On Thursday I try to think, to remember, to mark the moment... I ask myself, “when?”.
He coughs once on Monday. I think. In the afternoon? Maybe?
He coughs... was it twice? Three times? on Tuesday. I only ask myself because there isn’t anyone else to ask. Did I notice it then, or was it Wednesday before it caught my attention.
It’s Wednesday. Is that a wheeze? It simmers in my mind. He was at his dads for the weekend, did he cough then? Does he cough at night and I don’t know? Is he coughing at school? But yes, on Wednesday, he is definitely coughing. But is it WHEEZING? I’m not sure... there isn’t anyone else to listen.
Thursday I think “oh! That is a COUGH!” but it’s just...a little... once in a while. No, not a wheeze. I wonder... Am I making the right call? Should he go to school? Will this get worse? What should I do? I am alone - the only one to make a decision. I ramp up the elderberry syrup and the immune support tonic and I vow to do an early bedtime. After school he is out of sorts. He coughs. I worry. I forget he is supposed to go to his dads so I put him in a hot steamy bubbly bath and serve him an early dinner and make him drink a lot of water. When his dad shows up, I ask him to just come in, stay, play, and let me put the little guy to bed early. He agrees. I feed him too - an act of gratitude for the hassle free situation. I say, “I might keep him home from school tomorrow - I’m just not sure...” He says, “whatever, it’s up to you”. I am so alone in this. “Should I take him to the clinic tomorrow? I hate to pay that co-pay for no reason, but if he’s sick...?”
He says, “whatever...it’s up to you”. I sigh. It’s always up to me.
Every decision is mine. If it’s right - I win. If it’s wrong - I’m at fault. Forever and ever, amen.
It’s Friday. He slept well. Woke up early because his bed was wet. All that water I made him drink. My fault. I help him get dry and warm. He’s cheerful and...coughing. Wheezing with the cough. I put my ear to his chest, listen hard. Listen harder. Put my ear to his back. Listen hard. Listen harder. No wheeze - but that cough sounds...dangerous. And wheezy. He cries. It hurts to cough. Ok then - no school. My choice. Right or wrong, I’m all there is to make the choice so this is it. No school. I’m alone.
And we’ll go to the clinic. We just won’t...buy teacher gifts... because we’ll pay the copay. It’s fine. Is it wrong to hope he’s sick so I can justify the copay?
My god! What is wrong with me!
I’m so bad at this.
We go to the clinic.
Alone. 2 hours. Just me and him.
Doc says, “no fever, lungs sounds clear, but yeah the cough sounds bad so let’s X-ray just in case”. I agree. I could refuse... I could. It’s a choice - is it the right choice? Weigh out the risk/benefit. Alone.
I agree - let’s X-ray. My choice.
Pneumonia.
Right lobe pneumonia.
Antibiotics and nebulizer treatments.
What if I’d sent him to school?
What if I’d refused the X-ray?
What if...
this time I won. I made the right choices.
Alone. Just me.
My fault? My “win”?
Tonight creeps by. I set up the nebulizer and he breathes in the medicated steam. Later he coughs so much he vomits. He cries. He’s scared. He wants to sleep in my bed. I agree to that - but I would have made him do it anyway - I’m the only one to listen for him, to hear him, to be ready to help at 2am so yes, sleep in my bed buddy.
I’m so tired. It’s not that it’s hard, or work, but the worry of it all sucks away my energy like a dementor from Harry Potter. I’m wiped out. I can’t stop tho because... I’m alone. There’s only me. Me and him.
So we lay together, watching Cat In The Hat and with me listening to him cough...and wheeze, and me imagining his pneumonia growing. Alone.
Except I still have to go finish the laundry from his bedding and make up his bed... and find the basin we use for night time vomiting just in case... and do those dishes from dinner... alone.
Sometimes “alone” looks like bubble baths and painting my nails and watching trashy rom-com’s while eating bbq pringles. Sometimes “alone” looks like worry-wrinkles, and dark circles exhaustion, and getting up to refill the humidifier at midnight just moments after you finally fall asleep. Sometime “alone” looks like spending your last $5 on a discount paperback for fun, and sometimes “alone” looks like hoping $20 is enough gas to get to next payday because between clinic copayment and medication, that’s all there is. All the time though, “alone” looks like carrying it all inside and praying God hears you and sees you and somehow still, trusting that He does.
November 30, 2018
July 9, 2018
July 2018
Today was... a really, REALLY, shitty day.
I slept restlessly after forcing myself to turn off all electronics, lights, and sound at 10:30 pm, and then was up with the alarm at 3:45 am...because, well, WORK. That is, for all intents and purposes (or: intensive purposes; or: in tents and porpoises; if you are of those natures) a total of 5 hours and 15 minutes of actual sleep. Had I actually SLEPT, if you will. So, I maybe averaged a couple of solid hours somewhere in the middle and towards the end of all that.
When the alarm went off at 3:45 I was almost grateful for the permission to get up and out of bed. I started the day, before my feet hit the ground, thanking the universe for my job, for my physical ability to do it, for my mental ability to do it, for the sleep I got (such that it was) and beseeching the powers that be (yo God! Howya doin'??) to be with me in my day and to also be with my family, and #someonespecial. I did see a glorious sunrise on my drive into work and my heart was full. Cue the dope-slap upside my preshus lil' noggin...bless my heart!
I have a new job. Not news...but I am working a day shift, and a very EARLY day shift that is slightly outside of traditional shift hours: like all the truly imperative back door workers! I mean, do you think the actual doctors just show up at the hospital and then plan out who to operate on, who comes first, who has coverage, or who is first and who is last and who didn't show up and who showed up 2 hours early without insurance? Yeah... not a thing. So. My new job. Early. Important...ish. New skills, new management, new co workers, new...vibe. New...did I mention new management? Sigh.
It was a really, really, really shitty day. Some days are like that. Even in, oh... Canada. I mean, maybe... eh? I cried by 8:30 am; for the first time anyway. Oh Canada... do you cry that early too?
Tonight to soothe myself, I got my nails prettied up (cuz when work starts that early, you get OUT of work early also!) then picked up the babysitter (a very tolerant 13 year old whom I pay a kings ransom to) to relieve my underappreciated almost adult daughter (aka Hannah-the-Hero) and while Gman and Wonder-girl played, I made a trip to the local overpriced grocery store and got the fixin's for a special meal just for myself, and a frozen pizza for the short people. Short-er people. Just sayin'.
I sated myself on mozzarella, fresh basil, and my own homegrown tomatoes slathered in balsamic vinegar and a rich and tasty olive oil; and a deep, rich, velvety red wine blend. I ate and ate and... ate more. I licked my plate: no, really, I literally and actually and definitively "licked" my plate; because I was at home, bra-less, and in bare feet and cut off shorts... I mean, it seemed appropriate. But don't tell anyone cuz it might ruin my pristine image! And while I was at the store buying that mozzarella and the wine, I happened upon a discount florist table. *backstory ensues*
All my years in the past, all 40+++ ahem of them... I have killed, maimed, destroyed, and devastated every known houseplant. I have killed the unkillable. I have caused fatal damage to the hearty, to the tolerant, to the...yea even to the false and silk variety. I am ashamed. However, since my grand move of late to this odd second floor/attic level 2 story apartment, I have managed to not just keep, but cause to THRIVE, a handful of destitute and sad flora and fauna. No, I'm serious, all Orchids aside, it must be the exact placement of my dining room window whereupon a handful of previously decrepit (and now thriving) plantlings sit - because I am actually keeping foliage alive and even watching them GROW.
So tonight, in my despair, while mozzarella and wine purchases were happening, I also purchased a new bit of greenery. It was a slightly disheveled little wilty bit, with a tag declaring it was a "Prayer Plant". How could I resist? It was less than a gallon of milk, less even than the bit of Mozzarella I was splurging on. It was a Prayer Plant... was there any other logical option but "purchase"???
I bought it.
I named it.
It is, thus forth, "Lucy".
Oh right, did I mention we'd recently watched the Chronicles of Narnia? No? oh, huh, well... we did. And so... Lucy, Lucy the Valiant. Lucy, who wants to be beautiful and powerful... and actually IS although she just doesn't know it. So today, to offset the shittiness and general crapola, I am focusing on Lucy the Valiant, my newest resident and bit of joy...and my personal goal.
I am focusing on valiant-cy. Is that a word? I say it should be...valiancy. I will be valiant. I will be quiet and determined (although sometimes weepy!) and I will hold growth and joy in my heart. Well, as often as I can at least! And as I bid this shitty day goodbye, I remain steadfastly secure in my gratitude for my job, and for the side hustle that has me transcribing late into the night, and still asking for protection and blessings on my family and on #someonespecial, and trusting the universe (yo! God! you there?) to provide.
Lucy and I, and Gman and Wonder-girl, and Hannah-the-hero all wish you at least a moment of Valiancy, of truth, of bravery, of beauty and trust and glorious sunrise and tangy balsamic vinegar and sweet home grown tomato...of balance. Go... in peace, with God, in light, and in knowledge you are covered by Lucy's infinite love.
I slept restlessly after forcing myself to turn off all electronics, lights, and sound at 10:30 pm, and then was up with the alarm at 3:45 am...because, well, WORK. That is, for all intents and purposes (or: intensive purposes; or: in tents and porpoises; if you are of those natures) a total of 5 hours and 15 minutes of actual sleep. Had I actually SLEPT, if you will. So, I maybe averaged a couple of solid hours somewhere in the middle and towards the end of all that.
When the alarm went off at 3:45 I was almost grateful for the permission to get up and out of bed. I started the day, before my feet hit the ground, thanking the universe for my job, for my physical ability to do it, for my mental ability to do it, for the sleep I got (such that it was) and beseeching the powers that be (yo God! Howya doin'??) to be with me in my day and to also be with my family, and #someonespecial. I did see a glorious sunrise on my drive into work and my heart was full. Cue the dope-slap upside my preshus lil' noggin...bless my heart!
I have a new job. Not news...but I am working a day shift, and a very EARLY day shift that is slightly outside of traditional shift hours: like all the truly imperative back door workers! I mean, do you think the actual doctors just show up at the hospital and then plan out who to operate on, who comes first, who has coverage, or who is first and who is last and who didn't show up and who showed up 2 hours early without insurance? Yeah... not a thing. So. My new job. Early. Important...ish. New skills, new management, new co workers, new...vibe. New...did I mention new management? Sigh.
It was a really, really, really shitty day. Some days are like that. Even in, oh... Canada. I mean, maybe... eh? I cried by 8:30 am; for the first time anyway. Oh Canada... do you cry that early too?
Tonight to soothe myself, I got my nails prettied up (cuz when work starts that early, you get OUT of work early also!) then picked up the babysitter (a very tolerant 13 year old whom I pay a kings ransom to) to relieve my underappreciated almost adult daughter (aka Hannah-the-Hero) and while Gman and Wonder-girl played, I made a trip to the local overpriced grocery store and got the fixin's for a special meal just for myself, and a frozen pizza for the short people. Short-er people. Just sayin'.
I sated myself on mozzarella, fresh basil, and my own homegrown tomatoes slathered in balsamic vinegar and a rich and tasty olive oil; and a deep, rich, velvety red wine blend. I ate and ate and... ate more. I licked my plate: no, really, I literally and actually and definitively "licked" my plate; because I was at home, bra-less, and in bare feet and cut off shorts... I mean, it seemed appropriate. But don't tell anyone cuz it might ruin my pristine image! And while I was at the store buying that mozzarella and the wine, I happened upon a discount florist table. *backstory ensues*
All my years in the past, all 40+++ ahem of them... I have killed, maimed, destroyed, and devastated every known houseplant. I have killed the unkillable. I have caused fatal damage to the hearty, to the tolerant, to the...yea even to the false and silk variety. I am ashamed. However, since my grand move of late to this odd second floor/attic level 2 story apartment, I have managed to not just keep, but cause to THRIVE, a handful of destitute and sad flora and fauna. No, I'm serious, all Orchids aside, it must be the exact placement of my dining room window whereupon a handful of previously decrepit (and now thriving) plantlings sit - because I am actually keeping foliage alive and even watching them GROW.
So tonight, in my despair, while mozzarella and wine purchases were happening, I also purchased a new bit of greenery. It was a slightly disheveled little wilty bit, with a tag declaring it was a "Prayer Plant". How could I resist? It was less than a gallon of milk, less even than the bit of Mozzarella I was splurging on. It was a Prayer Plant... was there any other logical option but "purchase"???
I bought it.
I named it.
It is, thus forth, "Lucy".
Oh right, did I mention we'd recently watched the Chronicles of Narnia? No? oh, huh, well... we did. And so... Lucy, Lucy the Valiant. Lucy, who wants to be beautiful and powerful... and actually IS although she just doesn't know it. So today, to offset the shittiness and general crapola, I am focusing on Lucy the Valiant, my newest resident and bit of joy...and my personal goal.
I am focusing on valiant-cy. Is that a word? I say it should be...valiancy. I will be valiant. I will be quiet and determined (although sometimes weepy!) and I will hold growth and joy in my heart. Well, as often as I can at least! And as I bid this shitty day goodbye, I remain steadfastly secure in my gratitude for my job, and for the side hustle that has me transcribing late into the night, and still asking for protection and blessings on my family and on #someonespecial, and trusting the universe (yo! God! you there?) to provide.
Lucy and I, and Gman and Wonder-girl, and Hannah-the-hero all wish you at least a moment of Valiancy, of truth, of bravery, of beauty and trust and glorious sunrise and tangy balsamic vinegar and sweet home grown tomato...of balance. Go... in peace, with God, in light, and in knowledge you are covered by Lucy's infinite love.
May 18, 2018
Begin Again...
It has not been quite 2 years since I quit my job, a full time benefited job, to stay at home with a child that needed me. I did it without too much planning or thought; my son had been hurt and traumatized by a trusted adult and he needed saving. So I stepped out in trust and faith in this universe; and in a God I believe loves me and my son. I was a single mom, and yet I quit my job - to save my son.
The unique irony in all of it is that I was the one who needed saving just as much as he did, although I didn't quite know it in the moment. The universe however, in all its wild, weird, and wonderfully wise ways, allowed my son and I to save each other. We were also held, and held well, in the safety of love, friendship, connection, and salvation...and of course a little vacation in Hawaii!
We healed and grew. There were so many lessons about balance and about finding the calm in the center of chaos, and about perseverance and personal strength. Lessons of trust, and in leaning on others, about acceptance and forgiveness and adapting. Some lessons weren't so much fun to learn and I really hoped I wouldn't need a remedial lesson but God and the universe have decided otherwise.
During the first 12 months after I left my job, I pieced together a variety of opportunities for income. Private pay postpartum doula work, some nanny work, and per diem secretary work. I eventually took a regular secretarial position not quite 6 months ago and it's been a quiet relief; but things are turning out a little different than I had planned. Of course!
Working 4 to 5 nights a week leaves very little time to establish regular routines for meals, family time, and working through boundaries and setting traditions into play. Nor does it leave any time to cultivate my own self, something which I've begun to realize is a building block for creating a safe, strong, home. The job has been good for income, and has kept my little man out of childcare and allowed him to stay home with either his big sister or me, but it has become clear that another change is needed for the well being of all of us.
I find myself starting all over again, again. I have to step out again, in complete trust and faith, as I make another major change. My son needs me to be at home with him...again. This time, it's not just him though, it's my older daughter too. I have two children needing me home more, needing me home in the evenings for hot meals and dinner table connections, for story time and family game night. They need me home much more than we need the comfort of extra income. Truth be told? I'm pretty sure the kids I have that no longer live at home might still benefit from me being more available too. This might be saving an entire family all at once. So? So I will be leaving my current job and taking a new one that is less of everything: less income, less hours, less security, less flexibility...but allows me more time at home with the most important people in my life.
It's scary now. It was scary then, almost 2 years ago, but so urgent that fear didn't have a place. However, fear has become a close companion of mine these days. The past 6 months brought me some harder lessons about that and I got a little lost in the darkness of it. Now it feels like fear is consuming my decision making process across all areas of my life. To step outside of the safe place I've managed to create, even when it doesn't feel as safe as it used to, feels dangerous. It is a known safety, such as it is. But now? Now I have to embrace fear all over again, and trust in the unconfirmed intangibles. I am often full of fear and there is little room for trust it seems.
Fear is a very useful tool - it keeps us from repeating mistakes or getting into danger. I've come to put a lot of trust in fear. Then a friend told me that maybe it was time for me to, "consider being open to the possibility that fear doesn't have a place here".
I really dislike it when God and the universe use my friends against me! But I can see that this is a truth I need to own right now. Maybe my fear is not helpful at this time, in this place, and in so many ways. Perhaps my placing my trust in fear is the wrong place for it. I think, next to the lessons of balance that I've been privileged to learn, this lesson of not letting fear take footing where it is not needed is one of the grandest lessons of all.
So now I begin, again. With more balance, and a desire to remain open to possibility, and to get real about the validity of fear.
Hang on. This? This is going to be a wild ride!
The unique irony in all of it is that I was the one who needed saving just as much as he did, although I didn't quite know it in the moment. The universe however, in all its wild, weird, and wonderfully wise ways, allowed my son and I to save each other. We were also held, and held well, in the safety of love, friendship, connection, and salvation...and of course a little vacation in Hawaii!
We healed and grew. There were so many lessons about balance and about finding the calm in the center of chaos, and about perseverance and personal strength. Lessons of trust, and in leaning on others, about acceptance and forgiveness and adapting. Some lessons weren't so much fun to learn and I really hoped I wouldn't need a remedial lesson but God and the universe have decided otherwise.
During the first 12 months after I left my job, I pieced together a variety of opportunities for income. Private pay postpartum doula work, some nanny work, and per diem secretary work. I eventually took a regular secretarial position not quite 6 months ago and it's been a quiet relief; but things are turning out a little different than I had planned. Of course!
Working 4 to 5 nights a week leaves very little time to establish regular routines for meals, family time, and working through boundaries and setting traditions into play. Nor does it leave any time to cultivate my own self, something which I've begun to realize is a building block for creating a safe, strong, home. The job has been good for income, and has kept my little man out of childcare and allowed him to stay home with either his big sister or me, but it has become clear that another change is needed for the well being of all of us.
I find myself starting all over again, again. I have to step out again, in complete trust and faith, as I make another major change. My son needs me to be at home with him...again. This time, it's not just him though, it's my older daughter too. I have two children needing me home more, needing me home in the evenings for hot meals and dinner table connections, for story time and family game night. They need me home much more than we need the comfort of extra income. Truth be told? I'm pretty sure the kids I have that no longer live at home might still benefit from me being more available too. This might be saving an entire family all at once. So? So I will be leaving my current job and taking a new one that is less of everything: less income, less hours, less security, less flexibility...but allows me more time at home with the most important people in my life.
It's scary now. It was scary then, almost 2 years ago, but so urgent that fear didn't have a place. However, fear has become a close companion of mine these days. The past 6 months brought me some harder lessons about that and I got a little lost in the darkness of it. Now it feels like fear is consuming my decision making process across all areas of my life. To step outside of the safe place I've managed to create, even when it doesn't feel as safe as it used to, feels dangerous. It is a known safety, such as it is. But now? Now I have to embrace fear all over again, and trust in the unconfirmed intangibles. I am often full of fear and there is little room for trust it seems.
Fear is a very useful tool - it keeps us from repeating mistakes or getting into danger. I've come to put a lot of trust in fear. Then a friend told me that maybe it was time for me to, "consider being open to the possibility that fear doesn't have a place here".
I really dislike it when God and the universe use my friends against me! But I can see that this is a truth I need to own right now. Maybe my fear is not helpful at this time, in this place, and in so many ways. Perhaps my placing my trust in fear is the wrong place for it. I think, next to the lessons of balance that I've been privileged to learn, this lesson of not letting fear take footing where it is not needed is one of the grandest lessons of all.
So now I begin, again. With more balance, and a desire to remain open to possibility, and to get real about the validity of fear.
Hang on. This? This is going to be a wild ride!
April 1, 2018
Little Glimpses
Right after the new year I went through a challenging time. In a desperate moment, I reached out to my adult kids for connection. My Boston residing 22 year old son came with his sweetheart, no hesitation and no questions asked. They came on the train and stayed over night and we ate, we drank, we talked, we played games, and their compassionate and loving presence generally helped to ground me. My west coast residing 28 year old daughter talked me through weeks of endless nights over the phone, until she was on spring break from school and could fly out and visit. My 19 year old home-girl doled out hugs and amazingly sarcastic one-liners that made me smile even when I thought I never would again. My children became the solid foundation that anchored me and yet they gave me wings all at the same time. It was like parenting came full circle for a time. I saw that I did a pretty good job raising such caring people who know how to show up when showing up matters.
I lay in my bed (heated mattress pad, flannel sheets, down comforter, hello New England spring!) and I listen to the wild giggles pouring from the kitchen. It is music to me, a symphony filling every corner of this apartment with LIFE. My oldest daughter is home for the first time in two and a half years. 2.5. Yes, TWO years and SIX months; probably longer. I stopped counting after awhile... I saw her 15 months ago but it wasn't at 'home' and it was different. Now she is home. Just ask her little sister, or either of her little brothers - this is HOME with Chickadee here, bossing us all around and setting the rules and the limits. It is the BEST thing ever. The giggles of my girls together in the kitchen wash over me and fill up all the empty parts of my heart.
Now she's gone again, back to HER home which is 3000 miles away from my hug. The laughter of all my children together still lingers in my heart and fills it full.
It is Easter. I have celebrated the resurrection of Christ in so many different ways over the past years. I have celebrated with large family gatherings including cousins and board games; joined with friends from church in a pot luck style; eaten with just two of my children, lonely, in a restaurant... this year I even celebrated by being completely alone. It wasn't a bad thing - it was contemplative and restorative. I think that it might be one of the best ways I've spent the holiday, in all its intention, in my adult life. I spent it this way by choice though and maybe its that fact which made this day one of peace for me. It is a kind of peace I've been needing to feel.
The more holidays that I spend as a single adult, the more comfortable I am making choices that best suit ME. It is more in my nature to make everyone else feel happy, especially when I was actively parenting small children and trying to build traditions and memories, but as my children have become adults with all their own wants and choices, it seems easier now to place my own desires ahead of theirs. It makes me a different kind of parent for Griffin; and a better one I think. He'll see a more independent and strong woman as his mom and for him? For him I think that will ultimately serve his needs best as well. Funny how that works out in the end...by putting myself first, I become a better mom for this specific child at this specific time. Balance. Ah, there it is again.
It is spring, in spite of the frigid 30 degree weather and remnants of snow in patches on the ground. We move forward into the light, again, my little sidekick brown eyed boy and I. We move forward and I watch as my adult children do the same. We aren't together always, but we aren't truly alone either. We hold hands and we fall down and we help each other up and we find balance together; sometimes anchoring each other, and sometimes encouraging flight. The light is longer, brighter, and warmer as every day passes. It's good to know the dark days are fading away.
I lay in my bed (heated mattress pad, flannel sheets, down comforter, hello New England spring!) and I listen to the wild giggles pouring from the kitchen. It is music to me, a symphony filling every corner of this apartment with LIFE. My oldest daughter is home for the first time in two and a half years. 2.5. Yes, TWO years and SIX months; probably longer. I stopped counting after awhile... I saw her 15 months ago but it wasn't at 'home' and it was different. Now she is home. Just ask her little sister, or either of her little brothers - this is HOME with Chickadee here, bossing us all around and setting the rules and the limits. It is the BEST thing ever. The giggles of my girls together in the kitchen wash over me and fill up all the empty parts of my heart.
Now she's gone again, back to HER home which is 3000 miles away from my hug. The laughter of all my children together still lingers in my heart and fills it full.
It is Easter. I have celebrated the resurrection of Christ in so many different ways over the past years. I have celebrated with large family gatherings including cousins and board games; joined with friends from church in a pot luck style; eaten with just two of my children, lonely, in a restaurant... this year I even celebrated by being completely alone. It wasn't a bad thing - it was contemplative and restorative. I think that it might be one of the best ways I've spent the holiday, in all its intention, in my adult life. I spent it this way by choice though and maybe its that fact which made this day one of peace for me. It is a kind of peace I've been needing to feel.
The more holidays that I spend as a single adult, the more comfortable I am making choices that best suit ME. It is more in my nature to make everyone else feel happy, especially when I was actively parenting small children and trying to build traditions and memories, but as my children have become adults with all their own wants and choices, it seems easier now to place my own desires ahead of theirs. It makes me a different kind of parent for Griffin; and a better one I think. He'll see a more independent and strong woman as his mom and for him? For him I think that will ultimately serve his needs best as well. Funny how that works out in the end...by putting myself first, I become a better mom for this specific child at this specific time. Balance. Ah, there it is again.
It is spring, in spite of the frigid 30 degree weather and remnants of snow in patches on the ground. We move forward into the light, again, my little sidekick brown eyed boy and I. We move forward and I watch as my adult children do the same. We aren't together always, but we aren't truly alone either. We hold hands and we fall down and we help each other up and we find balance together; sometimes anchoring each other, and sometimes encouraging flight. The light is longer, brighter, and warmer as every day passes. It's good to know the dark days are fading away.
March 11, 2018
Settling
Its March now... every time I come to write an update, I find myself at a loss for words. I either don't know how to backtrack and fill in the details that matter, or I realize that there are so many things that have happened that I can't fit it into one post and I get overwhelmed. I guess the most important thing though is that our life has settled.
What a beautiful word that is! Settled. Two synonyms for settled are "adjusted" and "reconciled". I couldn't think of more fitting words.
Life, being what it is, is of course not stagnant or stationary. Changes are always happening as my kids grow and change, and even I can grow and change too, but things are a little sweeter and calmer and easier these days and for that, I am grateful.
I just signed G up for tee ball. He's doing so well now in school and I'm hopeful this will be one more way for him to develop his social skills further and find out that some grownups CAN be trusted... every positive exchange for him will build that trust and show him something kinder about life.
He lost his first tooth, navigated the occasional longer day at school including lunch in the cafeteria, experienced having to adapt to weather related unplanned no school days, vacation days with no vacation, homework, and the holy grail that is BOOK FAIR at school. We moved into our bigger apartment and he has his own bedroom for the first time. My little guy is... settled.
I'm no longer considering myself a stay at home mom however, but I am settling into this odd balance of working evenings so that I am home with G for breakfast, school, and lunch every day, and then he settles into the afternoon with his big sister. He is safe, and he is home, and all three of us are settled into this new balance.
Spring is approaching and I'm sure new changes will skew our settled, balanced, status but that's ok with me. I already know that next school year will see G in school full days and my goal is to switch to a day shift so I'm home every evening with him. In spite of the changes ahead, both the known and the unknown, I see the way the universe cycles through chaos and balance; I see how the more I hold on tight to fears and expectations, the longer it takes to work itself out. I'm not very good at letting go so its taking longer than I hoped to develop those skills, but I know I'll get there!
Here's to embracing change!
What a beautiful word that is! Settled. Two synonyms for settled are "adjusted" and "reconciled". I couldn't think of more fitting words.
Life, being what it is, is of course not stagnant or stationary. Changes are always happening as my kids grow and change, and even I can grow and change too, but things are a little sweeter and calmer and easier these days and for that, I am grateful.
I just signed G up for tee ball. He's doing so well now in school and I'm hopeful this will be one more way for him to develop his social skills further and find out that some grownups CAN be trusted... every positive exchange for him will build that trust and show him something kinder about life.
He lost his first tooth, navigated the occasional longer day at school including lunch in the cafeteria, experienced having to adapt to weather related unplanned no school days, vacation days with no vacation, homework, and the holy grail that is BOOK FAIR at school. We moved into our bigger apartment and he has his own bedroom for the first time. My little guy is... settled.
I'm no longer considering myself a stay at home mom however, but I am settling into this odd balance of working evenings so that I am home with G for breakfast, school, and lunch every day, and then he settles into the afternoon with his big sister. He is safe, and he is home, and all three of us are settled into this new balance.
Spring is approaching and I'm sure new changes will skew our settled, balanced, status but that's ok with me. I already know that next school year will see G in school full days and my goal is to switch to a day shift so I'm home every evening with him. In spite of the changes ahead, both the known and the unknown, I see the way the universe cycles through chaos and balance; I see how the more I hold on tight to fears and expectations, the longer it takes to work itself out. I'm not very good at letting go so its taking longer than I hoped to develop those skills, but I know I'll get there!
Here's to embracing change!
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