I tried

I tried, I really did. I tried to let go of his little hand and let him be the big boy that he wants to be. I tried, though every part of me wanted to hold on. I tried to tell myself that it will be ok, he is a very smart kid and he knows what to do. I drilled and drilled him the night before and made him tell me step by step what to do. I tried to be ready.
He got on the bus fine, though I'm not sure what took him so long to go all the way in the back. He smiled and waved and was so excited that I forgot how nervous I was for that brief moment. He was so happy. He was on that bus. He was a big kid and he was doing it alone.
For most children, this would be fine. It's everyday thing that no one thinks twice about; but, not Mikey. From the moment he was born, I have never been able to let him out of my sight. It's not by my choice either. With my daughter, I never had to worry where she was. I knew. Right underneath me. When it came to Mikey, the moment I blinked, he was gone and someone was bringing him to me before I even realized he was gone.
I remember before he was born I always wondered how someone could lose a child, then God showed me and put me in my place. When one as a child like Mikey, it's very easy to lose a child. We have lost him several times. He wanders and wanders and wanders. He had to go get him from ski school because he kept wandering. He does it so quietly and quickly that sometimes we don't notice until he is almost outside the building with the van keys because he wants to go home. He has been doing this since he could walk and the last four years have been one long lookout post. It's so bad, that whenever we are out, what one would hear the most from us is, "Where is Mikey"? Not only does he wander, but he loves people and isn't even remotely scared of strangers. We could have harnessed with him on a leash, but we didn't want to do that. He would have outsmarted us on that one by wiggling out of it and hooking it onto something, anyways. In our mind, he needed to learn to stay near us. It is such a conundrum with him. He is a very smart child, yet he just gets so lost in his mind. He is now in Kindergarten, and his teacher was so amazed about how much he knew. He knows things that his sister didn't even know until second or third grade. He can tell me every street from home, to the gym, to the school and to Daddy's work, and yet he gets lost getting off the bus and has to be led to the door 30 feet away. Thank goodness for one of Shelby's friends who saw that he was lost and helped him.
He can be so sensitive to his environment and yet not care. He has been at school for a week and him and the time out chair have become buddies. He sits there, though, like its a reward. I asked him today why he went to the chair. He answered because the bugs that they were playing with at school bothered him. I asked him if they bothered any of the other children. Nope, just him. So he decided that since they bothered him, he was done with them and the chair was a much better alternative. Then I informed him that sometimes he doesn't have a choice. He then informed me that yes, he does. This I don't understand. He does get frustrated really easily and his motor skills have not caught up with his brain, but really? The chair is preferable that playing with toys? Who is this kid?
However, all this isn't as bad as the getting lost in his mind and wandering. It's like he just starts thinking about something and just totally forgets about his surroundings, and we have to go find him before that stranger does.
I tried today, I truly did. Thirty feet, that is all he had to go to get to his teacher, and he didn't make it. I'm not ready to let go of his sweet little hand. I'm not ready, and maybe he isn't either. Next week, I will just drive him in on Choir mornings. If it wasn't for the five mile walk with my friend today, I would have been a nervous wreck; and now I know why. Maybe next year, but as for this one, I'm still holding on.


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And to begin

So the truth must be said. Something profound changed me and I have been slowly coming to terms with it in the past year. It has been putting my writing on hold and, I think, my life as well. I never realized how one person, only known for such a short time, could make such an impact. It's been a year, and though I am far from the only one healing, I am quite surprised on how hard the healing process as been.

I started my life moving moving two weeks after I was born, and it hasn't slowed down since. At least it's not I
in a laundry basket anymore. With the all the moving and galloping around the globe, I have learned to meet new people, make some friends and enjoy where I was planted at the time. It's very rare that a friendships stays with me when I move on. I can count those friends on one hand, and they are friends so dear to me. I have also lost friends who are spreading their wings and flying wherever they please. As a matter of fact, I was going to write about how my birthday usually falls on Memorial Day. I started realizing that I was celebrating my birthday by remembering my friends who have moved on to greener pastures. I began to love this time. The warm memories making me smile, and the my heart feeling full. Then it happened, another friend takes the final dive, and my heart just broke. I was truly struck by how much of an impact her passing had.

She was a quiet person, who when she felt comfortable around you, kept you rolling in the aisles from her very sarcastic humor. She generally kept to herself, and as I do the same thing, we really didn't see much of each other the first year we knew each other. Our daughters became best friends, and slowly we both came out of our shells. I was blessed to take a trip with her and two other friends to Poland one weekend. That's when I truly got to know her. What a woman! She could make you laugh and cry within the same five minutes. It generally takes me a long time to truly connect to people, and with her, and it was no exception. However, when that time came, I was ever so grateful. I would be on vacation, then all of a sudden, there was would be an email from her asking how it was going, and if the cherry red van was doing well. She always commented on that van. No idea why. As our friendship grew, then phone calls just to say hi, and if I had any gossip, knowing I never had any. She liked her soaps, and I liked my old shows. We both liked to eat and shop, though she could not understand how I could not make meatloaf. She was a terrific cook. We both went crazy if our houses weren't clean. She always had a bowl of candy in her hallway. I only found out after my daughter fessed up. I hardly have candy in my house. She loved fresh flowers. I tend to kill any kind of botany. Our Polish Queen. We both loved our wine.

Then she got sick. I only really knew her for a year. One year out of 38. Such a minuscule amount of time. She got sick and never really recovered. She thought she would finally die from eating to much McDonalds,, not from what seemed to be perfectly healthy lungs. She tried, we hoped, but in the end, it was too strong. I beautiful person is now a glorious angel.

I remember getting the news. We were moving from Kansas to Colorado, and had a great day with my family at the Cosmosphere. About to put the kids to bed and check Facebook. There it was. I think I made some phone calls to confirm, I don't remember. I remember one phone call I had to make, it was the hardest one I ever made. I remember a good friend doing the same for me when one of our friends was killed. I was not going to let the the third amigo know from reading it on posts. I hated making this call as I knew it was in the middle of the night and I knew she would not be able to go back to sleep. We both just cried and hung up. I cried all the way on the long stretch of I 70. I know she cried all day as well. Neither of us could make it to her funeral. Probably her closest friends while In Germany, and neither of us could be there. All I could do was make a toast in the sunset and say good-by. I felt so much guilt after that for not being able to say goodbye and being there for her funeral. After that, I couldn't write anymore. Though, she would probably hit me over the head for it.

So here it goes. The healing has begun and the guilt is slowly receding. Our daughters still talk, and we even got to see her kids this summer. I miss her, and I always will, but life must continue on. Her family is extremely strong, and I am amazed how how much they have grown and healed.

As for me, I am truly blessed that she called me her friend. I'll catch you later, Pal.
Ps- we traded in the red van, and I was sad to see it go, only because her her. Maybe she would like my shiny blue van.

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Test

I have been reminded that it has been a year since my last blog, here is a test. I guess I didn't think anyone was really interested in the opinions and remarks of just another mom, but it seems that there is interest out there. Well, alright then. Here I go. However, before I start, let's see if I can even post this. Here is a test.


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Rantings from the apartment.

That is exactly what it is. It has been a long week in the four walls we call our dwellings. We have been sick all with both vomiting and head colds. My son peed in the middle of JCPenny's, and all over this apartment My daughter has just been Shelby, who is eight trying to be 18 but acts more like her brothers. Then there is the littlest one that shared both a fever and a head cold with me. It's the summer, there is no park right here and friends for the kids to play with. School doesn't start for another two weeks. We have to go to Barns and Nobles just to get some decent WiFi and we are watching TV with an antennae. The kids are driving me crazy and they aren't very fond of me right now. We are all getting on each others nerve. If I hear someone else tell me to enjoy every minute of my children's existence because it goes so fast, I will give my kids nothing but caffeine and sugar and hand them over for a week. I could use the quiet. I firmly believe that people, in general, are not to be enjoyed every minute of the day, so why should we expect any different from children? There are good days and bad days. After a horrible week, Friday came around, and we actually had fun. We enjoyed each others company then. Don't get me wrong, I am very blessed that I have three, healthy, and dare I say, wonderful children. I feel blessed that I am here to hug them when they need it, scold them when needed, and to help them be the individuals that they truly are; but, I got to tell you, it is the hardest thing I have ever done. The rewards, or the failures, won't even be seen in it's true form until many years later. Though, I have see peeks of sunshine through the clouds. I will never complain about staying at home and being here for my little ones; there are little ones that have lost so unexpectedly, but I would love five minutes just to hear the a short interview on the radio or even make a phone call. Truth be told, I would love to have my mind back again. I just got to ask, "Mick, where is my little helper?". I know my husband mentioned taking our daughter out for a movie when we finally get a babysitter and that time for me won't come until we move into the house. It seems as if he had not been listening No, I didn't shoot him, but he sure knew I was not happy with his comments. The point to this whole rant is that the last thing any parent wants to hear after a hard week, none the less a hard summer, is to enjoy every minute, because that just doesn't exists. I'll enjoy it more once my son uses the toilet instead of the floor and when finds a bucket when needed. If you really want to encourage that parent who has lost their self and is on the brink of a primal scream, acknowledged that parenthood is harder than anything imaginable, if done right, but always remember to love them. Then if you can, give that parent a hug. Trust me, they can use one, too Then at that moment when all them are cuddling with you, take that moment to enjoy it. For the single parents, God Bless you. You must do as one, with what is easier with two. Until then, I'm counting down the days until the start of school and counting my blessings. Until then, my glass of wine is waiting for me.
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So to write.....

I found it so easy to put words on paper for this simple blog before I decided that this was officially the next avenue I would take. Now I stare at this blank, stark white screen and wonder " What to write?" what do I write about? Are people really all that interested in what I have to say? Is what I say really all that clever?
I sat in my first Write Brain meeting of the Pikes Peak Writers association the other week. Though I had an immense amount of fun, I felt as if there was ten feet between the top of my head and the surface of the water. I truly felt out of my league. They were talking about writing books and plotting and characters, and the such. Of the 'such', I have none. I'm a blogger. I don't even know why I blog, but I do enjoy it. Though I need to do more, ALOT more. Will I ever right a book? Probably not. I am definitely more of the humorous genre in writing. I love reading this columns in the paper and the books they come out with later. It's short, to the point, and well, funny. That's pretty much all I have time for these days, anyways.
I now feel that there is a reason that we are here. Ok, we did beg for this assignment, but I truly believe that God has granted it to us. On the way here, I lost a very dear friend of mine. My heart broke and I felt further away than I have ever before. At that point, all creativity in me was buried. It did not lie among the weeds for long. My first friend that I met here was at a knitting group, who turns out will be a published author and introduced me to this entire writers world here in the Springs. We were meeting to knit, but those needles never came out of our bags. Instead we sat and talked, laughed and had a wonderful time talking about writing. Jo, if that was you, thank you. My heart warms at just the thought of it. Turns out, she started writing late in life, and made sure that I knew 38 was not to old. I, in-turn, convinced her to let me read one of her unpublished novels. ( which, by the way, is very entertaining. Her main character's name, Shelby. If that ain't a sign). Even both our husbands are computer guys who love Apple. She has given me that nudge that says, "Go ahead. Leap. There is nothing to lose."
So, the question begs to be answered. The answer is, yes. I will continue with the writers meetings and I will continue to write. As a matter of fact, the next meeting is all about blogging. I will make a commitment to write at least once a week. Kinda like if I had a real job at a real newspaper ( or NPR, cause yes, I am that nerdy). For right now, this will be my venue, and you my audience. Are you ready to ride?


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Any Given Sunday

To the sounds of a baby yelling in the monitor is how I was awaken this morning at 0630.  As I slowly peel myself out of the bed to hit snooze on my natural alarm, I noticed how beautiful the morning was already.  My first thought was, at least the sun is out already, which meant that I got to sleep in a little later than usual.  My second thought brought to my attention of what day this really is.  Not only is it the start of football, but it's the 10th anniversary of 9/11.  One would have to be in a complete bomb shelter for a month not to know what this Sunday means to America.  My reflection was shortly interrupted by the squeals of my two older children coming down the stairs to say good morning and greet me with with hugs and smiles.  Soon I was feeding the youngest of my brew while the other two were snuggling on the couch watching Sunday Morning cartoons.  Eventually my husband came out to fetch the Sunday paper and sat down on the couch with me armed with the elixir of the day and a smile and a kiss to warm my heart.  There we were, Americans celebrating the very essence of what is to be American.

As we read the paper, a thought struck me about what today really means.  The sun was shining, the sky was blue and my family was just doing what we do any given Sunday this time of year.  We were enjoying each other, and well, waiting for Football to start.  All through the paper and all through the TV are stories and thoughts that will truly break the hardest of hearts.  Though my heart breaks every day for the loss so many suffered that day, I wonder if those lost would want us to respect this day through mourning, or celebrating who we are as Americans.   In places such as New Orleans, they celebrate the life of a lost one through parades and wonderful, lively wakes, instead of mourning through tears and seclusion. I believe they have something they we all should embrace.  Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying don't respect the lost of such a day and of those that gave so much to help others, but defy the acts of such horrible people whose true goal was to take away what we hold dear as Americans.  They wanted to take away our Freedom; but the truth is, though with many changes, we are still free.  We are rebuilding, we are still living.  We still have the freedom to make our own decision, whether bad or good.  Today my family still has the freedom to enjoy Sunday cartoons, drink coffee, read the Sunday paper and wait for 1200 (CET, of course) to kick off Sundays in the NFL.  What better way to celebrate us as Americans, than to enjoy a purely American past time with family.  TO tell the truth, after living all over the world and immersed in so many cultures, there is nothing like being an American, in America.  It is what my family, my husbands family, myself once, and my husband, who still wears the uniform, choses to do so as Americans.  We chose to be American.

So, on any Given Sunday, nothing in our schedule today would have changed.  However; it's these simple acts that spark a remembrance to all those lives lost on both that fateful day and the many years after.  I shall say a prayer to all those affected through the years, then turn around, hold on to my family and be thankful that I have the freedom to celebrate them.  We know what happened yesterday, so lets hold on to what we have today.  Shed a tear, dry it, then live the life we are given.  As for today, I shall put on my #40 Alsott jersey, eat food that is just not good for me, watch my team whop up on Detroit, and then later, walk to the park as a family and enjoy the valuable time we have.  How will you remember?  As for now, pre-game is on.  GO Bucs!!!!  Enjoy this very Given Sunday.

There goes my cub

Well, I did it.  I let my little Baby Cub walk to school all on her own and I stayed home.  Now before you laugh and go "Well, Mom, she is in second grade!", let me just say...have you met my daughter?  If there are tulips to pick, she will have a fist full.  Most of the time, she skips crossing the street watching the birdies fly by, not even hearing the car roaring towards her.  But, I did it.  I let her go.  Was I ready for it?  Are you kidding?  I was a nervous wreck until I picked her up that afternoon.   Which, by the way, she had so much fun walking to school, it's all she talked about on the way home.  I always knew that one day she would wave me off.  Still doesn't make me happy that it's already here.  I was hoping for a few more years.  I guess it comes with the sassy mouth and the "I can do it!" attitude.  It also comes with a long list of 'don't do's' and 'watch out out for this.'  Of course I always get back, "Moooommm, I know that..."  She has always been an independent child, but there are still moments of wanting her Mommy and Daddy.  She came down thirty minutes early this morning to cuddle with us while we watched the news.  Then at the magical hour of seven, up she goes.....Super Shelby.  Just like that...she's gone, my baby girl.  What am I going to do when she leaves the nest for good?  Probably hold onto the boys even harder and cry.
Watching my children grow is such a mixed blessing.  Yes, I am blessed that my children are here and healthy and that they have this wonderful opportunity to grow and live; however, there's the part of my that asks, "why does it has to happen so fast?"  Her growing independence does help me when it comes to the other two.  It lets me concentrate on them a little bit more.  I have to go through this two more times.  Though my little Monkey may be the one I really need to worry about.  But, for now that baby cub is calling for me.  Off to my Den...