Toot Toot (the sound of my own horn)

 When I started this blog it was August 2016 and I was trying to figure out to how move forward from a time when my child had been mistreated abused for months by his daycare provider and I, a single mom, chose to quit my job and stay home with him.

Today it is June of 2025 and let me say: time flies whether you are having fun or not!

That 3 and a half year old little boy who was hurt and had huge trust issues and a penchant for striking out when scared (or running away) has become a 13 year old man-child, who excels at Karate, at musical instruments, who loves nature camp, who has a PLAN for high school and dual enrollment at WPI and a goal of attending MIT.  He has friends, teachers who value him, supportive and encouraging adults that show up for him, he can have a hard conversation and can stand up for himself.  He can mow a lawn, do laundry, clean a bathroom, and cook a meal.  He is ok. I repeat: He is OK. 

I had help of course - therapists and sacrifices and prayer, my friends who listened and loved, and his never faltering big sis - but I did it.  There were dicey moments, scary moments, so much worry and doubt and fear and some of that was recent but... he is ok, and I did that. I've had 6 different jobs since then, working around his needs, but I did it.  I kept us in our same apartment, kept him in the same school district, kept him with the same friends he's known since kindergarten, prioritized a routine to see his father regularly and include his father in every big moment, taught him to love and care for pets, encouraged his older siblings to stay close, and gave him every opportunity to explore his interests and to meet his needs.  I'm tooting my own horn cuz baby? No one else is gonna do it.

In the grand scheme of all that is 'life', there will be mountains to climb and valleys to traverse, and therapists to see still... but what was a terrified and locked down challenge of a hurt small boy has become an evolving and open and forward thinking young man... with a loving and dedicated and consistent momma.  

And now maybe it's time to approach life in the way everyday normal people do: with trepidation and caution and openness and hope instead of sweat and tears and painfully considered double guessed  choices.  Maybe now we can just... live?  No, not "maybe now" but... Now.  Now we can just go out there and live without a shadow over us, without over thinking and doubt and second guesses.  Because he is ok... He is OK... and I did that.  I made him ok after all.

This past weekend we went on a scenic train ride.  We rode outbound on a track to a specific stop, the engine unhooked, moved around or 'switched' position, rehooked, and we came back the same way we had come.  The scenery was different on the way back, the way the air came into the windows and ruffled our hair was different.  The sound of the train horn was different because all of it came from a different position, even though we traveled the same exact track.  Same train, same seats, same track, different view.  Toot Toot...

Listen; life is hard.  The challenges we face are different for each of us and the way we approach and overcome those challenges is going to be different.  Same train, same seats, same track, different view.  Toot your own horn when you need to.  Congratulate yourself.  Appreciate yourself and your efforts.  You did good... toot toot!

Full of Light

It's Sunday night and I watch Grey's Anatomy with my daughter and we don't care at all about the Superbowl.  We watch Grey's.  We love it.  And tonight my heart cracks wide open and I bury my face in the blanket on my lap and I weep, all because of yesterday.

It was Saturday night and it went like this:

I'm off tomorrow, after 11 days in a row, and so tonight feels like a celebration for G and I.  There is dinner in front of the TV - and a rented movie from Amazon Prime - and there are brownies AND ice cream AND chips. I am indulgent and catering to his whims.  When our movie is almost over, there is the ultimate finale:  "hey G", I say.  "I don't have to get up early for work tomorrow, do you want to have a sleep over in my bed?" He hoots with joy while kicking his little bare feet and pumping his little fists into the air. He crows, "This is the BEST night EVER!"  I agree with my whole heart.

We are snuggled up in my bed.  The heated mattress pads are on, we are in flannels and reclining on an over abundance of pillows.  The down comforter and heavy quilt feel safe and cozy.  I check some last minute emails in the glow of the reading light.  G says, out of the blue, "how old would your momma be now if she were alive?"  We've talked about this in the past.  He has grandparents from his father and sees them often enough to have a relationship and connection. Both of my parents are long gone, as well as my stepfather.  His only connection to 'grandparents' is his fathers parents whom he sees once every few months.

 "She would be, um, 76 I think?" I am bad at math and try to calculate as quick as I can - he is amazing at math and I don't feel up to the shame of being wrong right now.  He thinks for a minute and then says, "But how old was she when she died?"  In the back of my mind I understand that he is asking about my age, and death, and my longevity but my mouth just blurts out the answer, "She was 52", before I can fully grasp that A) he is good at math and B) I am 49. 

"Ohhhh..." he says in a whisperish voice (as much as a wild monkey of a 6 yr old boy can whisper) "52?  That's so sad momma, 52 just isn't enough!"

*crickets*

"Yeah, buddy, I know... it wasn't enough...but don't worry, I'm strong and healthy and I'll be here for a long long time!"  I lie.  Who knows?  I mean... really.  Who knows?

I am crying, again, as I type this.

He is so right.  52 was not enough.  Not for her, for her husband, not for me or my brothers, or for HER brothers, not for her mother, or for the grandchildren she knew - nor for the ones she never met.  It wasn't enough.  Not even close.  I cried while hugging my lanky, toothless, 6 year old elbow-ey little boy - the one who never met my momma (who would have LOVED him!) and he hugged me back.

Tonight,because of last night; while watching Greys Anatomy with my 21 year old daughter (who also never met my momma, her grammy, who would have loved her immeasurably) my heart broke along some fault line that was created some 24 years ago and it remains a little wider tonight, a little more crumbly and unstable, and so surprisingly that I'm unable to go for more than 5 minutes without it pinching and hurting me.

I don't know what it's like to lose a child - a piece of you that has grown under your heart and within your body - I don't know what it's like to lose the partner you've chosen to share your life with and have memories and growth with - I don't know what it's like to lose a sibling - a cell compatible bond and the one you share childhood experiences and the shaping of your adultness with - but losing the ones who created you?  The one who birthed you from their own body, the ones who nurtured and protected and rejoiced in you?  The ones who know who you are, who you were, who you COULD be?  I've lost those... I know that pain...and that emptiness...and that really fucking sucks.

Grey's Anatomy didn't break me tonight - it just reminded me where I was already broken.  Broken in the way that lets light shine in and illuminate me so that I shine brighter, so that I can shine on someone else who needs some light.  I might have buried my face in a blanket and hid for a moment tonight, but tomorrow I will remember to shine in all my broken emptiness and to be a vessel of hope and brilliance that can light the way for someone else.

Thank you Grey's Anatomy.  Thank you momma.  Thank you daddy.  Thank you Mike. I am full of light because of you.

August again; 1 year later

Last year I was just turning in my badge at work, cleaning off my desk, and preparing to leave my full time job to stay home with G after what had been a very hard year for him.

The past 12 months have been filled with journeys and travels I never planned on or prepared for, some I didn't even know I was taking until I'd come back, changed by the entire experience.  G has traveled his own path as well, with tremendous growth.  This past year has allowed both of us to leave behind the anxiety and insecurities we brought into it.  We both are more settled, calmer at our core, and stronger.  Sitting down to write this feels less like chalking up another month gone by, and more like having a whole new blog to write.  There is excitement ahead for both of us and I fully intend for both of us to embrace all of it.

Today I registered the Gman for Kindergarten.  It was a hard decision for me to make and I fretted over it for months.  Having just turned 5, I could have held him back for a year to let him grow into himself a little more.  He still struggles with good social skills among his peers but this boy is also reading, doing math, and his busy busy brain is bored.  I can't really teach him the social skills he will learn in school, and the child wants desperately to go.  So he'll go.  Today we drove to his school, a place where he has gone to play in the playground and to ride his bike around the walkways and has some familiarity with.  He was so excited, and yes, nervous too.  It felt very anticlimactic to me, personally, after all the worrying I'd done.  We walked in, met the principal, handed over our paperwork, and that was it.  Done.  G skipped back to the car, buckled up his own car seat straps, and chatted all the way home like he usually does.  It felt so normal.  That is the life we are excited to have - normal.

I had a hard adjustment coming back from Hawaii.  It wasn't just the post-vacation blues, it was more. I was heartbroken, and missing my family. The time that I'd spent with my brothers, my nephew, and some old friends, had made me so acutely aware of what I was missing in my life.  It also made me equally aware of what my future was looking like and how much I did not enjoy the view.  I felt very unbalanced, very lonely, and shaken to the core with all the uncertainties I was facing in my life. It took some hard work with a great therapist, and I'm pretty sure I caused more than one of my friends to actually roll their eyes by the time I worked through a lot of old trauma as well as a whole new crop of fears, but I did it.  I came through a really broken heart and fearful spirit to find a new path for myself.  A journey that I am choosing deliberately.

There will always be sadness when I look back at my past, and letting go of hope leaves a discomfort that I'd rather not experience, but none of it has the power to stop me from making a future and being hopeful, unless I let it.  I'm not willing to let it derail me though.  I can have both: I can feel sad, and I can feel happy and hopeful.  It is, as usual, about balance.

It was a long year.  A year of battling demons and I wouldn't trade the demons we battled because the lessons we learned were worth it.  Just the same?  I'm glad to close the door on the past 12 months, and grateful to fling open the door and welcome in everything that the next 12 months will bring.  I can't wait to write about it!

May: month 9/10ish, a trip to Hawaii, and everything we learned...

We took a trip, my little buddy and I, to visit family and to take a little retreat from our daily life and celebrate how far we've come over the past year.  We escaped to paradise for two full weeks...Oahu to be exact.  Two weeks in the sun and surf, where we woke up every day to throw on bathing suits and sunscreen and do whatever we wanted on our own timeline.  Adventure after adventure combined with long lazy hours playing in warm sand and letting the ocean scrub our souls and renew us.  Sun to warm our cold New England bones and give us a healthy glow to our skin.  It was just as glorious as it sounds and I took a lifetimes worth of photos.  We've only been home for 4 days but I can't stop looking over the pictures and dreaming about going back as soon as possible.  It might have to be a yearly event!  Watching G find the freedom and joy in such unstructured time refreshing.  There were some interesting life lessons for both of us in our trip though.  The universe likes to keep things in balance as I have come to firmly believe and this trip was no different.

One thing I learned was that I am only as alone in my single-parenthood as I make myself.  I do not have the luxury of being surrounded by family but on our vacation I had the extra support of my older brother and my adult nephew as well as a couple of friends.  None of whom have any experience with young children. It was interesting to see how these people interacted with G and how they navigated all their own boundaries and expectations with him.  I felt overwhelmed at times, trying so hard to make sure my wild little guy behaved appropriately and respected other people and property, teaching him what it meant to be a guest somewhere and how to balance our "relaxation" with being in someone else's house and in their space; but seeing other people play with him in ways I never do and see him figure out how to engage in it and learn new ways of relating to others was a really cool experience for me as a parent.  There were times I let down my guard a little, and times I overprotected and 'helicoptered' but I did get to see that it's ok for me to not manage every experience he has with other people, especially family and he learned that not every person is going to baby him and cater to him the way I have the tendency to do, and that it isn't a bad thing!

We had the unique opportunity to experience some good old fashioned emergency room drama also which allowed me to remember how to see the positive in any situation and to remind myself that I can be calm in a crisis and that while I am remarkably strong and independent it was a really good feeling to have my big brother join me at the hospital and to know I wasn't alone!  G had the misfortune to fall while we were at the airport, just prior to boarding for our return home - and he broke his arm which got us an ambulance ride to the hospital (our first ever) and we missed our flight and had to rebook it for the following day. The entire situation was a very neatly wrapped package of the universe showing off it's intention for balance!  From start to finish, every negative moment was precisely off set by another positive moment to the point that there was almost no moment in time where I felt panic or dread or worry... just amazing gratitude and peace. * As I am typing these very words, I am reminded to seek out the balance in another personal issue in my life that is causing me some heartache.  The balance will be there, I just need to be aware of it and acknowledge it's presence. Thanks for the reminder!*

This isn't to say the entire trip was a nirvana of goodness - let me be real with you!  I am an average working single mom who traveled 5000 miles with a very average and energetic almost 5 year old!  We experienced boredom and crankiness, time change adjustments and picky eating, we had broken rules and consequences to sort out in an unfamiliar environment (and in public) while we were overtired and stressed.  We had a budget we had to readjust due to lack of experience with traveling and some unexpected expenses.  We had RAIN!  There were moments when G's behavior pushed every button I had and drove me to the very brink of my patience, a time when my brother had to step in and get all up in G's face to reprimand him, a time when I cried... but there was never a time that made me wish we weren't on this amazing trip.

I think we are moving on from the trauma that set us on this journey a year and a half ago.  G still talks about his experiences at daycare, saying "one school was mean to me and the other school I was kind of mean to them!" and those words are wholly his that he has chosen to use.  We talk about how he wasn't "mean" but that he didn't feel safe and was trying to protect himself the only way a 3 and a 1/2 year old can.  We talk about how he is safe now, and ways to keep himself safe or out of dangerous situations and how he can now tell me if he isn't safe and that I will fix it.  We talk about how when he goes to school in the fall he will need to listen to his teachers and that sometimes you have to follow rules that you don't like to follow but no one gets to hit anyone else just because they don't like the rules and that applies for adults AND children. He has learned how to give an apology that is sincere.  He has been to gymnastics class and learned that even when you don't follow directions, adults don't hit you (but that mom gets really disappointed and gives consequences!)  He's been to the doctor (and the emergency room!) and experienced his own capacity for calming himself and that discomfort doesn't mean you aren't safe.  He'll go to day camp this summer and work on some social skills.  My G is impulsive, but he's also creative and smart and thinks a gazillion miles a minute.  I have a feeling that making friends is going to be challenging for him at times but I trust in the balance of this universe and that his natural kindness and humor will draw the right kinds of friends into his life.  I've been worried about sending him to Kindergarten this year and am closer to making the decision to send him.  This trip showed me a lot of his strengths and also a lot of my own. I'm hopeful about what lies ahead of us both!

December 28; Five Months In

My desire to "save" my son from the damages done by one of his caregivers was the driving force in my decision to quit my full time benefited job and stay home with him.  It was the only choice I could see given his behaviors and how little time remained before he started Kindergarden.

It has been 5 months of challenges for both of us, and for other family members as well.  There has been so much learning and growth happening within our hearts and souls that the two of us are surely different now than we were before.  I suppose you could say that of any person after 5 months, whether they made a major life change or not - life has a way of growing and changing people regardless of their choices! - but the ways in which both G and I have had to adapt and adjust have been infinitely full of growth.

November brought a new part time position for me that took me out of the house more than I wanted during the time I was orienting/training.  The necessity of income chased me through the days and evenings I was gone.  Then suddenly there was Thanksgiving. I tried to slow our race through December but then we traveled 3000 miles to a family reunion which was an amazing time, and of course there was Christmas and Santa and now?  Now is the time to regroup, re assess, and plan for more changes.

G has responded so well to being home with me now.  He still is pretty resistant to any other person trying to correct his behaviors, to put it in a respectful tone.  In other words, he digs in his heels and lashes out at most any other person, still trying to be the boss of every situation and always on guard against being hurt by an adult.  I wonder if that is something I can ever help him navigate with more grace.  He likes to be boss with me too, but has become more willing to be my friendly, cooperative helper on a regular basis.  His trust in me is growing bigger and deeper all the time.  He was a wonderful travel companion on our flights to California; funny and cheerful and curious, as well as respectful and charming to other passengers.  Maybe that is just the nature of a 4 year old...

He has had some issues with breathing/asthma as the fall progressed, as is typical of him and I imagine we will have to deal with this long term.  That will be the least of our worries!

I know at times G feels the need to play with other children, but overall it is still a difficult time for him when he does.  His bossiness and easily overstimulated temperament can make a situation very UNfun for all of us.  I'm still trying to sort out the way to meet his needs in this as well as create successful interactions for him.

Right now we are saying goodbye to the holidays and heading in to the endless dreariness of a cold New England winter so I plan on making "successful kid-interactions" a work in progress.  There are a lot of indoor play places we can go to for "practice".

One thing I've discovered that took me by surprise, is that in "saving Griffin", I have unexpectedly saved myself.  My own heart has been healed by being home with him, and with the opportunity to spend more time with my 19 yr old daughter, and has shown me that in this change, all of our family has had the opportunity for growth and learning.  The universe continues to fill our lives with instances of hope, kindness, generosity, and love.  I am grateful, more and more, for this life.

October 17th; Week 11 - Balance and Hope

The fall weather in New England is really indescribable.  No picture I could ever take, and even the most professional photos that I've seen, can ever show the true glory of it.  Much like the time I stood at the edge of a cliff on the Pacific Coast and watched a wave surging over rocky outcroppings over and over - and I cried at the amazing beauty of it... fall in New England awes me.  Every day is different, the colors can change depending upon the sun and the cloud cover and what you see can be different from hour to hour.  And all of it is a metaphor explaining the way I see my son.  He is, in essence, fall in New England.

I was reading a book about parenting the Spirited Child (along with books about the Strong Willed child and the Sensitive Child, and the Explosive Child - do you see a theme here?) and while all of those words are easily applied to Griffin, they are not meant to be negative descriptions at all.  They certainly can be viewed as negative, but looked at in a different light - perhaps with a little less cloud cover maybe? - they are words conveying strength, power, intuition, and energy.  When I choose to look at G's actions in a positive light, I see so much more joy and potential than when I am seeing him through tired, worried, self-judging eyes.

I have had three friends impart a little of their perspective recently and it is interesting that as I look back on those moments of hearing their thoughts that the one friend whose comment was negative left me feeling beaten down and responsible for my sons energy - and the two perspectives that were positive allowed me the room to step back and see that G is such an amazing kid and I am, in fact, doing a really good job right here, right now, in this moment.  Could I do better? Sure, I mean, can't we all?  But once again I return to the absolute certainty that my journey here is about balance - and in the big picture, Griff and I are together creating a balance for him.

We are gearing up for Halloween.  Costumes, candy, the excitement... craft projects (which never go well when you mix an energetic and quick thinking four year old with a hot glue gun and a multi-step process!) and leaf collecting, apple picking, pumpkin decorating and the most perfect weather ever have made the past couple of weeks mostly about fun.  Seeing all of the things I love viewed through Griffins joyful brown eyes is just more evidence to my soul of the goodness of the universe, the love of God for me and my family, and the balance of it all brings me hope.  Hope may not be the feeling most people associate with fall, it may be surprising to hear that emotion linked to falling leaves and shorter days but that is yet another thing I've learned from Griffin:  expectations aren't for us, everything is surprising, and hope is alive.