Well, I'm not sure where it came from...that's the interesting thing about grief. Even when you feel like you are doing fine, a day rolls around, for no real reason, and knocks you on your ass. About the time when you feel like you have everything in control (or at least as much as you can being out numbered), and the bottom falls out. The figurative doorbell rings, and emotions just come walking right in like you actually invited them. You can blame feminine hormones. You can blame dreary weather. You can blame a cocktail. But, the fact of the matter is when it comes, you can't make it go away until it's run it's course.
It started last week. Oscar mentioned at the breakfast table that he had a dream about Jason. We were all excited to know what happened. Turns out, nothing happened. He said he just saw his dad walking through the house. I could tell by his answer that he was a little underwhelmed. Like he had wished that it would have been more meaningful...longer...some sort of interaction that would have left him with a big grin. The often used phrase to people who are missing a loved one who is no longer here is, "...but they are with you...they are here watching you...they are loving you from a far..."And I'm sorry, but that is bologna shit.
My heart sort of broke that day for Oscar. They were given nothing. No good-bye. No closure. No chance to let their heart catch up with reality. Their last vision of Jason was on a stretcher out the window. Why didn't I let them see him on that stretcher? I would do just about anything for my kids to have just one more interaction with Jason. I would give anything for them to be able to say one more thing, give him a hug, just lay eyes on him...if for only 5 minutes. It is a pain that resonates so deeply inside of me that it actually physically hurts at times. It gnaws and tears at my heart, knowing that I am...powerless.
Atticus is now at that stage where he's verbal with no filter. He says things partly to get a reaction and partly because he doesn't know what he is saying. He likes to repeat the phrases that I might mutter under my breath, and does them with authority. He is very matter-of-fact about where his dad is. Driving down the road the other day he said, "...you know, my dad passed away...but I don't really know why or where he went..." I was sort of taken with how he phrased it. I mean he's only 3, and half the time he's talking about super heroes. He has started asking questions...the likes of which I remember Nora asking when she was his age. With each question asked, I know that it's one more I don't have real answers to. One more question that I have to try do deflect because I know his brain can't comprehend the real answer.
And then, last night as I was channel surfing, a PBS show came on, sort of Lawrence-Welk-like. The dancing started. The laughter got louder. The signature moves came out. It was hilarious, heart warming, rowdy and it made me emotional. It came in like a rhinoceros and I had to excuse myself to the bathroom. I cried, hard. I could hear the giggles and the squeals, but I couldn't stop myself. I had to let it out. The scene was like that of any Saturday night five years ago, but I was the only one noticing something was missing...and once again, I was powerless.
So, today is a new day. Today is the chance to start over. Today is the day to let yesterday's grief know that while we loved having them visit, we were running out of clean towels. Today is the day when you look at yesterday and hope you've learned something. Today will be filled with tantrums, freak-outs, spilled juice, dirty clothes and dishes. However tonight, we'll get the pleasure of watching Nora at t-ball practice...and that is just pure entertainment.
Sunday, May 31, 2015
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...
Saturday, May 9, 2015
Happy Mother's Day...
...I remember walking into a room just off of ours. It was empty, with exception of piles in this corner and that. A fresh coat of the most soothing green color on the walls. The only piece of furniture, a bright yellow chair sitting in the corner. I would wander into that room, sit in that big yellow chair and think. I would think about what still had to be done. I would think about what would go where. I would sit in that big yellow chair and think about the baby that would soon be living in this room. I would wonder what it would be like to be a mother...
I still remember how quiet it was sitting in that room...quiet is a foreign word around here. Of all the places in our old house, I think I miss that first baby room the most. I guess it was where I spent a lot of time, did most of my thinking, and a great deal of praying that I was actually doing things right...first time mother guilt. I could close my eyes right now and tell you how the sun fell into that room in the morning, or how in the spring the tree out front bloomed. All the times the Talls would be so tiny looking out their window in the winter waiting for the snow plows to go by. It seems like it was yesterday that I became a mother for the first time...
Mother's Day is upon us...I know because Atticus has been randomly saying to me, "...Happy-Birthday-Mother's-Day-Mom..." to me for the last week. Good to know he's caught on to bundling well wishes. My Mother's Day present (unknowingly) was given to me by my kids tonight. They gave me a trip down memory lane by watching...Lawrence Welk. It sounds odd, but when the Talls where little, we would watch it every Saturday night. Partly because it was funny to watch them, partly because it wore them out dancing and prancing all over the living room. They would dance and twirl, every once and a while Jason and I would get up to dance with them. We haven't watched it in years, actually I think tonight was Atticus' first time. They all performed some signature moves and one of the Talls finally accepted Nora's plea to be her dance partner. They were up for every song, twirling and dipping. Atticus was Oscar's slow dance partner, and I heard him ask while dancing, "...nice weather we're having?" That scant 45 minutes was probably one of the best Mother's Day gifts I have ever gotten.
I was told the other night how fast time flies when you have kids. I've been told this many times, but when you are in the trenches of motherhood, it's hard to see the end of the road. As I was sitting there, I was mentally doing the math. Barring Atticus not be given an orange jump suit with the letters "DOC", I will be 57 years old by the time all of my children are out of my house. That's nearly 60!? That is, if I don't make this home so damned wonderful they even decide to leave...The notion made me shutter and simultaneously contemplate an intense chore chart.
Little did I know what I was discussing in one part of the house, was invading Nora's dreams in another...but not the good kind. Being a mom is rough, all moms know that. Being a mom of children who have lost a parent is a different kind of rough. The fears that they have aren't like all the rest of the kids they know. Nora isn't the first one to express it, but her fear lies in what happens when I die. What will happen to her if I should die? Will she have to live all by herself? She doesn't want to be alone. As she is telling me this the next day, as it took her 12 hours to get the courage to talk about it, tears are streaming down her face. She actually looks like she is in pain even describing what she dreamt, how she felt, where her fear was. My heart broke. I tried to reassure her that she wouldn't be alone. I tried to tell her that if something happened to me, there would be someone here. I was careful with my words as I know all too well the phrase "take the place" is a line of crap...
This conversation was eye opening to say the least. I ditched the mental chore chart and started to think about what I get to do in the next 17 years. What I get to see raising these kids...knowing their potential...watching them grow into these cool people I see them becoming. I get to see them happy, get to console them when they are not, and get to hear them, as they have no internal volume. Silver Lining? I get to be their Mom, probably the best job I've ever had...
I still remember how quiet it was sitting in that room...quiet is a foreign word around here. Of all the places in our old house, I think I miss that first baby room the most. I guess it was where I spent a lot of time, did most of my thinking, and a great deal of praying that I was actually doing things right...first time mother guilt. I could close my eyes right now and tell you how the sun fell into that room in the morning, or how in the spring the tree out front bloomed. All the times the Talls would be so tiny looking out their window in the winter waiting for the snow plows to go by. It seems like it was yesterday that I became a mother for the first time...
Mother's Day is upon us...I know because Atticus has been randomly saying to me, "...Happy-Birthday-Mother's-Day-Mom..." to me for the last week. Good to know he's caught on to bundling well wishes. My Mother's Day present (unknowingly) was given to me by my kids tonight. They gave me a trip down memory lane by watching...Lawrence Welk. It sounds odd, but when the Talls where little, we would watch it every Saturday night. Partly because it was funny to watch them, partly because it wore them out dancing and prancing all over the living room. They would dance and twirl, every once and a while Jason and I would get up to dance with them. We haven't watched it in years, actually I think tonight was Atticus' first time. They all performed some signature moves and one of the Talls finally accepted Nora's plea to be her dance partner. They were up for every song, twirling and dipping. Atticus was Oscar's slow dance partner, and I heard him ask while dancing, "...nice weather we're having?" That scant 45 minutes was probably one of the best Mother's Day gifts I have ever gotten.
I was told the other night how fast time flies when you have kids. I've been told this many times, but when you are in the trenches of motherhood, it's hard to see the end of the road. As I was sitting there, I was mentally doing the math. Barring Atticus not be given an orange jump suit with the letters "DOC", I will be 57 years old by the time all of my children are out of my house. That's nearly 60!? That is, if I don't make this home so damned wonderful they even decide to leave...The notion made me shutter and simultaneously contemplate an intense chore chart.
Little did I know what I was discussing in one part of the house, was invading Nora's dreams in another...but not the good kind. Being a mom is rough, all moms know that. Being a mom of children who have lost a parent is a different kind of rough. The fears that they have aren't like all the rest of the kids they know. Nora isn't the first one to express it, but her fear lies in what happens when I die. What will happen to her if I should die? Will she have to live all by herself? She doesn't want to be alone. As she is telling me this the next day, as it took her 12 hours to get the courage to talk about it, tears are streaming down her face. She actually looks like she is in pain even describing what she dreamt, how she felt, where her fear was. My heart broke. I tried to reassure her that she wouldn't be alone. I tried to tell her that if something happened to me, there would be someone here. I was careful with my words as I know all too well the phrase "take the place" is a line of crap...
This conversation was eye opening to say the least. I ditched the mental chore chart and started to think about what I get to do in the next 17 years. What I get to see raising these kids...knowing their potential...watching them grow into these cool people I see them becoming. I get to see them happy, get to console them when they are not, and get to hear them, as they have no internal volume. Silver Lining? I get to be their Mom, probably the best job I've ever had...
Tuesday, April 14, 2015
...indigestion-without-a-bathroom-in-sight
"...so, there's this 'puberty video' and I need you to sign a consent form so I can watch it...", said Oscar. I knew the time was coming. I knew I would have to choose my words correctly when I answered this statement. I knew that like everyday that passes, we were now going to be entering the rare and wonderful world of puberty...gulp.
Rewind to a couple of weeks ago. We were at Oscar's spring music program. I was noticing things... Admittedly, boys are easy to go unnoticed when it comes to puberty, and being that I have mostly boys, I hadn't noticed. But then, when the girls started stepping onto the risers to sing, it hit me like a ton of bricks. We were needing to be nearing a time for 'the video'. In between Atticus puking all over my lap, I pondered the differences that I saw. The girls were developed, and there was a VAST difference between the 5th grade and the 6th grade boys, a few of which looked like they had already started shaving...it was starting.
So, when I was handed the permission slip, I started to skim through it...I noticed that there were dates and times, and read the words practices...WHAT THE HELL WAS I READING? Thankfully, he unknowingly handed me an archery notice from his P.E. teacher first. I nearly fell over laughing. He immediately started discussing what he'd be watching, "Boys...how our bodies are changing...". I quickly tried to quell it, at least at the dinner table. In my best mother-code (with eyebrows and head tilts towards Nora) I told him that we all weren't watching the video. There WAS a reason why his grade was watching it, perhaps he should keep some information to himself. Oscar was, and as always, un-phased by what I had said. So, again, I gently mentioned that if he decided he needed to share his new found information, say with Abe, we would quickly be looking at the business end of a hissy fit. Another discussion will be forth coming...
The whole thing got me to thinking. I know I'm not delusional to believe that these boys are going to think I know anything about growing up. I know that even though I WENT THROUGH PUBERTY, I will still be a mom who grew up in the dark ages...you know the 1980s. I got to thinking about how hopefully with Nora, maybe things would be different? Maybe she would take my advice on the smallest of life lessons to ease her way into the same stage. It got me making a mental list, a guideline really of things as a girl...the one I possibly wish I had growing up.
#1...while the boy might be nice, yes you should judge him on his friends; if he hangs around morons, chances are he is one too.
#2...if you ever walk into a room, get into a car, or are generally alone with a boy, and Keith Sweat is playing- get out of there! NOW! That boy has plans, and it's not homework.
#3...if you go on a blind date, get into the boy's car, and he has platform shoes higher that any heel you own, fake sick and go home.
#4...if the boy listens to music that is disrespectful to women, chances are he is too.
#5...if a boy you are with gets cold and asks for YOUR coat, he's not a gentleman, he's a wimp and not worth your time.
#6...if the boy might not spend a lot of money, but takes the time to do something special for YOU from his heart, he is someone worth spending time with.
#7...watching a movie is code for "making out"...know what you are getting yourself into.
#8...anyone who tells you you're beautiful isn't a bad thing, as long as he is genuine...if you have to tell him he is, he is not confident enough to be around you.
#9...never let anyone tell you that being smart isn't beautiful.
#10...you are perfect the way you are, anyone who can't deal with that isn't worth dealing with.
#11...lying to your mom is wrong and she will know when you have done something wrong, at times before you even do it.
#12...loving someone means you don't have to spend every waking minute with them even though you might want to.
#13...what you have to say matters.
#14...one bad decision can effect the rest of your life.
#15...if you can't handle/aren't comfortable with it, it's not a scarlet letter, it's your conscious telling you to think.
#16...girl friends are few and far between, but you don't want those that stifle you.
#17...remember what is going on around you when you are with someone you like...one song years later can bring back memories as if you are still in the moment.
#18...treat yourself, but letting the other person treat you is okay too.
#19...being yourself will ALWAYS be better than trying to be someone else.
#20...personal hygiene is important, if he doesn't smell good now, chances are he never will.
I know that some of these aren't large revelations. Hopefully I might be able to pass along to more than Nora...but my expectations of any of my children wanting to know my opinion on such matters are low. Just tonight Oscar said he doubted the married Duggar kids ever "frenched" their spouses...I quickly changed the subject. I'm not going to sugar coat it, this whole topic gives me a feeling of indigestion-without-a-bathroom-in-sight. I'm not going to pretend I've read any books on the matter. I'm not going to pretend that I will know the right things to say when the time arises. Blind faith? Maybe. From the hip is how I plan to roll. Luckily for my ill fated kids, I have a new one...
Rewind to a couple of weeks ago. We were at Oscar's spring music program. I was noticing things... Admittedly, boys are easy to go unnoticed when it comes to puberty, and being that I have mostly boys, I hadn't noticed. But then, when the girls started stepping onto the risers to sing, it hit me like a ton of bricks. We were needing to be nearing a time for 'the video'. In between Atticus puking all over my lap, I pondered the differences that I saw. The girls were developed, and there was a VAST difference between the 5th grade and the 6th grade boys, a few of which looked like they had already started shaving...it was starting.
So, when I was handed the permission slip, I started to skim through it...I noticed that there were dates and times, and read the words practices...WHAT THE HELL WAS I READING? Thankfully, he unknowingly handed me an archery notice from his P.E. teacher first. I nearly fell over laughing. He immediately started discussing what he'd be watching, "Boys...how our bodies are changing...". I quickly tried to quell it, at least at the dinner table. In my best mother-code (with eyebrows and head tilts towards Nora) I told him that we all weren't watching the video. There WAS a reason why his grade was watching it, perhaps he should keep some information to himself. Oscar was, and as always, un-phased by what I had said. So, again, I gently mentioned that if he decided he needed to share his new found information, say with Abe, we would quickly be looking at the business end of a hissy fit. Another discussion will be forth coming...
The whole thing got me to thinking. I know I'm not delusional to believe that these boys are going to think I know anything about growing up. I know that even though I WENT THROUGH PUBERTY, I will still be a mom who grew up in the dark ages...you know the 1980s. I got to thinking about how hopefully with Nora, maybe things would be different? Maybe she would take my advice on the smallest of life lessons to ease her way into the same stage. It got me making a mental list, a guideline really of things as a girl...the one I possibly wish I had growing up.
#1...while the boy might be nice, yes you should judge him on his friends; if he hangs around morons, chances are he is one too.
#2...if you ever walk into a room, get into a car, or are generally alone with a boy, and Keith Sweat is playing- get out of there! NOW! That boy has plans, and it's not homework.
#3...if you go on a blind date, get into the boy's car, and he has platform shoes higher that any heel you own, fake sick and go home.
#4...if the boy listens to music that is disrespectful to women, chances are he is too.
#5...if a boy you are with gets cold and asks for YOUR coat, he's not a gentleman, he's a wimp and not worth your time.
#6...if the boy might not spend a lot of money, but takes the time to do something special for YOU from his heart, he is someone worth spending time with.
#7...watching a movie is code for "making out"...know what you are getting yourself into.
#8...anyone who tells you you're beautiful isn't a bad thing, as long as he is genuine...if you have to tell him he is, he is not confident enough to be around you.
#9...never let anyone tell you that being smart isn't beautiful.
#10...you are perfect the way you are, anyone who can't deal with that isn't worth dealing with.
#11...lying to your mom is wrong and she will know when you have done something wrong, at times before you even do it.
#12...loving someone means you don't have to spend every waking minute with them even though you might want to.
#13...what you have to say matters.
#14...one bad decision can effect the rest of your life.
#15...if you can't handle/aren't comfortable with it, it's not a scarlet letter, it's your conscious telling you to think.
#16...girl friends are few and far between, but you don't want those that stifle you.
#17...remember what is going on around you when you are with someone you like...one song years later can bring back memories as if you are still in the moment.
#18...treat yourself, but letting the other person treat you is okay too.
#19...being yourself will ALWAYS be better than trying to be someone else.
#20...personal hygiene is important, if he doesn't smell good now, chances are he never will.
I know that some of these aren't large revelations. Hopefully I might be able to pass along to more than Nora...but my expectations of any of my children wanting to know my opinion on such matters are low. Just tonight Oscar said he doubted the married Duggar kids ever "frenched" their spouses...I quickly changed the subject. I'm not going to sugar coat it, this whole topic gives me a feeling of indigestion-without-a-bathroom-in-sight. I'm not going to pretend I've read any books on the matter. I'm not going to pretend that I will know the right things to say when the time arises. Blind faith? Maybe. From the hip is how I plan to roll. Luckily for my ill fated kids, I have a new one...
Wednesday, April 8, 2015
...fist bump?...really?
I've said it before...and I'm saying it again. I love this little town I live in. It's small enough that you willingly wave to strangers. When you are sitting in your driveway, it's common for someone to pull up, park their car and stay a while. To some, living in a small town means everyone knows your business. To me, it just means a few more people looking out for us, even some I've never met...there's a silver lining there.
Last summer, I was sitting on the edge of the town pool...hoping to soak up some sunshine, watching my kids swim, and more importantly wear them out. There was a young mom sitting next to me. I knew we had met before, but of course my long term memory problem erased her name from my brain. We exchanged pleasantries. Then, she leaned over to me, and said, "...I don't know if you know this, but I'm a widow too..." She began to tell her story, and I sat there in awe. She was just 24 years old, with a nine month old and pregnant with another child when her husband unexpectedly passed away...
As she was telling her story, and answering my questions, I knew we had met for a bigger reason. I was in such shock of what she had been through, and how she really understood where I was more than most people...I did the most embarrassing thing...I fist bumped her. I ACTUALLY FIST BUMPED ANOTHER WIDOW?! What the hell was wrong with me? In that moment, I hope she understood that I had meant it with the utmost respect, and really with loyalty. At times, it's hard to put into words what being a widow is like...all grief is different, however some of the struggles people have in dealing is the same. Dealing with your grief and your children's grief is also a very individualized process. The fact is, we had something in common, that no one really WANTS to have in common with anyone...
Again, it's not an accident that we met. Today is the nine year anniversary of her husband's passing. Even though she's younger than I am, she will never know how much I look up to her. She is patient, understanding, kind, funny, a loving mother, a wonderful friend, and a very real human being. She has had to be a parent to her children, and continually remind her boys about their parent they've never met. She understands the ebb and flow of life, parenthood and grief that most parent's never have to...I've thought about you a lot today Sarah. And while I never got the chance to met him, Bleu would be so proud of the parent/woman/mother/friend you are today...love to you today and always.
Last summer, I was sitting on the edge of the town pool...hoping to soak up some sunshine, watching my kids swim, and more importantly wear them out. There was a young mom sitting next to me. I knew we had met before, but of course my long term memory problem erased her name from my brain. We exchanged pleasantries. Then, she leaned over to me, and said, "...I don't know if you know this, but I'm a widow too..." She began to tell her story, and I sat there in awe. She was just 24 years old, with a nine month old and pregnant with another child when her husband unexpectedly passed away...
As she was telling her story, and answering my questions, I knew we had met for a bigger reason. I was in such shock of what she had been through, and how she really understood where I was more than most people...I did the most embarrassing thing...I fist bumped her. I ACTUALLY FIST BUMPED ANOTHER WIDOW?! What the hell was wrong with me? In that moment, I hope she understood that I had meant it with the utmost respect, and really with loyalty. At times, it's hard to put into words what being a widow is like...all grief is different, however some of the struggles people have in dealing is the same. Dealing with your grief and your children's grief is also a very individualized process. The fact is, we had something in common, that no one really WANTS to have in common with anyone...
Again, it's not an accident that we met. Today is the nine year anniversary of her husband's passing. Even though she's younger than I am, she will never know how much I look up to her. She is patient, understanding, kind, funny, a loving mother, a wonderful friend, and a very real human being. She has had to be a parent to her children, and continually remind her boys about their parent they've never met. She understands the ebb and flow of life, parenthood and grief that most parent's never have to...I've thought about you a lot today Sarah. And while I never got the chance to met him, Bleu would be so proud of the parent/woman/mother/friend you are today...love to you today and always.
Sunday, March 29, 2015
...magic
Nora has been obsessed with seeing the Easter Bunny. I'm not exactly sure why? It's not like Santa. He doesn't have you tell him what you'd like in your basket. Nevertheless, Nora was on a mission. I'm not sure if she thought we would be sitting down breaking bread with the Bunny, where over a plate of pancakes he would spin yarns of all the Easters of his past. We woke up early. Had a light breakfast snack. Prayed the puke that Atticus shared on me the evening before was just a fluke. We lined up...to see the Easter Bunny...and get free pancakes.
I can still remember the first spring in this house. Everything was new. Everything that bloomed we'd never seen before. It was beautiful and scary all at the same time. Our first Easter here, we packed up the family roadster and headed to my family in Indiana. Partially because we wanted to spend Easter with them, partially because I didn't want to spend Easter here...it was something I didn't want to have to figure out, alone. Along this journey, I haven't always taken the least obstructed route, but I've had to take the one that would work for me. In that process I have, at times, ran from things that were just too hard to handle at that moment. In the beginning it was my coping mechanism, all the while knowing that some day, the expiration date would come up and I'd have to actually start dealing...but that was someday.
As she stood there in line to get seated for breakfast, Nora stared at the unfortunate employee dressed in an Easter Bunny costume. Thankfully, the costume wasn't freakish, and it didn't seem to deter her from wanting to go up and chat. After a minute in line, she asked if she could go talk to him. I said sure, and asked if Atticus maybe wanted to go with her. Atticus' response was "...I'm staying in line." Nora went up, shook hands with the Bunny, and told him all about her stuffed rabbit named 'Bob'. In that moment it sort of hit me...I knew why she had a slight obsession. I knew why she had envisioned pancakes with this rodent...because she's a kid. And believing in something, even if you know it's a little far fetched, is what it's all about. She knew who she was talking to was someone dressed up, but believing in some magic is what is important.
Driving down the road the other day, it hit me...actually, it was something someone said to me. Walking into a store I saw someone I knew and she said, "...boy, you're brave! Taking all those kids with you?" I smiled (kind of thought "duh") and said, "...yep, every minute of my life..." It occurred to me later, the expiration date that I had been dreading so fiercely, it had come and gone and we were all still standing. I catch myself being comfortable with how my life has become...not terrified about how it's all going to work.
Cone of honesty? That's a lie. Kids terrify the crap out of me with puberty around the corner I might need real meds, but I digress...I know now that running away isn't necessary, accepting change is still difficult, but it's inevitable. I feel like even though were aren't your typical family, the way we work is what works for us. There is yelling, there is "Bear Poking", there are arguments, and there are a few of my kids that I think get tired of hearing their own name. But, then there are the times when we sit, all together, watching mindless TV, laugh our heads off and joke and it just feels like we've graduated. We are no longer a hapless crew, trying to understand the reasons for change, we accept it and know it has made us who we are...it's our little bit of magic.
I can still remember the first spring in this house. Everything was new. Everything that bloomed we'd never seen before. It was beautiful and scary all at the same time. Our first Easter here, we packed up the family roadster and headed to my family in Indiana. Partially because we wanted to spend Easter with them, partially because I didn't want to spend Easter here...it was something I didn't want to have to figure out, alone. Along this journey, I haven't always taken the least obstructed route, but I've had to take the one that would work for me. In that process I have, at times, ran from things that were just too hard to handle at that moment. In the beginning it was my coping mechanism, all the while knowing that some day, the expiration date would come up and I'd have to actually start dealing...but that was someday.
As she stood there in line to get seated for breakfast, Nora stared at the unfortunate employee dressed in an Easter Bunny costume. Thankfully, the costume wasn't freakish, and it didn't seem to deter her from wanting to go up and chat. After a minute in line, she asked if she could go talk to him. I said sure, and asked if Atticus maybe wanted to go with her. Atticus' response was "...I'm staying in line." Nora went up, shook hands with the Bunny, and told him all about her stuffed rabbit named 'Bob'. In that moment it sort of hit me...I knew why she had a slight obsession. I knew why she had envisioned pancakes with this rodent...because she's a kid. And believing in something, even if you know it's a little far fetched, is what it's all about. She knew who she was talking to was someone dressed up, but believing in some magic is what is important.
Driving down the road the other day, it hit me...actually, it was something someone said to me. Walking into a store I saw someone I knew and she said, "...boy, you're brave! Taking all those kids with you?" I smiled (kind of thought "duh") and said, "...yep, every minute of my life..." It occurred to me later, the expiration date that I had been dreading so fiercely, it had come and gone and we were all still standing. I catch myself being comfortable with how my life has become...not terrified about how it's all going to work.
Cone of honesty? That's a lie. Kids terrify the crap out of me with puberty around the corner I might need real meds, but I digress...I know now that running away isn't necessary, accepting change is still difficult, but it's inevitable. I feel like even though were aren't your typical family, the way we work is what works for us. There is yelling, there is "Bear Poking", there are arguments, and there are a few of my kids that I think get tired of hearing their own name. But, then there are the times when we sit, all together, watching mindless TV, laugh our heads off and joke and it just feels like we've graduated. We are no longer a hapless crew, trying to understand the reasons for change, we accept it and know it has made us who we are...it's our little bit of magic.
Thursday, February 12, 2015
...how's your view?
"If I knew then what I know now..." is a concept that readily swims around in my head from time to time...like at times long enough for it to get 'pruned' fingers. Most of the time you hear this spoken it lends itself to regret and pain. It's some cautionary thought about how life/situations/time could have been better. I learned a phrase during my formative years, "...it's not better or worse, it's just different" and I think subconsciously it has taken over. And unknowingly and thankfully it has saved me at times.
Each of my children's reason for existence is very different...that sounds cryptic. What I mean is that the reasons I feel I'm lucky enough to be their parent is different. Sure I believe they were all put on this earth to accomplish something unique and exciting, but it's more. I identify who they are and what they will be maybe the most in my heart.
Oscar miracle baby. We were told we'd probably not be able to get pregnant, due to anti rejection medication that Jason was on. When we found out we did, it wasn't a feeling of "HA! TAKE THAT WESTERN MEDICINE!" It was more like the feeling of being blessed. Blessed to be parents. Blessed to have an answered prayer. Blessed to have the chance to watch something that was just ours grow. He's possibly a bit spoiled, being the oldest. He's at times a bit too literal with his thoughts. He's like granite; beautifully, endlessly layered and at times hard to crack. He was brought to this earth to engage in a unique way, with his interesting insights on life and endless creativity.
Abe was the affirmation, clearly we might no longer have a problem getting pregnant. Having babies 18 months apart gets you some very interesting looks, as if perhaps we needed another hobby. Why does anyone feel it necessary to actually say, "...you know what causes that, don't you?" Gross. At any rate, he was this whirlwind of a baby, a tad clingy, a tad ornery, but completely adorable. Always ready to entertain. Always ready to play. Always quick to pick up exactly what you NEVER wanted anyone to repeat. He's bright, entertaining, and caring. He holds this unbelievable ability to connect with the smallest of children, engage them, and wants to teach them. He was brought to this earth to be a father, first and foremost.
Nora. In a house where everyone stood to pee BUT me, Nora was the daughter I desperately needed. She was this tiny little thing in the beginning, and watching the men in my life turn to putty around her...was something I'll never forget. She's quick with a joke. Her volume is sometimes nonexistent. She's an old sole, the likes of which I cannot even put an age to. She has helped me when I really felt like giving up. She has understood, even when I couldn't answer her question. She was brought to this earth to help me remember the value of another female-drama and all. Not sure if she'll ever be a mother, but I am convinced that she will be some one's best friend.
Atticus, the truest end. He is the embodiment of the notion that you are capable of doing anything, if only you believe in yourself. He's strong willed. He fears very little. He has no concept of the word can't. I truly believe he'll never use it. He is sort of the best mix of all of his siblings. He walks up to any kid and asks them to be his friend. He is quick to show love, but will let you know if you've ticked him off. He's creative, compassionate, entertaining and a thinker. He sort of has embodied more than I probably ever thought he would at the time he was born. He has been my benchmark on parenting, if he's jacked up, well there's only me to thank for that. He will forever be my reminder that life, no matter what you are thrown, does go on...what the view looks like is entirely up to you.
We go back to the "...if I knew then what I know now...". To me, life isn't meant to be anything other than how you survive it. If I would have been told how my life would have turned after having Atticus, it would have actually been to my detriment. I would never have learned all I have about my children, or myself. I would never have been able to get past what life handed out, to understand what ELSE life CAN hand you. Yeah, I know more now than I knew then...But, tonight, when we are lighting a "3" candle on a birthday cake, I am reminding myself something. I'm reminding myself that going forward, while sometimes scary, also gives this abounding hope of what is yet to be. To my youngest, Atticus...I write this with tears in my eyes, because I think you are the bravest kid I've ever met. Let's eat that ugly cake now!
Each of my children's reason for existence is very different...that sounds cryptic. What I mean is that the reasons I feel I'm lucky enough to be their parent is different. Sure I believe they were all put on this earth to accomplish something unique and exciting, but it's more. I identify who they are and what they will be maybe the most in my heart.
Oscar miracle baby. We were told we'd probably not be able to get pregnant, due to anti rejection medication that Jason was on. When we found out we did, it wasn't a feeling of "HA! TAKE THAT WESTERN MEDICINE!" It was more like the feeling of being blessed. Blessed to be parents. Blessed to have an answered prayer. Blessed to have the chance to watch something that was just ours grow. He's possibly a bit spoiled, being the oldest. He's at times a bit too literal with his thoughts. He's like granite; beautifully, endlessly layered and at times hard to crack. He was brought to this earth to engage in a unique way, with his interesting insights on life and endless creativity.
Abe was the affirmation, clearly we might no longer have a problem getting pregnant. Having babies 18 months apart gets you some very interesting looks, as if perhaps we needed another hobby. Why does anyone feel it necessary to actually say, "...you know what causes that, don't you?" Gross. At any rate, he was this whirlwind of a baby, a tad clingy, a tad ornery, but completely adorable. Always ready to entertain. Always ready to play. Always quick to pick up exactly what you NEVER wanted anyone to repeat. He's bright, entertaining, and caring. He holds this unbelievable ability to connect with the smallest of children, engage them, and wants to teach them. He was brought to this earth to be a father, first and foremost.
Nora. In a house where everyone stood to pee BUT me, Nora was the daughter I desperately needed. She was this tiny little thing in the beginning, and watching the men in my life turn to putty around her...was something I'll never forget. She's quick with a joke. Her volume is sometimes nonexistent. She's an old sole, the likes of which I cannot even put an age to. She has helped me when I really felt like giving up. She has understood, even when I couldn't answer her question. She was brought to this earth to help me remember the value of another female-drama and all. Not sure if she'll ever be a mother, but I am convinced that she will be some one's best friend.
Atticus, the truest end. He is the embodiment of the notion that you are capable of doing anything, if only you believe in yourself. He's strong willed. He fears very little. He has no concept of the word can't. I truly believe he'll never use it. He is sort of the best mix of all of his siblings. He walks up to any kid and asks them to be his friend. He is quick to show love, but will let you know if you've ticked him off. He's creative, compassionate, entertaining and a thinker. He sort of has embodied more than I probably ever thought he would at the time he was born. He has been my benchmark on parenting, if he's jacked up, well there's only me to thank for that. He will forever be my reminder that life, no matter what you are thrown, does go on...what the view looks like is entirely up to you.
We go back to the "...if I knew then what I know now...". To me, life isn't meant to be anything other than how you survive it. If I would have been told how my life would have turned after having Atticus, it would have actually been to my detriment. I would never have learned all I have about my children, or myself. I would never have been able to get past what life handed out, to understand what ELSE life CAN hand you. Yeah, I know more now than I knew then...But, tonight, when we are lighting a "3" candle on a birthday cake, I am reminding myself something. I'm reminding myself that going forward, while sometimes scary, also gives this abounding hope of what is yet to be. To my youngest, Atticus...I write this with tears in my eyes, because I think you are the bravest kid I've ever met. Let's eat that ugly cake now!
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