that we can do. Something cheap, attainable (No Nora, we cannot go to a firing range) and E-D-U-C-A-T-I-O-N-A-L. Yeah, that last one ought to make them scratch their heads until the wee hours of the night. In summers past, I would just make up a schedule, not as something that must be followed to the letter, but more a standard of living...something akin to "Taco Tuesday." My hope is that if there is some ownership in the plan, there will be less arguing, complaining and dare I say quite possibly more fun. I already lowered the boom that one morning a week everyone is helping clean...they were super thrilled with that one.
The findings of my assignment were insightful...Well, not really. Nora was the only one who really took the assignment seriously, writing out something fun to do every day of the week. Clearly, she is the Julie McCoy of this Love Boat! Some of her ideas were, but not limited to: baking, board games, walks to the park, cleaning and library visits. Her tenacity and determination were commended and her plans will be put into action. Then very abruptly, Abe merely suggested that they play outdoors everyday (which I'm sure will not be thrilling by day 5) and Saturday would be an inside day. Oscar protested the entire assignment as something not worth his time and energy, stating "...it's not like we're actually going to do any of this..." To which I declared that the summer of '17 is perhaps the FREE BABYSITTING SUMMER he had always dreamed of. Atticus, exactly as his personality dictates, merely said, "Yeah, I'll go with the flow..."
So as The Love Boat of 815 Washington, well not exactly a lot of outwardly love, navigates its way through the next 3 months called summer, we do so with purpose. Hopefully we will learn something, be entertained, educationally enriched and well, let's drop some truths, survive to tell the tale. On a side note, I am currently taking applications for persons willing/able to fill the role of Isaac Washington for the summer of '17...
Usually, I have come up with some sort of system or schedule to try to counter act my no-doubt problems with the complaint department, my precious offspring. I ready myself, as if charging the breach for the following statements: I'M- bored/hot/tired/hungry/annoyed with a sibling/dealing with sensory overload/might be two days from turning into a vampire because I've sat inside for too long. Then there is the comment that I count the days until I hear, "...you're no fun." Fun? FUN? Who do you think I am? Julie McCoy from The Love Boat? And if so, where is Isaac Washington? He's more along the lines of what I need in this house at times. Why do parents fall into that drastic, laugh in the face of death trap of feeling like they have to entertain their kids all summer long? What happened to just going outdoors?
Honest to God. I don't think I spent one minute in my house, other than to eat or use the restroom (and let's face it sometimes that was easier to do outdoors), EVER! I would wake up in the morning, head outside, grab my bike and I was off! Of course, I had to round up my crew, all of which lived on my block, and the rest of the day would just fall into place. Riding bikes around, of course never leaving, the block for HOURS. We'd take a break to pretend fight off monsters or be in a cut throat cop chase, and be back on our banana seat Schwinn bikes. Not sure how it was that we never left the block, but from any point of said block, you could always hear your parents calling you in for dinner...that was the only time we stopped. Then as the twilight of the evening would set in, we would try to catch those magical lightening bugs or play ghosts in the graveyard, whilst trying not to pee your pants in fright.
But today, there is a whole marketing scheme to try to keep kids merely entertained during the summer. Camps, sports, art, music, engineering...it's like applying for a college course load. Every day is a chance to learn something new, I'm all about that. I guess where I'm stunted is the mere fact that we have to leave our yard to do so. Are we creating individuals that are incapable of entertaining themselves? Are we creating humans that need some sort of circus show every 45 minutes? As an adult, you don't do this for yourself. You might set up a few fun trips over the summer...take some trips to the pool...catch a movie. As an adult with children, most of your summertime is trying to deprogram your kids from being a hermit or resembling Gollum from lack of human interaction and sunlight.
So, I sent my kids to bed, under protest of course because why have a bedtime during the last week of school and so on, with an assignment: Think of one thing a week (swimming doesn't count, that is my thing to wear you out) that we can do. Something cheap, attainable (No Nora, we cannot go to a firing range) and E-D-U-C-A-T-I-O-N-A-L. Yeah, that last one ought to make them scratch their heads until the wee hours of the night. In summers past, I would just make up a schedule, not as something that must be followed to the letter, but more a standard of living...something akin to "Taco Tuesday." My hope is that if there is some ownership in the plan, there will be less arguing, complaining and dare I say quite possibly more fun. I already lowered the boom that one morning a week everyone is helping clean...they were super thrilled with that one.
The findings of my assignment were insightful...Well, not really. Nora was the only one who really took the assignment seriously, writing out something fun to do every day of the week. Clearly, she is the Julie McCoy of this Love Boat! Some of her ideas were, but not limited to: baking, board games, walks to the park, cleaning and library visits. Her tenacity and determination were commended and her plans will be put into action. Then very abruptly, Abe merely suggested that they play outdoors everyday (which I'm sure will not be thrilling by day 5) and Saturday would be an inside day. Oscar protested the entire assignment as something not worth his time and energy, stating "...it's not like we're actually going to do any of this..." To which I declared that the summer of '17 is perhaps the FREE BABYSITTING SUMMER he had always dreamed of. Atticus, exactly as his personality dictates, merely said, "Yeah, I'll go with the flow..."
So as The Love Boat of 815 Washington, well not exactly a lot of outwardly love, navigates its way through the next 3 months called summer, we do so with purpose. Hopefully we will learn something, be entertained, educationally enriched and well, let's drop some truths, survive to tell the tale. On a side note, I am currently taking applications for persons willing/able to fill the role of Isaac Washington for the summer of '17...
Wednesday, May 20, 2015
...grunt-like-look...
Well, it's here...can you hear that? It's almost the end of the school year and I actually think I'm ready for it. This week has been a full cocktail of feelings...anxiety mixed and over ice with fear as well as excitement in a LARGE glass of gratification. It's a scary thing to put yourself out there, not knowing if you will sink or swim. It's hard to decide if you are brave enough to jump into the deep end and leave your worries behind, if for only one moment. It's a slippery slope to want something to be a success while at the same time knowing the fact you've accomplished anything, is well, enough. And then there is potty training a 3 year old...
I should know what the hell I'm doing by now...right? I mean I do have three other children who are entirely capable and are no longer wearing plastic pants...but I'm stumped. This charming, very verbal, completely coordinated 3 year old just will not get it. I've pulled out all of the old tricks: candy, sticker charts, superhero undies, promising animals we can't actually house, promising toys we can't afford. Everything short of a bourbon and ginger ale, and let's face it that's my reward, I have promised this kid and he won't use the toilet. Oh, don't get me wrong, he's good at making it 'appear' like he is getting the hang of things, taking initiative and understanding what he should do. It's the doing it that is a problem...cut to us playing Uno on Saturday, and me looking up, only to see him standing in the window, that unmistakable 'grunt-like-look' on his face...and then looking at me and saying, "...ah mommy, I pooped..." At this point I'm thinking I'm going to have to home-school him.
The struggles of a child who can't decide if she likes sports or just enjoys entertaining an audience is something else I will be looking forward to this summer. I don't care if any of my kids are sport minded. I certainly don't care if not a one of them becomes a sports phenomenon. All I want them to do is feel comfortable trying new things and if they like it great, if they don't well at least they tried. We can't be certain if Nora is a lefty or a righty. We can't be certain if she knows that the team will not have her name in the title. We can't be certain if she knows she has to run to home plate. We can't be certain if she understands that the people in the crowd aren't all there just for her... But in the next 6 weeks we'll learn and that's what this summer is all about.
The older my kids get, the older I get. Wow, that's profound enough to embroider on a pillow...what I'm saying is with every summer, my old lady nostalgia kicks in...Part of me remembers being 11 years old, riding my bike all over town and not really worrying about checking in until it was dinner time. Then, the old lady kicks in. The controlling parent. Suddenly on the inside, I'm "Beverly Goldberg" the mother who would give her life for her 'schmoopies', despite the fact that she might be smothering them. I know I need to trust the street smarts I have already instilled, but it's scary. It is scary to think what might happen, even though chances are they won't. That's the intricate inner workings of a mother's brain. I know I was given freedom to ride my bike, and I'm none-the-less normal. This summer, it's going to be a lesson in letting go a little and letting them be...The beauty of living in a small town? I'll know what they might have done wrong about 1.1 seconds after they do it. And besides, I've already survived the "puberty video", I figure I'm on the up swing.
It seems with every passing season, it becomes a time to start and try to change things up a little...the beginning of a new adventure. I have to keep reminding myself of how far we've come and only one visit to the ER. We set goals, hope to keep them, and if we don't kill each other by the end of the day, then we're winning. I remember how terrifying life once was for me...constantly thinking to myself, I'm never going to pull this off. I'm never going to be able to do this alone. Don't get me wrong, I don't have the secret to life figured out and my mother-guilt could be fodder for a medical book. But this week I did a lot of reflecting on all that has happened in the last couple of years. All those nights I frantically pondered when...when was any of this going to make sense? When was life going to get easy?
The answer is, never. Life isn't supposed to be easy...but if you are lucky, you can adapt and press on. It has taken me longer than I would like to admit to see it that way. If you are lucky you can see the good in any day, even if it is the moment your kids go to bed without a head wound. If you are lucky, you'll understand that you were put here for a reason or possibly many reasons. Lastly, you let go and let everyday be an example of how tomorrow could be better...If that doesn't work, and you're anything like the 3 year old living in my house, you stand in the window and poop...
I should know what the hell I'm doing by now...right? I mean I do have three other children who are entirely capable and are no longer wearing plastic pants...but I'm stumped. This charming, very verbal, completely coordinated 3 year old just will not get it. I've pulled out all of the old tricks: candy, sticker charts, superhero undies, promising animals we can't actually house, promising toys we can't afford. Everything short of a bourbon and ginger ale, and let's face it that's my reward, I have promised this kid and he won't use the toilet. Oh, don't get me wrong, he's good at making it 'appear' like he is getting the hang of things, taking initiative and understanding what he should do. It's the doing it that is a problem...cut to us playing Uno on Saturday, and me looking up, only to see him standing in the window, that unmistakable 'grunt-like-look' on his face...and then looking at me and saying, "...ah mommy, I pooped..." At this point I'm thinking I'm going to have to home-school him.
The struggles of a child who can't decide if she likes sports or just enjoys entertaining an audience is something else I will be looking forward to this summer. I don't care if any of my kids are sport minded. I certainly don't care if not a one of them becomes a sports phenomenon. All I want them to do is feel comfortable trying new things and if they like it great, if they don't well at least they tried. We can't be certain if Nora is a lefty or a righty. We can't be certain if she knows that the team will not have her name in the title. We can't be certain if she knows she has to run to home plate. We can't be certain if she understands that the people in the crowd aren't all there just for her... But in the next 6 weeks we'll learn and that's what this summer is all about.
The older my kids get, the older I get. Wow, that's profound enough to embroider on a pillow...what I'm saying is with every summer, my old lady nostalgia kicks in...Part of me remembers being 11 years old, riding my bike all over town and not really worrying about checking in until it was dinner time. Then, the old lady kicks in. The controlling parent. Suddenly on the inside, I'm "Beverly Goldberg" the mother who would give her life for her 'schmoopies', despite the fact that she might be smothering them. I know I need to trust the street smarts I have already instilled, but it's scary. It is scary to think what might happen, even though chances are they won't. That's the intricate inner workings of a mother's brain. I know I was given freedom to ride my bike, and I'm none-the-less normal. This summer, it's going to be a lesson in letting go a little and letting them be...The beauty of living in a small town? I'll know what they might have done wrong about 1.1 seconds after they do it. And besides, I've already survived the "puberty video", I figure I'm on the up swing.
It seems with every passing season, it becomes a time to start and try to change things up a little...the beginning of a new adventure. I have to keep reminding myself of how far we've come and only one visit to the ER. We set goals, hope to keep them, and if we don't kill each other by the end of the day, then we're winning. I remember how terrifying life once was for me...constantly thinking to myself, I'm never going to pull this off. I'm never going to be able to do this alone. Don't get me wrong, I don't have the secret to life figured out and my mother-guilt could be fodder for a medical book. But this week I did a lot of reflecting on all that has happened in the last couple of years. All those nights I frantically pondered when...when was any of this going to make sense? When was life going to get easy?
The answer is, never. Life isn't supposed to be easy...but if you are lucky, you can adapt and press on. It has taken me longer than I would like to admit to see it that way. If you are lucky you can see the good in any day, even if it is the moment your kids go to bed without a head wound. If you are lucky, you'll understand that you were put here for a reason or possibly many reasons. Lastly, you let go and let everyday be an example of how tomorrow could be better...If that doesn't work, and you're anything like the 3 year old living in my house, you stand in the window and poop...
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