...solidarity sister...

We're coming up on six years of solidarity. I cannot even tell you how excited I was to be bringing a person into the world who did not need to stand to pee. It's not that I didn't already love the boys in my life, it was just nice to know I was going to have a ally at the end of it all. I have been blessed beyond measure with this solidarity I was given almost 6 years ago...

I speak of her often mainly because she speaks, OFTEN. She has no filter, and while sometimes that can be maddening, other times it is just what I need at the end of the day. Her wisdom is beyond her years and her ability to cut right through a situation is something I hope she never looses. She understands the necessity of being able to understand that sometimes life is not fair, even when she's angry that she doesn't have a penis...her exact words...ah, the life of being out numbered.

She starts school this year on her birthday, for that I am grateful. I'm hoping it helps to quell her separation anxiety. She's excited about school lunch, and she's been told to make friends with the lunch ladies, they are some of the best people when you are a kid. The only thing she fears currently is the fact that at some point they'll be serving green beans, "...my arch nemesis!" as she calls them. We went to school today to drop off school supplies and it turns out her teacher has a birthday this week too. They decided to celebrate their birthdays on the teacher's birthday because it's on Friday, to which Nora asked if there would be dancing? I don't envy her teacher...

While the birthday short list included a treadmill, she has decided that she will ask for a metal detector for Christmas...who wants to get all the big stuff at once? She might be disappointed at her gifts. She finally decided on what sort of birthday cake she wants, and I have to say it will be a cinch! It seems the older they get the easier their requests are. She originally wanted to eat at a truck stop for her birthday dinner, because she likes the spaghetti and meatballs there. But, the boys have talked her into a family favorite Italian place.

I'm sure that the word "karma" comes into play at times with her antics, but it's just who she is. The things that come out of her mouth, well I wish I could make this crap up, but it's all her. Her brain is sometimes going 88 miles an hour, but her heart is almost as big as she is. She was the first person I saw Jason physically melt over...even if she screamed at him the first few months of her life during her late night feedings. My one wish for her, of which I cannot give her, is for her to see how crazy Jason was about her. How just plain stupid he would get around her, because she had seriously pinched a special place in his heart. My hope is that one day, she will find another man who adores her as much as he did. However, I know I am guaranteed a forever best friend, my solidarity sister...my Nora...

Thank you, Louisa May...

Time is the funniest thing...It can transport you. Encourage you. Engage you. Help you remember how far you've come, how old you are, and that there still is a long road ahead of you. It is interesting how one date, not even a significant date in the calendars of time, can be recalled as if it wasn't years ago, more like hours or minutes. Today, out of the clear blue no where, time kicked my butt...

I stupidly tried to fight it off today, being conceited and thinking I could shrug it off. My burying skills are the stuff of legends. It's not that I don't want to deal with what might have me down, that isn't healthy. It's just the fact that I do not have the luxury of breaking down and bawling, at least without some sort of audience. I try to do anything else to quell it, at least until a quiet time. Today Not a chance.

Today, for the first time in a long time, it was in public, in a quiet church, and for some inexplicable reason, I just wanted to cry. I sat there, trying to stop it. Mentally giving myself a SERIOUS inter-monologue on how this was NOT THE TIME...no Kleenex, no wipes, forgot to even pack a rouge diaper today. I had 4 different snacks, 5 action figures, 3 colored pencils, 24 index cards and no Kleenex. That should have been my first clue that today was going to be off.

I sat there, willing myself to not be noticed. Willing myself that if I just focused on what was being said in church, I could trick my brain if for only 17 minutes to forget what it was doing. Like some sort of mental Sudoku puzzle. Nothing. Well, nothing but anger then. I felt flushed, nervous, and twitchy. I found it funny when about the time I was wondering if I should just walk out of church, as clearly the message was being lost on me today, Atticus turned to me and said "...so, is it time to go?"

I was trying to pinpoint the 'thing' that had me going crazy. I was trying to understand it and figure out what to do next. Not so easy to do in a church pew. I had all of these things running through my mind. What to fix? How to change? What's for lunch? How to stop feeling like I was going to ugly cry? We weren't the first ones out the church door, but we didn't stay to mingle. I walked that block home at the most brisk pace I could. Walked in the front door, answered Abe's 'What's for lunch?' question with 'FOOD', and excused myself to my room for a minute.

I sat, grabbed a roll of toilet paper, and bawled. Two years ago today we moved into this house. It was a hot, sweaty, tiresome but exciting day. I will remember it because of all of those things, but today it just made me sad because sometimes time is terrifying to me. I would never have believed that my life is where it is now moving in that day. I know I have some abandonment issues. Based on things thankfully not everyone fully understands. It seems treacherous and unproductive to push people away, but it's those 'inner survivor skills' bursting through at times to a fault. My instincts unfortunately at times are to push people who love me away, because I don't want to try to figure out how to live without them later.

So, as I tried to dry my eyes I looked up and saw a picture a dear friend got for me. It is a quote from Louisa May Alcott that simply says...

                        "I am not afraid of storms, for I am learning how to sail my ship"

I looked at this metaphor for life, knowing that it is more than a daily mantra I should be uttering. It is a reminder that the stuff I thought was hard before? Yeah, that's just a 'try on' to what could happen next. All the while hoping that while I am learning how to sail my ship, I remember that I don't always have to do it alone...it could take a while...