Nine

Dear Danny,

We got your spring photos from school this week, and when I opened the frame to put it in, I was suddenly faced with your spring photo from last year. Seeing how much you have changed in just one year took my breath away.

This is my favorite school picture of you so far. You look happy and confident. I asked if they told you to tuck your shirt in, and you said, no, you did it!  I guess you saw other kids with theirs tucked in and decided to? I love your long hair that you don't want cut and the way we can see your painted nails with the pattern you picked out.

You have a big heart and a big mind and big emotions in a body that's still small enough to get put in the front row in your class pictures. You've gotten taller recently, but you've still got some shirts you've had for two years or more that fit you. When I showed my coworker your most recent school picture, she said you looked just like me.

You are a force to be reckoned with. It seems like no matter what you try, you're impressively good at it. You blow my mind constantly with the things you're able to do. It can be hard sometimes, because you want to do everything and when you can't do things right the first time you try, you get frustrated. You absorb knowledge like some kind of giant human sponge, everything from information about world flags, to the worlds tallest buildings, to anything and everything about space you can get your hands on. You love facts and numbers, and you spend your free time reading biographies about anyone from Steve Job to Thomas Jefferson to Martin Luther King Jr.

Our biggest challenge right now is that you have such big emotions, and you don't always know how to handle them. There's been a lot of screaming and some hitting and you tend to yell "Stop talking to me" or "You're making me madder!" a lot when you get frustrated. It's been hard because I don't always know how to give you the tools to help yourself. You get into it with Sam a lot recently, you know exactly how to push his buttons, and you do it.  It reminds me some of me and my sister, she always knew how to get a reaction from me.  You younger siblings.

You want to learn how to ride your bike without training wheels, but the fact that the only way to get there is with a lot of practice and falling down seems maddening to you. Scott took the pedals off your old, smaller bike so you can try practicing just balancing without pedals, so we're hoping that will help.  Once you get the hang of it, you'll be able to go riding with Scott, which would be an amazing activity to do together.

You have been playing the piano for two years now, and you are amazing. You enjoy playing even though sometimes you complain about practicing, and for the second year you did the music artistry program and auditioned for the Washington State Piano Guild.  You had to memorize ten pieces, sight read a piece, and make something up on the spot, all in a room by yourself with the judge. You got rave reviews. I'm so, so proud of you.

You still love playing with cars, and your favorite thing to do at Emily & Megans is play with blocks.

You have tons of Jenga and Keva Blocks and you build towers and structures. Sometimes you take pictures with your tablet and show me when you come back home.

You still love playing Roblox, and you love coding and making little games and things in Scratch. I feel like you want to do everything. This year you've gotten a lot more confident about your physical body and abilities, and you do things like cross the monkey bars and jump from high places. I think that soon you'll probably be in another sport besides swimming, you've told me you like soccer and basketball the most.

All kids seem to have a transition years where they suddenly seem so much older than the year before. Nine feels so much different than eight. You're still shy, but you've gotten so much more independent. Last week, you started walking up the hill from the school bus stop to our house by yourself.

I can't believe you're going to be in fourth grade later this year. You still ask for a lot of hugs and love to lay and cuddle with me in the mornings, but I'm finally starting to see and feel the edges of that slipping away. Somehow, we've actually reached a point where I can just feel in my heart that you're not going to be my baby forever. I'm ready, but I will never be ready.

Happy birthday, little dude.

Love,
Mom

Favorites!

Favorite Book:  Any biography from the "Who is/Who was" series, Anything about space
Favorite Song:  Something Wild from Pete's Dragon
Favorite Board Game:  Castle Panic, Rummikub
Favorite Video Game:  Roblox, Minecraft, Trials
Favorite TV Show: Fresh Off the Boat, Futurama, Bob's Burgers, The Simpsons
Favorite YouTubers:  Real Life Lore, Unspeakable
Favorite Food:  Pizza, Chips & Sauce
Favorite Dessert: Ice Cream
Favorite Thing to Do Outside the House: Spark Museum, Riding your bike, Happy Valley Elementary Playground
Favorite Subject at School: PE
Best Friends:  Rhett, Judson, Scott

Eight
Seven
Six.
Five.
Four.
Three.
Two.
One.
Birth Story.

Thirteen

 Dear Sam,

Suddenly, you're a teenager. I feel like a captain navigating a whole new ocean. I'm simultaneously terrified at the prospect of everything new that’s headed our way and excited at the opportunity to help shape your adulthood.


You're in 7th grade this year, and middle school has had its challenges, but remains so much better for you than elementary school ever was. Your grades have improved and you get excited about learning because you get to do things that are more interesting to you. This year your very favorite classes are art (of course) and STEM. We pulled you out of PE this year because it just wasn't a good fit for you - too many people, too loud, too much physical work.  Instead, you take private swimming lessons with your brother ever weekend, and we try to encourage you to walk - Pokemon Go has been a good motivator for that.

I think a lot about how my experience of teen-hood will color my parenting and how I relate to you as your hormones change, and you become a young adult. I would not say I enjoyed my teen years. When I got a little older and began attending Running Start, things definitely improved. But 7th grade through 9th grade were probably my most challenging years as a school-aged kid. That is definitely not the case for you.

I look at you and I see someone who cares a lot less about what people think of him than I did at your age. You know what you're interested in, and though you still struggles with writing assignments, in other areas you seems to have a confidence in your ability to do your work.

You go to bed yourself every night now, you watch Pokemon and lately you've been asking if you can stay up for 10 or 15 minutes extra to read. I always say yes, because I love that you love books and it seems like a good way to wind down for bed. Then you come give me a hug. I don't usually see you before work anymore, and you sleep in until 9 or later on the weekends sometimes. 

One of my favorite changes that's happened this year is that you will talk to me about school. If I ask you what you did at school today, instead of "nothing" or "I don't remember," you will literally give me a rundown of what you worked on in each class period. I love it. I like knowing what you're working on and the parts you're enjoying and the parts you don't enjoy.

Grandma Edie has started picking you up from the bus on Wednesdays so you don't have to go to Danny's piano lesson, and she likes to ask you if "Did anyone act like a fool at school today?"  We love hearing your stories.

My parenting style is equal parts empowerment and disregard for even trying to be tactful. Occasionally as we sit around in the evening before bedtime, I’ll blurt out “do you have hair in your armpits yet?” It makes you laugh, and catches you off guard, but that also means we have an authentic interaction with a positive spin.

I’ve been known to ask my kids out of the blue if you and your brother know what masturbation is or whether you remember what consent means. I want you to be comfortable coming to me about anything, whether it’s “embarrassing” or “silly” or something other people don’t want to talk about. I try at every turn to give you the tools to know that you can count on your family to be there for you no matter what.

In some ways, parenting a teenager is turning out quite differently than I expected. You and your brother haven't been very interested in play-dates in recent years, you play together a lot since we implemented screen time limits two years ago, or seek attention from one of us. You love to read, and the way you devour book after book reminds me so much of what I was like at your age.  That’s what you usually do on weekend mornings. When I was 13, my life was already centered around when I could be with my best friend, writing in my diary about boys, sleepovers, and trips to the mall.

As a parent, you hear all the time about how difficult it is to parent a teenager, but part of me wonders how it could be so much more difficult than all of the other stages I’ve already experienced. I think maybe it’s possible that it’s just difficult in different ways. Instead of worrying about meltdowns and tantrums, I worry that if things get tough, you won’t tell me about it. You've had a little bit of trouble with bullying in the past, and your attitude about children bothering you has largely been that if you talk about it, it will just drag on for longer. Frustration at outbursts and too-strong reactions morphs into fear that I will somehow miss something, that I won’t know when I need to dig deeper. The idea of you ever feeling alone or hopeless breaks my heart.

You seem to be changing all the time, yet still staying the same Sam I know. I don’t feel ready for your voice to change, and I don’t want you to lose the childlike part of yourself that keeps self-consciousness at bay.

You didn't want a birthday party with friends this year, but you knew exactly what you wanted on your birthday. We picked up a cookie-dough froyo cake from Menchies, then went to Round Table pizza.  Everyone was there - Grandma Edie & Grandpa Paul, me and Scott and Danny, Megan & Emily, and Grandpa Bill who happened to be in town. You got a ton of books and Pokemon toys, and ate pizza and ice cream to your heart's content.

I almost never feel like I “know what I’m doing” as a parent. Despite all of the unsure feelings and not knowing yet what I don’t know, I think I feel okay about heading into 13. If there’s one thing I’m sure of it’s that you are a good kid. I cannot imagine you ever being cruel, and when you gets in trouble at school or at home, it’s for very minor things that I’ve felt were easily teachable and reconcilable.

I think I'm probably going to screw up some in the next few years.  I am sure there will be times I'll do things then wish I'd done them differently. But I hope that I will be able to navigate these waters, if not with grace, at least with love and togetherness.

Love,
Mom

Favorites!

Favorite Book: You're really into dystopian YA right now. You read The Hunger Games and loved it, and got Delirium in your Easter Basket. You got a couple more box sets for your birthday and I'm sure you'll be through them in no time.
Favorite Color: Blue
Favorite Song: Bad Blood by Taylor Swift

Favorite Board Game:  Fluxx, Unstable Unicorns
Favorite Video Game:  Pokemon DS Games, Let's Go Eevee, Pokemon Go, Trials
Favorite TV Show:  Fresh Off the Boat, Pokemon
Favorite YouTubers: Failboat
Favorite Food:  Pizza, mac & cheese, beans & rice, hummus
Favorite Dessert: Cake
Favorite Thing to Do Outside the House:  Pokemon Go, Coding Club
Favorite Subject at School: Art
Best Friend: Andrew & Addison

Twelve
Eleven
Ten
Nine
Eight
Seven
Six
Five.Two
Five.One
Four 
Three 
Two
One
Birth Story

The Final Push

December is... not easy.  I forget that, and then suddenly find myself crying and feeling extra sad, and remember that this time of year is full of feelings.  In the last few years, I've found the waning days more difficult to deal with. Even though I know technically the daylights are beginning to lengthen, we are still in that darkest time of year when I leave home in the dark and return in the same once work is done.

Yesterday, after 5 days off work spent mostly in the company of Scott and the kids and no one else, I worked for 7 hours then spent the next 5.5 at a family Christmas dinner.  I'm not an introvert, at least not all the time.  When I take personality tests, I fall almost on top of the Intro/Extro line, getting results in one or the other realm depending on how I'm feeling that day.  Still, going from 0 to pretty much all my waking hours around people proved a little too much for me.

Each year is different, especially since my divorce.  It all ended in December, and the spoken words, and the holiday that followed are a blur of discomfort and sorrow and stuckness.  It isn't as if I am consciously sad thinking about the whole thing.  It's more like my soul has a muscle memory and it's a little bit achy with shadows of ghosts of feelings from the past.

This year, we had our first Christmas morning with just our little family of four.  No other parents, no grandparents, no aunts and uncles.  We sat in the living room in our pajamas, opened stockings, unwrapped presents, and then watched Snow Buddies while we shared a tray of cinnamon rolls, bacon, and scrambled eggs.  We played video games and ate too much candy.  It was lovely and relaxed.

Later in the day, I saw photos from the big Christmas dinner my Dad's side of the family gets together to share each year.  When I was a kid, this was our tradition many years, a car or plane ride to  Pennsylvania and cousins playing pool in my Grandmother's basement, present opening, and so much laughter and so much love.  The pink couch, the kids table in the kitchen, my Grandmother doing the Charleston in her house slippers after consuming just the right amount of egg nog.  I don't feel this nostalgia and longing every year, but this year it was acute, tightening around my heart so slowly that I don't really notice it until it's overwhelming me.  I feel a little disconnected and a little bit forgotten, the gifts I lovingly hand-made and managed to actually send on-time this year hopefully received with smiles, but mostly without a word.

It's not just my east coast family that I miss.  My sister is in the same state, but it might as well be a country.  She's busy and we both work and have kids, and we aren't great at emails or phone calls, and I just miss her so much.  This has grown in the last year or two, I think about her more than I used to.  I wish we could live down the street from each other and our kids could play together and it's just not in the cards.  The good news is that as time goes by, I am more and more in a place where I will finally have time off and maybe some extra money to be able to visit more.  But for now, I found myself last night, acutely aware of long-past traditions and the miles between us.

Today is the 27th.  In 4 days it will be a new month, a new year, and I will look forward to new adventures, to sunrise coming earlier and sunrise later, and to whatever comes next.  Planning a vacation next summer I'm looking forward to, and hopefully a visit to Colville for a long weekend as soon as I can manage it.  For now, though, in this final push, I think this weekend calls for rest and self-care, and maybe some phone calls to the people I'm missing.

Vice Grip

I can't tell whether it starts in my head or my heart or somewhere deeper and unnamed.  After hours of general unease, the dark quiet of my babes room at bedtime gives it the opening it needs to overtake me.  I can feel it welling up, bubbling silently until suddenly I'm under it and I know I can't fight it anymore.

I close the door behind me, careful and silent, then pad down the hallway. I go into my bedroom instead of back to the living room where the others are.  Into the dark cool of my room where I pick up the stuffed seal that fits perfectly in my arms, the one Scott bought me on our mini vacation in Seattle.  I am not even fully onto the bed before the first hot tear leaves its trail on my cheek.

I need hugs.  I text him knowing he will come and I doubt he will be surprised when he finds me shuddering with the weight of it all, but he may be just as confused as I am.  The tears overtake me fully and my soul writhes inside me, pushing against the vice grip of raw, unfiltered emotion.  I breathe hard, crying into Bowie's spotted fur, my fingers clenching and my body expanding and contracting with the power of it all.  My muscles hold their breath with each slow motion sob.

He puts his arms around me and asks me what is wrong and I helplessly answer that I don't know.  He understand and it doesn't matter, he holds me and reminds me that I am safe.  He shows me without words that the why is unimportant, that my feelings are okay. 

His arms tighten around me and I am not afraid but my brain thinks that maybe there is something either scary or frustrating in the not knowing.  Sometimes when this happens, it is obvious where its coming from, a burst pipe under the kitchen sink.  Other times like tonight its like water bubbling up through a storm drain.  I don't know where it came from, how long its been building, how deep the trigger point is.  A million reasons and they run through my head as I cry.

Is it that the go go go of the week is finally done and I can let go?

Is it the out of the blue text from a friend I haven't talked to in years?

Is it that dream I had last night about those people who I had to see last Friday after months of getting over it?

Is it Danny's on-edge behavior, the tears that well up so easily in his eyes, that tell me he is going through one of those crazy mental/emotional growth milestones kids go through?

Is it frustration and sadness about my cat who I love more than I admit and who won't stop peeing outside the box?

Is it that Scott is working tonight and tomorrow after all and we aren't really any closer to his sleep patterns being normalized yet?

Is it the chores I know need to get done this weekend?

Is it hormonal, some wild burst of estrogen giving me a perimenopausal run for my money?

Is it the frustrating email exchange I had today with someone who assigned tones I didn't intend and wouldn't just accept a graceful ending to mismatched desires?

Is it all of these or none?  Is it some other deep rending inside me that I can't name?  Does it matter?

I am a crier, always have been and always will be.  Whatever started it I also know these tears need to come, and 37 years in there is some comfort in surrendering and embracing their purpose.

I think there is a part of me inside, in some closet with the door just cracked, where I am still surprised that I have a partner who supports me so fully, who empowers me to feel.  He reminds me to always feel, unashamedly, without reservation, his eyes whisper to me that moments are what make up our life together and in the most raw, vulnerable moments his love gently nugdes me back to solid ground.

Later I am putting Sam to bed and he asks me what was happening when I was in my room.  I tell him I felt sad and needed cuddles, and he asks why.  I say I don't know, sometimes I just feel sad and it helps me feel better if I cry.  He tells me that sometimes he feels sad too, like in the book he just read when a girl was messing up her friendships.  She almost broke one of them, he says, but she fixed it.  I hope he always remembers that it is okay to feel sad sometimes and to share your feelings with people who can help you find your way out from under that cloud.

I feel better once the flood has subsided, like a boiler that has let off steam I am back to a mostly inert state.  I go to bed early, knowing I will wake up with puffy eyes, feeling tired, but most of all feeling thankful that I am so surrounded by love and that I am so able to just be who I am.

Five

One

4.5.16

Both of my parents remarried the year I turned 10, and our family spread across the land with Dad and Helene in Fargo, and Mom and Rob at our new full-time home in Bellingham.  She was the first person I met, the first friend we had.  Four or five houses down, we spent hours after school and in summers running around, visiting the neighbor who would always give us candy, creating adventures in her mom's quilting studio, and throwing an enormous orange buoy for her dog in the front yard.  Time went by, and I watched her grow up beside my little sister, watched her turn into a beautiful, interesting woman.  I was in a hotel when my sister called to tell me that one of her best friends had breast cancer.  It was bad.  I cried as I googled and lost my breath and the 5 year survival rate - only 20%.  Nothing prepares you.  Nothing CAN prepare you for the heartache and helplessness of losing such a beautiful, interesting friend.  For caring, but not being a part of their inner circle or support system.  For hoping that somehow, whatever prayers make it past the sobs somehow send some positive energy into the universe.  She threw tea parties for her friends, with Alice in Wonderland themes.  She baked the most beautiful things, cookies that looked straight out of Martha's oven.  She raised money for Planned Parenthood and she was mother to a beautiful son the same age as Sam.  I didn't get to say goodbye, but I hope that she knew how much I loved her, and how I admired that even in her last years when she knew the end was coming, she kept creating and putting something positive into the world.

Two

4.24.16

My grandmother was gone, and then she was really gone.  Last time I saw her was in 2005 when I visited.  She loved the kids, but she didn't really know who any of us were.  It was still nice to see her smile.  When my parents were young, and I was a baby, we lived in her house for a while.  I don't remember, but my Mom does.  She has talked to me about how supportive my Grandmother was.  When I was a kid, we visited her at her house in Havertown and at the one in Ocean City.  In the summer, she would boil hot dogs then put them into a bun and wrap it in foil for a beach day lunch.  The buns would get soggy but after spending hours in the salty surf, they were so good.  She was smart and sold houses for a living.  She was funny too, and we laughed together often.  I don't know what to believe, but I hope that she is reunited with her husband, and with the granddaughters she grieved so much, in her great beyond.  I didn't get to say goodbye, but I hope that she knew how much I loved her, and how much we all missed her, and will miss her.

Three

5.12.16

I am not exaggerating when I say that she touched, and probably changed, thousands of lives.  She was the kind of teacher who kids remember long into adulthood, which is evidenced by the number of us at her funeral.  She taught us responsibility and integrity, and she didn't let us off the hook.  She had a laugh that would light up a room, and she was a role model for so many of us.  She was passionate, strong, powerful, and didn't take any crap from anybody.  I last saw her a few years ago at her retirement celebration, which was like a mini high school reunion for Eagle Eye staffers and yearbook kids.  She was happy.  She kept up with students on Facebook and it was beautiful to see the messages we all left when she was gone.  I didn't get to say goodbye, but I know that she knew how much we loved her, and that she made the world so much a better place by being in it.

Four

7.5.16

Going through your parents divorcing can be some pretty rough stuff.  It changes you, and affects you in so many ways, weaving tentacles throughout the rest of our lives.  Some are hard, and may require therapy, but others... others are exactly the opposite.  Blessings in the form of adventures and especially in the family that you might acquire.  Through my parents divorce and subsequent remarriages, I have become wealthy in family friends and exceptional relatives I am glad to have in my life.  She was one of them.  We always called her Aunt, even though she was technically a Great Aunt to me.  She never married, and spent her younger years as a nurse in the Army and had a pretty accomplished career.  I wish I had known her better, I wish I had talked to her about her time as the chief obstetrics nurse and heard stories from her career.  I wish I'd gotten to know her more as an adult.  It's hard being so far from family sometimes.  She was a strong, smart woman, who made a life for herself.  I always liked her, even when I was very young - there was just something about her. The last time I saw her was the same visit during which I saw my grandmother - we swam in the pool and tried to pet her elusive cats.  I didn't get to say goodbye, but I hope that somehow she knows that I thought of her often, and that I loved her.

Five

8.14.16

His smile fills my memories of Christmases and visits to Ocean City.  His laugh, the way he brought joy into a room, the way he cared for his nieces and nephews and children, big and fierce.  He was always one of my favorites, and I think it was partially because of the way I felt at ease around him.  Things changed and he wasn't around as much.  I missed him.  I tried to send cards but I failed as often as I succeeded with tracking down new addresses and getting them out.  I don't remember the last time I saw him, and that makes me really sad.  He was not old enough to go.  One of the hardest things about living so far from family is not being able to attend memorials and hear all of the wonderful things people say, and to be able to pray and help put my loved ones to rest.  I think the world will miss him, because the hole he's left is big.  I didn't get to say goodbye, but I hope he knew that he never stopped being family to me, that I loved him, and that I'm really sad that he's gone.

Five is too many.

New Jersey 2016

My favorite from the Graduation

We were lucky enough to be be able to travel to New Jersey last month to celebrate my little sister Lianna's high school graduation.  The boys hadn't been to New Jersey in 5 years - almost exactly - and Sam remembered a little, but of course Danny didn't remember anything.  It was the first trip we have taken where they got to fly on an airplane and visit family across the country that they will actually be able to remember, so it was kind of special that way.

Me and my sisters

We flew into Baltimore on a combination of redeyes, leaving Seattle at 12:45 am and getting to Baltimore nearly 12 hours later.  It was pretty crazy, but both kids did really well.  It definitely helped that Delta has some fancy planes with TVs in the seatbacks and they were able to watch TV while they weren't sleeping.

We crashed at the hotel for a little while and then headed out to dinner with my Dad who lives in Greenbelt.  We went into Baltimore and had pizza at Pub Dog, which was delicious.  The next day, we made the 3+ hour drive up to Flemington, NJ where we'd spend the rest of our trip.

Lianna & Helene

The house my stepmom and sister live in is like a 2nd home to me.  They have been there for 15ish years, and I've spent a lot of time there over the years.  Because over the years it's been a place that me, and now my children, have gone to in order to relax and vacation, I generally find being there to be really relaxing and comfortable.  It was even better having my sister and her family there from Washington as well and getting to spend time with my nieces in a day to day situation, which I don't get to do all that often.

At the graduation party

Lianna graduated from Hunterdon Central Regional High School with a class of over 700 students!  My graduating class had a bit over 300, so it was a huge ceremony to me.  I got a pretty good sunburn just from sitting in the stands and walking around for the 2.5 hours we were there, even though we were home before noon!  I took a lot of photos of the ceremony, but the one above is my favorite, Lianna walking back to her seat after getting her diploma.

Lianna with all her nieces & nephews

I'm so proud of her.  It's hard having a sister who lives so far away, because I wish that we were closer and that I could be there for her more than I have been.  I think about her a lot, but we don't talk that often.  I'm hoping that sometime soon she'll be able to make her first solo trip out to Washington to visit me and our other sister.

Kira and her family were all in New Jersey for the graduation too, and it was so wonderful to be with so much of my family all at once.  It's been a really long time since we were all together.

The Doley side of the family (my Dad's side)

On Saturday, the day after the ceremony, my stepmom Helene threw a great Graduation party for Lianna at the Women's Club building down the street from where the lived.  I had several cousins and aunts and uncles that I hadn't seen in years there, and got to see my cousin Emmy (who is coming to visit WA in a little over a week and I'm sooooo excited!), which is always one of my favorite parts of a trip back East.

Father's Day with my Dad and sisters

On Sunday, Kira, Lianna, and I were all with our Dad for Father's Day, which hasn't happened in many years (if ever!).  It was pretty cool to all be together and take my Dad out to breakfast and shopping before he headed back home to Baltimore.

One of my favorite parts of visiting NJ is the neighborhood, specifically the people who share a driveway with and live next door to our house there.  There's a family who live next door who have 2 boys the same ages as mine, and a little girl the same age as my sister's older daughter.  I remember last time we visited, when Sam was 5, there was one day that he spent 12 full hours playing with the boy next door, and even though it's been 5 years it's like they picked up right where they left off.

Backyard pool!

I wish that I could just pick up that little block of Flemington and plop it right down near me in Washington.  I love where we live, but playdates take planning, and there's no neighborhood kids to just run back and forth to and play in the back yard all summer long.  They had such a great time, and it was nice to hear from their parents that my kids played so well and that they all got along so wonderfully!  I really hope that it won't be another 5 years before we get back there.

Danny and his cousin Nora

Another thing I really loved about this trip was watching the way that Sam and Danny interact with kids who are younger than they are.  They're both really good at it, and Danny played really well with Ashley, who is several years younger than he is.  My kids are far from perfect, but I always hope that I am raising them to be polite to others and kind.  It was really fun to watch Danny and Sam interact with their cousins and think about how much I enjoyed seeing my cousins during summers and spring breaks when I was a kid.  I hope that Danny, Sam, Nora, and Lila will be able to form cousin friendships that will last as they get bigger and older.

The boys at Hershey's Chocolate World!

Kira and her family flew home a couple of days before we did.  When Sam heard we were going near Pennsylvania, he almost immediately asked if we could go to Hershey.  Since we didn't have tons of plans while we were there, I figured that would be a fun outing for us to do on one of our free days.  So, on Tuesday we got in the car with Grandma Helene and headed for chocolate town!

In Hershey, there are a few different things - there is an ampitheater where 18 or so years ago I saw Lillith Fair with Kira and Helene.  There's Hershey Park, a water and amusement park, and there's Chocolate World, which is just a fun attraction where they have different little activities, and OF COURSE an absolutely ENORMOUS gift shop full of all the things.

Making their chocolate bars!

We did the 4D mystery movie where you had to help solve who was running around in the chocolate factory at night, then headed over to the ride they have where you walk through and learn about chocolate and the history of Hershey Chocolate.  It takes you through the process of making the chocolate in the factory, though it's all recreations and not the actual factory you're looking at.

I'd been to Hershey once before when I was younger and probably wasn't paying attention, but it was so interesting!  I had no idea that before Hershey chocolate started being made in Pennsylvania, chocolate wasn't at all readily available in the US and was something only people with money and means had.  I also didn't know that Mr. Hershey was a huge philanthropist who at one point basically gave his factory to a local school for underprivileged kids that he started.  Next time we go, I'd love to go to the actual museum in town and read more about the history of the town and Milton Hershey.

Mmmm.... chocolate!

Then we did what was definitely all of our favorites - the make your own chocolate bar attraction!  You use a computer to choose your base and add-ins (mine was dark chocolate with pretzel nubs and toffee bits) and then you get to watch your bar go down the line, get add-ons, get enrobed, and design your own wrapper.  It was pretty cool, and then you end up with a delicious, really good sized bar of chocolate to eat later and a cool tin you can keep!

We had a great time, and the kids loved it.  We did a little shopping in the gift shop before heading back to Flemington.

It was such a good trip.  Spending time with my family, watching Game of Thrones with Helene and texting silly pictures back and forth with Lianna, sitting in the backyard with my cousin and my aunt as the sun goes down and the fire burns.  Taking pictures at the graduation, and getting some good shots for my sister to remember the day by.  Cheesesteaks and NY Style Pizza and TastyKakes.  Watching the kids play for hours in the backyard, spraying each other with the hose, watching my one year old niece eat smear cake all over her face.  I can't wait for next time.

On our way home!

I am THAT mother

Today I am THAT mother.

I am that mother who cries in the staircase worried that I am just completely failing my child and making a mess of things. He cries and it grates on my nerves. He cries and flips because there is a paper bag on his seat and somehow he can't figure out to put it in the front or on the floor and it is SO frustrating. You are smart, I say, please use your brain and figure it out. And I get to listen to him talk about how his life is hard and awful and he cries and I am so annoyed and then suddenly he is talking about how his grandpa died last month and he is sad and he loved him. And how can I not feel like a total asshole in that moment? At the same time, how can I reconcile that he has the same emotional reaction to things on such different levels?

Today I am that mother who goes online and reads. Checklist after checklist and I knew this day would probably come with Sam, but knowing how to parent a child with ADD and help them be successful is something new. I don't know how to do it, or where to begin. He tells us that he is not getting a good enough education and that learning is hard and I know it is time. He has always been different, but the day has come where it is really affecting him and it is time for more labels, more accommodations.

Today I am that mother who struggles with the concept of raising a special needs child.  In some ways, he seems so normal, but in other ways it is so difficult.  I struggle with the idea of placing labels and demanding more, of where to push and where to know his limits.  I struggle with the accepting that just because he does not have ASD or Down's Syndrome or FAS doesn't mean that he doesn't have SOMETHING and that it is okay to realize that it's a challenge.  And that those challenges don't mean that he can't do things, they just mean that he might need to do things a little bit differently.

Today I am that mother who feels not good enough.  I sit and think and I feel like I am complaining too much, that I should be able to handle all of this, and that I'm not doing a good enough job.  I cry and I text my boyfriend, why can't I just fix this, why don't I know how to help him?

Today I am that mother who yells. Because I just can't handle being yelled at, whined at, talked down to one more fucking time. It takes something out of me that I know a kid can't understand so I push back and whine whine whine. Then I yell and finally he complies and does something for himself for once and I don't want to yell but if that is how he hears me sometimes I don't know how else to make him get it.

Today I am that mother who feels embarrassed. That I have a son who is 9 and in pull ups and yes he has encopresis but that isn't all, because I think that isn't the worst of it, the APATHY is. How do you make a person care? You can't. I know he needs help, but how do I know who can help him? I found a therapist I liked, but it took talking to several who were no help first and I so don't want that for Sam.

Today I am that mother who feels the mom guilt in full force. Because maybe if I didn't have to work so much it would be better. Because today I sat in my car for 20 minutes before picking my kids up from after school care. Because sometimes when I am wiping my tears on my sleeve as I cook the same dang mac and cheese I can't wait for bedtime. Because I will always love my kids but I have moments where I just wonder if it will ever be easier, if one day I won't have to wipe anyone else's butt and just for a moment I don't like being a mom.

Today I am that mother who feels helpless because for the second day in a row there was a note at after school care, one about being upset and one about refusing to do what he was supposed to. And I know that what shows on his surface is just the top layer and that his feelings are complex and probably sometimes confusing.  They just want to help him, they want to support him, and they turn to me and I don't know what to tell them.

Today I am that mother who feels the mama bear inside, who has notes and quotes and links and plans. I am that mother that will once again walk in to the school with requests and actions in hand and advocate for my child's education.

Today I am that mother who wonders how she got here, who never planned to be a single mother. This journey has been hard, harder than anything I could have imagined.  And I feel guilty for that part of my brain that rages and says THIS IS NOT WHAT I WANTED, because I am not saying that I don't love my kids, or want to mother them, but I was never supposed to be doing this alone.

Today I am that mother who falls asleep putting the kids to bed, who drifts off to sleep remembering that tomorrow is another day, and probably a better one.  Who lays next to her almost-adult-sized child, with her arm around his waist, feeling his warmth and listening to the soft shush of his sleepy breathing.  The house is quiet, and the day is done.  And I know that today is just that, today.  It is not tomorrow, it is not every day. We will sleep, we will dream, and we will wake, and begin again.

Santa is Real

I originally wrote this four years ago, and every year I re-read it and it still rings true.  My kids, at 4 and 8, still believe in Santa Claus for now.  Each year as Sam gets older, he will be more likely to ask me if Santa is real, or tell me that he knows the truth.  And still, no matter how old he gets, I will tell him that Santa IS real.  This is why. 

18 December 2010

Santa is Real. I wouldn't have it any other way.

Today I was out for several hours with Danny, and when I got home my relaxation was interrupted by him barfing a whole bunch. Because we decided to see what would happen if we tried regular (aka NOT $25 a can) formula and, well, it didn't really work out.

So, at 4:45 I found myself in the car again for a quick trip to Wal-Mart for the bank breaking formula. My baby eats $125 a month JUST IN FORMULA. Plus baby food. It's awesome. Anyhow, as I was checking out with my Wal Mart brand soda and Great Value "zip-lock" bags, the people in front of me had a huge cart full of toys. Overflowing, actually.

The checker asked them how many kids they had. One, they answered. Just one?! was her response. Then they said that that wasn't even all the toys! There were more in their other car! And at home! And she's going to be so excited!

As I watched my total build up with the cat food, the formula, the generic bags, the $1 cheap toy I'd bought as a stocking stuffer, I remarked to the cashier that my kid's not that lucky, I think I spent the amount they'd spent on their one cart on ALL of our holiday gifts for the year.

She said something about the kid not being able to appreciate things (because of being spoiled). And I thought, what if I DID have the money? Would I fill up 2 shopping carts each with gifts for my boys?

I don't think I would.

In fact, I know I wouldn't. I would spend more money on my best friend, my sister, and especially my Mom. I would buy Sam something more, but not by quantity. I'd get him the Lego Airport he wants, instead of cobbling gifts together from various sales over the last few months and from trips to Value Village and Big Lots.

I have spent the last three months scouring sale and clearance racks for gifts that are both awesome AND affordable. I feel good about the fact that I stayed under the budgeted amounts I arbitrarily made up.

In the end, it's not about the money. It's about spending time with my family. It's about watching Sam open his stocking in our living room for the first time. It's about making gingerbread houses with Grandma, and driving around looking at Christmas lights, and the wonder on his face. It's about his letter to Santa, written at school, away from the influence of TV commercials or catalogs. He asked for a 'fox that shoots an elf' (think potato gun except instead of a gun it's a fox and instead of a potato it's an elf) and a plate that is only for pizza. I don't really know what to do with that, but imagining him walking with his class, holding hands with his best buddy on the way to the post office to mail the letters? That made my day.

When he's a little older, we'll teach him what Christmas means. We'll explain who the baby is that laid in the manger. And one day, when he is old enough to ask me if Santa is real, I will tell him - absolutely yes, Santa is real.

Santa is the spirit of the Holidays. He is in all of us. He is in the thought put into that perfect gift. He is in the food delivered to the food bank. He is in the posts of bloggers who have collected gift cards for people who could not afford their own Christmas. He is in the overflowing coat drive and Toys for Tots bins. He is in the giving tree, in every person who chooses a child they don't know, and makes Christmas happen for them. He is in the hugs from family we don't see that often, in the sleepovers with Grandma, and the sleigh rides with the Aunt you adore.

Santa is real. He is knowing that this is going to be a fabulous holiday, even if I couldn't afford a cart of gifts or a $100 Lego set. He's in me.

Money or no money, I wouldn't have it any other way.

Moving on Up

Tomorrow will be busy, so it won't be such a hard day.  But in the evening, after the kids are tucked in to bed in their brand new bedroom, which is big enough to run in, and after the house is quiet and I am surrounded by piles and boxes and the disarray that will become our own cozy life, I can't be entirely sure I won't be overcome.

This has been a difficult week for so many people.  On top of the emotions I feel on a daily basis about my life situation, there has been a death that brought up a lot of feelings for thousands upon thousands of people ("Second star to the right, and straight on 'til morning.") and a death that broke our hearts and ignited a lot of much needed speculation and discussion ("All of this repression, because the police killed a kid and the community wants answers." - @jbouie).  Personally, I have broken down and again asked for help, because I haven't been doing this alone, but things have become more complex and I don't know what else to do.

I could sit here and put down thousands upon thousands of words about this journey we are in the midst of.  I could pound these keys until my fingers were numb, and it still would not be quite enough to convey what we have been through, what we are going through, and what we will go through.  I could open my heart and spill it as tears spilled down my cheeks, because they are inevitable, and sometimes I try to do that, but in the end there is always more to be said.

For the past eight months, my haven has been my Mom and Paul's house.  Appropriately, the Hope household.  They took me in like a wounded bird back to the nest, and allowed me to settle in.  They welcomed me and my boys with open arms, without question or complaint about losing their space, the toys spread across the house that sometimes I am too tired to pick up every night, the loads and loads of laundry, the dirty dishes and play dough messes, the moments they took care of my boys while I cried in the bathroom, the noisiness of little boys.  Not only have they been incredibly gracious about us being there, they have also helped beyond anything I could possibly thank them for.  When I say there are no words for the gratitude I have, I am not being hyperbolic.

Without them, I would be nowhere.  Though not the sole reason I have been able to get back on my feet, find myself, and start building a good, stable life for me and my boys, they are certainly the biggest part of it.  Where would I have been, a single, jobless mother of two children, with an ex who chooses himself over supporting his children?  I cannot even imagine.  One of my greatest aspirations and hopes in life is that I will one day be able to pay forward all of the help, love, and support that my family and friends have given to me these last few months and years.  If I can help someone even a fraction of the way that my loved ones have helped me, I will have made the world a better place.  

This morning, my mom said "Today is your last day living with me.  I have mixed feelings."  So mixed.  To be truthful about it, I am simultaneously excited beyond belief and slightly terrified.  I have never lived alone.  I moved out of my parents house when I was 18, almost 19, with a roommate.  Shortly thereafter, Justin moved in and that was that.  At 33, this will be my first time with my own space, my first time with a home of my own.

I will miss my Mom and Paul.  I will miss chatting on weekend mornings.  I will miss hearing them yelling at Russell Wilson from the basement.  I will miss sitting with my mom chatting late into the night, laughing together.  I will miss finding my mom on the couch watching the trailer for Outlander for the 369th time.  I will miss Paul telling us that there is going to be a weather event tomorrow.  Yes, we will be less than 5 minutes away, but I will miss my family none the less.

I have been a single mother for a long time, to be truthful.  But even in the bad times, I have had someone living with me who has helped in some way, even if that amount of help was minimal.  Now we will be on our own.  It will be wonderful for Sam and Danny.  As school starts, our hearts will knit, and we will establish a routine, and they will grow stronger as the days go by.  Their lives will be stable, something they will be more able to understand, and our family will thrive and flourish.  I will continue to find myself and grow and change.  We all will.

Heartbreak

There is no cure for this heartsick feeling. There is no prevention for the tears that always fall when I have to say goodbye. It never hits me right away. I can get through hugs, and goodbyes at the curb. I can put my focus on checking in and boarding passes, on security lines and finding my gate. But eventually, there I am. Left with myself and a black airport chair, and tears in my eyes.

I expect it. Oh, I'll probably cry at the airport, I told my friend last night. It's always hard. With the added stress of the life I'm living right now, it doesn't take a lot to make me emotional anyway, so it's pretty much a guarantee today.

This time it hits me first in line for the bathroom. I feel it behind my eyes and nose, hot and liquid, and my eyes are filling. I miss them. Acutely. It has been over two years since I saw my stepmom and seeing my sister three times in four years just isn't enough. She's amazing. 15 years old, and gorgeous, but more grounded than I thought was possible a few years ago. She is beautiful, and funny, and I love her so much that I can't stand it. When I see her sometimes it's almost as if no time has passed. Except she's choosing classes like Advanced HTML and College and Career Options, and going to sweet sixteen parties, and she has a boyfriend now. Stuffed animals replaced with One Direction posters, a vanity with makeup that she knows how to use better than I do.

There's a whole country between us. Thousands of miles, and plane tickets that almost always cost much more than any of us have. These are the days of extended family spread so far apart that our hearts are scattered. When I get to see them but then I have to go home, and I feel my heart breaking all over again, and there is absolutely nothing I can do about it.

And it's not just the people. It's not just my sister, my stepmom, my Dad, and my cousin. It's also this place. I love it here. This house in this small town that I thought was much too small when I first saw it. Now it is comfortable, it is my home, there is nothing foreign about it, even when it's been over three years since I last stepped inside. And the city, Philadelphia, I don't know what it is but there's a piece of my heart that just belongs here.

So bittersweet. This week was amazing, and something I really needed. A chance to get away, to do grown up things, to fill my heart with love and family. It will be good to see my boys, to get hugs and kisses and fill their hearts with Mommy love again. I just wish it didn't have to be one or the other.