...as a single mother, you question your actions, word choices, and time available. You question the quality vs. the quantity of everything, the meals you feed, the laundry you fold, the ability to multitask. It all comes to a rearing head when you add another thing to do in an already chaotic house of misfits...
Upon asking Nora to feed our new found four legged friend, she looks in the cupboard for the bowl and the food and utters, "...Well, who the hell put that up there?" I'm standing next to her as she's saying this. For a brief minute I don't know whether to be horrified or impressed by her use of the word. She said it with meaning. She used the correct meaning. It sounds like something I would say, and now appears I shouldn't say...and it's not even 7:15 a.m.
We have learned a large lesson in the last two weeks. While the addition of a dog to our family was not a whim, as I have been considering it since last Christmas, it has come with it's ample amount of obstacles. I have had a dog before...but never a dog AND four kids. I was hoping to instill some life lessons on my children by giving them a chance to take on some added responsibility. I originally figured, if we've lived this long and have done pretty well for ourselves, why not add another to the mix? Turns out, I probably should have really thought that through a bit further...as apparently, no one likes to walk the dog at night in their pajamas...no one likes to pick up random "gifts" left for us around the house...no one wants to put in the effort after a long day at school?...what? Really?
It came down to a discussion of who is doing more and whether they even want to do it. Ironically, the smallest Small is the one doing all the work along with me. At one point, in this very egalitarian conversation, Atticus states he misses the old days with no dog. He then stands up, walks across the room and sits next to me...as if to give a gesture of SOLIDARITY...it's a moment I won't forget. Time will tell if this new addition will be temporary of permanent...I haven't listed her as living her with the post office just yet.
The trials and tribulations of any family are something you are to learn from. The constant questioning on my end, self job evaluation, will be on going because if I stopped that's when I should probably be worried. With the holidays starting up, I'm noticing little things through my kids eyes. It reminds me that all of the pointless things that I do for them, that seem to go unnoticed, really are remembered. And for a moment, you can hear them recanting a story you once told about something in their hand...it's a nice invisible hug.
While going through some Christmas boxes I came upon these forgotten cards. One Thanksgiving after we had moved here I wrote up these cards for each of the kids. On each card I wrote the reasons I was thankful for them. I started reading them, and almost started crying. For all the days that I feel like I'm drowning, barely making it work, no longer care the profanity that comes either out of my mouth or my kids...On this day, when I sat down to write out the simple things about my kids that I love...I got it right.
Being reminded that you are surviving, thriving, at times swearing, is something that I don't think you ever stop needing. That reassurance that something so simple can build you up when you probably need it the most. The house hasn't burned down...I probably need to shower...this damned dog might kill my will at times...But I am forever grateful, knowing that my blessings are counted by 4s.
Tuesday, November 24, 2015
Tuesday, November 3, 2015
...I want a new drug...
I don't care who knows it...I loved Huey Lewis and the News. My first record was their 1984 album Sports. I knew every song on that album word for word when I was 10 years old. Lately, a song has been playing in my head of theirs...unusual really as you don't hear a lot of them these days. It wasn't until the other day when I was confronted with a statement from Nora, the song's lyrics made sense.
Nora walked in from school, put her book bag down, and said, "Mom, we need to talk..." I turned and looked at her. With the most serious face she says to me, "...Mom...I don't know how to tell you this...you're a drug addict, you drink beer and coffee..." I asked her how health class was today, and then told her that I don't really drink beer. She then asked,"...what about the coffee, it's a drug you know?!" I told her that I was a single mother of four, and if she could walk into the grocery store and buy what I drink in the pre-dawn hours of the day, it wasn't a drug.
Saturday it will be 3 years since Jason has passed. At times it is a struggle to try and remember what life was like. Other times, it's as easy as blinking. I've had conversations with my kids. The Talls told me that they don't really remember what it was like with their dad here. I told them that the daily routine wasn't worth remembering half as much as just things about Jason. While it terrifies me to be that open with them, I'm grateful at the same time that we have some sort of dialog open. Some have extended dialog, others would rather retell me fart jokes than deal with 'feelings'. We are at a strange interchange. At times I am left wondering if what my kids are going through at times is grief or just adolescent bullshit. Are they dealing, or do I just want to take drugs to deal with them?
There is a stunning lack of notion of the phrase ROLE MODEL in this house. The fact that Nora and I are outnumbered by boys is bad enough. When you add the tiniest member to the Merry-Band-Of- Weirdos? That's when I hit the wall. I realize that no one thinks it's cool to be a role model anymore, but at this point I've contemplated paying for that service in this house. The way you treat others is a direct reflection on how you want to be treated...(crickets)...the golden rule...(crickets). I swear to Mary, Jesus, and Joseph if you teach your brother or sister to say that limerick, ever, I'm letting the Amish pick you up on Tuesday!...seems to get the point across, for a while.
It's strange, but I always wondered what 3 years would look like...when I couldn't even begin to understand how I would make any of this work. I wondered if we would get our act together. I wondered if it would be easier, more light hearted, less painful, normal. Who knew that the answer to those quandaries would be yes and no...to all of them at any given time. In the beginning I had my habits, my methods, my time alone to quietly deal with stuff...that time is few and far between anymore. Things that once helped me through aren't working...to quote Huey Lewis "...I Want A New Drug..." Figuratively speaking of course.
Today, I was given a compliment that I probably will never forget and I don't think it was even intended to be. A dear friend that I have made here in Canton told me that even though she really never met Jason, she feels like she knew him based on us...our family...the stories we've told...how we interact...and that Jason had to have been a great guy, he picked me to spend his life with. It made me not wonder where we'd be in 3 years, but grateful where I have been and where we have been in the last 3 years. The way we've grown, things we've done, and how very far we have come. My heart aches for my kids, rather routinely, that they don't have this one person missing from their lives. My mind reaches to tell them stories they might have never heard before about their dad. My soul knows that no matter how I would have planned my life, this is how it was supposed to be, lucky enough to have known and loved, blessed beyond measure from the beyond, and forever grateful for the stories that come with it...and yes, at times it has come with a bourbon.
Nora walked in from school, put her book bag down, and said, "Mom, we need to talk..." I turned and looked at her. With the most serious face she says to me, "...Mom...I don't know how to tell you this...you're a drug addict, you drink beer and coffee..." I asked her how health class was today, and then told her that I don't really drink beer. She then asked,"...what about the coffee, it's a drug you know?!" I told her that I was a single mother of four, and if she could walk into the grocery store and buy what I drink in the pre-dawn hours of the day, it wasn't a drug.
Saturday it will be 3 years since Jason has passed. At times it is a struggle to try and remember what life was like. Other times, it's as easy as blinking. I've had conversations with my kids. The Talls told me that they don't really remember what it was like with their dad here. I told them that the daily routine wasn't worth remembering half as much as just things about Jason. While it terrifies me to be that open with them, I'm grateful at the same time that we have some sort of dialog open. Some have extended dialog, others would rather retell me fart jokes than deal with 'feelings'. We are at a strange interchange. At times I am left wondering if what my kids are going through at times is grief or just adolescent bullshit. Are they dealing, or do I just want to take drugs to deal with them?
There is a stunning lack of notion of the phrase ROLE MODEL in this house. The fact that Nora and I are outnumbered by boys is bad enough. When you add the tiniest member to the Merry-Band-Of- Weirdos? That's when I hit the wall. I realize that no one thinks it's cool to be a role model anymore, but at this point I've contemplated paying for that service in this house. The way you treat others is a direct reflection on how you want to be treated...(crickets)...the golden rule...(crickets). I swear to Mary, Jesus, and Joseph if you teach your brother or sister to say that limerick, ever, I'm letting the Amish pick you up on Tuesday!...seems to get the point across, for a while.
It's strange, but I always wondered what 3 years would look like...when I couldn't even begin to understand how I would make any of this work. I wondered if we would get our act together. I wondered if it would be easier, more light hearted, less painful, normal. Who knew that the answer to those quandaries would be yes and no...to all of them at any given time. In the beginning I had my habits, my methods, my time alone to quietly deal with stuff...that time is few and far between anymore. Things that once helped me through aren't working...to quote Huey Lewis "...I Want A New Drug..." Figuratively speaking of course.
Today, I was given a compliment that I probably will never forget and I don't think it was even intended to be. A dear friend that I have made here in Canton told me that even though she really never met Jason, she feels like she knew him based on us...our family...the stories we've told...how we interact...and that Jason had to have been a great guy, he picked me to spend his life with. It made me not wonder where we'd be in 3 years, but grateful where I have been and where we have been in the last 3 years. The way we've grown, things we've done, and how very far we have come. My heart aches for my kids, rather routinely, that they don't have this one person missing from their lives. My mind reaches to tell them stories they might have never heard before about their dad. My soul knows that no matter how I would have planned my life, this is how it was supposed to be, lucky enough to have known and loved, blessed beyond measure from the beyond, and forever grateful for the stories that come with it...and yes, at times it has come with a bourbon.
Tuesday, September 22, 2015
...a bat in the house sucks...
...constant: regularly recurrent; continual; persistent...
There are a few things in everyone's world that are a constant...something you can always rely on happening, cringe worthy or not. These are a few of mine...
...only being 'alone' when you are cleaning the house...the only time no one cares where you are...
...some child always walks in when you are putting on/taking off your bra
...brothers always pick on sisters
...raising boys, you are bound to have to tell someone to do something with their penis
...raising girls, you are bound to have to tell them that they are over accessorized
...drama will always follow wrestling...
...creativity is beautiful, but not on the kitchen floor...
...laundry is the never ending job of a mother...
...knowing 'nothing' as a mother is perpetual and persistent
...seeing pain in your kids eyes is never easy...
...a 3yr. old's ability to speak openly, and while you may be used to it, no one else ever is...
...explaining why you have the body parts you do to a child...
...a bat in the house sucks...
...brushing teeth isn't a chore, it's a necessary life skill...
...responsibility looks great until you have it...
...game night is always looked forward to...
...no one ever turns down a doughnut...
...boys rooms always smell like a science lab...
...tampons are not toys...
...kids will repeat everything they hear...at the worst possible times...
Then there are those constants that you take for granted. Those things that inevitably happen, but remind you that there is purpose in life. These moments are what lift you up when you are down...put a smile on your face when you want to cry...revive a weary soul at the end of a day. These are a few of mine...
...listening to a child read for the first time...
...hearing someone say I love you...
...watching four kids dance around the living room to Lawrence Welk...
...laughing with friends...
...having someone understand your flaws...and still appreciate you...
...watching your kids nurture each other...
...knowing your kids are going to be amazing humans...even if they're wearing an orange jumpsuit...
...knowing someone who can make you smile with your eyes
...watching your kids become independent...
...everyone eating their dinner...
...traditions everyone wants to keep...
...looking at someone and feeling blessed to have them in your life
...watching a plan, one you've obsessed about in your head, actually work...
...when opportunity arises, no matter if you are ready, go for it
...understanding that life can prove you wrong over and over again
While some of these constants you wish would go away, others are there to show you that you hope they never do. The unvarying occurrence is something you can depend on, when you have little else to depend on. Life is full of things you might not be ready for, at least you can depend on your constants.
Then there are those constants that you take for granted. Those things that inevitably happen, but remind you that there is purpose in life. These moments are what lift you up when you are down...put a smile on your face when you want to cry...revive a weary soul at the end of a day. These are a few of mine...
...listening to a child read for the first time...
...hearing someone say I love you...
...watching four kids dance around the living room to Lawrence Welk...
...laughing with friends...
...having someone understand your flaws...and still appreciate you...
...watching your kids nurture each other...
...knowing your kids are going to be amazing humans...even if they're wearing an orange jumpsuit...
...knowing someone who can make you smile with your eyes
...watching your kids become independent...
...everyone eating their dinner...
...traditions everyone wants to keep...
...looking at someone and feeling blessed to have them in your life
...watching a plan, one you've obsessed about in your head, actually work...
...when opportunity arises, no matter if you are ready, go for it
...understanding that life can prove you wrong over and over again
While some of these constants you wish would go away, others are there to show you that you hope they never do. The unvarying occurrence is something you can depend on, when you have little else to depend on. Life is full of things you might not be ready for, at least you can depend on your constants.
Sunday, August 30, 2015
...safety word
Sometimes lately, I feel like throwing in the towel and I hate it. I'm not sure if I was mentally unprepared for the start of school...or unable to get into a routine again once school has started? Lately I feel like I am seemingly at the brink and out of ammo. Wishing sometimes I could just schedule a mental breakdown in advance, be it for me or my children, just to know it's arrival and departure...Tuesdays at 2:17? Sure that will work. But life doesn't give you the luxury of doing that, I guess I can dare to dream.
In two days Atticus starts preschool. I've been asked numerous times, "...what will you do with your free time?" I always find it funny that people say that. It's not like a week's vacation. It's not like I'm being sent to an island paradise, with cabana servers and a fruity cocktail...It's only four hours a week that I will be alone. But to be honest, it is just as foreign as a vacation...time alone. I don't normally get that during daylight hours. I could count on one hand the times that I have been alone in my own house. It is going to be odd, wonderful, strange, exciting, and bizarre all at the same time. I've waited 11 years for this...sounds unusual to say it like that but it's true. With every other child that has started school, I was pregnant with another one, and the notion of being alone was, well, and alien concept. Right now I'm just happy I have four hours a week that I won't have to worry where Atticus has escaped to...
That's right. I have a little wanderer on my hands. He asks to go outside, and I tell him he has to stay in our yard until I get out there with him. He looks up at me with those big blue eyes, smiling with his dimples deep enough to swim laps in, and he says, "...yes Mommy, I will stay in our yard." Cut to me 4 minutes later, I'm outside looking for him. I wondered if he wandered in to go to the bathroom when I wasn't looking. The next thing I know, he's walking out of the neighbors' back door. The same neighbors (sainted by the way) that he just walked right into their house and started playing with their son. HOLY CRAP! I'm THAT mom. The one who's kid wanders away and into people's homes! Thankfully, I can also look at it like my neighbors are so nurturing Atticus is comfortable to be in their home...either way, the kid is going to give me a drinking problem.
I despise giving up, giving in, or throwing in the towel. There's no shame in it, knowing your limits means knowing yourself...understanding your strengths and your weaknesses. But admitting these things to yourself? Seeing them pointed out to you by your children? Or having to remind said children that there is only one adult living in this house, therefore life is different than "so-in-so" here. We have limits financially. The mental clock-out time of this adult, and the only one in this house, is possibly earlier than they would like to go to their room at night-I cannot wait for the time change in the fall. I guess I should be happy that they don't see the differences that we have with most families they know, but having to admit defeat...makes me feel already defeated.
Then tonight, while the Talls and the Smalls were wearing off their dessert, they started playing this bizarre game of dog pile. Clearly, it wasn't their first time playing it. Oscar says he'll be on the bottom first, but as soon as he says "get off" everyone has to get off of him. Abe immediately chimes in and says "No, no! You need to say PORK CHOPS!" I was like what? A safety word? And that's what they did. They all piled by age order onto Oscar. Nora was squealing the loudest, as this was the closest thing to a hug she gets from her brothers, and Atticus strategically using the coffee table to jump off of to land on top of the pile. There would have been a time when I would not have been able to watch them do this. There would have been a time when I would have been too worried that they were being rowdy and rough. But, fascinated by their use of a "safety word"...it put a lot of things into perspective in an instant. When you're getting ready to loose your shit, throw in the towel, or just give up...maybe you just need to yell out PORK CHOPS?! Maybe...
In two days Atticus starts preschool. I've been asked numerous times, "...what will you do with your free time?" I always find it funny that people say that. It's not like a week's vacation. It's not like I'm being sent to an island paradise, with cabana servers and a fruity cocktail...It's only four hours a week that I will be alone. But to be honest, it is just as foreign as a vacation...time alone. I don't normally get that during daylight hours. I could count on one hand the times that I have been alone in my own house. It is going to be odd, wonderful, strange, exciting, and bizarre all at the same time. I've waited 11 years for this...sounds unusual to say it like that but it's true. With every other child that has started school, I was pregnant with another one, and the notion of being alone was, well, and alien concept. Right now I'm just happy I have four hours a week that I won't have to worry where Atticus has escaped to...
That's right. I have a little wanderer on my hands. He asks to go outside, and I tell him he has to stay in our yard until I get out there with him. He looks up at me with those big blue eyes, smiling with his dimples deep enough to swim laps in, and he says, "...yes Mommy, I will stay in our yard." Cut to me 4 minutes later, I'm outside looking for him. I wondered if he wandered in to go to the bathroom when I wasn't looking. The next thing I know, he's walking out of the neighbors' back door. The same neighbors (sainted by the way) that he just walked right into their house and started playing with their son. HOLY CRAP! I'm THAT mom. The one who's kid wanders away and into people's homes! Thankfully, I can also look at it like my neighbors are so nurturing Atticus is comfortable to be in their home...either way, the kid is going to give me a drinking problem.
I despise giving up, giving in, or throwing in the towel. There's no shame in it, knowing your limits means knowing yourself...understanding your strengths and your weaknesses. But admitting these things to yourself? Seeing them pointed out to you by your children? Or having to remind said children that there is only one adult living in this house, therefore life is different than "so-in-so" here. We have limits financially. The mental clock-out time of this adult, and the only one in this house, is possibly earlier than they would like to go to their room at night-I cannot wait for the time change in the fall. I guess I should be happy that they don't see the differences that we have with most families they know, but having to admit defeat...makes me feel already defeated.
Then tonight, while the Talls and the Smalls were wearing off their dessert, they started playing this bizarre game of dog pile. Clearly, it wasn't their first time playing it. Oscar says he'll be on the bottom first, but as soon as he says "get off" everyone has to get off of him. Abe immediately chimes in and says "No, no! You need to say PORK CHOPS!" I was like what? A safety word? And that's what they did. They all piled by age order onto Oscar. Nora was squealing the loudest, as this was the closest thing to a hug she gets from her brothers, and Atticus strategically using the coffee table to jump off of to land on top of the pile. There would have been a time when I would not have been able to watch them do this. There would have been a time when I would have been too worried that they were being rowdy and rough. But, fascinated by their use of a "safety word"...it put a lot of things into perspective in an instant. When you're getting ready to loose your shit, throw in the towel, or just give up...maybe you just need to yell out PORK CHOPS?! Maybe...
Tuesday, August 11, 2015
...solidarity sister...
We're coming up on six years of solidarity. I cannot even tell you how excited I was to be bringing a person into the world who did not need to stand to pee. It's not that I didn't already love the boys in my life, it was just nice to know I was going to have a ally at the end of it all. I have been blessed beyond measure with this solidarity I was given almost 6 years ago...
I speak of her often mainly because she speaks, OFTEN. She has no filter, and while sometimes that can be maddening, other times it is just what I need at the end of the day. Her wisdom is beyond her years and her ability to cut right through a situation is something I hope she never looses. She understands the necessity of being able to understand that sometimes life is not fair, even when she's angry that she doesn't have a penis...her exact words...ah, the life of being out numbered.
She starts school this year on her birthday, for that I am grateful. I'm hoping it helps to quell her separation anxiety. She's excited about school lunch, and she's been told to make friends with the lunch ladies, they are some of the best people when you are a kid. The only thing she fears currently is the fact that at some point they'll be serving green beans, "...my arch nemesis!" as she calls them. We went to school today to drop off school supplies and it turns out her teacher has a birthday this week too. They decided to celebrate their birthdays on the teacher's birthday because it's on Friday, to which Nora asked if there would be dancing? I don't envy her teacher...
While the birthday short list included a treadmill, she has decided that she will ask for a metal detector for Christmas...who wants to get all the big stuff at once? She might be disappointed at her gifts. She finally decided on what sort of birthday cake she wants, and I have to say it will be a cinch! It seems the older they get the easier their requests are. She originally wanted to eat at a truck stop for her birthday dinner, because she likes the spaghetti and meatballs there. But, the boys have talked her into a family favorite Italian place.
I'm sure that the word "karma" comes into play at times with her antics, but it's just who she is. The things that come out of her mouth, well I wish I could make this crap up, but it's all her. Her brain is sometimes going 88 miles an hour, but her heart is almost as big as she is. She was the first person I saw Jason physically melt over...even if she screamed at him the first few months of her life during her late night feedings. My one wish for her, of which I cannot give her, is for her to see how crazy Jason was about her. How just plain stupid he would get around her, because she had seriously pinched a special place in his heart. My hope is that one day, she will find another man who adores her as much as he did. However, I know I am guaranteed a forever best friend, my solidarity sister...my Nora...
I speak of her often mainly because she speaks, OFTEN. She has no filter, and while sometimes that can be maddening, other times it is just what I need at the end of the day. Her wisdom is beyond her years and her ability to cut right through a situation is something I hope she never looses. She understands the necessity of being able to understand that sometimes life is not fair, even when she's angry that she doesn't have a penis...her exact words...ah, the life of being out numbered.
She starts school this year on her birthday, for that I am grateful. I'm hoping it helps to quell her separation anxiety. She's excited about school lunch, and she's been told to make friends with the lunch ladies, they are some of the best people when you are a kid. The only thing she fears currently is the fact that at some point they'll be serving green beans, "...my arch nemesis!" as she calls them. We went to school today to drop off school supplies and it turns out her teacher has a birthday this week too. They decided to celebrate their birthdays on the teacher's birthday because it's on Friday, to which Nora asked if there would be dancing? I don't envy her teacher...
While the birthday short list included a treadmill, she has decided that she will ask for a metal detector for Christmas...who wants to get all the big stuff at once? She might be disappointed at her gifts. She finally decided on what sort of birthday cake she wants, and I have to say it will be a cinch! It seems the older they get the easier their requests are. She originally wanted to eat at a truck stop for her birthday dinner, because she likes the spaghetti and meatballs there. But, the boys have talked her into a family favorite Italian place.
I'm sure that the word "karma" comes into play at times with her antics, but it's just who she is. The things that come out of her mouth, well I wish I could make this crap up, but it's all her. Her brain is sometimes going 88 miles an hour, but her heart is almost as big as she is. She was the first person I saw Jason physically melt over...even if she screamed at him the first few months of her life during her late night feedings. My one wish for her, of which I cannot give her, is for her to see how crazy Jason was about her. How just plain stupid he would get around her, because she had seriously pinched a special place in his heart. My hope is that one day, she will find another man who adores her as much as he did. However, I know I am guaranteed a forever best friend, my solidarity sister...my Nora...
Sunday, August 9, 2015
...liberation
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...
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 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...
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