Preschool Graduation Blues

Yesterday was Baby Girl's last day of preschool. I can't believe that she will be in kindergarten in the fall! She just missed the age cut-off to be in kindergarten this year, so she is one of the oldest in her class and is my personal oldest preschool graduate. In preparation for her inevitable melancholy, I tried to shore up my emotional resources and plan fun activities-activities that she can do on her own so I can continue, uninterrupted, to eat bon bons while being fanned with palm frawns!

 Baby Girl is quite a precocious tot, and not in a fun-to-brag-about-at a cocktail party, "and it was so cute, yesterday she wrote a song about the periodic table of elements, you should hear the way she pronounces technetium" way, but in more of a if-I-hold-my-breath-can-I-fit-under-that-pew? "Mommy, this is the song that Kurt sang with Darren Criss on Glee, last year, on the Christmas episode-remember?" kind of way- and did I mention, that baby girl can really project her voice?-okay, so I am not proud-well only a little-but my point is, you never really know what to expect with Baby Girl. (But odds are good that it will include a spot-on Lady Gaga impression.)

I picked Baby Girl up from her VERY LAST DAY OF PRESCHOOL EVER and asked her teacher if there were many tears. No, no tears, she said. After baby girl was all buckled in her car seat I asked her if she was so sad about her last day of school. I was quite surprised when all she said was, "I will really miss the Gingerbread Cottage next year. Maybe I can pretend I am 4 and go back next year!" Giggle, giggle. "Can we have Chick-Fil-A for lunch?"

Really?!? I look at her via the rear view mirror-searching for signs of heart-ache. Nothing.

"Sure, that sounds good. You've had such a big day," pause, "I mean, the very last day you will EVER be in preschool. That's huge! Kinda sad, huh?"

"Yeah. Can I have a chicken salad sandwich and sweet tea? I'm really hungry."

"Sure babe. I'm sure that will help make you feel less sad."

"Ummm, okay. French fries too?"

"Of course! French fries are perfect for mending a broken-heart."

"What?"

"Never mind."

So, next month, Oldest Daughter graduates from high school...

Amazing Grace!

Today, I am celebrating my oldest daughter. There is no specific reason why I’m doing this today, except that I just find her absolutely fabulous! I often look at her with complete awe and amazement-she makes me want to be a better person! There are so many special things about my oldest daughter, she nurturing, funny, charming, smart, kind-hearted and often acts more like a 40 year-old girlfriend than like my 18 year-old daughter. The following text exchange from a couple of weeks ago is the perfect illustration:

Oldest Daughter: Sorry about being grumpy this morning.

Me: That’s okay, thank you. Andrew is welcomed to come to dinner tonight, I don’t know what we’re having though. Maybe Cap’n Crunch Chicken Nuggets. (Actually, I am a terrible texter-so it really said “I don’t know what we are having. Maybecpancrunch chickennuggrts“)
OD: If you have time to make it, that sounds delicious. I don’t want you to be stressed out though. I think we are all still recovering from this weekend.

Me: Are you a 40 year old trapped in an 18 year old’s body? (real text-Ar you a 40 year old tra00ed in 18 year oldks boody?)

OD: Probably! Ha ha!

*I feel pretty confident that the ‘Ha ha” was for the comment, not for the bad texting skills!

And not long ago she said, “You’re probably tired of doing all the Mom stuff today, why don’t you go relax and I will take care of dinner.”

Truly, she’s a remarkable girl. I feel very blessed to have her for my daughter. Recently, oldest daughter was so moved by the film A Walk to Beautiful that she decided to try to raise $10,000 to help women in developing countries get corrective surgery for childbirth injuries (obstetric fistula). A Walk to Beautiful is an award winning documentary that tells the story of 5 Ethiopian women who suffer from obstetric fistula and their harrowing ordeal. These women were ostracized by their husband, family and community. They each decided to travel to the Addis Ababa Fistula Hospital in order to seek treatment. If you have an opportunity, I would highly recommend watching it, it is life-changing!

I love that my sweet daughter has a heart for those around her and that she cares so much for the global community. I also love that she sets big goals. It really fills my heart!

She will be going to college next fall and we will all miss her terribly, but it will be so exciting to watch all amazing things she will do!

If you would like to help oldest daughter reach her goal and help women across the globe, please go to  http://www.gofundme.com/etp2g

Discombobulation

I can't believe it has been over a month since I posted. Suddenly, time seems to be playing tricks on me. Things that happened a year ago, seem like just a few months ago, the details of the situation clear and fresh, yet I can't recall what I had for dinner last night-oh yeah, I remember now, I forgot to have dinner last night!

Lately, my world seems off-kilter, nothing specific has happened and I can't pinpoint what is off, but it seems like my entire world has been moved 1/2 inch to the left. It is absolutely discombobulating!

Several years ago (or was it several months ago?) there was a "Mad About You" episode where Jamie Buchman (Helen Hunt) and her sister Lisa Stemple (Anne Ramsay) accidentally switched handbags. The always organized Jamie was suddenly disheveled, out of sorts, an all-around mess, while perpetually disorganized Lisa suddenly had it all together. I feel like Jamie; as if someone switched handbags with me.

It is a slippery slope when things begin to veer off course. I am usually pretty laid-back and try to roll with things as much as I can, but I'm looking around my house, that is filled with souvenir items for a show youngest son is in right now (The Music Man) and notice the clean clothes that need put away, the clean dishes in the dishwasher, and the 465 pairs of shoes that need returned to various closets throughout the house. And I must admit, it feels totally overwhelming! Too overwhelming to even deal with.

This weekend is the final weekend of the show, after which the fabulous items and all their fixin's will be gone and I will be able to reclaim my home. I hope that helps and inspires me to deal with all the other stuff. I also hope that once I get everything back to "normal" my world will move back 1/2 inch to the right and someone will return my handbag!

Oh, Those Clever Birds!

Two days ago, baby girl told me "I am very busy today, Mama, so I don't have time to________"  insert undesirable task here. Phew, she had quite a day-meetings, phone calls, deadlines! Anyway, I realize she was trying to avoid doing things that she did not want to do, but the sound of my own words coming back to me left me a little rattled. Then, yesterday morning, rushing through the grocery store parking lot before school, I had the following conversation with baby girl.

Baby Girl: "Look in the trees, Mama."
Me: "uh-huh." (Okay, I admit, I didn't look.)
Baby Girl: "Mama, birds eat berries from trees, right?"
Me: "Yes, darlin', now hurry up, we're going to be late."
Baby Girl: "Where do they get their drinks from?"
Me: "Ummm, rain water, I guess." I said as I was navigating oblivious drivers and wayward shopping carts.
Baby Girl: "Oh. That's very clever of them."

I mentally applauded her use of the word clever and her appreciation for ornithological survival skills. But after I rushed in and out of the store, dropped baby girl off at school and was sitting in the quiet of my car, it occurred to me, we need to slow down. It's not that life is passing us by, but we are passing life by. Not only do I need to stop and smell the roses, but, I need to stop so baby girl can smell the roses. I need to pause so she can splash in puddles, watch the clouds, and listen to the birds! I know what roses smell like, but if I'm not careful, baby girl never will.

choice

My heart has been heavy over the past several days. The "niece" of a friend of mine passed away after a valiant life. I started to say, after a valiant fight against cancer, but realized that, although I didn't know her, I'm sure she lived her whole life in a boldly courageous way. Her name is Jessie Rees. She was truly amazing and as I followed her battle on facebook, I was so touched by her strength and joy. She and her parents started an organization (check out her story and foundation at http://www.thenegufoundation.org/) to spread hope, joy and love to other children fighting cancer. Amazing!

I am constantly in awe of people who are faced with horrendous challenges, terrible loss, unimaginable heartache, but continue to function. Many people in these situations, not only function, but contribute enormously to society. You often hear people say, what choice do they have? But, they do have a choice. There are so many people, in similar circumstances, who shut down, withdraw, spread hate.

Actually, we all have a choice. Bob Greene, (Oprah's fitness guru) once said that everything you do is either good for your body or bad for your body-there is no neutral. (Really? Sitting and eating french fries isn't neutral, Bob? I beg to differ.) And while my family's favorite game is "Argue Against Anything Anyone Ever Said, Especially Oprah Fitness Guru Bob Greene"-AAAAESEOFGBG for short, I embrace Bob's philosophy and take it one step further (which could explain my family's desire to disprove it). I think that it applies to living life. Everything we do is either good for ourselves, our families, our society or it is not. It seems extreme-but I feel that doing nothing isn't neutral- it's a missed opportunity to make things better.

Ugh!

Keeping a blog is like keeping a diary. There are people out there who write, faithfully, every day. I am not those people. I absolutely love writing, if I had time I would write for hours every day. Write and create art and eat only healthy foods. But who has time?!? I've read about people who spend hours writing every day. Okay, so these people are Writers- making a living writing and probably don't have 6 children-or at least have a really good nanny. They are clearly way more a) organized b) motivated c) paid, than I am! But I'm okay with that. As I said, I love to write and do it, whenever I can carve out the time, for personal entertainment and the occasional entertainment of others.

When I do write, I feel a sense of accomplishment, and usually am tickled, renewed, or unburdened, by my musings. But I must admit, lately, the only feeling I am experiencing after I write is complete and total irritation! Every time I try to post an entry on my blog it shows up BLANK! How annoying is that?!? Oh, the title is there, but there is no body, no content, no indication of the clever observations I have made. So, ironically enough, I am venting, through my blog, that may or may not post more than the title... UGH! Is this another futile attempt? Perhaps, but for the moment, I feel completely tickled, renewed and unburdened!

Everywhere... love and memories

This morning, as I was running errands, I heard the song Everywhere by Michelle Branch. When the song was released in July 2001, I liked it. I even bought the CD (back before the days of downloading-I actually drove to the store and purchased it-I know, I know, the good old days!) Anyway, I enjoyed it, but it didn't change my life or sear my heart. But it has since become extremely meaningful to me.
While I was pregnant with Hart, I turned to music as a way to deal with all the emotions I was attempting to juggle. I would drive around for hours listening to music-very loud music. After Hart was born, I turned down the volume, but music was usually playing in the background of our lives. Soon after Hart died, the song, Everywhere came on. I was absolutely blown away. I got chills and was totally overcome with emotion. As I listened to the words, I felt like this song was written about Hart; it completely articulated what I could not. To this day, when I hear this song, I am blown away by how perfectly it expresses the huge emotions I feel about my amazing son!

Everywhere
Turn it inside out so I can see
The part of you that's drifting over me
And when I wake you're never there
But when I sleep you're everywhere
You're everywhere

Just tell me how I got this far
Just tell me why you're here and who you are
'Cause every time I look
You're never there
And every time I sleep
You're always there

'Cause you're everywhere to me
And when I close my eyes it's you I see
You're everything I know
That makes me believe
I'm not alone
I'm not alone

I recognize the way you make me feel
It's hard to think that
You might not be real
I sense it now, the water's getting deep
I try to wash the pain away from me
Away from me

'Cause you're everywhere to me
And when I close my eyes it's you I see
You're everything I know
That makes me believe
I'm not alone
I'm not alone

I am not alone
Whoa, oh, oh, oh

And when I touch your hand
It's then I understand
The beauty that's within
It's now that we begin
You always light my way
I hope there never comes a day
No matter where I go
I always feel you so

'Cause you're everywhere to me
And when I close my eyes it's you I see
You're everything I know
That makes me believe
I'm not alone
'Cause you're everywhere to me
And when I catch my breath
It's you I breathe
You're everything I know
That makes me believe
I'm not alone

You're in everyone I see
So tell me
Do you see me?
-Michelle Branch

As we were planning Hart's funeral, I realized that I wanted to have music playing during the receiving line after the service. I asked my dad to burn a CD with songs that were so meaningful to our family during my pregnancy and during Hart's life. Our beloved minister, Dr. Joan, arranged for the sound system and we were able to set it to replay when it reached the end of the CD.
Something happened that makes me smile every time I think about it. A little while after the music started playing, Dr. Joan came over to me and whispered, "I think there's been a mix-up. Is this the right music?" It was the right CD, but I can understand Dr. Joan's confusion. I have included the play list below, it didn't even occur to me that it might not be appropriate for church! All that mattered was that it was appropriate for our family and our celebration of an amazing life!

Accidentally in Love- Counting Crows
All For You-Sister Hazel
Angel Mine-Cowboy Junkies
Angels in Waiting-Tammy Cochran
Camera One-Josh Joplin Group
Everything Falls Apart-Dog's Eye View
Everywhere-Michelle Branch
Follow You, Follow Me-Genesis
Fool in the Rain-Led Zeppelin
Forever Young-Rod Stewart
Hanging by a Moment-Lifehouse
Hemorrhage-Fuel
I Bid You Goodnight-Aaron Neville
Tears in Heaven-Eric Clapton
Put Your Hand in the Hand-Ocean
Save Tonight-Eagle Eye Cherry
Boys of Summer-The Ataris
The Wind-Cat Stevens
What a Wonderful World-Louis Armstrong
You're Still the One-Shania Twain

Gingerbread village....Ta-da!

Our gingerbread village is complete! Well, like most things in our lives, it was complete, but the deterioration has already started! The moppets have decided that writing in powdered sugar is way more fun and less freezing than making snow angels in real snow! (It's also way messier, by the way, and the sticky residue is enough to make a person lose her mind-not to mention the fact that their graffiti is marring our pristine snow scape- but whatever!)

Anyway, here are the photos of our fabulous village! Please note that in addition to the 2 homes, there is a Target, a bakery, a train and a train station. This is my kind of village-2 families sharing 1 Target, 1 bakery and they can get out of town fast via public transport!

                                      Youngest Son's Train in front of Baby Girl's Train Station

Yippee, Moppets! Well done! Way to spread some Holiday cheer... and lots of powdered sugar!

Gingerbread fun!

Today, we began working on our gingerbread village. I know, that sounds fabulously elaborate, but in reality, it is the result of the desire to avoid teamwork. In an effort to make it through winter break with all the moppets in one piece, I opted for individual gingerbread creations, rather than endure the tension that comes from "working together" on one project.

When we moved to Virginia, we started making gingerbread houses. Like most things in our lives, it happened not by design, but by happenstance. We moved at the beginning of December and as I was making the rounds to the elementary school winter celebrations, Middle Son's teacher said to us, "I bet it's really hard to decide who does what on your family's gingerbread house, huh?" So, I mumbled, "Yes, we try to take turns." And I hurried everyone out the classroom door before my children could say, "what gingerbread house, Mom?"  Mentally, I noted, "In Virginia, everyone makes gingerbread houses." So...when in Rome, er eh, Virginia. Baby girl was 6 weeks old, and I knew no one, so I was staying close to home and had few diversions! "Make Gingerbread Structures" was added to the Holiday To Do list.

The creations are looking fabulous! Lots of creativity-and interesting insight to what each of the moppets feels is an important component of a village. I can't wait to see the finished products! In the meantime, I was on Pinterest today, looking for inspiration (I mean losing 7 hours of my day) when I saw something so funny and true that I had to laugh at myself-out loud, for a long time.

In my mind's eye, our gingerbread creations will look like this:

                                                                     

                                              Or even this!

                              

http://www.marthastewart.com/285839/your-best-gingerbread-houses/@center/307034/christmas-workshop#/280745

But in reality-they will probably look more like this:

http://www.delish.com/food/recalls-reviews/gingerbread-house-disasters

But I will still think they are FABULOUS! Ahhh, the beauty of love goggles!

Missing Hart

Today is the day. The day I dread each year. I wake up and feel heavy, gray, melancholy. It's not like some days, when you wake-up feeling fine and enjoy a few blissful, unaware moments before sadness washes over you. Today, there is no space between waking and feeling. I am sad today, I miss my baby. I just do. The things that make me grateful, and joyful when I think about Hart every other day of the year, just make me sad today.

Seven years ago today, my heart was shattered. I cannot even begin to describe the pain. Honestly, I was totally caught off-guard by the depth of the agony. I was prepared for Hart to die. I was prepared to be sad. We knew that he was going to live an abbreviated life. I had done everything that everyone (from experts to well-meaning "folks") told me to do in order to prepare for his death. Steadfast husband and I made a deal that we would live each day of his life without regret. We didn't want to have "should haves" or "would haves" cloud Hart's memory or create needless guilt. We tried to eliminate everything that makes death so, well- devastating. I was convinced that if the only thing I had to mourn was the days I would not have with my son, I could deal with it. I thought if my grief was pure sadness, not mired with regret and anger, that I would have an easier time losing Hart. But, there is no such thing. Losing your child is just ... indescribable.

There are two important things I learned when Hart died. First, there is no way to make the loss of a loved one easier-grief is all consuming-and for the person experiencing it, it's the worst grief there is. You cannot know the grief you do not feel, there really is no, "it could be worse" (despite the myriad of platitudes you hear)-when it comes to grieving, because it is the worst. You don't stop in the middle of your anguish and think, what a relief, I am only experiencing 82% grief-phew!

I also learned that it's easier to be angry than sad. When you are sad, you feel like the victim, as though you have no control over your own emotion. You cannot "work it out" or "set it aside" or "agree to disagree". You are in a vortex of darkness, at its mercy, waiting for it to tire of you and thrust you back into the light. When you are angry, you feel some power over your situation-a sense of control. You can work it out, resolve the situation, or take action. When Hart died, I longed for a reason to be angry, a cause to embrace, a wrong to make right. But there wasn't anything to fight against, I was just sad and had to find the momentum to make it through the day.

People told me, to just keep moving forward, continue putting one foot in front of the other, it will get better. And it is true, it does get "better", but there were so many days that I felt like I was on a treadmill, and no matter how hard I tried, I would be at the same spot at the end of the day that I was at the beginning. And to be honest, often, that felt like an enormous accomplishment.

Since that day, seven years ago, when my heart shattered, it has mended-or at least come back together. But it's not like in a cartoon, it hasn't been suddenly rejuvenated and made whole again-throbbing with renewal. It feels more like it has been scotch-taped together. The parts war-torn and scarred, drifted back together over time. Most of it is held together like taped Saran wrap-it may not look good, but it is strong, secure, and protects-but there are parts that are like sandcastles-they look lovely, but are easily knocked down and the tape just doesn't stick very well.

So, on December 8 each year, I honor my sadness. I wallow in my grief. I miss my son and for one day each year, I allow myself to let the sadness of my loss outweigh everything else.


The soul would have no rainbow had the eyes no tears. ~John Vance Cheney