I Have A 10 Year Old.

one day….

i’m going to miss tucking in the stuffed animals that rolled out of bed in the night.

another of those everyday realizations.

a quiet moment, a wild week

 

 

it’s been awhile.

i don’t usually go this long without posting.

so long, my friend debbie emails me to say are you ok?

yes, debbie.  i am okay.

just tired.

again.

hit the wall. 

it’s been three years. you would think by  now i would be getting used to this.

but now the girls are getting older.  it seems they are getting their own ideas and opinions that we need to hash out.  it seems they are getting involved in more and more things.  it seems my time continues to shrink and shrink.  it seems that ten o’clock on Sunday night, still trying to finish up the weekend work comes too quickly and too often these days.  it seems i notice even more the absence of another adult in this house to turn to at any given point.

i’m whining and giving in to self-pity.  it happens on occassion.

but it will be okay.

and i will refocus and come back to take my own advice, enjoy everyday moments.

like right now.  little one is sick, a virus that makes her tired, miserable, rashy, but still cute as a button.  curled up next to me here in bed, with mama, her warm slightly feverish hand pulling mine around her to sleep.  ems is crashed out at the end of my bed convinced it’s unfair that her sister gets to sleep with me and not her.  so here in the midst of all the chaos, the overwhelming scheduling  and rescheduling  lies my peace, my moment.  my two girls with me in bed, fresh flannel sheets and string lullabies playing on the cd player.  it’s a comfort to them and it’s because of this situation that feels not quite so right to me on so many occassions that we have this ability to be three girls curled up comforted in the bed together.  even the oldest of girls here, finally after an insane week, finds a moment of comfort and peace.

it’s wordless wednesday, but i’ve been wordless here for a bit too long.

it’s spring break so there are no lunches to pack, there is no homework to be done for the next four or five days.  thank you for such relief.  this weekend there is much to celebrate.  the arrival of spring, new beginnings, my oldest turning 10 years old and my friend debbie’s wedding.  thank you debbie for taking a moment in all your wedding pre-production to make sure i was okay, and have a beautiful, beautiful day.  relish every moment of your new beginning and then take some time to rest.  from me to you, i am so appreciative that you have found your one.

now it’s up and drag my rear out of bed to start it all over again…….

still waiting.

why does it seem that spring is so reluctant to make  her entrance this year?

easter is late and just two weeks away.  most of the earth here is still brown, the days still damp and chilly.

i long for warmth and color.

spring seems perched on the edge, just peeking around the corner, making me wait.

i myself perched and ready.

ready to jump, but not quite there.

there are climbing lessons, i haven’t dared to officially sign up for, scared my time won’t come through.

there are photos, to be reproduced, ideas floating in my head to be sold.

there is a book in progress, waiting for me to sit down and add another 3,o00 words to what is there.

there is a man, right now in Tennessee, who feels like family, but who is just out of my reach.

sometimes the waiting is the hardest part, when you feel greatness around the corner.

in time.  time is a teacher.

telling me, this is a path, but one with a direction.

giving me just a taste to hold on to, and keeps me thinking forward.

growing up.

 

my girl is growing up.

she picks out her own clothes.  if i lay something out she puts it away.  it doesn’t always make sense, but she’s got her own style and as long as she’s respectable, i’m not going to pick a fight there.

she has perfected the eye roll, and the sarcastic head wobble.  i’ve perfected the phrase “stop being a smart-ass”.

last week she had issues with a friend at school.  another friend was excluded and she stepped in and got the cold shoulder from the other friend about it. it threw her for a loop.  i wasn’t ready for catty friends until middle school, but here we are in 4th grade.  she didn’t really talk to me about it.  she emailed her best friend.  her best friend from kindergarten.   i am so glad she has a best friend confidante.  then she talked to Ed.  that’s right, apparently friend issues fall into Ed territory.

this last week she has had a few questions about her physical self.  apparently, body issues fall into my territory, thank goodness.

she’ll be 10 in nineteen days.

i’ve heard the stories my sister has told of frantic mothers running into the library asking for books for their nine and ten year olds caught by surprise by puberty.  i was shocked.  i guess i shouldn’t be.

i’m not ready for her to grow up.

but i realize i cannot be caught unaware.  so today this book collection came for her.  i’m reading it tonight in preparation before i give it to her.  it appears to be a good one.  american girl really puts out some good stuff for this pre-teen set.  she already has one of the books on friendship,  of course, i always turn to a book.

my mother gave a us a book.   it taught us a lot.

apparently it taught my younger brother a lot too.  my mother claims it’s how he got all the girls, with all of that knowledge.

but about my first-born.  i remember how sad i was when she was no longer a baby, a toddler, a preschooler, a kindergartner.  i remember my mother telling me every stage is a good stage and that they grow and change and you find new things to love about them.

for the past couple years, i’ve been watching as Nancy’s girls are growing into adults, and am in awe of her relationship with them.

i hope to have that.

in the meantime, i will cherish everything about the growing wonder of this stage of her life.  even the eye-rolls that i recognize as my own.

and then we’ll deal with the really tough issues.

 

 

grow, be independant.

{found in the back of the car this morning}

what i have always wanted from day one for my girls was that they would grow up confident and secure in themselves.  i just believe that if i can give them the gift of  these two things they have a much better start and a less rocky path on their journeys.  as we ease into this middle section of their childhood i think hanging on to this wish is more important than ever.

**********

i want them to know who they are, but i want them to always accept their changing natures.

i want them to not need anyone to tell them they are beautiful to feel so.

 i want them to reach for dreams and be the person THEY want to be.

 i want them to know they can get there if they work and they stretch and believe.

i want them to not need a boy to be happy, but i want them to find one that makes them feel over the moon.

 i want them to have friends that make them smile and laugh, who are just enough like them to love and just different enough to inspire.

  i want them  to think and question what they are told and then decide for themselves.

 i want them to know that every person you meet in this life has a lesson waiting for you.

  i want them to feel angry and powerless about something and then use their voices to do something.

  i want them to find a spiritual practice they can believe in.

 i want them to take criticism, think about it, and then decide it’s worth.

 i want them to know it is okay to fail, get up, and try again. 

i want them to live, breathe, fail, succeed, think, dream, believe and

grow, always grow.

 

hating the house moms.

**disclaimer, after I wrote this post I took a hot bath and did a 30-minute yoga practice that inspired me to write a much more positive post.  I almost considered deleting this one, but decided it was a part of me, so look for the uplifting yoga post this weekend.

 

Not really.  I’m serious, I’m not a hater.  Okay, maybe just a little bit.  It’s nothing personal, trust me.  It’s not specifically  you that I dislike.  It’s not your hair or your personality, or your habits.  It’s just that you are there and I bet you are there with the kids.  And I bet you are not trying to cram bills and laundry and housecleaning and homework and dinner planning and photography and blogposts and a fifteen minute hot bath into one night or one weekend.

And I bet you would die to get out of the house right now.  Perhaps one of your little ones has been sick for four days and you would give anything just to run away and go to the grocery store, alone.  Or maybe your thinking, she has no idea,  she gets to have adult conversations, no one screaming “mama”  four hundred times a day.  I bet she actually gets to read on her lunch hour.  AND then she gets a paycheck.  Every two weeks.

It’s been a rough week.  Again, it seems.  Every week is hard and no amount of planning or organization can defeat the frustration or the tiredness.  No one said motherhood was easy.  No one said balancing work and home life would be easy and NO ONE said  running a house and a family alone would be easy.  I love Karelyn so very much more than life itself, but if someone would have made me pause and say “wait, before you add a second child to your almost two year old, you need to know you’ll be doing this alone in about four years”,  I might have rethought my position. (if you know me at all, you’ll say “she’s just tired” and know that I would not).

I know staying at home with your kids can be tough, but right now, I cannot help but think if I just had one month to  focus on house and home, my family and my art, goodness what could I accomplish?  What would my house look like?  What would I actually be able to remember on a day to day basis versus the flying in ten directions and saying a prayer we are remembering everything.  And this is with paper calendars and multitudes of lists and appointments scheduled in my cell phone.

Today, I had to have multiple reminders and I practically forgot one important thing.  I actually DID forget to reschedule Emily’s dentist appointment, but that wasn’t the important thing, that would be almost forgetting to call home and find out which house the girls would be at this afternoon when their grandmother on their father’s side picked them up tonight.  

Then there was the fundraiser.  I had to pick up the school fundraiser.  The only notification came as a recorded message last night.  Good thing I got the message, because as the fundraiser is frozen food, if it was not picked up by between 4pm and 6pm tonight then it was to be donated.  Are you serious?  This is the forgetful woman’s nightmare.  So I had it written on my calendar, my friend at work wrote it on a post it note and paperclipped it to my bag.  Then I scheduled it on my cell phone and let it beep to remind me every five minutes between the time we closed at work and the time I pulled into the school parking lot.

I planned on working out tonight (hahahahahahahha).  I just want to go curl up under a blanket and eat chocolate chip cookies.  I hid all my dirty pots and pans in the dishwasher and they might stay there until Friday night when this work week is over.   I’m going to ignore the cat litter box and the unswept floor and the hidden dishes and the broken closet door and go climb in a hot bath for a bit.

So I’m sorry.   To the class mother who knows every child in my daughter’s class who I never even knew your daughter was my daughter’s best friend when I met you at variety show tryouts.

I’m sorry, mother who is scrapbooking every moment of her child’s upbringing and creating cute slideshows to music.

I’m sorry, mother with the ability to actually carry a camera and complete a 365 project.

I’m sorry, mother about ready to publish your first book, that you worked diligently on while the children were at school or napping.

I’m sorry, mother who is posting daily Flickr photos of her everyday life full of cups of tea, or pretty flowers arranged neatly on a table or of kids eating homemade, nutritious lunches or creating amazing crafty projects from ordinary household items.

I don’t really hate you.  I’m just tired, and cold, and bitchy and lastly I’m just jealous.

How did you end up with my life?

Sometimes the one I ended up with seems ridiculously hard.

sleepovers make me want to cry

{my BAM, self portrait this week, between two worlds}

We had a sleepover this weekend.  The girls had their cousins come stay.  Their cousins from their father’s side.   I cannot explain about their father’s family here as it would take too many words.  They don’t see these cousins very often.  Things are distant at best on that side.  So time being what it is and schedules being what they are we don’t seem to find the time to get together, but every year at this time we do, every year in late January.  When the girls came I sat and talked with my old brother-in-law.  We caught up on our lives.  I was glad to report that life is going well for me.  That I am happy and that I am in love and that I am in the process of thinking about combining my life again with someone else and he, the brother of my old husband, was sincerely happy for me.  I miss these girls, my first nieces, both born within two months of each of my own daughters.  I remember being full and swollen, both my sister-in-law and I at the same time.  I remember joy as first one and then two and then three and four, made their ways into our lives  and I remember yearning for the feeling of family.  I remember holding these little babes as peanuts.  Now last night we did makeovers, rolled hair in curlers and  had dance parties in my living room, keeping it in check by punking out to Green Day.

Ed called.  The girls all took their turns talking to him on the laptop screen and then he watched them make me over, lipstick and blush and sparkly eyeshadow, so close but yet so far away.   We made bets on when they would go to sleep, me guessing around 12:30 or 1:00 a.m., him guessing closer to 2:00 a.m. and obviously even with no previous sleepover experience he was the better guesser because by 1:45 a.m. the little ones may have conked out, but the two older girls lay side by side in the covers talking quietly.  I remember those days.  I remember sleepovers and late nights and curling up next to a cousin or a friend and whispering those conversations you can’t whisper to your mother.  Telling them goodnight and heading to bed I had one last conversation with Ed, but I didn’t have much to say.   I always have so much to say to him and I felt guilty for keeping him tied to the laptop when he had a motorcycle to put back together instead of staring at the girl 2,000 miles away suffering with a weird twisted heart.

I think that maybe one day he may tire of my emotions. Of this up and down.  I don’t know sometimes what to think.  How my life keeps changing.  Most times I want to fast forward past all this tedious stuff, the long days and nights when we are apart.  I want to forego the questions of where and when and how we are going to pull our lives together and just be. I want to cast aside doubts that him coming here will ruin the life he loves so much out there or that my moving there will wreck my family who love me and who I love so much.

You cannot make time stay still. You cannot keep your babies young.  You cannot stop life from changing.  You cannot wish the miles to push together and you cannot ease a transition that is certain not to be easy.  Last night in a house that was  full I felt undeniably alone.  The realization that my children are growing and they will not always need me and the realization I have made everything about my life about them.  As much as I thought my life before would not change, or as much as I was pleased to see how I came into this life on my own, or as much as I believed in three girls taking on the world, I’ve finally gotten a taste of what it would feel like for us to be a real family, something I have always wanted  that has always seemed elusive.  So now it is taking everything I have to try to take this world of my past and this world of my future and try to make some sense of it.  To move past the uncertainty of the where’s and the when’s and the plans  because there will be no arrow in the sky or some figurehead to say, “you should do this”.

This is the hard stuff and it would be so much easier to do this wrapped up in his arms.  The problem is once I got there I might not be able to get back out because that is my safe zone. and that is why this is so hard.

hello today-i like you

 

 

 I liked today.

I knew going into it there would be no school and no work due to the snow.

The snow that I seem to like this year, who knew?

I liked having a lie in.

I liked tromping through it sometimes up to my hips.

I liked the way the cardinal feathers floated freely across the top skimming the crust.

I liked the way my body felt alive shoveling my grandparents sidewalk, warming me up so much that hat and gloves and almost coat came off.

I liked listening to my grandmother in her robe fussing at me to stop.

I liked hot homemade ham and bean soup for lunch.

I liked hours spent at the laptop working on a new idea I’m excited about.

I liked having this laptop.  I can work anywhere, my favorite perhaps my bed.

I liked drinking two and a half pots of tea a day.

I liked seeing real shadows falling across unmarked snow.

I liked seeing barn cats tenderly making their way.

I liked befuddled cattle not sure to brave the field, belly-deep in snow and buffalo that tear away and just go.

I liked an old husky dog that turns into a puppy outside.

I liked a boyfriend who called me at lunchtime just to hear my voice.

I liked little girls with pink cheeks and wild snowy hair.

I liked seeing little heads bobbing through the snow towards next door for a visit.

I liked knowing this day wasn’t planned so why not sit down to another cup of tea.

I liked listening to Ed and the girls Skyping on the computer and how he makes them giddy with laughter.

I liked reading the end of  The Wizard of Oz with Karelyn.

I liked a hot bath.

I liked clean, warm flannel sheets.

I liked Ed telling me eventually I will have to let him take care of me.

I liked how a good yoga routine and some deep breathing can help ease aches and pains.

I liked the quiet and the darkness.

I like life, on a day like this.

Just Now 12.5.10

Just now it has been too long since I have been here.  I have  been busy.

Just now happiness seems to have made an entrance into my life and made itself at home.

Just now my children are screaming like banshees upstairs, dressing for our annual trip to The Nutcracker.

Just now the wind is blowing a chill through everything around us.

Just now my Thanksgiving tableware is still on the kitchen table and the dining room table is covered in Christmas.

Just now I have the Pandora holiday station on.

Just now my heart is twelve times more full than it was six months ago.

Just now I realize again that I have the most amazing family ever.

Just now, my jeans, two sizes smaller than the beginning of the year are already falling off me.

Just now there are stuffed animals gathered around a game of LIFE in my living room waiting for the girls to return.

Just now, I am tired from talking until 1am on the phone, but thankful for cell phones and unlimited texting.

Just now, I realize I have been ignoring all of you, my friends.

Just now, I realize I haven’t typed here because I wasn’t sure what to say.

Just now, there will be four stockings here this year instead of three.

Just now, I realize this man who has walked into our lives and stolen all our hearts, will have to leave again after Christmas.

Just now, Colorado feels so far away.

Just now, I don’t care.  I’m happy to be in love.