LIBERATION: emancipation, salvation, release...All of these words mean the same thing. To a single mother of four, who has been a stay at home mom for 11 years, their meanings are more heavily weighed than can actually be described. The words alone cannot come close to the feelings that are associated with them. And while I am not totally there yet, seeing these words on the horizon definitely changes the day to day game.
It's here. Just a scant few days and school will be starting. We're armed with supplies, a new outfit, backpacks and the mindset that also must go along with a new year of adventure. I have friends who are sending their last ones off to school this year. They are saddened by this milestone, and I understand but I couldn't relate...getting everyone into school has been my subliminal goal for the last 3 years...
I couldn't relate until Atticus picked out a backpack for preschool yesterday. Such a simple act. He stood there, really just wanting a thermos, but deciding what bag he wanted. It sort of hit me...Life is indeed moving on. Watching him, proudly pick up that backpack. His posture changed, his face changed. It gave me a frenzied combination of feeling sadness and LIBERATION. It was like I was watching him grow right before my eyes. How was this possible? What will I do with actual "free time"? The options are limitless! But we are not quite there yet, so I have some time to figure that one out...
However, the feeling of liberation has set in in other ways this week. Upon talking to Oscar about having a babysitter, he bluntly stated, "...why can't I just babysit?" I was shocked he even wanted to. I was beginning to tell him that he just wasn't old enough while I was looking up the Missouri laws, and there it was...11. 11? Really, eleven is old enough? As I was reading aloud I looked up to see a giant smirk on his face. He plainly said next, "...well, it's the law.." So, considering I was only going down the street for a while I decided to let him. We discussed the rules, the jobs he had to fulfill, and of course the payment. I questioned his ability to be able to be taken seriously, or even act responsibly and I was slightly ashamed I felt those things when I cam home. I came home to find everyone had had a bath, the house clean (he even got out the vacuum), all in bed and nothing broken...ah, liberation...
The feeling of it being ground hog day is the best way to describe my life at times. Everyday is just about the same from when the sun comes up until it sets. But now, things are shifting. The daily tasks, while mainly still done by me, are becoming things I don't have to do alone. The mindset that responsibility can mean more than just mowing the lawn and not getting paid for it. The feeling of liberation abounds and it has given me a special twinkle in my eye...so if you see me and I look like I might be tweaked out on something...don't call the authorities, it's just a little LIBERATION kicking in...
Sunday, August 9, 2015
Sunday, August 2, 2015
...This week, on a very special episode of The Hunt Family Ranch...
...separation anxiety, masturbation, summoning of spirits, puberty smells, potty training, a slowly breaking down dishwasher, and a notice that it will cost $2000 to fix my mini-van (ugh, I hate those last hyphenated words)...No, your leg is not hurting because we are not having dessert...No, you have asked 6 times in the last hour to go to Steak-N-Shake...No, we are not going to Disneyworld...No, you have no need to drink coffee, you haven't suffered enough of life yet. This...was...my...week.
Potty training...while crossing my legs and fingers, is working...Thanks to some very beautiful friends who steered me to the use of THE MOON. It has been hilarious to watch the rest of those who wear underwear step in and manage situations before I can even get to them. The best was when Abe said, "...Mom, you are not going to like where Atticus went to the bathroom..." Thankfully, comforters can be washed. Gratefully, 20 pairs of tiny underwear take little to know room in my washing machine. Delightedly, hopefully, optimistically, we are on the road to the toilet forever...probably should start teaching him how to clean it next...
Separation anxiety is a very real thing. It's more real when you've lost a parent. It's hard to tell a child the slight lie of "nothing is ever going to happen to me", because let's face it- I don't know that. Harder still to have to lie and say that when in your head you're thinking even if you were with me every minute of the day something could still happen to me. The fears my kids have aren't the same of their friends, thankfully they don't really understand that, and I hope they never will.
The discussion of masturbation was interesting, terrifying, and I thought quick on my feet for responses. Somehow I parlayed it into the notion of eating ice cream for every meal, it wouldn't be good for you to do all the time...? It won't be the last conversation about the topic, but I'm armed with answers for the next time it comes around- here's hoping never...and that's all I will say about that.
I had a very consoling conversation the other day. We were talking about the phrase, "...everything happens for a reason..." My friend said, and nearly read my mind, that's crap. Why in the world would some things happen? Do you think God wanted that to happen? She went on to say, she never says that to someone, she just tells them "...you know what? Life just sucks sometimes. Sucky things happen to good people for no reason, and that sucks" I loved it. I love her for her honesty and her ability in that moment to bring together what was going on in my head. I needed to hear that because it broke it down to the very core. So, with this knowledge you take what's thrown at you, hope to duck and move on...
The fact that I am a mother, I will never begrudge. The fact that I get to see these people who came from me grow and flourish, I will never begrudge. The fact that I have had some very real conversations this week, knowing full well each one of my words must be chosen carefully and tactfully, has had my brain in overload. It's like we are an afterschool special in this house this week. I'm waiting to see the promo on TV, "...This week, on a very special episode of The Hunt Family Ranch..." I think I need to buy bigger bottles of vodka...
Potty training...while crossing my legs and fingers, is working...Thanks to some very beautiful friends who steered me to the use of THE MOON. It has been hilarious to watch the rest of those who wear underwear step in and manage situations before I can even get to them. The best was when Abe said, "...Mom, you are not going to like where Atticus went to the bathroom..." Thankfully, comforters can be washed. Gratefully, 20 pairs of tiny underwear take little to know room in my washing machine. Delightedly, hopefully, optimistically, we are on the road to the toilet forever...probably should start teaching him how to clean it next...
Separation anxiety is a very real thing. It's more real when you've lost a parent. It's hard to tell a child the slight lie of "nothing is ever going to happen to me", because let's face it- I don't know that. Harder still to have to lie and say that when in your head you're thinking even if you were with me every minute of the day something could still happen to me. The fears my kids have aren't the same of their friends, thankfully they don't really understand that, and I hope they never will.
The discussion of masturbation was interesting, terrifying, and I thought quick on my feet for responses. Somehow I parlayed it into the notion of eating ice cream for every meal, it wouldn't be good for you to do all the time...? It won't be the last conversation about the topic, but I'm armed with answers for the next time it comes around- here's hoping never...and that's all I will say about that.
I had a very consoling conversation the other day. We were talking about the phrase, "...everything happens for a reason..." My friend said, and nearly read my mind, that's crap. Why in the world would some things happen? Do you think God wanted that to happen? She went on to say, she never says that to someone, she just tells them "...you know what? Life just sucks sometimes. Sucky things happen to good people for no reason, and that sucks" I loved it. I love her for her honesty and her ability in that moment to bring together what was going on in my head. I needed to hear that because it broke it down to the very core. So, with this knowledge you take what's thrown at you, hope to duck and move on...
The fact that I am a mother, I will never begrudge. The fact that I get to see these people who came from me grow and flourish, I will never begrudge. The fact that I have had some very real conversations this week, knowing full well each one of my words must be chosen carefully and tactfully, has had my brain in overload. It's like we are an afterschool special in this house this week. I'm waiting to see the promo on TV, "...This week, on a very special episode of The Hunt Family Ranch..." I think I need to buy bigger bottles of vodka...
Tuesday, July 28, 2015
...screwed-the-pooch
...the audience was intently listening to the escape artist explain in great detail all about his various escapes made. They listened as he told stories of how and where all of his escapes had made him famous. It was not until he started showing the audience his collection of thumb and handcuffs and various neck shackles that I hear a familiar sound. It was when he brought out his neck shackles, I hear Abe in the front row say more than rather loudly, "...MY MOM NEEDS SOME OF THOSE..."
It's hard to break old habits. We are two weeks out from school starting. This year I am sending three eager kids off to school. They are ready. They are willing. And I imagine that will end about the cusp of September. The summer flew by us, and now I am mentally gearing up to start the routine of structure, homework, and with any luck earlier bed times. The habits we have acquired over the summer might be hard to break...harder still to have to admit that some of the habits you have aren't going to help you in the long run.
I say I'm only sending three kids to school, because I have a fourth child who has no desire to leap over the threshold of growing up. He has no desire to ever get out of diapers. He has no desire to even try. I am at the end of my quickly fraying mental rope trying to understand how to get through to him. Yes, it is the old habit of taking the easier route. These old habits of over looking the reality of what is before us, because "...we'll deal with that later..." Well, later starts September 1st, and at this point I'd say we screwed-the-pooch on that summer goal.
I'm excited about the school year starting, even more excited to watch Nora start school this year. She is more than ready and it will be fun to watch it through a new/female set of eyes. Hopefully she will be more descriptive of her day than her brothers were- got there, learned something, ate a snack, played outside, came home...However, with all of this new excitement, I'm finding it hard to juggle the things I might have praised myself for a year ago. It depresses me. I isolate myself at times because I don't want my dysfunction to hurt or spill onto other people and in the process I end up hurting them more. I just find myself not knowing if I'm overwhelmed or facing a bad habit in the face...the habit of avoidance.
I probably never consciously knew it at the time (maybe I did), but I used avoidance after Jason passed away like I might actually be getting paid to do so. For me it was easier to avoid having to deal with something I might be feeling, because I could always use the excuse that I didn't have time. I have four kids to try to navigate through an uncertain world. And I have been blessed with the very best people in my life, that knew they couldn't do the feeling for me, but were there for me. Again, it was my habit to avoid it, almost cocky enough to think that I wouldn't have to go back and pick up those feelings again...like I was some how superior.
Now I find myself, sort of stunted...like I'm tumbling backward at times, all because I didn't just face my habit. And now I find myself in a place where there is no choice but to. So, little did my volume-lacking son knew, I have a pair of neck shackles, in fact we all do...but they are invisible. They are the habits, the feelings, the fears, the avoidance that at times weigh us down, even when no one else can see them. I thankfully don't need a jet black toupee like the escape artist we saw today...But dealing with all of the above is how we will all inevitably escape...
It's hard to break old habits. We are two weeks out from school starting. This year I am sending three eager kids off to school. They are ready. They are willing. And I imagine that will end about the cusp of September. The summer flew by us, and now I am mentally gearing up to start the routine of structure, homework, and with any luck earlier bed times. The habits we have acquired over the summer might be hard to break...harder still to have to admit that some of the habits you have aren't going to help you in the long run.
I say I'm only sending three kids to school, because I have a fourth child who has no desire to leap over the threshold of growing up. He has no desire to ever get out of diapers. He has no desire to even try. I am at the end of my quickly fraying mental rope trying to understand how to get through to him. Yes, it is the old habit of taking the easier route. These old habits of over looking the reality of what is before us, because "...we'll deal with that later..." Well, later starts September 1st, and at this point I'd say we screwed-the-pooch on that summer goal.
I'm excited about the school year starting, even more excited to watch Nora start school this year. She is more than ready and it will be fun to watch it through a new/female set of eyes. Hopefully she will be more descriptive of her day than her brothers were- got there, learned something, ate a snack, played outside, came home...However, with all of this new excitement, I'm finding it hard to juggle the things I might have praised myself for a year ago. It depresses me. I isolate myself at times because I don't want my dysfunction to hurt or spill onto other people and in the process I end up hurting them more. I just find myself not knowing if I'm overwhelmed or facing a bad habit in the face...the habit of avoidance.
I probably never consciously knew it at the time (maybe I did), but I used avoidance after Jason passed away like I might actually be getting paid to do so. For me it was easier to avoid having to deal with something I might be feeling, because I could always use the excuse that I didn't have time. I have four kids to try to navigate through an uncertain world. And I have been blessed with the very best people in my life, that knew they couldn't do the feeling for me, but were there for me. Again, it was my habit to avoid it, almost cocky enough to think that I wouldn't have to go back and pick up those feelings again...like I was some how superior.
Now I find myself, sort of stunted...like I'm tumbling backward at times, all because I didn't just face my habit. And now I find myself in a place where there is no choice but to. So, little did my volume-lacking son knew, I have a pair of neck shackles, in fact we all do...but they are invisible. They are the habits, the feelings, the fears, the avoidance that at times weigh us down, even when no one else can see them. I thankfully don't need a jet black toupee like the escape artist we saw today...But dealing with all of the above is how we will all inevitably escape...
Thursday, July 9, 2015
...those fellas are trouble...
...why the hell did I schedule this appointment so damned early? It was a reflex I guess. Still, even before 8 am, I find it oddly soothing in the orthodontist's office. It's a time I can catch up on social media, reading and sort of tuning out...all the while the kids are entertained by the kiddie table. I can't be certain, but I think the receptionist has grown to love us. The volume changes when we walk in the door. Today I made sure to reinforce the notion, "...do you see how picked up this area is? When we leave it should look the same way..." But in all honesty, I didn't really care. It's just the sort of public-service-announcement that has to be said when you walk into a quiet office with what would appear to be four contestants on Lets Make A Deal...
While my best friend was visiting last week, we discussed... a lot. We have these chat sessions all the time, but when we are together, they seem to be more intense. We talked about where our lives were going. What we felt we wanted to do next. How our lives had changed. She reminded me that not two years ago, we sat, at times crying, but still discussing the same things...boldly (perhaps naively) thinking that we'd have it all figured out by now. But, the harsh reminders are, when you think you have one thing figured out, everything else grows and changes around it. Some of the things you worry about, while they are no longer on the surface anymore, they sort of morph into something different. I told her that I wished I could talk to Jason sometimes. I found it interesting that she asked me why? So, I told her that I wanted to talk to him sometimes to ask him if I was doing things right or what I should do next. Her answer will never leave my memory...She simply said, "...what could he tell you that you don't already know yourself? Why would he have all the answers? I think you might be giving him too much credit..."
I had to hold back a chortle today when someone asked pointing at the kids, "Are they all yours?" Now, in all honesty, in the summer, these kids look very different from each other. We have a wide variety of skin tones represented. I told someone the other day that my kids resemble a UNICEF advertisement. Nora answered first, "those fellas are trouble (pointing to her brothers, strangely sitting very quiet next to each other)" I turned around and said, " Those kids? Yes, every minute of every day...unless they were touching the mannequins, in which case I've never seen them before in my life..." As a mom, I constantly question where they are emotionally. I worry I am not maybe giving them the support they need when they freak out and do something completely asinine...I question what I need to do. I guess if I didn't I wouldn't be doing my job...
But, I'm beginning to realize that their antics might not have anything to do with the reality they've been given. It might just be that they are kids. Is it wrong that I find that oddly reassuring? I got a little sass talk the other day from one of the Talls, and it dawned on me, PRAISE JESUS, THEY'RE JUST BEING ANNOYING KIDS and nothing more. I actually started laughing. It was exciting to me that my "precious-gifts", this time being represented as an annoying 11year old, was not having an actual emotional crisis...he was just being a kid. And I'm beginning to realize that there no oracles on parenting. There are no books that can really help, because no one has all of the answers. For once, in a very long time, while knowing who my kids are, being clueless as to what they are going to try to pull next is just the kind of simpleminded cocktail that I will take...on a side note, laughing at a dramatic tween is actually kind of fun.
While my best friend was visiting last week, we discussed... a lot. We have these chat sessions all the time, but when we are together, they seem to be more intense. We talked about where our lives were going. What we felt we wanted to do next. How our lives had changed. She reminded me that not two years ago, we sat, at times crying, but still discussing the same things...boldly (perhaps naively) thinking that we'd have it all figured out by now. But, the harsh reminders are, when you think you have one thing figured out, everything else grows and changes around it. Some of the things you worry about, while they are no longer on the surface anymore, they sort of morph into something different. I told her that I wished I could talk to Jason sometimes. I found it interesting that she asked me why? So, I told her that I wanted to talk to him sometimes to ask him if I was doing things right or what I should do next. Her answer will never leave my memory...She simply said, "...what could he tell you that you don't already know yourself? Why would he have all the answers? I think you might be giving him too much credit..."
I had to hold back a chortle today when someone asked pointing at the kids, "Are they all yours?" Now, in all honesty, in the summer, these kids look very different from each other. We have a wide variety of skin tones represented. I told someone the other day that my kids resemble a UNICEF advertisement. Nora answered first, "those fellas are trouble (pointing to her brothers, strangely sitting very quiet next to each other)" I turned around and said, " Those kids? Yes, every minute of every day...unless they were touching the mannequins, in which case I've never seen them before in my life..." As a mom, I constantly question where they are emotionally. I worry I am not maybe giving them the support they need when they freak out and do something completely asinine...I question what I need to do. I guess if I didn't I wouldn't be doing my job...
But, I'm beginning to realize that their antics might not have anything to do with the reality they've been given. It might just be that they are kids. Is it wrong that I find that oddly reassuring? I got a little sass talk the other day from one of the Talls, and it dawned on me, PRAISE JESUS, THEY'RE JUST BEING ANNOYING KIDS and nothing more. I actually started laughing. It was exciting to me that my "precious-gifts", this time being represented as an annoying 11year old, was not having an actual emotional crisis...he was just being a kid. And I'm beginning to realize that there no oracles on parenting. There are no books that can really help, because no one has all of the answers. For once, in a very long time, while knowing who my kids are, being clueless as to what they are going to try to pull next is just the kind of simpleminded cocktail that I will take...on a side note, laughing at a dramatic tween is actually kind of fun.
Tuesday, June 23, 2015
The Day My Mom Bought the Wrong Fridge
...it happened...it was only a matter of time...While the death of an appliance isn't really that big of a deal, to someone who has never bought a refrigerator, it's slightly terrifying. I'm thrifty. I look for sales. But this was something that took time, thought, mental fortitude, and guts to spend money...this wasn't a board game, this was actual life...but I already knew that I guess.
I've seen gypsies. I'm not talking on TV, I'm talking real live gypsies. I actually blame them for not being able to enjoy a once in a lifetime experience. Turns out, on that day, the bottom of the Eiffel Tower is where all the gypsies hung out. My one chance to really see this marvel of a landmark, the often used symbol of romance and elegance...and at the bottom packs of gypsies. I'm sure they were very nice people, but I started to hear them. I was warned that they have a vague communication method of clicking. You sort of slightly hear it. You start to wonder what it is. By the time you actually hear it, they have already emptied your pocket and are using your money to buy themselves the French equivalent of a hot dog. And you? You're standing there broke. But once you have witnessed their prowess, it's not something you ever forget.
Cut to me...walking into the Sears department store...with four kids. I had already given the whole "fiscally responsible" speech to my unnaturally quiet offspring in the car. They appeared to listen, they nodded their heads, so I thought, okay...good enough. We walk into the store and within 7 seconds, it hit me. This was a scene I had seen before...I could recognize the look on the sales associate's face...she was thinking a gypsy with FOUR kids who were unusually excited about kitchen appliances. After retrieving Atticus from inside one of the refrigerators, I had decided that we failed to discuss going into a store and the art of being inconspicuous...lesson learned. I can't be sure, but I'm fairly certain I heard the a sigh of relief as we left the store.
I walk this teetering line a lot. I know kids just see things, and they want it. I know kids, while they completely understand spending their own money (usually on worthless crap), they have little understanding on how 'our' money is/should/needs to be spent. I over heard Abe telling Oscar "...yeah, a water feature is cool, but it's like $500 extra and they usually break...don't even get me started on a stainless steal front..." For a minute, I thought what? So okay, someone was hearing me, and on this rare occasion they were actually listening. It is still scary to make these very expensive decisions on my own. I'm so terrified that I'll make a mistake, because let's face it, it's hard to bounce major financial questions off of a 9 year old. Sometimes I let it seriously consume me, if this is all jacked up, what ever it may be that particular day, it's my fault.
But as I was walking around Best Buy, texting people about what appliance they had, it occurred to me...I'm probably not going to be sent to a Turkish prison for buying the wrong refrigerator. My kids won't need therapy or write their tell all book from prison entitled The Day My Mom Bought the Wrong Fridge. I have to face the facts. First of all, I hate to spend big money, I'm not your average female. Secondly, from time to time it's sucky to be an adult, and suckier still when you don't have another one to fall back on. You make the hard decisions and hope someone was watching you do the right thing...all the while knowing, that in less than 24 hours, you will have a refrigerator again, and hell no does it have stainless steal front!
I've seen gypsies. I'm not talking on TV, I'm talking real live gypsies. I actually blame them for not being able to enjoy a once in a lifetime experience. Turns out, on that day, the bottom of the Eiffel Tower is where all the gypsies hung out. My one chance to really see this marvel of a landmark, the often used symbol of romance and elegance...and at the bottom packs of gypsies. I'm sure they were very nice people, but I started to hear them. I was warned that they have a vague communication method of clicking. You sort of slightly hear it. You start to wonder what it is. By the time you actually hear it, they have already emptied your pocket and are using your money to buy themselves the French equivalent of a hot dog. And you? You're standing there broke. But once you have witnessed their prowess, it's not something you ever forget.
Cut to me...walking into the Sears department store...with four kids. I had already given the whole "fiscally responsible" speech to my unnaturally quiet offspring in the car. They appeared to listen, they nodded their heads, so I thought, okay...good enough. We walk into the store and within 7 seconds, it hit me. This was a scene I had seen before...I could recognize the look on the sales associate's face...she was thinking a gypsy with FOUR kids who were unusually excited about kitchen appliances. After retrieving Atticus from inside one of the refrigerators, I had decided that we failed to discuss going into a store and the art of being inconspicuous...lesson learned. I can't be sure, but I'm fairly certain I heard the a sigh of relief as we left the store.
I walk this teetering line a lot. I know kids just see things, and they want it. I know kids, while they completely understand spending their own money (usually on worthless crap), they have little understanding on how 'our' money is/should/needs to be spent. I over heard Abe telling Oscar "...yeah, a water feature is cool, but it's like $500 extra and they usually break...don't even get me started on a stainless steal front..." For a minute, I thought what? So okay, someone was hearing me, and on this rare occasion they were actually listening. It is still scary to make these very expensive decisions on my own. I'm so terrified that I'll make a mistake, because let's face it, it's hard to bounce major financial questions off of a 9 year old. Sometimes I let it seriously consume me, if this is all jacked up, what ever it may be that particular day, it's my fault.
But as I was walking around Best Buy, texting people about what appliance they had, it occurred to me...I'm probably not going to be sent to a Turkish prison for buying the wrong refrigerator. My kids won't need therapy or write their tell all book from prison entitled The Day My Mom Bought the Wrong Fridge. I have to face the facts. First of all, I hate to spend big money, I'm not your average female. Secondly, from time to time it's sucky to be an adult, and suckier still when you don't have another one to fall back on. You make the hard decisions and hope someone was watching you do the right thing...all the while knowing, that in less than 24 hours, you will have a refrigerator again, and hell no does it have stainless steal front!
Tuesday, June 16, 2015
...our house has changed
For some reason, I stumbled upon this blog that I wrote two years ago...I frantically tried to remember just reading the title what it was about, and then I frantically tried to find it in my book. I looked and looked, and then I remembered. I remembered that there were some blogs that I didn't include...at the time when I was first editing, I couldn't include...it was just too personal. I'm not sure why I found this more personal than other things I had written, but that was where I was at the time.
I regret not including it today after reading it. I feel like it pretty much encapsulates this whole journey we are on, my kids and I. Not a whole lot has changed, other than the notion that what ever happens today, the sun will indeed come out tomorrow. It is still hard to swim through certain memories and laugh at others. So, two years and a couple of days later, I want to share it again. If you've read it before, thank you. If you are reading it for the first time, thank you. Thank you.
June 15th, 2013~ ...our house has changed
Well, hi...I've never done this before, at least written to you...you know me, I talk a lot, and I talk to you- usually in some empty room...at times with my fists/eyes in the air. I'm either asking for a little help, wondering what to do next, or just wishing I could talk to you, just one last time to tie up some lose ends. For me, tomorrow isn't going to be hard because you are not here, it's going to be hard because some memories never go away...
Nine years ago on Father's Day, you weren't exactly a father, yet. I remember the look on your face when you told your friends at a Cardinals game that you were having a 'BOY!!'. They all cheered. I remember the look on YOUR face in the delivery room after every one of our children were born. With each child your face looked different, as you were looking in their eyes, scanning these little people. Clearly, telling each one of them some special message from your heart...and then looking at me as if to say, "WE DID THAT?!". I vividly remember looking at you for many hours, each taking turns quietly sobbing, when we labored a child we never got to bring home. All the while hoping/knowing that it was the hardest thing we were going to have to do, but it would make us stronger...closer.
I remember with every one of our children, there would come a point about 3 weeks in where I would loose my shit (you were the baby person). I couldn't get it right? I couldn't understand what I was doing wrong? Or WAS THIS THING EVER GOING TO SLEEP?!? To which you would smile, take the 'thing' from me, and tell me to go to bed-as we were handing off you'd say, "...I hate to tell you this, but the same thing has happened with all of these kids, thank God I remember...". And I do...I do not know if I could have made it through with out you...you were the baby whisperer...
Sometimes I wonder if you are talking through Nora...of course she talks (and talks), but sometimes she says things, and I think, where the hell did that come from? Sort of secretly hoping it's you. Today, at the dinner table she said, "...have you noticed how our house has changed?" I tried to get her to elaborate, and she looked at me like, what part of that didn't you get? She also has been asking if I could teach her to be a lady...what do I do all day? Teach her to roll cigars? She misses you, even though she mentions it less and less. She has a laundry list of things I'm supposed to tell you if I see you at night...as if it were that easy...but now, it's sort of her nightly routine.
Atticus? You wouldn't believe it! He's EVERYWHERE all at once, can sprint through the house, and damn it, if he hasn't nearly figured out how to open the gate on the stairs. I'm contemplating just having him wear a helmet all day long to save on concussions. Today's discovery, the kid will ACTUALLY EAT A MEAL if you give him a fork. Really? ...like it's just that easy?
The boys are in Indiana, and today it really sank it that I miss them like crazy. I know they are getting well taken care of, but at times I feel guilty to enjoy the quiet that exists here at night. The WWE will resume in their room soon enough. Abe no longer needs a 'seeing eyed person' as he has decided that reading is pretty beneficial. Since the beginning of summer he's read 16 chapter books. Oscar 'keeps forgetting' about the reading challenge I gave them. But, some how as picked up stand up comedy in the last two weeks. He told me the other day that he was heading to my brother's house to visit, and that he'd get to meet my brother's "Lady Friend"...thankfully, he's helped Abe be less worried about summer camp, and I'm anxious to see if Oscar is taller than me when I see him next...weeds I tell you.
This whole thing- life, our kids, and the day to day isn't hard because I'm doing it alone...it's hard because you're not here to see what I see. I can handle the doing alone, I mean, it's not perfect, but we've made no trips to the ER, yet. It's the things that I see, the stories that I hear, the antics that happen...sometimes those things mean more if someone else can share them with you. It's the knowing that while I have my memories with you, there has been nearly a world of change that has happened that you've missed...I know you are seeing it, but the sharing it is what we all need.
I regret not including it today after reading it. I feel like it pretty much encapsulates this whole journey we are on, my kids and I. Not a whole lot has changed, other than the notion that what ever happens today, the sun will indeed come out tomorrow. It is still hard to swim through certain memories and laugh at others. So, two years and a couple of days later, I want to share it again. If you've read it before, thank you. If you are reading it for the first time, thank you. Thank you.
June 15th, 2013~ ...our house has changed
Well, hi...I've never done this before, at least written to you...you know me, I talk a lot, and I talk to you- usually in some empty room...at times with my fists/eyes in the air. I'm either asking for a little help, wondering what to do next, or just wishing I could talk to you, just one last time to tie up some lose ends. For me, tomorrow isn't going to be hard because you are not here, it's going to be hard because some memories never go away...
Nine years ago on Father's Day, you weren't exactly a father, yet. I remember the look on your face when you told your friends at a Cardinals game that you were having a 'BOY!!'. They all cheered. I remember the look on YOUR face in the delivery room after every one of our children were born. With each child your face looked different, as you were looking in their eyes, scanning these little people. Clearly, telling each one of them some special message from your heart...and then looking at me as if to say, "WE DID THAT?!". I vividly remember looking at you for many hours, each taking turns quietly sobbing, when we labored a child we never got to bring home. All the while hoping/knowing that it was the hardest thing we were going to have to do, but it would make us stronger...closer.
I remember with every one of our children, there would come a point about 3 weeks in where I would loose my shit (you were the baby person). I couldn't get it right? I couldn't understand what I was doing wrong? Or WAS THIS THING EVER GOING TO SLEEP?!? To which you would smile, take the 'thing' from me, and tell me to go to bed-as we were handing off you'd say, "...I hate to tell you this, but the same thing has happened with all of these kids, thank God I remember...". And I do...I do not know if I could have made it through with out you...you were the baby whisperer...
Sometimes I wonder if you are talking through Nora...of course she talks (and talks), but sometimes she says things, and I think, where the hell did that come from? Sort of secretly hoping it's you. Today, at the dinner table she said, "...have you noticed how our house has changed?" I tried to get her to elaborate, and she looked at me like, what part of that didn't you get? She also has been asking if I could teach her to be a lady...what do I do all day? Teach her to roll cigars? She misses you, even though she mentions it less and less. She has a laundry list of things I'm supposed to tell you if I see you at night...as if it were that easy...but now, it's sort of her nightly routine.
Atticus? You wouldn't believe it! He's EVERYWHERE all at once, can sprint through the house, and damn it, if he hasn't nearly figured out how to open the gate on the stairs. I'm contemplating just having him wear a helmet all day long to save on concussions. Today's discovery, the kid will ACTUALLY EAT A MEAL if you give him a fork. Really? ...like it's just that easy?
The boys are in Indiana, and today it really sank it that I miss them like crazy. I know they are getting well taken care of, but at times I feel guilty to enjoy the quiet that exists here at night. The WWE will resume in their room soon enough. Abe no longer needs a 'seeing eyed person' as he has decided that reading is pretty beneficial. Since the beginning of summer he's read 16 chapter books. Oscar 'keeps forgetting' about the reading challenge I gave them. But, some how as picked up stand up comedy in the last two weeks. He told me the other day that he was heading to my brother's house to visit, and that he'd get to meet my brother's "Lady Friend"...thankfully, he's helped Abe be less worried about summer camp, and I'm anxious to see if Oscar is taller than me when I see him next...weeds I tell you.
This whole thing- life, our kids, and the day to day isn't hard because I'm doing it alone...it's hard because you're not here to see what I see. I can handle the doing alone, I mean, it's not perfect, but we've made no trips to the ER, yet. It's the things that I see, the stories that I hear, the antics that happen...sometimes those things mean more if someone else can share them with you. It's the knowing that while I have my memories with you, there has been nearly a world of change that has happened that you've missed...I know you are seeing it, but the sharing it is what we all need.
Monday, June 15, 2015
...this week I was paid in moments
...I've been on a dead run for about a week. All of it was exciting. Old friends caught up with and family visited. Fun times were had...except for white knuckle driving through every storm that passed through the Midwest...But never-the-less on the go for a long stretch.
While I was home, I was blessed to be able to see two girlfriends I haven't seen in a long time...together we sat, had a cocktail, and caught up on our lives. We talked and laughed and walked down memory lane, as if no time had passed. Wereconnected started up where we left off, and it was not only good for the heart, but good for the soul. I realized while we were sitting there that these sort of friends are possibly the best ones you can have in life. While we are a little older, a little wiser, and understand more about life than we did when we were 20, we still get each other. I drove off in my car afterward smiling. Smiling because of how much fun I had. Smiling because of how much I missed them. Smiling because I just remembered how fun it was to have them in my life...for a moment I felt 20 years old again.
The ending of this whirlwind week was seeing two really fantastic people get married. It has been a couple of years since I've been to a wedding. You forget all of the things that go along with it...the family, random people wanting to drink free booze, the stresses of wanting to make sure everything is perfect. This wedding gave all of that, but the best part was it was beautiful. Not beautiful in an overdone, flashy sort of way. It was beautiful because it was simple, understated, and was all about the two people deciding to spend the rest of their lives together. It was beautiful because you knew that in these people's heads, if they were the only two people in the room, that would have been enough. It was beautiful because they didn't need anything more than each other...I was just lucky enough to witness it, lucky to be a part of their special moment.
By Sunday afternoon, I finally hit the wall, I was mentally exhausted, feeling like I was on a cold medicine buzz without the medicine. Finally, all I could do was just wait the clock out until bedtime...and the TV remote was actually in my hand. In this house that is no small victory. I turned it to the Hunger Games. I'll be honest, I've seen it, but I need story line support because I'm not sure I've ever gotten the chance to watch it all the way through. Oscar was in the room with me and asked if we could watch it all the way through. Mentally beat down, I tried to tell him that it was going to be pretty late before it was over, and the kid has seen this movie about 187 times as it's one of his favorites. There was about a 14 minute pause in the conversation with us, and then he says, "...the reason I want to watch it is because I want to watch it with you..." I suddenly woke up.
This kid watches a lot of movies, I mean A LOT. He is pretty versed at who the directors are and has read up on their methods. I think movies are his escape from anything that ails him and I can appreciate that and his desire to know more about them than just what you're shown. So, I was busy asking questions here and there because I tend to get lost in movies as I rarely get to see them in their entirety here. The next thing I know, he moves from the chair across the room and sits down next to me on the couch...unheard of. We are watching the movie, telling anyone who wants to reenact THUNDER DOME to leave the room, and I realize that we are having a rare moment. We are interacting in a way that isn't son/mother, it's friends. That hasn't happened in a while. I turn to him and say, "...you know, I'm very sorry that there isn't more of me to go around. I'm sorry that I'm outnumbered and I don't always get to give you the time you deserve..." He said, "...I know, it's okay..." I said, "no it's not, it sucks..." He said, "...yeah, but that's the way life is sometimes..."
For a moment I was sort of dumbfounded that he got that. For a moment I wondered if he knew what he was saying or just regurgitating something I've probably said to him. But in that moment I realized that sometimes you just have to catch these special moments when you can. Whether it be something you experience or something you witness, you can't recreate them. You can't make them happen even if you will them so to do. The beauty of these moments, are the glimmer of security you get from them. The fact that you can go back to them when you are feeling like you're mentally hitting the wall on your day or even your life...this week I was paid in moments...
While I was home, I was blessed to be able to see two girlfriends I haven't seen in a long time...together we sat, had a cocktail, and caught up on our lives. We talked and laughed and walked down memory lane, as if no time had passed. We
The ending of this whirlwind week was seeing two really fantastic people get married. It has been a couple of years since I've been to a wedding. You forget all of the things that go along with it...the family, random people wanting to drink free booze, the stresses of wanting to make sure everything is perfect. This wedding gave all of that, but the best part was it was beautiful. Not beautiful in an overdone, flashy sort of way. It was beautiful because it was simple, understated, and was all about the two people deciding to spend the rest of their lives together. It was beautiful because you knew that in these people's heads, if they were the only two people in the room, that would have been enough. It was beautiful because they didn't need anything more than each other...I was just lucky enough to witness it, lucky to be a part of their special moment.
By Sunday afternoon, I finally hit the wall, I was mentally exhausted, feeling like I was on a cold medicine buzz without the medicine. Finally, all I could do was just wait the clock out until bedtime...and the TV remote was actually in my hand. In this house that is no small victory. I turned it to the Hunger Games. I'll be honest, I've seen it, but I need story line support because I'm not sure I've ever gotten the chance to watch it all the way through. Oscar was in the room with me and asked if we could watch it all the way through. Mentally beat down, I tried to tell him that it was going to be pretty late before it was over, and the kid has seen this movie about 187 times as it's one of his favorites. There was about a 14 minute pause in the conversation with us, and then he says, "...the reason I want to watch it is because I want to watch it with you..." I suddenly woke up.
This kid watches a lot of movies, I mean A LOT. He is pretty versed at who the directors are and has read up on their methods. I think movies are his escape from anything that ails him and I can appreciate that and his desire to know more about them than just what you're shown. So, I was busy asking questions here and there because I tend to get lost in movies as I rarely get to see them in their entirety here. The next thing I know, he moves from the chair across the room and sits down next to me on the couch...unheard of. We are watching the movie, telling anyone who wants to reenact THUNDER DOME to leave the room, and I realize that we are having a rare moment. We are interacting in a way that isn't son/mother, it's friends. That hasn't happened in a while. I turn to him and say, "...you know, I'm very sorry that there isn't more of me to go around. I'm sorry that I'm outnumbered and I don't always get to give you the time you deserve..." He said, "...I know, it's okay..." I said, "no it's not, it sucks..." He said, "...yeah, but that's the way life is sometimes..."
For a moment I was sort of dumbfounded that he got that. For a moment I wondered if he knew what he was saying or just regurgitating something I've probably said to him. But in that moment I realized that sometimes you just have to catch these special moments when you can. Whether it be something you experience or something you witness, you can't recreate them. You can't make them happen even if you will them so to do. The beauty of these moments, are the glimmer of security you get from them. The fact that you can go back to them when you are feeling like you're mentally hitting the wall on your day or even your life...this week I was paid in moments...
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