Wasn't it just yesterday...

I wrote this awhile ago and never posted it, I don't know why.  But thinking of my mom today because my timehop today was a picture of her and the boys.  I would give anything to be able to call her today.

My mother wrote a poem for me when I was moving out of the house for the first time.  I was angry at her for being so upset.  She didn't want me to go, and I desperately wanted my freedom.

This is what she wrote:

When they placed you in my arms,
What a precious baby girl.
I counted fingers and toes to see just how perfect you were.
I had never loved so much.

Wasn't it just yesterday
When your first step was your greatest accomplishment?
You are one of my greatest accomplishments.

Wasn't it just yesterday
When I could kiss all your pain away?
I held on to you when you were scared.
I guess I'm holding on now because I'm scared

Wasn't it just yesterday
You were walking slowly down that school hall?
I knew then how hard it would be to let you walk too far away from me.

Wasn't it just yesterday
You were crying on my shoulder?
"Mom, why does it hurt so bad?"
I could feel my heart break with each tear that fell

Wasn't it just yesterday
I kept you from playing in the street?
from climbing that big tree?
from scraping a knee?
Oh how I want to keep you safe now.

Wasn't it just yesterday
When your mommy was your world?
When I could do no wrong in those precious eyes of yours

Wasn't it just yesterday
When I dreamed of your future?
Graduation, wedding day and the day they place her in your arms.

Wasn't it just yesterday
when you held me so dear?
I was going to be the best mom ever
when you would cry if I wasn't near?
I was going to be your best friend
I was going to be it all for you

Wasn't it just yesterday
When you grabbed my hand and said, "Mommy, let's go!"
It WAS yesterday when you said, "Mom, let go!"
One day you will understand, why I still hold your hand.

What a beautiful baby you were,
What a beautiful lady you are becoming.
How proud I am of you, and all you are, and all you do.
How much longer will you be home with me, before your life will be without me

Hold my hand just a little longer!  Don't let go!

I love you,
Mom
aka mommy.

Vacationing with kids...

My husband and I had an argument the first time we took our kids on a vacation.  He said when you have kids with you, it's a "trip", not a "vacation" because you don't get a break from life, because you still have the kids.  I disagreed and said it was still a vacation because there is joy in seeing your kids experience things.

I'll never forget when he saw chris's joy at jumping  through the waves in the ocean.  My husband turned to me and said, "It's a vacation"

This week, I bravely took my three boys to Chattanooga for 4 days. (btw, it was one day too long).

Was it a trip?  or a vacation?

I'd have to say... a little bit of both.  There were plenty of times when I thought something along the lines of, "What in the name of sweet baby Jesus was I thinking bringing these little brats here, by myself,for 4 days?!?!?!"

And there were times that I saw the joy they were experiencing and I was so glad we came.  Times when they were so sweet to each other.  Times when they said "thank you for this trip".  Times when we giggled over what will surely be jokes for a long time. (like Drew mistakenly calling the gnomes at rock city zombies or ninjas)

These are the moments that will be remembered.  I will forget that Drew got 4 spankings today.  That he threw such a fit while I was on the phone, I had to hang up and make the call later.  That Chris picked on Luke, and Luke was dramatic about everything.  That Luke and Drew were tired of walking.  That Drew begged to go to the pool, and then immediately decided he didn't want to swim when we got there.

I'll just remember the fun, and the three of them giggling over some video game in the bed next to mine.  Now that I think of it, it sounds like a vacation after all.

Friends...

I've posted before about my girlfriends and how much they mean to me.  But I'm going to again because this is my blog and I do what I want.

When I started working at my first job 17 (!!!!) years ago, I didn't have girlfriends.  I mean, I had girls who were my friends, who I talked to and hung out with, but not true girlfriends.  I had guy friends.  Not. the. same.

About 15 years ago, I made friends with 3 of the best girls.   We became close very quickly, and if you had told me we would still be friends now, I would have
said, "duh".

But our friendships haven't always been solid.  I was the first to pull away. Unexpected pregnancy.  Unexpected marriage.  Instead of leaning on them, I pulled away.  I felt different, out of their circle.  They lived on the other end of town. I was tired.  We drifted.

But the beauty of it all is that when I showed up, crying on a doorstep years later, I was met with open arms.

Each of these girls have other sets of super close girlfriends.  I have other friends (some I would love to be closer to, but... life) but none like them.  They mean the world to me.

The things we have been through.  Pregnancy.  Marriage.  Divorce.  Breakups.  Health scares.  Deaths. Things I can't even mention here.

And they show up. They drive for hours to help each other move.  They bring food and wine.  They plant gardens and come to funerals.  They listen.  and read (texts).  They agonize over decisions, and support
even when they disagree.

I think of all the things we still have to go through, and I am blessed to know I have them. I am just as excited to grow old with them as I am to grow old with my husband. I may not speak to them daily  or even weekly, but they are only a doorstep away.


*Update: I went back a read my last post about my friends.  almost exactly the same.  oh well, I love my bitches.

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.