There are days...

when I feel all I have accomplished is matching 5000 pairs of socks. (yes, I matched socks.  write this one down for the record books).

when the 11 year old is crying because he can't figure out his math homework, and I am a terrible teacher and can't seem to explain it to him.

when the 3 year old is cry because he needs "yapstick" because his lips are burning because he refuses to stop licking them.  and I can't find the damn chapstick even though I know it's in my purse somewhere and I dump everything out and look over and over before I realize it's in my pocket.

when the house is a mess, the bathroom smells like pee, and my day off is almost over so there is no time to clean.

when work stress creeps into my home life and I lie awake at night thinking of things I didn't do, I need to do or I should have done.

when "mom" is the only sound I hear. over. and over. and over.

when the sound of my children fighting (again) makes me want to scream 

when I am tired.  and stressed.  and easily angered.  and on the verge of tears.  

These are the days I miss mom the most.  The days when I need to hear her voice.  For her to say I am good enough, that I am a good mom.  That it's normal that I want to quit my job and run away.  That everything will be ok, tomorrow will be better.

 

Goodbye 2014

I ended the year in quite fittingly.  Sick and in bed.  Like 2014 just had to remind me, (like I had forgotten) what a bitch she was.  (Why did I have to make it a female??  I don't know, but in my experience, girls that are mean are way, way meaner than any a-hole guy).

I was asleep at 5:00.  Then back awake and reading, then back asleep by 9:00.  Let's be honest, I would have slept the entire time if my house didn't sound like someone was being murdered in here.  (I really turned my fan off to try and pinpoint the sound, which seemed to me like the screams of a woman being stabbed. It was the toy dinosaur Drew got for Christmas)

And right on cue, I woke up at 4:30 am.  I complain about Drew's internal timer but he gets it from me!

As I sat in the dark, willing my body to go back to sleep, I couldn't help but think about 2014.  Trying to think of something nice to say about her, cause like momma said, if you don't have anything nice to say...

January started off filled with hope.  I had lost some weight in 2013, was getting in shape at the gym.  Then I started having some back pain, and backed off the exercise, started seeing a chiropractor.

February is when my mother received her cancer diagnosis.  I will spare you the details of  Feb-May, because you have all read it, over and over, on this blog.  But she died on May 7th and changed my life forever.

The rest of the year is a blur.  A whirlwind of grief and day-by-day surviving. My sweet nephew was born in July.   Went to the beach later in July to spread her ashes.   A wine tasting trip with my best friends for my 33 birthday in September.

November brought a job offer for Jimmy.

December brought Christmas, my favorite time of year.  It was hard though.  As it got closer and closer to Christmas, the more it hurt.  Frequent crying jags were common, mostly on my way to work when there wasn't anyone in the car to distract me.

But I survived.  I made it though 7 months without my mom.  And now I have another year to go through without her

There were some bright spots, Emmett's birth, Jimmy's new job.  I saw my friends more.  I had so, so many people supporting me and my family.  I have never felt alone in all of this.  I always felt like there was someone to turn to.  I am so blessed.

2015?  I have some resolutions.  They are all your typical ones- lose weight, pay off debt, etc.  I just want to be the best version of my self that I can be.  I want to be healthy for my children and my future.  I want to focus less on the things that don't matter- the material things that I worry about, the things I feel like we don't "measure up" to.  I compare the things we have to the things others have and I often feel like we come up short.

But none of that matters, because I look back on my childhood with fondness, and we have far, far less than my children have.

So for 2015, I am going to continue to improve myself.  I am going to be thankful for the things I have.  I am going to continue missing my mom, this year and every year to come.

Happy New Year!

"The best Christmas ever"

Christmas is just a week away.  Time to finish up all the shopping, wrap all the gifts, plan the meal that I will cook for my family.

I can't help but think of my mom and the traditions we had.

I remember all the Christmases as a child.  We loved to go driving around together as a family, looking at Christmas lights. I remember my mom cussing while putting up the Christmas tree, the one we had was such a pain and she'd get frustrated, but once she got it up, we'd enjoy decorating it.

We had Christmas Eve dinner at Maw Maw's house.  Oh the food was amazing, so much better than what I cook now.  Maybe it's because I didn't have to cook it.  Laura and I would finish before everyone else, and head to the tree to start sorting presents.  We would sort them out and stack them for each person, and then wait impatiently to open them.

We never really believed in Santa, so a lot of times we'd convince Mom that we should open our gifts at home on Christmas Eve too.  Looking back, I wonder how mom and Maw Maw managed to give so much.  I think of what they must have sacrificed in order to give us such a good Christmas.

When I got married, we changed the traditions a little.  We spend Christmas Eve with Jimmy's family.  After we finish there, we head home so we can all open our new pajamas.  The boys head to bed, and it's time for me and Jimmy to play Santa.  My mom didn't think kids should believe in Santa, but I like the magic of Santa and the idea of believing in something you can't see.  It is important to me, and so we stay up late, putting together gifts and eating cookies.

The boys get up early.  I mean EARLY.  Last year I think it was around 4:00.  We get up, see the Santa gifts and open stockings.  Then I get breakfast ready while we wait for my mom and sister to come over.  They come over in their pj's.  We open all of our gifts to each other, and then we have breakfast.

This will be the hard part this year.  The part that will hurt, the part I cry about when I think of it.  Last year, mom seemed more tired than usual.  Makes sense now, the cancer was already doing it's damage, although we didn't know it yet.

Laura and mom leave after breakfast,  Mom has to work on the ham, I have to start cooking.  We have dinner around 5:00, and the rest of the family comes over.  After we eat, open gifts and play for awhile, I say the phrase I have said for years and years.  In fact, last year I almost forgot and mom said, "Aren't you going to say it?"

"This was the best Christmas ever".

And that will be the last time I say it.  Not that we won't have a wonderful Christmas.  Not that I won't enjoy seeing my family and giving them gifts and showing our love for each other.  But it can never be the best Christmas ever.  Not anymore.

I ask that you say a prayer for my family.  For all the families I know that have had a loss this year.  Who are celebrating Christmas without a parent or a child or a friend.  I hope you all have a blessed holiday. Merry Christmas!

Not my proudest moment...

Today did not start out well.

Well, it was good when the kids were still asleep.  I got up, had my coffee, made it to the gym.  Feeling good.

I get home and Drew is a nightmare.  Just in a horrible mood.  Crying over everything. Screaming at his brothers.  Making everything so much more difficult.  When he is like this, the older boys get on my nerves more.  The normal noise that they make is amplified by 1000.  I asked them several times to be quiet.  I asked Chris to stop picking on Luke.  I asked Luke to stop blowing on the horn.  (a funnel that Drew got from somewhere and they have used it as a "horn" ever since).

And still, we get in the car, and Drew is crying.  And Chris is being obnoxious.  And Luke is making noise with that damn funnel.  And then Drew starts yelling at them to be quiet and the car is filled with so much noise that I'm sure it registered on the Richter scale.

So this is the part of the store where I wish I could tell you that I calmly stopped the car (in the driveway, we hadn't even made it to the street yet), and gently but firmly asked them all to refrain from waking the freaking dead with their ridiculous noise.  And that they promptly and politely complied.


....


That is not what happened, I'm afraid.  Something inside of me snapped.  And I yelled, at the top of my lungs, "STTTTOOOOOPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP IIIIIIIIITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!  STOP IT! STOP IT! STOP IT!".  For a solid 20 seconds I yelled at the top of my lungs.  The older boys laughed at first and then just stared in amazement.  And Drew immediately burst into tears.  Terrified, horrified, I'm three years old and my mom has lost her marbles tears.

And so, I stopped the car.  And I got out, and I walked back to Drew, and I hugged him.  And I apologized and explained that he felt bad because I yelled, just like I feel bad when he yells.  I wiped his tears away.  Told the older boys I was sorry.  Told them all I loved them.  (Drew refused to say it back).  Got in the car and had a quiet ride to school.

All is well, Drew has forgiven me and loves me again.  The older boys are fine as usual.  I feel a little guilty, I normally don't lose it like that.  But I know it happens to all of us.  When we reach that point, and the stress is so high and the noise gets louder and no one is listening.  And we explode.  I don't like that I behaved that way, but at least my children know that I am human and make mistakes just like them.  At least they know that it's what you do AFTER you make a mistake that matters.  And how you learn from it.  And next time, I will just stop the car, get out, and scream into my jacket.

Blessings

It's Thanksgiving today.  As I sit here, watching Mickey Mouse Clubhouse with Drew (hot dog hot dog hot diggity dog!), I can't help but think of all the blessings that I have in my life.

We received an incredible extra blessing yesterday.  After 2 years of my husband working for me as a server, he has finally gotten a job.  A good job.  A job with lots of growth potential.  It is a huge relief for us.

When he called me at work to give me the news, I immediately started crying.  I was squatting down on the floor, phone in hand, crying in the middle of the restaurant.  Thank you Lord for this.  Thank you for giving us good news at the end of a horrible, terrible year!

I went into the office to cry alone for a few minutes (I have done that A LOT this year).  And I picked up the phone to share the news- the first number I called was my mom's.  Shit.  How I wish I could hear her voice when I told her.  How I wish I could have talked to her about it.

So I called my sister and told her.  And she cried.  It's been a long road for us and everyone knows it.

Tonight, when I pray before I go to sleep, I will say an extra prayer of thanks for all the things God has blessed us with.  This year has been hard, the hardest of my life.  But I have so many people in my life that love me.  I wouldn't have survived without them.  My husband, my sister, my best friends.  My family that offered help and support during so many hard times.

I will thank God for my dad that actually wants to see the boys and goes out of his way to spend time with them.  

I will thank God for my sweet nephew Emmett.  I love him so much and am so happy that he is here, not only for the relationship I have with him but for making my relationship with my brother stronger.

 I will thank God for my Blue Plate family, and the job I have that has supported my family while Jimmy went back to school and looked for job.  For a job that allowed me to care for my mother during her final weeks.

I will thank God for 32 years with my mother.  For all the memories I have of her.  For letting me still hear her voice if I close my eyes and concentrate.  For all the things she taught me, for all the ways she made me stronger.

Happy Thanksgiving, I hope everyone has as many things to be thankful for.

My unhealthy relationship

I'm not talking about a relationship with a person.  I'm talking about my relationship with food.

I'm not sure how I developed this relationship.  Maybe it comes from being southern.  We have a tendency to throw food at any problem, event, celebration, etc.  And it's always good (bad?) food.  

For example, when my mother was ill and we were caring for her, we had more food, pies, cakes than we could handle.  (I've never seen so much potato salad in my life).  I gained twenty pounds in those months.

Even when we were responsible for our on meals, we chose badly.  We needed comfort.  We needed fried and crunchy and cheesy and sweet.  We need chips and candy and snacks.  We "deserved" it.  Our mom was dying.

But why do we think that good makes us feel better?  Why do we turn to food for comfort?  Or reward?  Or celebration?

Does food make you feel better in the long run, or is it a temporary feeling?  Would a new pair of shoes satisfy you longer than an expensive, unhealthy dinner out?  Probably.  But we still reach for food in these circumstances.

I am currently trying to undo the damage of those few months.  Prior to her diagnosis, I had lost weight, built muscle and felt so much better.  It took me a long time to get back in the habit of going to the gym. But now I go daily with little trouble.

Food I still struggle with.  I am trying hard to retrain myself.  To look at food as fuel for my body.  To have a better balanced diet, where I am able to have an occasional treat without either extreme guilt or without a full on binge.

Wish me luck!

6 months

Every month, when the 7th rolls around, I get a little extra sad about my mom.  Today marks six months since she passed.  Six months since I saw her take her last breaths.  Six months since we sat on the back porch while they took her body away, then went back into a house that was eerily quiet without the sounds of her oxygen machine and her tv.  Six months.

It sounds like a long time.  But it feels like it was just yesterday.

I am lonely without her.  I have lots of friends.  I have my family.  But no one can fill the void that she has left.  She was the only person I actually talked to on the phone on a regular basis.  We talked almost everyday.  She used to annoy the hell out of me when she would call me, then have me wait while she finished a conversation with someone she was with, or a bank teller, or order in a drive thru.  I'd wonder why she didn't just wait to finish and THEN call me.  And of course I'd wait on hold forever if it meant I got to talk to her just one more time.

Today I sat in my car and listened to some of her favorite songs.  The Judds.  Eric Clapton.  I closed my eyes a conjured up the sound of her voice.  I thought about how much she would be hurting to know how much I am hurting.  How she always wanted to take my pain away.

I found this old photo of the two of us.  She was beautiful.  Even Drew thought so.  He asked who it was and I said, "Me and Gammy".  He said, "My Gammy???  She looks so pretty!"  Of course, he followed up with, "And you look pretty too... 'cept, I didn't know you was a boy baby"  Oh what I would give to tell my mom that story.  She would have laughed so hard, she loved that boy.  (all of them of course)

I love you mom.  I miss you everyday.  One day I will see you again.  I hope you are watching over us and seeing your boys grow, and you know all the stories that I can't tell you.