...the only thing we have to fear...

Doubt. Dread. Uneasiness. Concern. Fears. They are an inevitable consequence of being alive I suppose. There are ones you are willing to admit. There are ones you share with hundreds of others. There are those that you, if you are lucky, have succumbed. And then, there are those fears that never really go away...those anxieties that you would never want to openly mention, as it might make you look weak and feeble.

I found out earlier this month that I will get to have a hip replacement at the end of the summer. At this point, I've considered just laying in the street at times and paying anyone to do it. It's tiresome, depressing, and painful to not be able to keep up with daily life. I feel like a 75 year old trapped in a 38 year old body. My fear, looking weak, is no longer masked by me pretending to feel okay. I limp and hobble, and all sorts of other unattractive things to try to keep step with four kids. While I welcome this surgery, it means a summer of trying to really have a lot of fun with my kids, as I will be laid up for a while afterwards.

I know what feeling powerless is like. The closet door on my 'control issues' has been removed by it's hinges. Though there I sit, in the doorway, delusional enough to think that I can stay inside this doorway and life will always work out like I plan. I'm not going to lie, it's my 'pacifier'. At times I wonder if it's a blessing or a curse to know just how fast life can change, and there's not one thing you can do about it. On one hand, I feel like owning that notion will make me less apt to taking things for granted. On the other hand of that notion, I feel like I have to be 'readied' at any moment for the bottom to fall out. I over compensate when it comes to parenting. Here comes a big truth: I perpetually live in fear that I've only got one shot to get it right, that's a healthy mindset, right? And they only have me- heaven help them. I only hope one day, while they are siting around having a cocktail together and talking about how crazy their mother was, they'll at least remember that she was also perpetually outnumbered. I'm not worried about Nora, she has life pretty much figured out...the other day the Talls got into some trouble. I walked away from them and bumped into Nora, and she looked at me and said, "Your soothing spa treatment is ready, it's time for your day off..."

I worry about a summer going by and no one learns anything. I'm odd, I know. I feel like it's the perfect time to not only do something fun, but discover a hidden talent, pick up a new hobby, enjoy a more dangerous chore...Weed-wacking? Clearly something we are going to have to work up to. Lawn mowing? The Talls are all a contradiction when it comes to this. On one hand they tell me they know what they are doing, suddenly they can't do it, they don't know how. It was interesting, each of them at different times in different places said that exact same thing to me this morning. I looked at them and said, "...well, that's awesome! You won't be able to say that tomorrow..." A comeback I will never forget, thank you.

Facing another fear a couple of months ago...I asked for help. I entered a home improvement contest by submitting an essay. I have to admit, it was sort of therapeutic to put down in words why I needed help, I think because it felt anonymous. I never in a million years figured my collection of words would be picked as a finalist...I mean come on, I'm asking for help? Fast forward a few months, hundreds of family and friends support...and I won. It was overwhelming. It was heart tugging. It made me more grateful than ever for the people I am blessed to have in my life. Those I see regularly, and those, thanks to social media, I haven't seen in years. It reminded me the fear I have about countless things I have no control over, doesn't have to exist when you have others to lean on...they are your life's silver lining. Knowing me, I won't want to literally lean on them, but knowing they are there is like a magic want to the psyche...

Wearing nothing but a superhero cape and a smile...

We're here...we've lived to tell the tale on another end to a school year. It's left me feeling like there are a dozen things I have forgotten to do...and I can't conjure up what they are. I feel like I'm slightly losing my mind, for basically no reason. Considering we spent yesterday afternoon playing outside and the biggest thrill was when the weather alarm announced it was only a test...for the next hour, all Atticus wanted to do was have Nora and Abe impersonate it. We're pretty easy to please and not too complicated around here.

I'll admit it, I'm not an Über-Active-Parent...I don't volunteer to chaperone school trips. I don't make it to the awards day. I don't attend the PTA. I don't know all the teachers in the boy's school. I don't try to pretend I even know what they do exactly from 8:20 am until 3:17 pm. I read the notices that come home, and that's where the act of parenting ends. They don't bring knives to school. They hopefully don't swear in school. They are dressed, fed, clean-ish, and ready to learn...even those scant things are a challenge some mornings. But, we live four blocks from the school and they've never come back home because they've forgotten their underwear...so, WIN! For me all the involvement is sort of pointless. It doesn't necessarily make me a better parent, and I'm realistic enough to know that my kids probably would rather me stay out of that part of their life sometimes. Last week, I felt like I had won the parenting lotto. Abe had to list someone he admired. I figured he would put some TV character, superhero, or even his Dad...he put me. For about 10 minutes my heart actually smiled, meanwhile I was thinking this kid is either a genius or just plain great...

For me summer sort of starts a new adventure. I'm not one to think, "...aw crap, they'll be home all summer" I try to think of things to keep us busy, sane, and for me out of the liquor cabinet. There are a few things the Talls WILL master this summer, mainly mowing the lawn and with any luck doing the laundry...yes, I'm willing to relinquish that power. Nora, hopefully will learn to ride the bike she was given last summer with no fear of falling. Though I think her main problem is she is too 'bootylicious' to properly master it right away. I'm hoping Atticus will say goodbye to pacifiers without losing my mind the process...and then he's onto a real bed. I mentally list a few goals, and if we hit them great, if not no one is the wiser. My mother-guilt flows so deep, I probably won't even notice. It's exciting to think of all we might do, all the pajama days/bathing suit days/movie marathon days ahead of us. But this summer, I have a secret I need to escape...

Not even going to sugar coat it, last summer we ran away. We fled the last day of school and were gone on and off all summer long. I think ideally I thought if we weren't here it would be easier...healthier...healing. I found out in that process that running away from what is in front of you (unless it is a rabid dog) only finds you bumping into it later. I remember the kids saying while last summer they had fun, they had wished they were here more. The fear of facing what might happen sometimes outweighs what might actually occur. The fear of just having to 'deal' was so terrifying, that when 'dealing' actually happened, it wasn't so bad.

My plans for the summer might make some unhappy, but I feel like this summer we needn't run, but stay put and see what happens. We need to start some summer habits, with any luck some things that we can have fun and not break any bones doing. Hopefully make some deep rooted memories that may include but not limited to Atticus running the neighborhood wearing nothing but a superhero cape and a smile...If you decide to drop in on us, you've been warned!

...toilet deodorizer as aftershave

You should know...I'm a broken record. But, there are some things, ways I live my life that are just plain necessary. They may sound 'Polly-Anna' to have to be repeated let alone even said once...But time is a mysterious thing. Time can take away from you what you most desperately need. Time can give you one last chance at something you most desperately want. Time can teach you what you inevitably wish you knew when you had the chance.

Insert the silver lining. For me, they have been necessary for survival. Finding SOMETHING POSITIVE to glean out of a situation, well it takes effort. At least it takes your mind to a place of gratefulness, even if it is for the ability to spell grateful. I guess I see them, silver linings, now more because I know how blindly I have lived my life before. Never really appreciating the things that REALLY mattered when I had the chance. The things that can't properly be recreated after the fact. The notion now that time waits for NO ONE. Fleeting doesn't even begin to describe when you missed that moment, that opportunity...My silver lining from this is, I am DAMNED grateful (and I just had auto correct fix my spelling of grateful). I am so very appreciative of those I know who care for me, those who appreciate what I do for them, and the ones who would fight for me if I needed them to. Time may wait for no one, but it has taught this one what matters.

This issue of time is poignant this weekend. Our family is all getting together for Abe's First Communion. It's hard to believe that he's not still four years old, using toilet deodorizer as aftershave any more. I'm hoping to some how avoid the phrase, "...at Oscar's First Communion..." Clearly life has happened since then. Time didn't wait. It has been tough for Abe, as there were a few things he didn't get to ever do with his Dad that Oscar did. I cannot read his mind, but if I could I think I would read a chronological list of all the things he didn't get to do with Jason. It's a tough pill to swallow, explaining time to an 8 year old. I'm hoping to fill this house with love, laughter and fun, so that the obvious might be a bit less so. Abe is the middle kid, and even though his personality is larger than life, he sometimes gets lost in the shuffle.

While shuffling, he's usually watching/playing with the younger kids without even being asked...he's just a gem...with a bit of a mouth on him, but he's earned it. I always dread these situations. Wondering if with time they will heal us/themselves? Remembering the first school program after Jason died, wondering how Abe was feeling just seeing who wasn't there. There will have to be a discussion before the end of the week. As a parent, it's like being fearful of ripping off an invisible Band-Aid. Wondering/hoping that the dialog will leave him feeling better than before it started. I would like to labor under the delusion that if the Talls wanted to talk about something, they would come and do so. But, I'm old and a woman...could never be a member of their 'Fight Club'...

I would also be lying if I said I wasn't worried about something Abe might do. He likes to fancy himself a 'showman'. I'm more than a little worried about what his Finale act might entail in front of family and our small church. I'm worried it will be seen more as a Cabaret Night, and less like a First Communion. He might surprise me, but I know it won't lack in entertainment. And there it is...my silver lining.

...cheap towels and flying horses...

Speaking in code...we all do it. Whether it be 'code' as to how you feel. Whether it be talking in 'code' to your kids to make your life easier. Or lastly, understanding when 'code' is no longer necessary, worthy, or going to cut it anymore...that's where I've been residing.

For me, the codes have become more blatant. I no longer ask, "have you brushed your teeth" It's like asking someone if what you're wearing is flattering. The answer is always and at times a little too rushed, "YES". Now, the same question is "...did you brush your teeth TODAY", as someone will always point out that they did, yesterday. If only the codes of life were so easy to figure out. No one really wants to "know how you are feeling?" They want the light, airy response that will leave them feeling good about themselves for asking...this is true if you are feeling good or bad. So, you throw them some code and continue turning clothes right side out while throwing them in the wash.

Then there are the codes which all parents speak, when being asked on a semi regular basis about babies. Where do they come from? How do they get there? How do they come out? This is when code goes into HYPER DRIVE. There are reasons I do not wish to tell my kids about the proper names for body parts. That knowledge, that power, is spilled onto complete strangers with a vengeance from my overly verbal children. So, let's spare them the anatomy lesson, and me my sanity. I am like a cheap towel when it comes to the above mentioned questions...I push off some other topic, tell them to ask a licensed physician, or point out a rainbow that is not actually there. For Nora, it usually works, though I'm not looking forward to her next doctor's appointment. I know my  code has sufficed when the next thing out of her mouth is "...you know, I think riding a flying horse would probably be a lot of fun..." We're good...for now.

Code for the Talls? As long as I somehow throw in a fart joke, mention a fictional character, or a flesh eating bacteria, their question is thwarted. It's not that I want to lie to them, or with hold information...it's more about the fact that once they know they like to spread the word...even if a disclaimer was given. This is a small town. I've already been called by the school letting me know that one of the Talls was heard explaining a word I have never even used...and it wasn't altruistic. Boys will be boys as the old saying goes. That code conversation ended with if you don't know what you are talking about, you probably shouldn't be talking. I find it interesting to see how they throw code at some of the things Nora asks..I feel like a sensei.

For me personally, the codes are changing. There will always be days when life just isn't how it was envisioned when I was 25. But, looking back I had no idea what I wanted out of life at that age. In addition, I had no idea who I really was...what the hell did I know? About the time when you think you might have it all figured out, you either get taken out at the knees or you are reminded how great you actually have it and want to pay it forward. So you end the day reminded of sage lessons you have already been given, saying: Brush your teeth before you go into your bedroom tonight. Put on your pull up after you take your clothes off. About the time when you think you are going to seriously loose your shit if you hear the phrase "chicken nuggets/fries" uttered from a two year old AGAIN...you close his door to lay him in his crib and he looks at you and whispers "...I wuv you..." And with that, you're ready to tackle all the code tomorrow gives you...

...this is livin'...

So...there are these days. They sort of sneak up on you. You have a plan, you've set a goal, and it appears you're reaching it. Sure you had to hand out two rounds of Popsicles to get it done. Yes, you had to let your nine year old use hedge trimmers (and he still has 10 fingers score!). Undoubtedly, you had to invent some 'game' so that you could clean out the garage fridge, and rake the front yard...you made it through the first round of things you want to do, and it's only 10:30? SNAP!

Clearly, the Popsicles weren't enough. The 'game' got old, and frankly, the longer the kids were outside, they knew they were in for more chores. Frankly, other than making dinner, I didn't have anything else planned...other than getting dirty. Really dirty, like the kind that leaves a ring in the tub kind of dirty. It was the most beautiful day we've had all year long, and we were going to soak it up, but first a little break.

Belly up to the counter at Steak and Shake were we. Oscar was worried, sitting so close to the workers. I think his direct quote was, "they will see me stuffing my face..." I told him, why should I always get to be the one to enjoy that? In my mind, I took a little picture. I took a picture of them, oddly enough sitting in chronological order at the counter. Watching the cooks, and shake makers do their thing. In my head, I wanted to remember them, sitting there earning their chore's reward. Atticus, he made out like a bandit, a milkshake all for not eating dirt...

Later, Nora and I cut up a little watermelon, she's been begging me for one for months. All the while I knew she'd eat one piece and be done. She ate two, but at some point I did hear her say, "...this is livin'" I started the grill, the smalls started digging (the perpetual dirt pile we need to have so they have some place to dig) and Oscar and I started talking. He wanted to know what we were grilling and could he help. Much to his surprise, I said sure...I mean, he survived hedge trimmers, let's move on to fire, shall we?

After sorting out three meals worth of meat to grill, no one but Oscar and I wanted to be outside. I started a bath for the smalls, and Abe asked if he could supervise. Much to his surprise, I said yes. I told him and the smalls NO SPLASHING and I'd be back in 3 minutes. In the snippets of time spent indoors and outdoors there was quality there. The topic of "Geek-dom" came up with Oscar while he was a grill master. I assured him he wasn't. I told him, he was like his dad in so many ways it was astounding, and he wasn't a geek. I checked on Abe and the tub'o'smalls and they were having a blast being silly and loud enough to wake the dead. The day was crazy, and beautiful, and unlike any one we've had in so very long...there was nothing routine about it.

At the 'meat-o-rama dinner' (as Oscar called it), we talked. We told stories. Oscar's story was about a mom that he saw at his school. "...and you know mom, she had a tattoo on her back right above her pant line? And so-in-so said, well that's inappropriate!" I thought the explanation of a tramp stamp wouldn't be necessary at this juncture...more of a Thanksgiving lesson to be learned. We laughed at each other and talked about what we liked most about the day. In my head, I knew some of them. Atticus enjoyed running in the back yard with no shoes or pants on. Nora liked planting flowers seeds in her flower pots. But, I was the most surprised by the Talls response. Abe liked giving the smalls a bath. Oscar liked talking to me outside...

If we never have another day like this, it would be okay. I was reminded that skirting the routine is not only good for you, but at times necessary. I was proven today, that letting go of control, can not only be rewarding for those who want it, but make life a hell of a lot easier. I lay my head down tonight, knowing that it isn't always about quantity, but the quality that can push you through to the next great day...

...you're gonna want this...

Time is an interesting thing. The older you get, the faster it flies by you. When you have kids, it seems like one minute you are wishing for certain stages to end. Before you know it, they've moved on four stages in the blink of an eye. My ongoing battle, both physically and mentally is knowing I never really spend enough time with my kids...no, I'm not on glue.

The time I spend with my kids, well, is constant. However, it is really rare to spend one on one time with any of them. For me, there are at times just not enough hours in my mental time clock. So, it's come to the point that I am starting to schedule it. When you start to feel like you're living with strangers who never pick up their underwear, you've missed out on something, or at least that's how I feel. The other night, I scheduled one such event, to take Abe and Oscar to confession. Abe was making his first confession, Oscar was unaware that he too would be going. They were a little nervous and I, well, I was really dreading it...

I have admittedly dropped the ball on a few things in my life...more than a few things. There is just no easy way to do all that 'needs' to be done with four kids by myself...I'm not sure I can even use that excuse anymore, but oh well. So, we were going to confession. Nora of course thought it was a party that she should also attend, but I lowered the boom on that. Abe was more nervous about what he should say. "So, what should I tell him?", he would ask Oscar or I. Oscar, being the closet theologian that he is, gave him a list of respectable 'sins' that would pass. Letting him know that he didn't want to go overboard his first time. I let Abe know that while Oscar's degree from the University of Phoenix was in the mail, it was really just up to his own heart to know.

We were there. The tension in our pew was palpable. I gave Abe a leaflet that was in the back of church about examining one's conscience, he gripped it tightly, glancing at it occasionally. At one point, I offered him an 'out'. At first, I wasn't sure if I was proud of that moment, but now I kind of am. I basically told him, in a hushed whisper, "...if you are not ready to do this, you don't have to. This is a commitment, and if you don't feel like you are ready to make it, there is always next year, no big deal..." Honestly, sometimes I wonder... Just because you are in the second grade and everyone else is buying the white dress or navy tie, does that mean you are ready? Does that mean you even understand that you are now an active member in what goes on every Sunday? Does any of this make sense to anyone?...that might be another blog.

So, it's time to go in...there are about a dozen people there, and I have a sitter at the house and I've promised ice cream afterward. I looked at him as if to scream GO ALREADY, and he just looked at me. I thought, be an example. I got up and I was the first one in confession. I came out, noticing my kids were in two different lines behind grey haired women. I thought, well they figured that one out I guess. I watched as they went in their separate rooms. Oscar came out nearly running with a smile on his face. He sat down next to me in the pew, as if forgetting where he was, and said "What's up!?" I whispered, are you forgetting anything? He was, he knelt.

The other door opened. Abe came out. He walked right up to the girl that was next to go to in and hands her his leaflet and says, "...you're gonna want this this..." I nearly died. Clearly he found his confidence in that room, and for that matter, figured out what to say. He also forgot where he was for a moment, bouncing into the pew as if he was flouncing down on the couch next to me. I repeated my earlier whisper, and he knelt for a moment.

Upon the van door shutting, they were chattering like a couple of ladies at a card party. Why they liked their priest? Was it dark in there? It was loud in my room. Did you face your priest? Mine had a soothing voice...But the best question was, "...so Mom, what did you tell the priest?" I asked them what kind of ice cream they wanted and changed the subject...

...the rookie mistake...

Snuggled under a blanket on the couch with Atticus. He turns to me  and says something, putting his head on my shoulder. I speak his language, but the kid is hard to decipher. To the untrained ear it sounds like, "...blah, blah, blah..." I turned to him and said, "...did you just say you're so pretty?" He looks at me and plain as day he says, "...No, I said I have a boogie. See?" Rookie mistake, right?

All day long the phrase has been in my head. So, to end the evening like I did wasn't happenstance. It got me thinking of the 'rookie mistakes'. They are at times hard lessons to learn, and at times they are possibly our greatest blessings in disguise. They can happen at any time, bouncing in to secretly shape and form who we are or who we will become. I think about the 'rookie mistake' I made sitting next to a guy at the first frat party I ever went to...it wasn't a mistake. It was my fortune yet to be unearthed. Four kids later, I'm grateful for that frat party, and the After Shock that was being consumed by some. That rookie move shaped who I was in an instant, and I am forever in his debt.

Being overly verbal, rookie mistake? Maybe, but I can carry on a conversation with all of my kids, even the one I only understand. They get a joke, and can deliver a punch line...If that's wrong, I don't want to be right. New found rookie mistake? Grounding two boys might actually be as much punishment for me as it is for them. I'm out numbered 24 hours a day, how would I have known? We are in the final stretch of said punishment, the light is glimmering at the end of the tunnel. While they have driven me NUTS, I feel like they have truly learned a lesson. So, we'll call it a draw.

Catering to my kids whims? Rookie mistake. I think I have hidden under the guise of 'choose your battles, or just avoid them completely'. I'm here to tell you, that's bull shit, and I now know it. I have created a diva of a monster, who has literally been quoted saying, "...I cannot eat peas (or anything green), they make me shiver..." Her mini-cohort also has an arsenal of tricks. The tiny terrorist won't eat, throws a fit, telling you he's leaving the table. But, if you completely ignore him, he bores himself into eating. Who's rookie mistake is that? (insert evil laugh here)

Then there comes the trinity of rookie mistakes that every parent makes. I'm no different, and they wouldn't matter at all if I wasn't doing this alone. So, these are named ÜBER ROOKIE MISTAKES. Mine are as follows: Not asking for help. Freaking out (on myself and my kids). Over planning, and being scared to meander off said plan. I've been told my house could possibly resemble a Nazi camp...not proud of that. Now, like I said, these aren't really that big of a deal...but, when you are the only drinking age adult in the house? They can add up QUICK. Here is where the "Mental Jenga" comes into play, and sometimes I just don't have it in me. Stock up on the Ginkgo Biloba and hope for the best?

Putting myself out there, after losing Jason, rookie mistake? Hardly. I have been reminded of some of my greatest friendships from 20 years. Most importantly how very lucky I am and  how very valuable they are. I have been so very blessed to have new friendships. Some people I've known, some I have met out of my new circumstances. Letting these people in who love me and all of my flaws, and at times can even toast them! I'm grateful to all of the above who have reminded me of not only who I can be, but what they see in me.

Lastly, the start of blog writing, rookie mistake? What started out as just a way to not seek therapy or get a 'club card' at a liquor store, has become a great release. I did however make a rookie mistake taking the first offer to get it published. It was a scary concept, thinking this may be my only chance. This was on my bucket list. And when it fell through, it was bitter sweet. However, it forced me to go back and read...and edit...and remember. Remember what I've learned. Realize how much we have all grown. And finally, know that even a rookie mistake can be the beginning of something adventurous...