In sweet remembrance...

Today was an incredibly emotional day for me. Like most every American, I roll over in bed and scroll Facebook for a few minutes. I may have read 4 posts before I saw the one that was clearly very sad news. While reading the comments my heart fell thru the boxes springs. I was so overwhelmed with sorrow for a family I barely knew. I grew up with the man, but his family I hadn't seen in years. Their little girl had passed away.

Yes, she had health issues. She'd had 2 heart transplants, but I didn't know all the details. What I did know is less than a month ago I was admiring the pictures of them on vacation, and then today she was gone.

The harsh reality of that started to rattle me. Truth be told, I cannot imagine what they are feeling right now. I don't want to. The thought of spending one day on this earth without one of my children is an unbearable thought to say the very least. The seconds seemed to drag on for minutes as the images flashed through my mind. Mother's aren't designed to bury their babies.

As the day went on, I shed more  than I believe to be normal, but I'm OK with that. I just kept looking at the pictures of my sweet tiny humans on my desk and thinking what in earth I'd  ever do. I'm very thankful that my children have always been relatively  healthy. The biggest decision I had to make was signing the forms to have a bone reset. And here this precious family was, having already had to make the choice of life or death for their child. They had to weigh quality of life, religious beliefs, family values, everything. Their worlds had been torn apart countless times. I felt guilty for ever complaining.

They crawled into bed that last evening with every intention of breakfast the next morning, thanksgiving this week, Christmas next month. They had a little girl, and I am certain they planned to always have her. But, instead they left a hospital without her. They'll have to pick out that tiny coffin. They'll listen to the hymns that will cut their souls in half. They'll hug countless people, hear thousands of times how sorry we all are, and listen to how she is resting at peace, but none of this will mend the pain. Not one condolence will bring back the regret of not reading one more bedtime story, or cuddling for 5 more minutes.

Lord, may we ever remember that life is fleeting. May we never take for granted the little things. Yes, we need to raise these precious things to be good humans, but every now and then may we splash in the puddles, get a little dirty, eat dessert first and camp out in the living room. May we hold them a little tighter, a few seconds longer, and be a tad softer. Lord, put your comforting hand in this family's life. Ease their suffering, I pray. Amen.

Memory Lane

I took a stroll down memory lane this week, and by stroll I mean I drove thru my home town. After nearly 15 years of being gone, so much has changed, and yet, so much is still exactly the same. Everybody still knows everybody. The square is still the center of everything, and it's still the kind of town every kid dies to get away from but ends up missing when they're gone.

The memories washed over me like a summer rain, while the emotions hit me like a hurricane. I remember growing up just waiting for the day to move away. Now as I sit in the suburbs and listen to the hustle and bustle around me, and I'd love nothing more than the house with 5 acres in the middle of nothing to call my home.

I miss the Friday night lights and low roar coming from the football stadium, waking up on Saturday morning to see which friend's house got toilet papered, running in to at least 3 people you know every where you went, watching the rows of corn as you drive past, and the dust rolling across the field as they harvest the crops.  All the things I despised then, but I'd love to have now.

My family stayed about 5 years after I left. The last real memory from there was my sweet tiny 2 year old girl running after my sister's van as they drove away for the last time. I've never cried so hard in my life. You'd have thought someone died. Looking back something did die that day; a past time, a life time, my childhood. It was all over. I've been back many times since that day, but that moment is forever stamps in time. That was when home moved away.

It's funny how all I wanted growing up was to get away. I'd give anything to go back now. Getting stuck behind a tractor wouldn't be so bothersome, because it's good to just slow down. This world is in such a hurry. We are all rushing to the next event. It was absolutely amazing to go somewhere, where time seemed to have stood still. I guess for years I've been searching for home, not realizing the people in that van were my home. The house we lived in still stands, but the structure hooks no value. Is the love we shared that cake its weight in gold.

The unwritten chapter of "what to expect..."

As I stared at my 1 day shy of 2 year old boy’s face this morning, I realized they left out a chapter of “what to expect when you’re expecting”, and they certainly left out a few of the toddler year version.  I think if they’d written these portions of the book, birth rates would plummet.

 
No one shares the real story until after you’ve had the baby.  That’s when they sit around sharing the horrors thru their eyes.  Up until then the worst thing anyone ever tells you is how far away from the hospital they were when they went into labor.  Trust me. Delivering the baby on the side of the freeway in the back of the van is miniscule on the grand scale of parenthood.  

This is where I will put the disclaimer in.  I will tell you this is not for the weak at heart.  This story is not for those on the fence about having kids, and it’s not for the dads why don’t want to remember. It’s a tad bit graphic, real, but still light hearted.  But I reiterate, it’s REAL.

Having children is a joyous event.  Not all women are maternal, but for me having kids made me feel complete, and I just wanted more.  Even now, as crazy as that sounds I would have another if possible. I love babies, it’s the attitude that follows I was ill prepared for.

We go through 9 months of misery, and yes, many will criticize me for saying that, but I hated every day I was pregnant.  From being sick, tired, nauseated, fat, miserable, irritable, cranky, ugly, having acne, weird cravings, gas, the whole nine yards, it was not fun for me.  They were each worth it, but I did not under any circumstances enjoy being pregnant.  What they failed to communicate was that that’s the easy part.  

They tell you in the book that you may have “a little extra weight” after delivering the baby, and “this goes away after a few weeks.”  Um, at what point do we decide to share with these ladies that this may never go away?!  First, it’s not a little extra weight.  It’s at least 10 pounds of what feels like loose, cookie dough coated in laundry soap jiggling in plastic wrap.  Veteran moms call this the jelly belly.  Second, you may very well have it 3 years down the road.  Just depends on if you work out. Or did your muscles split and you can’t work out without medical or surgical intervention?  

Child birth puts the “max” in maxi. No other time can I see a reason to wear a 6 inch wide by 30 inch long diaper with no straps, but we won’t go into the details there.  Just know it’s maximum discomfort.   

All of this I’m convinced is to prepare you mentally for the day when the terrible 2’s hit.  Yesterday all the preparation made sense.  Every struggle was getting me ready for this.

Imagine a little boy with bright blue eyes leaned over the arm of the chair staring at my drink.  He’d already drank his, and now he wanted mine. With each word there was a tiny hand that tapped my shoulder.

“Mum mum (tap) mum mum (tap) mum mum (tap) mum mum (tap) mum mum (tap)”

“Yes?”

“I want some.”

“No, you had yours. This is mine.”

“Whhhhyyyyyyy?”

“Well, because I said no.”

“Hmmmmmm….. mum mum (tap) mum mum (tap) mum mum (tap) mum mum (tap) mum mum (tap)”

“Whaaaaatt?!”

“I want some.”

“No, we just had this discussion. No.”

“But whhhhyyyyyyy?”

“Because I said so.”

And we began again.  This went on for several rounds, before I finally got up and left the room.  Kids are resilient, but no one tells you that you will have training before you get to the heavy weight rounds.  If these conversations didn’t happen, you’d snap the first time they threw themselves into the floor in the middle of the toy store and had a full out melt down.  You’d have a come apart as well. Instead, because you’ve prepared for this you gently grab your child’s arm, whisper his demise in his ear and pray he doesn’t call your bluff.

 
No one tells you that you will negotiate with terrorism for years. No one shares how your kids will beg for something and then have nothing to do with it once purchased. No one tells you about the naked Barbie phase of the toddler years.  Yes I said NAKED BARBIE PHASE.  It’s the time in life when your child must be accompanied into town with a naked Barbie, sometimes 3.  You’ve purchased tons of clothes, but none are ever found until years after the Barbie’s have disappeared.  Naked Barbie’s will haunt you in the bath tub, in your car, your yard, your bag, possibly your dreams.  There is the crayon in the pocket time as well.  Inevitably you will ruin an entire load of laundry, because you washed and subsequently dried a crayon.  You will wipe snot with your bare hand. You will accidentally stick your hand too far into the diaper and come up with “muddy” fingers.  There is vomit, urine, feces, ear wax, dead skin, finger nails, all this to deal with.  At least once a year your tiny human will  give you a near coronary experience by jumping off something too high, taking a massive tumble down a rigid and insurmountably hard surface, or ingesting a substance they should have known better than to touch but did it anyways.  

 
They’re kids. As I have stated before, they will take you to your breaking point.  It’s all a part of the process.  Once you reach the point when you can hear them cry and just nonchalantly turn and tend the mess, you’re not done.  You’ve just leveled up.  

When losing starts feeling like a win

We've all heard about Murphys law. If it can go wrong, it will. My life is a perfect example of that. I know I've touched on this before, but I'm going to do it again.

One of my best friends in this world always tells me "Liz I just don't understand how you do it. Your life is so hard!"

What's so hard about it? I mean aside from the obvious, I just couldn't figure it out....until I really started to think. Truth is, I have the worst luck. I promise, if I'm running late, every single light will be red.  We run out of groceries every time I have 4 cranky kids in the car on a Friday afternoon. My favorite wine will be sold out on the worst day of the week, because let's face it. Its only sold in 3 stores. Its the most expensive one, and no one has ever heard of it. Why wouldn't someone buy it in bulk?  That's when I started to get it.

There's another me out there that didn't hit that last red light...or ran it. And seeing that last bottle on the shelf was like a winning lottery ticket! She didn't have her kids with her today. She probably got into the store just before the rush hit. And she was WINNING today.

She didn't have a kid pitch a fit for the last yogurt this morning, when it was all she wanted for breakfast. She missed the client that cries every time they come into the office. To the rest of the world, it was just another day, but to her it was the best day. She had just enough hair spritz, just enough time to look great, just enough coffee to fill her cup, just the right fit in those new pants, just enough makeup to look perfect.  Yes, she ran out of all of these things, buy she had just enough for today, and missing the rush at the Walmart meant just enough time to replenish. On any other day, she's the biggest loser, but today she was winning.

For me, it wasn't that day. Ran out of coffee creamer yesterday, but I didn't remember it until after I made coffee. Had a kid refuse his breakfast because he wanted mine. He won. I went hungry. Every light was red. Every driver was slow. No one answered the phone. Everything got shuffled. Missed that goal by 1 sale. Walmart was jamming. Kids argued the entire way thru the store, and on the pasta aisle my 4 year old tossed all of my groceries into another persons cart while I was deciding on a sauce. (She probably questioned her sanity at the checkout, because she straight walked off with my crap) My 9 year old decided to play Tarzan at the register and nearly tore down the gum display. And the meltdown that came when the car seat that had been strapped in that same spot for a year, wasn't in his favorite seat was just exhausting. And the cherry on this peach of a day was our friend dropping by with a house warming gift.....that he drank without me.  Good thing I bought the $5 wine. After a while it went down pretty smooth. Just in time for me size 00 daughter to try on the dress I bought for me...and it fit her.

We celebrate the wins, because we are so used to losing.

The key

So, I work on insurance, and the question came up the other day of "who has a key to your house in the event of an emergency?" Well, as usual my mind began to wonder. Who does have a key? And what kind of emergency are we talking here? Like a I forgot to put diapers in the bag? I got locked out? Forgot to feed the dog? Hey can you check to see if my house is on fire? Like that wouldn't be obvious with the smoke rolling....

It was after questioning the reasoning that I started thinking of when folk did have keys, and I quickly realized why I haven't handed any out lately. 

In my apartment plenty of people had access. My sitter had a key so she could come and go. My best friend so she could borrow clothes or shower if she'd been out late. The maintenance staff also had one. What comes with a spare key tho? 

Well that my friends us the reason of this post. We are taught to give a key for emergencies, but in reality you're more likely to be walked in on while pooping by a friend than a tree falling in your living room. 

It happened so many times. Not the pooping part, but I swear there was an alert system that sent a signal every time I stepped in the shower. Her first day on the job, my sitter walked in on me. My only thoughts were "please don't quit!"  A few weeks later she did it again. And a few weeks after that, her boyfriend did. 

I can't think of a single instance where I had an emergency in need of someone going in while I was out. But if it were a contest to see how many times I could walk out of the shower as someone spontaneously opened the door, I'd totally win! 

Fake it till you make it

Tonight I experienced something I've read about and hoped for for years. Don't misunderstand, I know it was fake. I know you know it was fake. I know you know I knew it was fake, but I appreciated it none the less. 

We all read the stories about exes who get along for the sake of the kids. Up until tonight we were just not that family, but tonight we hit a milestone. We attended the same event. We sat at the same table. We shared a folder and exchanged the papers so that we each got to read the information. Nothing negative was shared. No ugliness peeking thru. I'll admit I had my reservations. I'm certain my distrust was obvious. I was quiet and wondered nonstop what I had missed. What was going on? Why were you being nice? And then I concluded, because they don't need to see it. These innocent teachers and parents weren't part of this. 

I have no idea what has been shared about me. I often wonder, but I can't focus on that. Tonight we were the blended family we have always supposed to be. For that, I can't be anything but thankful. I truly believe if our children had been present, they would've been proud. It would've been easy for them to shift between us and not feel conflicted. 

I heard you pause when you introduced me as "mom." I was grateful none the less, and I'm certain I was the only one who noticed. I stayed a little after the rest of the parents to ask if I could purchase an additional yearbook, but I did not explain why. I did not want to draw attention to our situation, but merely have a copy to enjoy. 

I've come to see the other side of parenting. The step side. It isn't always easy. There's an enormous amount of shoveling that goes into it. I appreciate the part you play in those tiny humans lives. While I don't agree with many things that have come to be, I haven't lost hope that we can level out. Somehow, I still believe we can all get along and perform our portions with as little impact on the kids as possible. It is possible. This evening was proof of that. 

I already said I knew you were faking. I know you don't like me. You know that is mutual, but we are capable of being civil. We most definitely can put our differences aside and love our babies to the fullest. We aren't family, but we are their family, and we can give them that normalcy. Thank you, for being civil. Thank you for not causing a scene, for making me feel a part of things again, and mostly for giving me hope for our future. So in the future, may we fake it till we make it. 

I may not need you, but I'll always want you here.

A year ago today, the man of my dreams walked thru my door. He was already in my life. He already had a place in my heart. He was my friend. We'd hung out before, watched football games, laughed with friends and even been on double dates. This meeting was different. We were both single for the first time in a while. I was hesitant to spend time together, because the opinions of others would be formed. We would inevitably get the reputation of something was going on before. 

We got the rep. We've endured the rumors. We've lost "friends" over our relationship,  and I use that term loosely. Of the many people who probably did have affairs before they got together, we truly didn't. We were just friends. 

Even after this night, we continued to be "just friends." We didn't hide, but we did attempt a low profile. The guilt ate at both of us. We nearly parted ways several times, something kept drawing us back in. It was as if the universe was reminding us how short this life is. Life is fleeting, and when you find the one who makes you laugh, willing to lose sleep, to put anything in the line, they're worth keeping. 

I'm so glad he walked in to my life, muddy boots and messy, he's worth it. We've had our ups and downs. We've had our trials. We've lost our way a time or two and questioned why we even try. We are polar opposites. We butt heads daily, but there's no one I'd rather share this life with than him. 

We are the 1% who cuddle all night long. I miss him instantly when he walks away. His happiness is more important than my own, and I believe the same applies on his part. I've said too many times to count, "I don't need him, but I want him here. I can live without him, but I don't want to." 

To his parents, thank you. You've done a wonderful job raising an amazing man. To those who've supported us whole heartedly, I love you. You are the ones who've seen the love we have and are willing to hold our hands. To those who let him go, thank you even more. The cracks you left in his broken heart are more room for me to fill. I'm sorry it didn't work out, but I'm so grateful for the opportunity to love him. To those who left the cracks on my heart, thank you for teaching me what real love was. And to my sweet boo boo bear, I love you. I'm so glad you chose me. Thank you for standing by my side and loving me in my lightest and darkest hours. You are my favorite human, my best friend, my shooting star, and a dream come true. 

The hardest job on earth...

Parenting is so hard.  There should be a book given to teenagers when they decide to be sexually active describing the career path they're about to take. I'll write the first page. 

"Parenting- always hiring. Everyone qualifies, although not all will be successful or reach the same gratification. Hours are long, actually never ending. Appreciation will take at least 20 years of excruciating labor, even then you may not ever see it. The stress, anxiety, fears, sleep deprivation and resentment will last for at least a decade. Bathing, toileting, sleeping, cooking, and pretty much every other activity will come with an audience and usually a dozen questions. You will sacrifice nearly every piece of who you are. You will say things you never imagine, like 'don't lick the shopping cart. We always wear pants in public. Please don't poop in the yard!'  You will laugh and be thankful for each and every day you experience these horrors, but I promise, you will question your sanity...daily. "

That about sums it up. We don't get paid. In fact, we shell out thousands of dollars for sports to sit in unbearable heat, gaining hideous tan lines, to shout at an umpire and have a kid who is embarrassed that you arrived. We car pool our tiny humans everywhere, just to have them ask you to drop them off around the corner so their friends don't see. We shell out a small fortune for an education to be told they've decided to take a semester off and bar tend. 

We are disappointed a billion times over, but not in our kids. We disappoint ourselves. We failed at teaching respect. We said just walking away was the better option to violence, and when that sweet baby gets bullied you contemplate if violence really was the answer. The first swear word spoken from innocent lips will take your soul across the hot coals of hell, and you will regret the parental temper tantrum. 

See parenting doesn't come with a manual. It does, but no one reads it. It's the oldest person sitting at Christmas dinner. They'll tell you, but you won't listen. We all learn the hard way, and we stretch our nerves, budget and yoga pants to the last possible thread. 

We love our tiny humans, but man we often wonder "what the hell were we thinking?!" You're never prepared to have kids. You don't have enough money, patience or space, but somehow we always make a little room. When they grow up we sit and marvel. Only when they have children do we see our success. 

You're not a victim, you're just looking for attention

I read an article yesterday that made me want to vomit!! I can't imagine the person who wrote it to be very "wide lensed." The level of self absorption was so intense, I just saw her as a narcasist. It was then I was reminded that most of the world is like this. 

Well in the words of Dolly Pardon, "get off the cross honey, somebody needs the wood!" 

Stop playing the victim!! It's not cute, and while everyone who needs their safe place may entertain you, those of us who understand cause and effect just simply don't give a hoot! 

Life is hard! Your life hasn't ended up the way it is because of everyone else. You made choices every step of the way. My life sucks sometimes. There are a million things I'd like to change, but wishing won't help it. You know what does? Getting off your keester and working for it!! You can pray all day long, but the good lord isn't just gonna hand you your dreams on a silver platter. Go after what you want. You don't work, neither does he. Your significant other's ex doesn't like you? Aww so sad. Maybe there's a reason. Just maybe while he was swooning you, he was also telling her they were working it out. Stranger things have happened. Maybe you're not a nice person. Again, stranger things have happened. If you're not making enough money, go get a second job. Ask for a raise. Work harder! 

It's not everyone else's fault that things go wrong. Make better choices. Accept the ones you've made, and change the ones you don't like.

No one is going to thank you for the basics. Hell, it's rare enough to get a thank you for going above and beyond. Be grateful if you get acknowledgement, but don't expect it. Get off your "poor pitiful me" kick and just be happy. The world isn't going to make your life easier. That's just not how it works. 

You can gravel in your misery, or you can choose to get over yourself and move on. For the love of sweet tea, get over yourself. Live your life. Be happy. Stop looking for approval, we are all just trying to make it here. Either get in the race or get out of the way. 

When life goes so wrong, but so right

Read the title. How is that even possible? 

I know it's been a minute since I've posted. My regular readers have been chomping at the bit to find out what's going on. I won't go into a lot of detail, I will say this. Life is going so good-and I mean really good but soooooo bad at the same time. 

I started a new career. I am madly in love with the sig. He's shown me that even tho it seems crazy, some people love you, even when you have nothing to offer them but your company. His family is just as amazing, and every time I'm certain I have fallen from grace, they accept my every flaw as just a part of me. Our tiny humans are finally getting a grip on our new routine, and they're all just incredible kids. We laugh. We play. We live a sweet life, and I have never been happier. 

On the flip side of that, I have never been more miserable. After 6 months of semi peace, suddenly I was arrested for a violation for a crime I didn't commit. I have never been more humiliated in my life. I've never been in trouble. I've never done anything remotely wrong, and yet there I was being shackled while my ex's wife stood taking pictures. My picture was plastered all over the Internet, but worse, I was arrested in front of my kids. Finally comes the 5 court dates in under 30 of the upcoming days. Not to mention, my tires were slashed while I was there. As I said a few years ago. Just when I thought I'd seen the depths of hell, he shows me a new level. 

Despite everything that has ensued, I continue to pray for them. I believe in forgiveness, because the good lord forgives me every day. Life gets crazy. Sometimes there aren't enough words to describe everything that's taking place, but we press on. I will continue moving forward. The past has to let go of me eventually right? And I'll forgive. But for the record, my forgiveness should not be mistaken for ignorance. I know the truth. It will find a way to the light. I will be redeemed and my good name cleared. Y'all pray for us.