nonchalant and nude

...that day when it's gone to the crapper before 7:50 in the morning...there's been snark, whining, arguing, smack talk, and it's seemingly endless. It's the day when even a silver lining is swearing at you in another language. It sucks to pretty much start a day, when you know you might not get it together fast enough to turn it around...

Finding it increasingly difficult to reinforce certain things in this house. Maybe it's because I'm not much taller than those who live here. Maybe it's because doing double duty is exhausting some days. Maybe my kids, knowing they have me on the ropes, secretly want to see my loose my shit. Maybe it's my never ending scourge of wanting/needing to know that I'm not screwing my kids up. I no more than think this, when I am greeted by a naked two year old, nonchalantly saying "...hey mommy, what are you doing?"

What ever the reason, my quest to try to raise clean, healthy, upstanding humans out of these kids leaves me at times feeling like a failure. Puberty is just around the corner, with every passing day, seems not to matter how old I am, I KNOW NOTHING. My street cred is gone. The sum of my parts and the sum of their parts do not add up. What would I know about cleansing? What would I know about body odor? What would I know about personal hygiene in general? For that matter what do I know about anything, (getting ready for a direct quote) "YOU GREW UP IN THE 80's!" That's when I no longer have a filter...and end up saying, when your butt stinks, it doesn't matter the decade!!!

It's been pointed out to me that I'm in a pressure cooker 24/7...and I admit it, I probably put myself there. It's still no less terrifying. And some days, I cannot put into words how overwhelmed I am. Some days it feels like the day is never ending. Some days the rut one finds themselves in is more like a canyon. I just wish for one hour, their dad could come back and reinforce anything I've tried to tell them over the last 2 years. For one hour that they would intently listen, reminding them that I am all they have, and I might actually be able to teach them something. However, a wish like that is futile and simple minded. I know it's up to me to keep trying, and hoping for the best.

This is just my routine rant. This is my cycle that I go through. This is sadly not the last time. I'll think to myself, I've had it and I'm exhausted. It's not the last time I'll have to squint to find the silver lining. It's the notion of the finish line. Like if I knew where this was all going to go, if I could see the finish line, maybe it would be easier? Sure, it would take the adventure out of life, but a tiny glimpse of what will be...well, it might make turning today around a little easier.

...pacifiers and big boy beds...

Well...I think it's time. Time to face the facts that while I know life moves on, I can't stop my kids from growing...ask the cashier at Aldi who sees me weekly, she knows. In life there are a few things that you just become comfortable with...For me, time alone is more than a comfort. IT'S VERY NECESSARY. It was bound to happen sooner or later, you have to shake off what's comfortable, loose some security, and try to adapt without a cocktail in hand.

No matter your age, you have a pacifier. You have that one thing, person, action that calms and settles you when you need it. Comforts you when you crave it. Helps you cope with, well perhaps life. To my Talls, they are each other's pacifiers. They have shared a room from the beginning of their lives. Their antics could possibly be cataloged. The combined preteen boy smell, possibly researched for National Geographic. Their humor, their language, their means of entertainment? It's like they are twins speaking another language...18 months and two days apart will do that to you. To my surprise today, the taller of the Talls asked if he could move to another room...and the fallout began.

The idea of moving wasn't out of anger. It wasn't out of annoyance. I offered the idea up this summer, to slightly tepid responses. I couldn't imagine a kid not wanting to get their own room if they had the chance. I was proud of the fact that he felt he was ready. But, I forgot. I forgot until today, that these Talls have been basically conjoined, with and an invisible attachment. I figured after Jason passed, it would be that way for a while. I figured that what they had together, might be what helps them to move on, and I didn't want to muddle that in any way. So today I was surprised to see one want to step out on that limb alone. What I won't forget is seeing the panic in the Tall that was getting left behind.

I remember asking a doctor once when I was in the beginning throws of being a mom...so, when do we need to move him into a real bed? Her answer has entertained me, stayed with me, comforted me, and possibly pacified me ever since. Her response was, "...I would have left my kids in their crib until they were 7. If they're not climbing out, leave 'em in there!" And so, I've held onto that over the last 10 years. With each kid until now, the only reason to move out of their crib, was because we needed someone else in it. Not the case with the last golden child of this house hold. I see Atticus growing up before my eyes. I know I slightly Jedi-Mind-Trick him everyday to take a nap because that's where his pacifier is laying. I know I then have 1.7 hours of free-ish time. I know that the seemingly tranquil comfort of putting everyone to bed and not having an escapee isn't going to be forever. Frankly, it's right around the corner.

So, I wasn't shocked to hear Abe, instantly chatting up his "mini-me". "So Atti, looks like I'm going to have some extra space in my room...what do you think about moving out of this tiny little crib and rooming with me? In a BIG BOY BED?!" It was brilliant. It was the fastest formulated plan ever conceived by a nearly 9 year old ever. It was calculating. It was excitingly delivered. It was Abe, needing a pacifier to replace the one he's had for the last 8 years. I chuckled at how quickly he was trying to solve his problem. I went from being sad for Abe, as he was silently heartbroken to think about rooming alone. I was then proud of him, instead of bitching about what was fair and what wasn't, he found a solution. He set Atti up for a nap today in his room, just to "try it out". I figured I'd find him playing Legos, never getting a wink. To Abe's excitement, we walked in and found Atti right where we left him...I would have so lost money on that one.

While we are still in the beginning stages (I need to start my mantra now), it looks like there's going to be some moving around in the future. It's time to start something fresh. It's time to put away some pacifiers. It's time to appreciate that maybe we don't need them as much as we thought to grow. It's time to start sleeping with one eye open, if the smallest Small isn't confined...(gulp). Bring on the big boy bed...

...smiling with your eyes...

It's that time of year again...the cold is upon us, the slippers come on, the holiday music has started on the satellite, and the urge to put out all my Christmas stuff is just beneath the skin. Not sure why this year I've wanted to skip from Halloween to Christmas. Maybe it's because we like to decorate. Maybe it's because I need a project. Maybe it's because it all seems to come and go so quickly that I want it to last longer...I think doing things like these with my kids has helped us. I think letting them be a part of these traditions has given them a sense of appreciation for this time of year. And I'm grateful for it.

There has been one constant for the last year...I've only actually mentioned him once, but he has been so much a part of our life. He has been my sounding board for lots of things. He was a single parent too, and he understands my frustrations. He appreciates me for who I am and isn't intimidated by my need for control, he recognizes it's how it all works for me. He is quick with a joke, a compliment, a laugh, and a smile. He tells hilarious stories and when naming people in them he always gives their first and last name. He is a fantastic cook, and isn't afraid to get into the kitchen, tell me to sit down, and take over. He loves to listen to music and quiz me on who sang it. He has been more than just a 'plate spinner' for me. He has shown me how much one person's heart could be so very beautiful. And I'm so very grateful for him.

The best thing about him...he loves my kids. He walks in the door and four voices shout out BEN!!! He isn't bothered by piggy-back rides, discussions of Pink Floyd and ACDC, or getting routine bear hugs from Nora. He is eager to teach them games, listen to their jokes, and steps in when my patience is wearing thin. He lets them snuggle on him, climb on him, and basically attack him. He has taught them the art of smack talk while playing Uno, quick counting for Yahtzee, the proper spiral on a football, and the best way to crack eggs. All the while reinforcing that to him, they are important.

Being the voice of reason (terrifying I know) around here 6 days a week... I look forward to the weekend. I look forward to him coming in, and seemingly everyone is in a better mood than they were before. I couldn't put it into words until yesterday. We were all sitting on the living room floor, minus Atticus who needed a court sanctioned nap. Uno was the deck of cards being dealt out, and the smack talking had begun. Cards in hand, I looked up and noticed something...everyone was smiling with their eyes. Do you know what that looks like? To me, it's one of the most beautiful, wonderful, meaningful things to see. Someone so happy, having so much fun, that their faces can't just contain it...I was grateful to see it, and figure out how to put it into words.

We have been blessed to have this person come into our lives, love us, make us feel special, remind us that we are kicking ass in life...no matter how much the kids hate dinner. We have been given this gift of a person who understands our personalities and appreciates us for it. I feel like I am right where I need to be when he is around. Unlike the holiday season, I'm not worried how quickly this moves. I'm looking forward to seeing where it goes..all the while loving the view, smiling with my eyes and grateful....

...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.

...if we have an issue, we'll deal with it...

I've learned to turn a blind eye to things. I don't separate my laundry by colors. I don't worry about sack lunches. I'm the one who has company over and forgets to put away the bras that are air drying in the laundry room. I'm the one who needs to dust the shelves, but is readied with a veggie tray at a moments notice. I'm the one who worries less about my kids brushing their teeth and more about not having them look like hobos going to school. My priorities are a little skewed, but most everything is taken care of...as much as I care to, I should say.

When raising kids, I used to be more obsessed with every aspect of their school lives. I used to fret over snacks, fundraisers, and knowing all of their teachers. Where did that get me really? While life has taught me to ease up on some things, when it comes to the parent teacher conferences I think I'm as nervous as maybe the kids are. I steady myself, waiting to be told that while Abe looks mild mannered, he really has been selling cigarettes to some 5th graders...I use Abe only because his was the conference I needed to attend this year...

I sit and listen to his teacher explain certain strengths he has. I listen intently, as some of the things she is mentioning I have never seen in Abe. She shows me his handwriting and I literally ask her, "...this is Abe Hunt we are talking about, right?" Turns out, the kid is excelling in everything, not just the things he already knows he's good at. Turns out when he told me that he's reading at a 7th grade level (to which I scratched my head as he's always having someone else read for him like a seeing-eyed-dog), he was right. Turns out all of the things that I thought I knew about Abe, I didn't. He's not the brawn like he likes to say, he's the brains too.

This shouldn't come as a surprise to me, but for some reason it was more of a reassurance. The idea that maybe I haven't let this one fall through the cracks, was a load off my mind. The fact that even though I've never seen him do some of his work, it's actually getting done, and done well. I constantly worry about the notion my kids going to this small town school, is too easy for me. They head down the street and eight hours later they return. I don't have to be there to know that it is going on. I just get to be blessed with teachers and an administration that is seemingly taking care of what needs to be done.

I have ended the last couple of conferences with the same speech. It's not to scare or preach to them, more like let them know where we are. I flat out tell them that the next couple of months could be interesting. We are approaching the anniversary of their dad's death, and from that point I'm not sure how they will handle it. I'm not foreseeing a major issue, but I want to let them know that I'm always sort of waiting for the other shoe to drop. This years teacher, as in years pas,t were completely understanding, and receptive to what I had to say. However, this year's teacher said something I might not forget. She looked at me, and simply said, "You have nothing to worry about. You come highly respected for what you do and how you are doing it. Your kids are excelling, and so are you...if we have an issue, we'll deal with it."

While there is a bra drying in my laundry room, there is a veggie tray ready to be put out at 3 pm. While I know I need to vacuum, sitting watching TV with Nora is just more fun. Maybe I needed a complete stranger to tell me who my kid is to me. Maybe I needed a complete stranger to tell me that things were going okay. Maybe I needed a complete stranger to reassure me that no matter what may happen, no matter how I could possibly avoid it, if we have an issue, we'll deal with it...

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...

...a good cry, stiff drink, or both

It's finally Fall...finally, that time of year when the air gets crisp, night comes earlier, your skin gets thinner and you are surrounded by color that changes daily. For me, this month is sort of bitter sweet. While I've had so many wonderful things that have happened to me, there have been some things that have changed me forever. It's ironic, the beauty of Fall. What I long to see all year long, is really the dying off of something so that come spring, it can bloom once again.

To me October always means anniversaries, baking, decorating, warm cardigans, and your favorite jeans. The Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown, and the never ending quest to find the perfect/cheap Halloween costume...knowing that making it yourself means really spending as much as you would just buying the damned thing. Getting back out your cozy socks, sweat pants, and looking forward to snuggling under blankets while watching movies...even if it's because you refuse to turn the heat on until November. It's simple minded. It's easy. It's heartwarming, this love affair with October...but at times it comes with a price.

The miracle of life is one that is most definitely taken for granted. I used to be one of these people. The first time we became pregnant I was ready to shout it to anyone I knew, and I was something like 4 weeks pregnant. When you have to be shown how quickly that miracle can be taken away from you, it hardens your heart. When you have to deliver a baby you will never take home, somewhere deep inside, it changes you. Suddenly, all of these other women, of whom you never knew their sorrow, come out of the woodwork. They too had lost a baby. And now, you are in this strange and sad sorority of women who know too well the miracle of life...how it should never be taken for granted. So, I'll either have a good cry, make a stiff drink, or perhaps both (hell knows I've earned it) later this month. From that sorrow, I learned something more profound, your strength not only comes from you, but also the ones you love around you. Little did I know then this would merely be a 'try-on' for my latter life.

I knew before I was even asked. I knew I wanted to get married in October. I had a mental date set up in my head for years. If Jason ever asked me to marry him, I knew I wanted to get married on the same date that we met. If that date would have fallen on a Wednesday, I still would have done it. To most, meeting someone on Friday the 13th would have been a bad omen, but it was a day that intensely changed my life for ever. Our wedding wasn't fancy, but it had meaning. Years later, people would comment to me how much they loved our wedding, the ceremony and the reception. It was a culmination of two families and amazing friends coming together to celebrate. What could be better than that? I'm a week out from this anniversary, and I'm not really sure how I feel. One would understand being sad on that day now...and at times when I think about it, it does make me sad. But, then I think of all that came from it. I think about all of the things I've been given since then.

A wise person told me recently,"... you didn't choose for your entire life to change...you didn't choose for your husband to leave...it happened and now you have to deal with it the best you can." They're right. It's anniversaries like the one I'm approaching that are sort of a mind scramble. It's like I want to mentally prepare myself for that day...yeah, I know the OCD in that statement is easily spread with knife. I'm not obtuse enough to think that I have any control over it. It has been sort of creeping up on me like a cheap pair of underwear...this sort of pit in my stomach. From an extraordinary life, there will always have been pit falls, hard times. On this October 13th (unlucky to some), I'm going to try to focus on the extraordinary gifts I've been given. The extraordinary laughs I have had, and the extraordinary place I have ended up with this person who is no longer here to celebrate with me. October, you are one tough broad. But, you haven't taken this one out yet...