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Day 13: I Cried While Watching Parenthood and I Don’t Even Have PMS

November 13, 2013 by Leave a Comment

In my ongoing quest to not need a crane to tear the roof off my house to lift me out, I remain committed to my daily (almost daily) workout routines. The weather is getting colder and my hip is acting elderly, so lately workouts have been 45 minutes of the Nike Training App while watching television – don’t judge, it works. I get moving and if I’m entertained, it’s easier for me to block out the fact that there are a stack of cupcake cookbooks on the table by the door and shreds of tug of war dog rope strewn across the floor.

I digress.

Last night, I took a break from watching HGTV during my workout and instead played an episode of Parenthood. I’d watched the first episode of the first season on Sunday afternoon, so it was time for episode two.

I might have cried.

More than once.

I cried for the parents coping with their son’s Aspergers diagnosis.

I got a little misty about the bitchy mom wars (stay at home versus work outside the home moms – my least favorite war. YUCK).

And I cried at the scene where Sarah is interviewing for a job. And then I cried when she didn’t get the job.

Perhaps it is because I’m also a Sarah who is job hunting. Or a single mom. Or because my hair will never look as good as Lauren Graham’s. But when she sat across from the interviewer, eyes welling with tears and almost pleadingly says, “I really want this job,” my heart damn near broke in half for her.

(Perhaps this is why I should stick to HGTV…)

—

I took my daughters to a local animal shelter the other day and we signed up to be foster dog-parents. It’s kind of cool, actually: you go to the shelter, pick out a dog, take it home for the weekend (they’ll even provide you with dog food). They only ask that you post to the shelter’s social media sites to let potential owners know about the dog – is it good with kids? Other animals? What’s its personality like?

I have no intention of getting another dog right now. I like our dog; he’s a good protector. I can’t afford another dog. I don’t want to spend what little free time I have vacuuming up dog hair from the inevitable black lab the girls would talk me into.

But, we have love to give. I think some of these dog weekends might be okay.

—

Already the cold weather is bringing me down. Yesterday was the first day this season where Reynaud’s turned my fingers white and made them ache. Got a long few months ahead of me.

—

It’s a bizarre moment when you see someone in a television show or a movie and that person is battling similar battles as you are. Not that you think you’re a special little snowflake (and by you, I mean me), but the feelings that you feel that isolate you,

i really want this job

and you realize that there’s nothing special about the way you’re feeling. There’s nothing new under the sun. Moms have struggled before you, moms will struggle along side you, and they’ll struggle long after your struggle is over.

You should probably stick to HGTV.

Filed Under: A Job Ain't Nothin' But Work, Mom Shtuff Tagged With: , , ,

Day 3: Sometimes I forget the internet has opinions

November 3, 2013 by Leave a Comment

“Life is composed of light and shadows, and we would be untruthful, insincere, and saccharine if we tried to pretend there were no shadows.”
– Walt Disney

Last night after I posted, I tweeted the link to my post on Twitter and someone (helloooo to you if you’re reading) tweeted back and said it sounded like “incipient depression.”

I was offended for about two seconds.

And then I remembered, “Oh yeah, Sarah, this is the internet.”

I know that if I write something and I put it out there, y’all are going to have opinions about some of it. In this sense, I’m lucky that I’m not a blogger who has some massive readership. I’ll take a handful of people rolling their eyes disapprovingly at me through their screens versus hundreds, or thousands. When I hit “Publish” I know that I’m opening myself up to that.

But.

There are shadows sometimes. And as our buddy Walt apparently said (according to a pin I saw on Pinterest this morning), pretending otherwise is not sincere.

There are peaks and valleys, shadows and light, hormonal times and less hormonal times. I take each day as it comes – and yes, some are better than others. Today was a little better than yesterday, but still with time change induced meltdowns and some exhaustion and an argument about brushing hair and being told that I am not in charge of everything, the President is in charge of everything (I wonder if I can get Barack Obama to tweet to me that he believes my kid should brush her hair and go to bed on time).

“Emotion is messy, contradictory…and true.”
– Nigella Lawson
(amazingly, as I was writing this post I saw a photograph Lotus had posted on Flickr with this quote as its caption. How appropriately fitting to this topic.)

I’m going to keep on being who I am and I’ll keep on writing about my days, and some days will be better than others, but I’ll be authentic because that matters. Will I love when the internet remarks about my state of mind? Well, probably not. But, you know… it happens. Well, it happened. Once. Let’s not make this a regular thing, y’all.

Being a single parent is hard. Job hunting is hard. Parenthood in general is hard. Life is hard. Not just for me, but for most people. And not all the time and not in all the ways but enough. No one wakes up and says, “Wheee. Job hunting is really fun and it’s great for my self worth and I really enjoy people not seeing the value in the work I do and the skills I bring to the proverbial table.” Most of us, when job hunting, hope to quickly pass through the hunting phase to the happily and gainfully employed phase. And when we don’t, it gets tiring. It wears you down.

That’s…to be expected, y’all.

I do my best to not dwell in negativity in life – because I do truly believe that it’s not good for me.

But sometimes you’ve gotta.

Sometimes it’s good to be upset.

(I’ve never thrown a hammer through a window.

But I’ve wanted to.)

Saying I was offended for two seconds and then writing 500 words about it seems contradictory but it’s actually true. Internet, I ain’t mad atcha. I’m just living life.

Filed Under: A Job Ain't Nothin' But Work, Mom Shtuff Tagged With:

Five Dollar Happiness Project

October 14, 2013 by Leave a Comment

Five Dollar Happiness Project

They say money can’t buy happiness. And frankly, I’ve never been a retail therapy type of girl, despite my mom teaching me at an early age: “When the going gets tough, the tough get shopping.”

Though I have always liked to splurge on little things (four dollar coffees, magazines, new books when the spirit moved me), I’ve never been great at spending money on myself, a habit that has served me particularly well now that I don’t have much to spend anyway. I am the one who can window shop to her heart’s delight and then wander around a store finding absolutely nothing when I happen to have a gift card or I’m on a mission to buy something.

I think, however, that just as all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy (it’s Jack, right?), all paying-the-bills and nothing-fun-at-all-whatsoever makes Sarah a cranky girl.

I absolutely 100% stress that I believe you should be responsible when  it comes to your finances – bills need to be paid, yo – but I also believe that sometimes you need a little bit of a treat. When every dollar you make is going towards expenses you have no control over (property taxes, anyone?), sometimes you just NEED a bit of sunshine.

I decided to try to buy some happiness – and gave myself a five dollar budget to do so.

Five bucks – it’s enough to buy a little treat, but certainly not enough to break the bank. The possibilities were plenty… and so I went to the place where EVERYONE can find something on which to spend five dollars:

Target.

Only… I couldn’t.

At one point while standing in line, I picked up an issue of Cooking Light magazine. I love this magazine – gorgeous pictures, somewhat healthy recipes – win! Except… I stood in line so long that I ended up putting the $4.99 magazine back on the rack and buying only the groceries in my cart (Side note: Hooray Target, for having the cheapest cereal).

Pfft. This was gonna be harder than I thought.

In fact, I even thought to myself, Nah. It’s just not happening. I’ve scrimped and saved for too long now and now I can’t even spend my money on stupid stuff anymore.

When you think about it – that’s really not a bad thing – but for the sake of this project, for buying some happy, well… you can see how it might be a deterrent.

Saturday morning, Chris was helping me hang this cool picture thingamabobber I bought at Ikea. By helping, I mean he was doing all the work and I was pointing to where I wanted it hung up. I’d bought it awhile ago with the intent to hang some of my photographs without needing to buy frames for everything.

It occurred to me that I could probably do something similar in the hallway to hang kid art and so later on that day, I went to the hardware store.

A little wandering, a little assistance from the people in the store, and I found just what I needed: a ball of twine and a pack of screw eyes and boom. Ready to roll.

I got home and picked where I wanted the first screw to go and put it into the wall. Super easy, it just twisted right in – no tools necessary. After the first screw was in, I measured from the floor to the screw to determine the height so I could keep it consistent. I also measured from the screw to the outside wall so I could somewhat center the second screw similarly. Once I put the second screw in, I knotted some twine through the first screw then pulled it tight to the second and knotted it there as well. (The twine will slacken a bit once you hang art on it, but I’m okay with that). I brushed a bit of Mod Podge over the knots to make sure they held a little better.

Boom. Done. It was that easy.

I already had clothespins on hand and I was pretty pleased – HAPPY, even – with the results of this project. If you wanted to up your clothespin game (as I might. someday), I can see that you could maybe paint them, toss some glitter on them, or even just cover them with duct tape or washi tape.

Anyway, for just under five dollars I have a cool way to hang up all of the many things my kids bring home and I’m pretty happy about it.

SO… the challenge, if you’re willing to accept it:

If you were going to attempt to see if money (even if only five dollars) can buy happiness, what would you buy?

Filed Under: Mom Shtuff Tagged With: , , ,

If You Give Your Child A Camera…

September 22, 2013 by 1 Comment

…she’ll probably want some new lenses to go with it.

Okay. I’m not actually going to carry that whole thing out. Mainly because I can’t. And mainly because I’m stuck at the thought of (gah) having to buy lenses that are (gah) not for me.

Ah, but I’ve gotten side tracked before I’ve even started.

As I wrapped up year five of my 365 Project and began year six, The Princess expressed interest in giving it a try as well. I hemmed and hawed for logistics reasons and then? I handed over my entry level DSLR, the one that had been gathering dust for over a year, and let her have at it.

I set her up with a computer and gave her a crash course in Lightroom. We set up a Flickr account and set that up with some pretty persnickety privacy settings. I taught her how to upload her pictures, how to do some basic edits, and then watched the Flickr stream to see when she posted.

And though the computer has since died already (on day three, because OF COURSE IT HAS), she has, without fail, spent a great deal of time each day with the camera and the result has been really cool to see.

I’ve always felt that one of the best ways to get to know me is to look at the photographs I take. In them, you can see the world through my eyes. See things how I see things. See the things that catch my eye, make me hold my breath. The things that inspire wonder, the things that make me laugh. Angles, colors, places, moments.

And that’s what the experience has been like for me to go through The Princess’s photographs. Often times I’m surprised to find that she’s drawn to the same things I am. Sometimes, I giggle at what catches her eye. Occasionally, she writes a caption that makes me giggle at her wit. That picture up there? That’s one of hers. I love it.

So many people have warned that I’m getting closer to those years when she may grow silent, push me away, where we might butt heads, argue. “Just you wait,” people have said, warning that girls and moms tend to get off-kilter during these years.

I hope that doesn’t turn out to be the case, but it’s another reason why I treasure that photography is something we share, that her images are something she is showing me. I am still a part of her world and I can see what she is seeing and it means a great deal to me to have that insight into the way she is seeing her world, to see the things that matter to her.

And I think it’d be the case regardless of which avenue she used to express her creativity – her words if she were a writer, brushstrokes if she were a painter…

I am grateful for the avenues she has to be creative, to be expressive, and to allow me a glimpse of the way she sees the world.

Filed Under: Mom Shtuff, Photography Tagged With: , ,

Thursday Ten: Waterlogged Edition

September 12, 2013 by 1 Comment

1. You know that feeling when you see a spot on your basement carpet and you think, “HUH. What’s that?” And then you realize it’s your footprint? And you realize it’s your footprint because your carpet is FULL OF WATER? There was a bit of panic-filled moments (minutes…hours…a day or so…) waiting to find out the cause (a broken valve) and waiting to find out if insurance will cover anything (they will!). Now I’m a bit more relaxed about it but seriously? ENOUGH WITH THE CHAOS.

2. I’m actually surprised insurance is covering anything but I figure I’ve lived here 11 years and I’ve never filed a claim. Maybe they figured they’d just give me this one. Like that time I spilled butter on my iPhone (long story) and the Apple store replaced it without any fuss.

3. And in news that doesn’t involve my house being broken or my wallet being empty… yesterday my sister and brother-in-law had their ultrasound and it’s a…BOY. Looking forward to the arrival of my nephew this winter and learning how to be as awesome an aunt to him as I am to his sister. {That might sound conceited but I’m a really great aunt, y’all.}
011 | 365

4. I kind of enjoy having a kid who bakes but I don’t enjoy the part where I forget that her monkey bread cupcakes spilled melted butter all over the bottom of the oven and I remember when a rush of black smoke starts billowing out of the oven into the kitchen. No fire, just stink. Sigh. I’ll add it to my list of things to clean.

5. Second week of school almost and I do believe we’re falling into a groove here.

6. #I #Don’t #Understand #People #That #Use #Hashtags #For #NonHashTaggy #Things

7. Something I’ve been curious about lately is – as an adult, what do you wish you had learned when you were younger? Think about it – and if you feel like sharing with me, toss me a comment. I’ll marinate on this one as well… there’s a post in the works here.

8. I mean it. There’s a post in the works that’s NOT a Thursday post. You would think with alllll this free time. But… nope.

9. It’s all fun and games until shuffle plays “Endless Love” and you get it stuck in your head for two days.

10. What I’m reading now? Talking to Girls About Duran Duran: One Young Man’s Quest for True Love and a Cooler Haircut by Rob Sheffield. He’s a good writer and I love the music-inspired memoir. And, no. I was never a Duran Duran fan. Not even a little.

Filed Under: Books and Stuff, Mom Shtuff, Thursday Ten

Thursday Ten: Another Summer Comes to an End Edition

August 29, 2013 by Leave a Comment

1. Usually by July, I’m ready to climb the walls crazy, ready for summer to be done. This summer flew by so much faster than that. Partly because of all the stuff going on, and partly because of the weird schedule the kids and I had – with them with their dad every other week, summer was measured in week-by-week chunks. My time with them, my time waiting for them to come home. Week by week, rather than day by day, and suddenly we’re looking at Labor Day weekend.

2. And with Labor Day and my part time schedule, I’m lookin’ at… a five day weekend. Five day weekends are decidedly less awesome with three day paychecks.

3. Open houses at the girls’ schools this week. Pumpkin is at the same school with a teacher that The Princess had years ago, and The Princess, well… we toured the MIDDLE SCHOOL, she practiced opening her locker, we met her teachers. It’s kind of exciting.

4. Less exciting? A middle school on a 90 degree day full of hundreds of smelly tweens and teens. Ooof. The smell was somethin’ awful. They should have been passing out deodorant at the door. (Also, parents? This is part of your job. No one really wants to tell their kid, “Hey you! You’ve got some wicked pit stench!” but sometimes you’ve just GOTTA. You can even say it nicer than that.)

5. I was watching an episode of some show on HGTV (I know, hold your look of surprise) and this couple was basing their decision on their dog’s opinion of the place. They’d go house hunting with their dog and make comments like, “He likes their front yard! That’s good!” or “Uh oh! The backyard is too small and he doesn’t like it!”  A couple of things. First, if I’m the one BUYING the house: I’m the one spending the money, I’m the one who chooses the house. Not my dog. My dog will just have to assume that I love him and wouldn’t move into a not good for dogs house. Secondly, if I was SELLING my house and people brought a dog through it? I’d be annoyed. They actually showed a shot of the dog jumping into someone’s swimming pool. I realize editing is some tricky stuff and it could very well be an authorized dog-in-pool event, however… WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE? Ahem.

6. I’m tired of hearing about Miley Cyrus. I’m also tired of the rebound complaining about Robin Thicke (“Oh, we all attacked Miley but we really should have been attacking Robin so we’re going to attack him now because she shouldn’t have done what she did but he’s a grown man and la la la la la…”). TO WHICH I SAY THIS: Miley Cyrus is not a role model for my kids. Neither is Robin Thicke. Odds are, if we had just left it alone after the VMAs had aired, a large percentage of the people who are actually talking about it would have NEVER KNOWN IT HAPPENED. I have the ability to change the channel if I don’t like what’s on television. I also choose what music I’m buying, and relatedly, where my dollars go. If I don’t dig what someone’s doing, they don’t get my money. Also? I’m really sick of seeing the pictures. Again: I’d have never seen them if people didn’t insist on posting and posting and posting. I wonder what percentage of these outraged people were a) actually watching the VMAs and b) would allow their kids to watch it.

7. Have I complained about the weather yet this week? UGH the humidity. Walking outside is like walking through pudding.

8. Breaking Bad, oh my goodness. {I may very well say that every week until the series wraps up because OH MY GOODNESS}

9. I don’t think I can truly let go of summer unless I find some fun ice cream parlor and having one delicious hand-dipped cone. Probably mint chip because I am a creature of habit.

10. I really meant to start reading more again.

Filed Under: Mom Shtuff, Thursday Ten

Happy Birthday Pumpkin: To My Daughter on Her 8th Birthday

July 27, 2013 by Leave a Comment

329 | 365

Dear Pumpkin,

I’ve spent a lot of time this week thinking about your letter for this year. Mostly because after so many years of writing letters for both you and your sister, I’m always wary that I’m going to repeat myself – that some day you’ll find yourself faced with years of these letters and you’re going to finish, look up at me and say, “Mom, REALLY? Did you have to mention every year how I’m such an awful sleeper?” (The answer is yes, yes I do.)

Pay attention to those reoccurrence, though, these things that I repeat year after year, for those will likely give you the truest window of memory, your childhood. How you have woken up painfully early nearly every day of your life from the day you were born.

And you were born at 5:53 in the morning, delivered by the family doctor I have been seeing since the day after your sister was born. From the time I woke up until the time you were born, less than a handful of hours passed. And so begin my life with you.

This has been…a year. You’ve grown in leaps and bounds and you are still very much my little girl all at the same time. You’re so very excited to finally get to ditch riding in the booster seat. Today we’ll go on a booster-seat-less ride somewhere, anywhere, so you can get the most immediate gratification from being eight.

Third grade is on the horizon after you breezed through second grade. Your teacher loved you this past year – which doesn’t surprise me much. She told me how kind you are, how you were friends with anyone, everyone. In a world where boys still have cooties, your teacher said you didn’t object if you happened to be paired with one for classwork. She commented on your heart and how sweet you were. Later in the year, she started to comment on how talkative you became. “It’s a good problem,” she said at our conferences. “I’d much rather report to parents that their child is too social than the opposite.”

You have had a tough time occasionally this year adapting to having two houses – “When I’m with dad, I miss you and the dog. When I’m with you, I miss dad.” I’m grateful for technology to bridge the distances in those moments. I am grateful for FaceTime and for your sister iMessaging me pictures of you both on Friday mornings when you’re with your daddy, because I miss our coffee and doughnuts tradition when you’re not here. Seeing your faces for a Friday morning picture makes it easier for me – because when you’re not here, I miss you too.

You still love dogs – so so much. You have always been this way – when something catches your interest, it grips you and you devour information about it, a nearly unquenchable thirst for knowledge. It used to be dinosaurs when you were smaller, and now – as it has been – it’s dogs. You know so much about them, and I made your birthday cupcakes this year to resemble little dog faces. Your sister and I struggled to break those pretzels just so for those dog ears and dog mouth pieces. You apologized for picking the most difficult recipe in the book. I meant when I said that it wasn’t too difficult and that I was happy to do it.

The other night, a piece of the hardware in my bathroom sink broke and I was struggling to fix it with a steak knife – trying to unjam the drain plug because it was wedged so tightly and wouldn’t come loose and the water in my sink wouldn’t drain. It was ridiculous, in retrospect, but I was frustrated. And so I sat on the bathroom floor pouting about it. You came into the bathroom with a heart shaped sticker, pressed it onto my shirt and you hugged me. You know, you always know, when someone needs a hug, needs to know they are cared about. I am grateful for that.

Your love of animals may at some point turn into experiments with vegetarianism – and I’m already sensing that. Recently, at Uncle J’s birthday party, you ate a few bites of the barbecued pork and then stopped. It was a pig roast, and yeah, they still had that whole pig carcass on the grill – its face too, even. “I’m just too sad for the little pig to eat anymore,” you told me. Then you filled up on potato chips. Since then, you’ve also expressed concern about how your cupcake feels (I assured you that the cupcake has no feelings) – your big heart holds so many things dear.

You love your sister, even though the two of you still bicker a lot. You hug her and tell her you love her, even though she doesn’t always hug back. You miss her when she’s with her friends and I can tell how you admire her. You’ve just mentioned wanting to do gymnastics again, I’m sure it has more than a little to do with The Princess.

Your eyes are the most beautiful I have ever seen in my life.

You are an amazing reader, and you devour books as I do, as your sister does. The three of us can go in a library, go our separate ways and meet in the middle, all of us with towering stacks of books. By the time we get home again, you’re halfway through your first one. I love that.

You lost SO MANY teeth this year and after months of wide open spaces where teeth should be, they’re finally growing back and it’s fun to see these big teeth in the small teeth places.

Your favorite color is purple.

We sing before you go to bed every night – “I love you so much, I love you so much. I can’t even tell you how much I love you. You’re special to me, you’re special to me. I’m lucky to have you as part of my life. I love you I love you I love you. I love you I love you I love you. I love you so much, I love you so much, I can’t even tell you how much I love you.” Once we sang over FaceTime. It as relaxing a part of my night as it is to yours. Most nights, thirty minutes after I tuck you in, you’ll come back downstairs, ask me to snuggle, and I’ll go to your room and we’ll sing. (You wake up too early, you go to bed too late.)

It’s your birthday. Another year has gone by, sweetpea. I can’t wait to see what eight looks like.

I love you with my whole heart, and I’m so very lucky to be your mom.

Love,

Mom.

Filed Under: Mom Shtuff

Our Favorite Children’s Books For Summer

July 7, 2013 by Leave a Comment

One of my favorite blogging perks – since no one is clamoring to send me on lovely trips to write about them (though I’m TOTALLY open to that, FYI) – is getting brand new books in the mail to review. I get quite a lot of books, and it makes me and the little people tremendously happy. It also makes me friends happy because for some reason, I get a bit of romance novels and I really don’t care to read or review those so they immediately get passed on to friends who will dig ’em.

The kids’ books I mention on my blog have met a few criteria:

  • My daughters like them
  • I like them
  • I believe they have enough staying power to not get annoying after you’ve read it to a kid four times in a row

When I get books, Pumpkin goes through them first (most of what I’ve received has been more fitting for a 4 – 8 year old age group, so The Princess opts out of a lot of the reading). She tells me what she likes, and I read and pare the list down from there. What you’re seeing here are some of our latest faves.

Fanciest Doll in the Universe

Fancy Nancy: Fanciest Doll in the Universe

I’m forever a fan of the Fancy Nancy series – I love the illustrations, I love the concept, and I love the sneaky vocabulary lessons (“Then my mom tries consoling me. That’s fancy for making me feel better.”). In this latest book, Nancy’s little sister draws all over Nancy’s favorite doll with a permanent marker. Nancy is devastated that her doll is “ruined” and mad at her little sister. In the end, of course, the sister-drawn tattoo ends up being a good thing, and Nancy realizes her sister won’t always be little forever. I kind of dug this – I remember Pumpkin ruining her older sister’s stuff. It’s a sibling thing and it’s pretty common and I love how they covered it.

Sticky, Sticky, Stuck!

A family so wrapped up with work, cell phones, television and the like that they fail to pay attention to little Annie except to tell her she’s sticky. So when Annie makes a sticky sticky sandwich and the whole family gets stuck they realize they actually kind of like to spend time with each other and it’s good to put the phones down and connect with the people in front of us. Uh, whut? Yeah. Kind of heavy handed, but a cute way to share a good message. And yes, I put the iPhone down for awhile after reading it.

Pete the Cat: Pete at the Beach (My First I Can Read)

The Pete the Cat series (we just received Pete at the Beach, Pete’s Big Lunch, and Play Ball) are great because they are for beginning readers and are entertaining and somewhat challenging but not so challenging that you’re filling in every third word for your reader.

Tyler Makes Spaghetti!
But perhaps my favorite of the bunch is this offering from chef Tyler Florence (apparently, he’s also penned Tyler Makes Pancakes! which sounds equally fun). With the focus I’m working on instilling in my kids – eating more whole foods and less meals from packages (I’m not all the way there yet, by the way. My addiction to snack foods isn’t likely to end any time soon, but for meals, I’m doing a pretty darn good job), I love this book’s focus on the simple and natural ingredients that encompass a meal of spaghetti and meatballs. The book finishes with Tyler Florence’s recipe – and yeah, I’ll be giving that a try soon with the kids in the near future.

**

So these are some of the latest pages we’ve been turning. What have you been reading with your kiddos this summer?

 

Though these books were sent to me free for review, the opinions expressed are my own. Amazon affiliate links used because why on earth not.

Filed Under: Books and Stuff, Mom Shtuff, Review Tagged With: , , ,

On Having to Say Goodbye: Reading about death and dying

June 5, 2013 by 3 Comments

I’ve been reading quite a lot about death and dying today and if that sounds absolutely morbid to you, well, believe me, every time I enter a new search term in Google, I cringe a little also.

How to talk to children about dying, I type.

I find these articles, articles that tell me to be honest with my children and brief, but to answer all of their questions. Don’t say that dying is like the body going to sleep forever. What you say about after dying depends on what you believe.

The articles say that parents often avoid talking to their children about death – ostensibly to “protect the children” but in reality, it’s a method of avoiding. Let’s not talk about the difficult things. If we ignore it, it will go away. If we don’t talk about it then can it really be happening?

My family met with hospice yesterday.

“I thought about all of the things that everyone ever says to each other, and how everyone is going to die, whether it’s in a millisecond, or days, or months, or 76.5 years, if you were just born. Everything that’s born has to die, which means our lives are like skyscrapers. The smoke rises at different speeds, but they’re all on fire, and we’re all trapped.”

– Jonathan Safran Foer, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close

The thing is… no one is saying that this is it. They’re not saying it’s days or weeks. In the hours that have passed since my mother called me with the news, I have been told numerous times that there are people who have had hospice care for years even. While I’m not naive to believe that that would be the case here, it has helped me find peace to know that there’s still time.

But.

While there’s still time, it’s important to make the most of that time, to take none of it for granted and to make sure my grandfather knows just how very loved he is, has always been, and how much better he has made my world.

My dad said to me on the phone yesterday, “Sarah, death is a part of life,” and I was angry at this statement. Though realistic, and though it’s true, the expression of this truth felt like he was crushing me, and ant beneath the heel of a boot. While I know he’s right, and while I know the statement wasn’t intended to hurt, it did.

That my grandfather is dying is devastating to me. Yes, it’s a part of that whole circle thing – but it’s the part that sucks for those of us who will be left behind.

“Dying was nothing and he had no picture of it nor fear of it in his mind. But living was a field of grain blowing in the wind on the side of a hill. Living was a hawk in the sky. Living was an earthen jar of water in the dust of the threshing with the grain flailed out and the chaff blowing. Living was a horse between your legs and a carbine under one leg and a hill and a valley and a stream with trees along it and the far side of the valley and the hills beyond.”
– Ernest Hemingway, For Whom the Bell Tolls

He has made his peace and he has lived an amazing life and he has loved and he is loving and we have loved and we are loving and I don’t know how my world will ever be the same.

When I was younger I remember standing in my front yard and the air was cool with a strong breeze, the clouds pushed through the sky by the wind. “The world must be spinning very fast today,” my mom said, and I laughed at her.

“It’s not the earth, mom, it’s the wind!” I replied.

“My dad always told me that it was because the world was spinning really fast.”

And it’s just like him to have said such a thing, and mom will tell you now that she never really believed that, but at the heart of it all, he’s a kind soul, with a light heart, and a goofy sense of humor.

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“I’m in good with the man upstairs,” he told my sister during one of his hospital stays this past fall. Deeply rooted in his faith, I don’t doubt that he’s found his peace and he has comfort in what may be waiting for him – that perhaps to him this is not an ending, but a new beginning.

I’ve, uh… never been good at the faith thing – but I hope that his beliefs bring him hope and comfort.

“In the external scheme of things, shining moments are as brief as the twinkling of an eye, yet such twinklings are what eternity is made of – moments when we as human beings can say “I love you,” “I’m proud of you,” “I forgive you,” “I’m grateful for you.” That’s what eternity is made of: invisible imperishable good stuff.”
-Mister Rogers

Over the past 24 hours, I have thought to myself, how truly blessed I am to know while I still have the opportunity to tell him, how much I love him, how he has made a difference to me. How I’m grateful for every little moment – and every not so little moment – and I still get to tell him. He’s still here. Not everyone is that lucky.

As for what I’ll tell my children, I still don’t entirely know. I suppose I’ll tell them that great grandpa is old, and that bodies are similar to machines and to toys in that sometimes when they get older, things start going wrong, they don’t always work so well anymore. And sometimes, like that time when we were able to sew that stuffed animal back together, people and toys can be fixed. And sometimes they cannot. That we’ll be spending more time with my grandpa, their great grandpa, while we can. I’ll tell them stories about how when I was a kid, he always had candy for me like he always has for them now. How he told their grandmother that the world was spinning very fast. That he always kept pretzel rods and red Koolaid in the house. That when I was a kid and he’d call on the phone, we raced to see who could say “GOTCHA!” to the other first. That I’m sad because I love him, but that even when someone dies, we don’t forget them and that we get to keep the memories. That he’s still the same person, and there’s nothing to be scared of. And how he calls The Princess the smart gymnast and Pumpkin is the funny one and how much he loves them. I’ll let The Princess do handstands in the nursing home so he can see her and brag about her to the other residents. And when Pumpkin hides under a chair to be funny, I’ll let her because he thinks it’s funny too.

This part of parenting is hard.These things, these big heavy things that they’ll learn about from me and from life. I don’t want to be scared of these big things, because I don’t want them to fear them either.

This isn’t easy.

This is all just really really awful.

But I love him. I don’t want him to hurt.And I don’t get a choice in what happens, only what I do with the time we have left.

And so I will make it count.

Filed Under: Mom Shtuff Tagged With: ,

To my daughter on her 11th birthday

May 28, 2013 by Leave a Comment

Dear Princess,

Last week, your sister woke me up and the first words out of her mouth were, “Eight days until Princess’s birthday.” She was so excited about your birthday that it was her first thought upon waking that day. I don’t blame her; I’m pretty excited too.

I know that this has been a big weird crazy year, and I hope that we’re able to move past the chaos and the changes and the transition and settle into some new kind of normal. I kind of dig our house full of girls (well, and the dog), and I’ve been working really hard to do what I can to limit the disruption in your life.

It’s been hard, the times I’ve had to say, “No we can’t buy this” or “We can’t do this” — and I hate it as much as you do, however, in a way it’s been a blessing because I see you appreciating the small things more. I’m the mom, and it’s my job to make sure you have shoes that fit you – but it wasn’t until this year that you thanked me when I bought them for you. I’m doing my best to keep your head free of cares while I get back on my feet, but I know you can tell that it’s not always easy.

You’ve grown up a lot this year – and yeah, part of that is because of life and circumstance and part of it is because, well, it’s time. Just last week they had “the talk” at school. Also, I recently attended the orientation for middle school. And frankly? Nothing says “growing older” like a crush on a boy band where the members have ridiculous hair (someday you’ll laugh about this One Direction thing. Maybe. I laugh about liking New Kids on the Block when I was younger. Google them. You’ll laugh too).

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Last week we baked biscuits for strawberry shortcake and I made you laugh by dancing around the kitchen to Vanilla Ice’s “Ice Ice Baby” (“You’re so proud of yourself that you know all the words to this old song, aren’t you?” you said to me). I love to make you laugh. And I love that we bake together. You’re pretty good at it, and soon I won’t even have to bother. You’ll take my Queen of Cookies crown (there’s not actually a crown, but if there were, we’d have it).

You are both extremely serious and extraordinarily silly and I like when silly trumps serious sometimes. You’re a kid. Life is silly. Please keep finding the fun.

We survived another season of gymnastics – you have a whole slew of medals now – and I’m fantastically proud of you. I don’t know where you go from here with it – you have an opportunity to go to a bigger and better gym — and I don’t think you want to. That’s okay, Princess. While I want you to have the opportunity to try a different place with a different style, it’s more important to me that you are able to hang on for your love of the sport. I don’t want this to be un-fun for you. I will follow your lead.

You’re extraordinarily smart. You…well, you always have been. I could sugar coat it or put on that “aw shucks” attitude about it – but, you were just born this way. Wish I could take credit for it, but dang, girl. You’re kind of just amazing by nature. It’s fun to watch your brain work.

I have no idea what this upcoming year holds for you – but I know that I will sit back and try to enjoy this ride. I imagine this is a year where you will start demanding more independence and thus it will be the year where I will have to learn a little bit how to let go and when to let go and when I still get to hold on. You are amazingly grounded with a level-head on your shoulders, and I’ve been blessed to have you in my world.

Eleven years ago today I first looked at your face and my world was changed, and daily you keep changing my world in all kinds of spectacular ways. Eleven years ago I officially became a mom, and though I’m not one to define myself solely by the fact that I am a mother, being a mother – being your mother – has shaped who I am more than anything else in my world ever has.

Sheesh. Where did all that time go?

Happy birthday to you, Princess. I love you with my whole heart and I am oh so very lucky to be your mom.

I love you,

Mom

Filed Under: Mom Shtuff
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