Where Did a Whole Month Go?

Oops. Really? A whole month (just over, actually, but who's counting?) has passed since my last post. This troubles me a bit. Only because writing is one of my favorite things to do now and I obviously do not get enough time to do it. I haven't been slacking off or anything. I'm sure that is what you are all thinking...unless, of course, you know me and that I have five kids and how finding that "me time" can be very tricky. Very tricky, indeed.

A couple posts ago I had a...what should I call it...a "mini meltdown", perhaps? I have since deleted that post for reasons that are my own, although I saved a copy and will re-post it again someday when the time is right. I am not ashamed of my feelings or my words. I own them. I am human. I do, however, need to protect myself sometimes...for now.

The reason I bring up the "meltdown" is because I have put a lot of changes into motion since that day. I realized, after putting my broken self in black and white for the world to see, that I needed to deal with some things in my life. I needed to make changes, make decisions, have conversations and figure out what exactly I want from this new strange life. Fifteen months ago I was a full time working mother of three. Overnight I became a stay at home mother of five. Before the twins I was focused, organized, busy and determined...in a good way. Since the twins were born I have been scatter-brained, indecisive and a little lost. I have also been extremely happy, though. I love being a mom so very much. I've said it before and I will say it again: motherhood is my favorite. Picture me saying it like Will Ferrell's character in Elf when he says, "I just like to smile. Smiling's my favorite."

"I just like to be a mom. Being a mom's my favorite." But at the same time, I felt the real me slowly slipping away. I have had moments where I felt like I might drown. I was giving up so much and taking on way too much, all at the same time. I had to prioritize. That is where I have been for the last month or so. I feel much better. I have refreshed optimism (with a healthy side dish of realistic goals and expectations.)

Image from: http://www.srednja.hr/Novosti/Svijet/Otkriveno-koji-tip-ljudi-ima-najvise-sanse-za-uspjeh-i-srecu

What specifically have I changed? The most important thing I have done since the "meltdown" is to have a heart-to-heart talk with my beloved husband. I will begin by saying that I try very hard to leave my marital issues out of this blog out of deep respect for his privacy. I am the one who chose to put my life in print, not him. I must also clarify that when I say "marital issues", we have very few negative issues. He is an amazing man and my perfect match in every way possible. I love him unconditionally and trust him explicitly and I know, without a doubt, that he feels the same way about me. How could we possibly go wrong with a marriage like that, right?

One thing. Since the twins were born, bless their little hearts, we have probably experienced the hardest thing that we have ever had to deal with as a couple. Five kids is no cake walk. And after a little while, instead of leaning on each other as we should have, we sort of both retreated to our own corners, in our own ways, to lick our wounds like beat down dogs and suffer alone in silence. So silly. We should know better. So, we spoke our minds, we shed our tears and we made some changes that have already begun to work their magic. All is well and we are the stronger for it, both as a couple and as a family. Yeah us!

Where are my priorities? I am only taking on one volunteer project for the school this year. I am the Scholastic Book Fair Chair for my son's middle school. This is something that we can do together; bonding with each other while doing something important at the same time. Win-win.

Instead of quiting The Mommies Network, I took a leave of absence from my volunteer posts. After speaking with the founder of the organization, this seemed like the right choice. After the holidays are over, I will continue as chapter manager for MinneapolisMommies but I have chosen to step down as their Blended Families Forum Moderator. This will allow me to focus on the part that is most important to me, which is building a local community of mothers who can get together, support each other and go out and have a good time every once in a while. If I need these things, there have to be a whole lot of other moms that do to.

I am making an effort to play my guitar more. I am even trying to write a song or two and have started to get callouses on the tips of my left fingers again, which I haven't had since high school. I am putting no pressure on myself and it feels good. Whatever happens, happens. I am not working out, trying to get the perfect body back. I probably won't get to fulfill a long time dream to be in a musical this summer. I am not going to be in a pageant and represent my town. There are so many things that I want(ed) to do, but I am learning to accept the fact that not all of these wishes will turn out to be. I am forcing myself to be much more choosy in my efforts. This will help me not feel let down or broken hearted. I don't want to be the girl that is all talk with no follow through. I am now trying to allow myself to really focus on the most important things. This will take some discipline.

I just celebrated my birthday. I am now 36. I am 100% okay with this. I embrace my aging. Although, a thought did cross my mind this week. I had a moment where I was sad because I realized how old I was and that I had nothing to show for it. No career, no degree. I had not accomplished a single dream that I had for myself from when I was a kid. I am not even remotely close to where I thought I would be. This moment of sadness was brief. Partly because many of those dreams were far fetched and a tiny bit unrealistic for regular people. But mostly, the sadness was brief because I thought to myself, "Ginny, don't be an idiot. Look at your life." I have a lot to show. I have an adoring husband and five of the best kids a mom could ask for. I have a house and two cars, health insurance, savings and investments. I have a huge family full of love and support for each other. I am healthy and alive. I get to be a stay at home mom! I have food in the refrigerator and clothes on my back. Not everyone can say all of these things. I am not saying it to brag or to pat myself on the back. I am saying it for perspective. I am saying it to remind myself that I have no reason to feel bad about what I have or have not done with my life.

I am going to digress for a moment...but when the hell did we become grown-ups? Seriously. Over the last year there has been so much change and loss and pain and happiness. I have lost old friends and acquaintances to cancer, suicide and death by natural or unexplained causes. People in my world have experienced abuse and divorce, marriages, births and miscarriages, custody battles and lawyer bills. New homes have been purchased and old homes have been lost or sold. There have been home improvements, both planned and not so planned. (Don't even get me started on my damn boiler heat issue) Jobs have come and gone. Life is in constant motion all around us and it can knock us on our asses at times by the pure heaviness of it all. I was out with an old girlfriend a few weeks ago and we were in total disbelief about all of the real "grown-up shit" that has unfolded itself before us, and people we know, from all possible angles. One day you are twenty years old and then you blink and suddenly you are an adult and real life just sort of happened all around you. Again, perspective. I really need to complain a lot less.

So, what do I want? I want to continue being a stay at home mom. I want to be more patient. I want to be a better wife and mother. I want to write more. I want to volunteer. And I have decided to go back to school and finish my two year Associates degree that I started back in 2001. I will officially be a full time student, entirely online, in January. This is my list to focus on. These are the things I have decided are most important to me. These are the things that made the cut. This is how I move from sink to swim. Wish me luck.

9 Months: A Perfect Storm

Or rather, perfectly stormy. My twin boys are officially 9 months old. I was pregnant with them for almost the whole 9 month gestation. To be exact, 36 1/2 weeks, or better yet, just over 8 1/2 cycles of the big and beautiful moon. An infinite number of things can happen in such an insignificant length of time on this earth. Lives can be completely rearranged, tossed and scattered just like a million sea shells upon the sand. New life can grow and swell in unison inside another living being. Relationships can wane or flourish; they may even experience a combination of the two. Sleep and to do lists can be swept to the side in a tide of new responsibilities and flowing tears of joy and sadness, creeping ever deeper, can consume an unsuspecting soul into their depths. Or, one can learn to swim, even if it is only treading water at times. All that matters is that you can keep your head above water, at least until your tippy toes can touch the bottom or your mind, body and soul become stronger.

The last 9 months have not been a perfect walk along the beach. My husband and I feel like we have accomplished something great together, regardless. We made it through a very difficult time and came out stronger, closer and even more sure of the strength we have as a unit. We made it through. We held each others hands and didn't allow the storm to take us down.

How can I measure the last 9 months? Approximately 255 days, 6,120 hours, 367,200 minutes,  22,032,000 seconds, give or take. I have probably prepared and fed the babies 3,500 bottles, well over 200 cans of formula. I have changed around 5,600 diapers and pull ups and used up 16,500 wipes. I have fixed nearly 300 bumps, bruises and scrapes. I have possibly slept, on average, 5 hours a night, at best. This equals around 1,275 hours, if I am bring generous. I have attended maybe 30 doctor, dentist, physical therapy and optical appointments. I have cleaned the whole house...once? But, have done 250 loads of laundry, 300 piles of dishes and an unlimited number of other household tasks. I have paid over 100 monthly bills. I slept on the couch for at least 3 or 4 months because our house is too small, the babies do not have their own room and my dear hubby has to get up and go to work early in the mornings. I have cried a dozen times...or so. I have raised my voice more times than I care to admit.

On a lighter note...I have given a bazillion kisses and a lifetimes worth of hugs. I have laughed 4,000 times, at least, and smiled thousands more. I have played with my children everyday. I have shown them some new things. I have read hundreds of books and danced around the living room singing along with the songs loudly and proudly, often. I've told many silly jokes and stupid puns. I have tickled and pillow fought with gusto, on occasion. I've saved them from at least 50 spiders. I've given countless bubble baths for hours and hours until their 10 fingers and 10 toes each shriveled up into raisins. I've blown a trillion bubbles and side walk chalked enough to draw a line around the world. I have loved, with my entire being, all day, every day.

In 9 months I have discovered even more about myself. I am very aware that I am as complex as there are drops of water in the ocean. Each day is an adventure, some days better than others. My already wonderful marriage has flourished. Together we are as strong as the tides. The waves crashing against the rocks, slowly carving away, constantly changing the surface, are no match for our love and our strength together. After all of this, I know that we can accomplish anything. 18 months ago we started slowly treading water. We have since, learned to swim.

'Seasons of Love'

By: Jonathan Larson

Five hundred twenty-five thousand

Six hundred minutes,

Five hundred twenty-five thousand

Moments so dear.

Five hundred twenty-five thousand

Six hundred minutes

How do you measure, measure a year?

In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights

In cups of coffee

In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife.

In five hundred twenty-five thousand

Six hundred minutes

How do you measure

A year in the life?

How about love?

How about love?

How about love? Measure in love

Seasons of love. Seasons of love

Five hundred twenty-five thousand

Six hundred minutes!

Five hundred twenty-five thousand

Journeys to plan.

Five hundred twenty-five thousand

Six hundred minutes

How do you measure the life

Of a woman or a man?

In truths that she learned,

Or in times that he cried.

In bridges he burned,

Or the way that she died.

It's time now to sing out,

Tho' the story never ends

Let's celebrate

Remember a year in the life of friends

Remember the love!

Remember the love!

Seasons of love!

Oh you got to got to 

Remember the love! 

You know that love is a gift from up above 

Share love, give love spread love 

Measure measure your life in love.

25 Rules: Dedicated in Loving Memory of Chris

This will be a long post. Not only is it a long post, but I also waited too long to write this one. An old high school friend shared '25 Rules for Mothers of Daughters' on his Facebook wall back on April 25th, 2013. Usually, when someone shares such a long read I just skip it altogether. This one, I actually decided to read because of who shared it and it moved me. I immediately copied and saved it because I knew that I wanted to use it in my blog. I planned on giving this old friend props in my post and a big thank you for sharing these wonderful words. Unfortunately, this friend passed away unexpectedly on May 19th, 2013. Shame on me for waiting so long. You just never know. Chris Bragelman, this one is for you. R.I.P.

Reading these rules, I was able to see where my strong points and weaknesses as a mother are, quite clearly. Most of these rules can apply to raising sons, too. I hope you enjoy them as much as I did and I will make my additions in italics so you may know my own words from the unknown author. So, here goes...

25 RULES FOR MOTHERS OF DAUGHTERS

1. Paint her nails. Then let her scratch it off and dirty them up. Teach her to care about her appearance, and then quickly remind her that living and having fun is most important.

I find myself shying away from messier crafts because I don't have the energy or the time to clean up all the extra messes in addition to the daily ones I clean already. Too often I may tell her not to get dirty because we have something or other else to do. I need to work on this. I need to create more time for plain old messy fun.

2. Let her put on your makeup, even if it means bright-red-smudged lips and streaked-blue eyes. Let her experiment in her attempts to be like you…then let her be herself.

On my To-Do list.

3. Let her be wild. She may want to stay home and read books on the couch, or she may want to hop on the back of a motorcycle-gasp. She may be a homebody or a traveler. She may fall in love with the wrong boy, or meet Mr. right at age 5. Try to remember that you were her age once. Everyone makes mistakes, let her make her own.

I feel like this is one of my stronger points as a mother. My two oldest children are teenagers now and I am doing my best to keep things in perspective and not stunt their social growth through my own insecurities. Time will tell if I get this one right. 

4. Be present. Be there for her at her Kindergarten performances, her dance recitals, her soccer games…her everyday-little-moments. When she looks through the crowds of people, she will be looking for your smile and pride. Show it to her as often as possible.

This one hits home pretty hard right now. I have missed so much of my two older sons' baseball games and such because of the three younger children. I do what I can but still feel like it is never enough. It hurts in my heart sometimes. I try to communicate openly and hope that they do not grow to resent their three younger siblings someday. I hope this gets better as the babies get older and are more conveniently mobile.

5. Encourage her to try on your shoes and play dress-up. If she would rather wear her brother’s superman cape with high heels, allow it. If she wants to wear a tutu or dinosaur costume to the grocery store, why stop her? She needs to decide who she is and be confident in her decision.

I got this! I have no problem with my children and what they choose to wear or be. I only get involved if it would be unsafe weather wise. Other than that, they can wear what they wish. Boys can wear pink. Girls can love dinosaur jammies.

6. Teach her to be independent. Show her by example that woman can be strong. Find and follow your own passions. Search for outlets of expression and enjoyment for yourself- not just your husband or children. Define yourself by your own attributes, not by what others expect you to be. Know who you are as a person, and help your daughter find out who she is.

The last eleven years of my life, I have been working on this exact thing. I hope my children see it and absorb it and know that I know myself, respect myself and try to better myself. I am learning to follow my dreams. I hope they do theirs.

7. Pick flowers with her. Put them in her hair. There is nothing more beautiful than a girl and a flower.

Did. Do. Done. Will continue to do so. I am a hippie, though.

8. Let her get messy. Get messy with her, no matter how much it makes you cringe inside. Splash in the puddles, throw snowballs, make mud pies, finger paint the walls: just let it happen. The most wonderful of memories are often the messy ones.

Cringe...within reason...sigh...

9. Give her good role models- you being one of them. Introduce her to successful woman- friends, co-workers, doctors, astronauts, or authors. Read to her about influential women- Eleanor Roosevelt, Rosa Parks, Marie Curie. Read her the words of inspirational women- Jane Austen, Sylvia Plath, Emily Dickinson. She should know that anything is possible.

I will try.

10. Show her affection. Daughters will mimic the compassion of their mother. “I love yous” and Eskimo kisses go a long way.

There is no lack of affection in our household. Hugs, kisses, I love yous. Sometimes I even wonder if I say it too much...or is there such a thing. I can't get enough of my children. Even though it is nice and peaceful to run to the grocery store alone...I still miss my kids, deep down, the whole time.

11. Hold her hand. Whether she is 3 years-old in the parking lot or sixteen years old in the mall, hold on to her always- this will teach her to be confident in herself and proud of her family.

I do. I will. She'll know.

12. Believe in her. It is the moments that she does not believe in herself that she will need you to believe enough for both of you. Whether it is a spelling test in the first grade, a big game or recital, a first date, or the first day of college…remind her of the independent and capable woman you have taught her to be.

Of course.

13. Tell her how beautiful she is. Whether it is her first day of Kindergarten, immediately after a soccer game where she is grass-stained and sweaty, or her wedding day. She needs your reminders. She needs your pride. She needs your reassurance. She is only human.

She is. As are all my children. Don't think anything could change this.

14. Love her father. Teach her to love a good man, like him. One who lets her be herself…she is after all wonderful.

I lucked out on this one. We have been together for eleven years and today happens to be our 5th wedding anniversary. I love you always and forever, Allen. Thanks for being so easy to love.

15. Make forts with boxes and blankets. Help her to find magic in the ordinary, to imagine, to create and to believe in fairy tales. Someday she will make her 5 by 5 dorm-room her home with magic touches and inspiration. And she will fall in love with a boy and believe him to be Prince Charming.

I do these things but could always improve and do them more often. There is nothing like a wonderful imagination!

16. Read to her. Read her Dr. Seuss and Eric Carle. But also remember the power of Sylvia Plath and Robert Frost. Show her the beauty of words on a page and let her see you enjoy them. Words can be simply written and simply spoken, yet can harvest so much meaning. Help her to find their meaning.

I read to my children all of the time but I could definitely work on what I read to them. It is just so easy to grab a simple book or two or three. Maybe I should reach for something more substantial.

17. Teach her how to love- with passion and kisses. Love her passionately. Love her father passionately and her siblings passionately. Express your love. Show her how to love with no restraint. Let her get her heart broken and try again. Let her cry, and gush, giggle and scream. She will love like you love or hate like you hate. So, choose love for both you and her.

Truer words there could not be.

18. Encourage her to dance and sing. Dance and sing with her- even if it sounds or looks horrible. Let her wiggle to nursery rhymes. Let her dance on her daddy's feet and spin in your arms. Then later, let her blast noise and headbang in her bedroom with her door shut if she wants. Or karaoke to Tom Petty in the living room if she would rather. Introduce her to the classics- like The Beatles- and listen to her latest favorite- like Taylor Swift. Share the magic of music together, it will bring you closer- or at least create a soundtrack to your life together.

Music comes easily in our home.

19. Share secrets together. Communicate. Talk. Talk about anything. Let her tell you about boys, friends, school. Listen. Ask questions. Share dreams, hopes, concerns. She is not only your daughter, you are not only her mother. Be her friend too.

I am as open with my children as humanly possible and age appropriately I can be. I remind them that I am here for them, often. I ask questions. I dig deeper than their one word answers. I care and they know it.

20. Teach her manners. Because sometimes you have to be her mother, not just her friend. The world is a happier place when made up of polite words and smiles.

I have been blessed with very well behaved and polite children. I know that people give me most of the credit, but my spouse, family, friends and even the children themselves deserve some, too. It is a group effort.

21. Teach her when to stand-up and when to walk away. Whether she has classmates who tease her because of her glasses, or a boyfriend who tells her she is too fat - let her know she does not have to listen. Make sure she knows how to demand respect - she is worthy of it. It does not mean she has to fight back with fists or words, because sometimes you say more with silence. Also make sure she knows which battles are worth fighting. Remind her that some people can be mean and nasty because of jealousy, or other personal reasons. Help her to understand when to shut her mouth and walk-away. Teach her to be the better person.

This is a constant effort as a parent. I have children ranging in age from fourteen years to nine months. These struggles come at every twist and turn and step of the way. Diligence. Persistence. Respect.

22. Let her choose who she loves. Even when you see through the charming boy she thinks he is, let her love him without your disapproving words; she will anyway. When he breaks her heart, be there for her with words of support rather than I told-you-so. Let her mess up again and again until she finds the one. And when she finds the one, tell her.

My mom did this for me, and I will pay it forward to my children. I would not have listened to disapproving words. I had to live and learn. I had to experience life. I had to grow and build character. Everyone should.

23. Mother her. Being a mother - to her - is undoubtedly one of your greatest accomplishments. Share with her the joys of motherhood, so one day she will want to be a mother too. Remind her over and over again with words and kisses that no one will ever love her like you love her. No one can replace or replicate a mother's love for their children.

If you get a chance to someday, ask my daughter how much I love her. She knows.

24. Comfort her. Because sometimes you just need your mommy. When she is sick, rub her back, make her soup and cover her in blankets - no matter how old she is. Someday, if she is giving birth to her own child, push her hair out of her face, encourage her, and tell her how beautiful she is. These are the moments she will remember you for. And someday when her husband rubs her back in attempt to comfort her...she may just whisper, "I need my mommy."

I do and I hope she always allows me to. That goes for all five of my precious children.

25. Be home. When she is sick with a cold or broken heart, she will come to you; welcome her. When she is engaged or pregnant, she will run to you to share her news; embrace her. When she is lost or confused, she will search for you; find her. When she needs advice on boys, schools, friends or an outfit; tell her. She is your daughter and will always need a safe harbor - where she can turn a key to see comforting eyes and a familiar smile; be home.

I am home.

Desperations of a Wounded Mother

Image from: http://lovejays.com/2013/10/08/struggling-with-depression/

I have been compelled to write this post. I will be as respectful as possible and am not looking to be a martyr. I just have feelings, thoughts and insights that I would like to share, based on a recent local news event. Specifically, an old high school class mate that has allegedly committed murder-suicide on herself and two young children, ages six and seven. The medical examiners are still wrapping things up, so there is still the tiniest bit of hope that the toxicology reports could refute these preliminary findings, but I will admit, my hopes are not high. This is quite tragic and has sent my mind spinning. I am saddened.

Let me begin by admitting I was not close with Stephanie Miskowiec Shields, or as I knew her, Steph. We were only acquaintances in high school and graduated together in the Class of '96. Our graduating class was nearly 600 and knowing everyone was rather impossible. I do remember her though, but have not seen her since. What I do remember is that she was a sweet girl, kind of quiet and petite. She had beautiful eyes that twinkled when she smiled and when she wore her hair up and pulled back from her face she was quite beautiful. She was friendly to me, although we just had the kind of relationship where you say "Hi, how are you?" in the hall at passing time and move on with your day. We had very few classes together, as our interests were very different: she loved Cross-Country anything and my world revolved around music and theatre. At 35 years old, looking back, this whole situation blows my mind. How could life have become so sad for Steph that this was the only way she felt she could cope? I am not expecting to ever be able to answer this question definitively.

There have been many murder-suicides at the hand of the mother over the last many years; Lashanda Armstrong, Susan Smith, Andrea Yates, Melanie Reyes and Mayra Perez, just to name a few. Most of us can not fathom what could possibly bring a mother to the edge so severely. In my mind I say that there is no way in the spectrum of the world that anything would ever make me take the lives of my children, no matter what. Now that Steph is gone and I can sort of say I knew someone who did this horrific thing, is it really fair of me to conclude my thoughts so absolute? Now, I can not bring myself to judge Steph as harshly as I have knee-jerk judged the other mothers in history who have done the same terrible thing. My mind had just been opened, not necessarily for the better.

In the last 35 years I have had my fair share of trials and tribulations. I have had my private desperate moments where I contemplated if it would just be better for everyone involved and easier on myself to give up, doubting my abilities, strengths and will, both before I had children and after. I have rarely spoken of these moments to anyone before because it is embarrassing and a little shameful when I admit weakness, but after watching the tornado of comments flying around on facebook, and the like, I feel strong enough to admit it, this is my way of respecting the memory of Stephanie. I am sure many of you out there have had a mental slip up or two and considered the possibilities. All alone, crying for hours, mind spinning out of control, maybe sitting curled up on the bathroom floor, afraid to move, just in case. Then again, maybe not. I will say that the thought of taking my childrens' lives has truly never once crossed my mind. Never. They are my world, my reason to live and walk upon this Earth. I believe I was put here for them, I was made to be their mother.

That being said, I know we are all made differently. I was able to push through my moments of despair. I have a very strong and supportive family. If anything were to ever happen to me, either self inflicted or not, my children would be taken care of. I also know that there are many factors to consider, when you are thinking about the possibility of not being around for your children anymore: who could afford to raise them properly, who would be willing to bear that burden for me, who would be able to show them unconditional love forever, would the children be able to mentally handle me not being here anymore and/or get the counseling and support they would desperately need to move on and grow into healthy and fulfilled individuals, the list of questions goes on and on. My only conclusion is that Steph possibly had no answers for these questions and made a sad decision. She must have truly felt, in that specific moment of turmoil, that she had absolutely no other choice. Right or wrong, feelings are real and can be poisonous and painful and sometimes, unbearable.

I can sit here and say that I would never ever do the same thing until I am blue in the face and I am fairly certain that this is truthful, but I also know that I never exactly walked a day in her shoes, I may have never felt as down and out as she must have felt. I have a different family and different friends. Our mental genetics are not the same. I can say from experience that I know full well what it is like to keep deep dark secrets. Last night while I was sad and thinking of Steph I peeked at her facebook profile. The pictures are numerous and they all appear so cheerful. Many photos of her and her two gorgeous children, all smiles on bright sunny days, doing family things together out on the boat and in a marathon of some sort. The appearance of fun and as if nothing could possibly be wrong. I have been there. I have presented myself as a happy and content person to the world in my past in order to hide what was truly going on at home and in my life, behind closed doors. I felt I was strong enough to get past it, I was woman enough to remain stoic and keep getting up everyday for my childrens' sake, I would stay in my situation forever just for their happiness. I did not last forever and ten years ago I had to make some serious life changes. This was by no means easy and I had one of my dark periods where I spent most nights after the children were asleep, sobbing uncontrollably, contemplating solutions...some darker than others. Somehow, someway, I made it through; Stephanie, and many many others did/do not.

I am sorry. Sorry for Steph and all the other mothers who caved in to their darkness, sorry for the families who will never know why, sorry for the public and all of their speculations, sorry for the husbands, estranged or not, this would/will be terribly difficult to get past. But, mostly, today, I am sorry for those two sweet ginger babies that have been taken so abruptly from their community, with no say whatsoever. My heart bleeds for them. The mothers probably couldn't think ahead to the mess they would leave, their brains being so distraught and overflowing with sadness. As mothers, they wouldn't have wanted for their children to be remembered this way. An irreversible mistake. I feel extreme empathy and my heart hurts. I will hug my children a little bit harder this evening. Hug yours for me, too.

Big Daddy...Tribute

In preparation for the one year anniversary of my blog coming up, I went back and perused my previous posts. In doing so, I have come across a situation I would like to remedy. My blog is (mostly) about me and my journey as a mother and the other many hats I may wear at times. It is also about why I am the way that I am; where I have come from and where I wish I could be. This is exactly what I wanted the blog to be about but there is one very important person from my life that has not been represented because he is not a mother. So, Daddy, this one's for you.

When you are a little girl, your father is one of the biggest pieces of your world. He is magical and awesome. He is the smartest person you know. When you are with him you feel safe and protected, loved and adored. The hugs he gives are unmatched by anyone else. No one can mess with you as long as you have your Daddy; he can make all of your pains go away with just one kiss. He is your first true love and you will spend the rest of your life comparing the men you meet to him. Those can be some pretty big shoes to fill.

Unconditional love. This my father has taught me. As a parent, this is an important quality. When I was a teenager I began to withdraw a bit from my father. I know this is pretty typical teenage girl stuff and I can't tell you when exactly this began to happen. We both made some mistakes with each other but there was never ever a doubt in my mind that he loved me anyway, and I him. At that age there is usually going to be a butting of heads, I know. The reasons are unimportant. The important part was the unconditional love that we have for each other and being able to meet again on the other side. He was there for me.

A true believer. My biggest fan. My father is a very talented guitar player. His passion for music and his abilities were, thankfully, passed on to my brothers and myself. He supported me in my efforts with music. He gave me my first (and second and third) guitar, drove me to lessons, came to every concert and show. He had part of our garage converted into a music room for us and equipped it with all we could need. I was the first girl in my high school to be in her own rock band and this could not have been possible without him. He was there for us every step of the way. He even went out and helped us get t-shirts made up. He was a cool Dad to have.

Daddy

My Dad is a trooper. He would do anything for me. I remember a time when I was in high school that he did me a favor I will never forget. It was shortly after he and my Mom had separated. I wanted my hair dyed and figured I would have to wait until I could get over to Mom's apartment. He offered to dye it for me. Now, I have a ton of hair and it can be quite a task, but he was totally willing. The best part about this story is that my Dad is not a small man and the gloves that come with the hair dye are definitely not made for hands like his. The gloves did not take their time to rip open but he just kept on going. My hair turned out beautiful and his poor hands were stained for a while. What a great Dad to do that for his only daughter. Another moment that I will never forget is from him at my wedding. He walked me down the isle, precious, and later played the guitar until his fingers bled. True devotion.

Devotion in Action

What is in a name? In my opinion, honor. All five of my children have a family name as one of their names, first or middle, and then their other name is one I just liked and found unique. One of my new twin babies received the middle name, James, in honor of my father. My father does not actually use this name for reasons which are his own and not my story to tell. I will say that his reasons are valid and I respect them. I asked his permission to use this name and am very glad he allowed me to. Now I have "E" James, and here is why...

My father is a good man. He is a wonderful father and has twelve, almost thirteen, adoring grandchildren. One of my brothers was named after my father, David. My brother passed this name onto his first born son as his middle name. So, in actuality, passing on "James" may not have been entirely necessary but it was still very important to me. Growing up I always felt like this name was almost a taboo. I feel my father deserves better than that. These grandchildren are part of his legacy and the future of this family. The future is ours to mold and I thought it time to turn this name into a positive. My son E will wear it with pride, as was the way I gave it to him.

My father is a big part of who I am even though he is not a "mother". He is one of the many influences I have had in my life. Without our relationship, I would not have turned out the same, and I kinda like how I turned out so far. Ha! We have had our ups and our downs but in the end I would not change a thing. These are all pieces of the puzzle that is me. I will parent my children using our past and our present as examples. I hope to offer my children the same level of devotion and unconditional love that my father bestowed upon me. I hope to support them through all of their endeavors and remain their biggest fan. Thanks for being there for me always, Daddy. I love you always and forever.

Head Over Heels

In March it will have been ten years since the man of my dreams walked into my life and flipped my world upside down. The day I met him is the only time I remember ever being truly speechless. I was not expecting him. I was not ready for him. I was definitely not looking for him. Yet he found me all the same. I am so glad he did.

I was so unhappy. I had given up on my own happiness. I will not go in to the nitty-gritty details of my problems back then because I love my sons and I respect their relationship with their father. I will say that I was holding on for the sake of my two children no matter what it cost me mentally, physically and socially. I had recently started a new job and went back to school. I would go to work during the day and go straight home to the kids when I was done. I did not attempt to build new relationships with my coworkers at first. Over a few months I began to make new friends and become more involved. It was nice to have peers again. I started to believe I was worth something. I was getting my long lost confidence back. It still was not enough of a push.

Then one day in March of 2002, while I was working and minding my own business, my coworker pointed behind me and said, "Look, there's the new guy." I turned around and I couldn't speak. I actually turned a little red in the face. There was an amazing guy walking right by me to go fill out his new hire paperwork. I stood there like an idiot. My coworker thought this was very funny and pointed and laughed at me. I think I even spilled a little clam chowder on her to shut her up. I was in a long term committed relationship. I knew there was nothing I would do about this but I am human and he was gorgeous. A little bit of excitement in an otherwise dull day.

For the next couple of months I got to know him a little better. He was such a great guy and was absorbed into our close knit group of friends very quickly. He fit right in. I was developing a little bit of a crush even. Yikes! I respect committed relationships and I would never cheat on someone. I have always felt very strongly about this for reasons I will not discuss. I remember there was one night we were at work together and I had a psychology project I was working on for college. I interviewed him as one of my subjects and we got to talking afterwards. We admitted to one another that we had crushes on each other. We also discussed how we were both in serious relationships and that our partners were important to us. It was truly a harmless conversation but one I will never forget. It unintentionally changed me in ways I did not know until years later.

Someone actually found me attractive. I was not a used-up, good for nothing, girl with baggage. Someone found me interesting. Just knowing that gave me the strength to admit to myself that I did not like my life; a thought I had been burying deep down inside myself for at least five years. I woke up. I deserved better.  I did not have to settle in my situation for the rest of my life. I tasted change and I wanted more. So I changed it.

April and May of 2002 was the hardest time I have had in my whole life. The majority of the tears I have shed in my lifetime was during those two months. Not only had I decided it was time to leave my partner of seven years and change the lives of my sons forever, I lost my Grandmother and a step-sister during the same time. One to old age and one to suicide. I was a wreck. I was not leaving my Ex to be with this new guy but he did give me a wake up call to re access my world. I hope I never have to experience pain like that ever again.

My life has been uphill ever since. I had no intention of being in a new relationship so quickly after my last had ended. But, within a couple months we were inseparable. It was so easy with him. I decided that I was not going to let what happened in my past jeopardize my future with him. The timing was not our fault. I could not let this wonderful man slip away, I just had to be careful how we proceeded because I had two beautiful young boys to consider and I did not want to put them through any more trauma. I knew he was "the one". I even told a friend that I was going to marry him someday. I didn't introduce him to my boys until October 2002. I had him over for a spaghetti dinner and then he left. We took it slowly with the kids. We agreed that they did not need another father but that a decent male role model is always a good thing. When the boys were home with me, we were apart and when the boys went to their father's, we were together. We made it work.

Fast forward nearly ten years, I still adore him. He is my match in every way; we fit like puzzle pieces. All the pain of my past was worth it just to get me to this place. We were married in June of 2008. We wrote our own vows and one of my main points was that he lets me be the Mom I always wanted to be. That is huge to me. He accepts me for who I am in every way. I am happy everyday to wake up next to him, to share my children with him and to continue to build the life we have. I love you, Allen. Thank you for everything and being you. Beep beep.