Coming of Age




This is my blog of blogs. You want my everyday life, go to www.nanettie66.livejournal.com - Want to start reading a story? Go to http://nettiewrites.blogspot.com -Updates on my work life? http://freshpickedboutique.blogspot.com - You want passion and writing, here you are. We are coming of age. It is that time in life. It is not just about adolescence but also about the transition from adult to grown up. Come of age with me. Read my blog(s).

Saturday, February 28, 2009

Intermission

Too much to say that couldn't be said here.
At least not now.
My words have been working elsewhere.
I am working on getting them up somewhere else, private, where maybe they will touch even one person in need of them.

An intermission on this blog doesn't mean I have gone away. I may move it to another name at some time, but for now, I'm around still.

Keep checking.

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

It Wasn't Me

It wasn't me talking the other day. Or now. I swear. Alter ego taketh over and here she goes!

The girls are at their dad's.

I hate saying that. There it is. I said it. I hate saying it.

It is raining and I am awake but refusing to do work or chores no matter how behind.

Yup, said that too.

Wish I could sleep. What will it take to get one to sleep sans nightmares? (Other than a new history which obviously isn't going to happen)

Ahhhhhhhhh

So much has been going on and I have been so far away from my writing place. Speaking of which, it is about time this girl gets published. SDFM contacted me and elated with joy I am awaiting the reply from the editor with the go-ahead for one of my ideas before I just go there and slip an article in their layout. Kidding. Seriously though, it is about time. I'm officially in my "thirties" now and DAMN I've been through enough to know I what I want and I want to follow my dreams.

I look around my partially empty house and shiver at past memories. I take a second look and only see a positive and fulfilling future. It is mine because I will work for it.

If I am really quiet for a moment, I can hear the tiny sounds of my not-so-baby-but-always-my-baby breathing in the other room. I get up and check on him occasionally and see the tiny curls frame his face. He sleeps with his mouth slightly open with his plump lower lip (oh how I am jealous- botox, restilin (sp?)- when the money comes I want you!!!) just like his daddy.

All three kids sleep in similar positions but so different. It is so amazing that these small people grew inside my body for thirty-seven weeks and now are real people that are going to grow up and contribute to the world in some fabulous way (because their souls will be raised to want to be fabulous and fabulous excretes from their pores).

T senses you are close to her and the moment you collapse into the cool sheets and pull up the blanket she is on you like butter on toast. Melting to your form and discontent with anything less than full coverage. She is almost as big as me, yet when she sleeps she is still a baby to me. I wonder when she is my age and I look at her asleep (if I am so lucky) if I will still see that same form- that baby in her always. Will I remember the way she leisurely nursed as if all my time was for her? I held her constantly, as this was her needs. She was slow to crawl, tentative to walk, but had no problem running. Her brain works fast. She takes in every detail and remembers everything. Quiet at first, she astonishes me with what comes out of her once she opens up. Even our little girls must grow up and we hope we are teaching her the best and being the role model we need to be. Baby, I tell her, don't rush to grow up. Enjoy this time. Enjoy your youth. It will never be this way again. She, as the oldest, as been through the most and seen too much and heard too much. Still she flourishes and we battle wits and I commend and respect her because she is HER.

Little L. Petite and tiny I almost forget she is a Big Girl now and not a baby. After a hard and terrible morning, she asked me to pick her up out of the car and carry her to the classroom as I dropped her off to preschool. She snuggled in like she was the only one and had my world in her hands. I kissed her tiny toes as I convinced her to change her shoes because of the rain. My fashion Diva has such a mind of her own when it comes to getting dressed. Did I battle my mom in such a way? Her outfit perfectly blended in a trendy way, mixing her hand-me-downs with her own clothes in the most fashionable of ways. She was set and ready and cried when I left for work. Tears fall from my eyes sometimes as I too am not quite adjusted to the full-time work/full-time mom thing when I always planned on staying home with my children.

But times change, situations change, economies even change and so we must too change with them and do it with a smile. I am proud of what I do. I know it will benefit them someday although I ache and ache to be back with them living every moment and being their number one. That is now lost and can never be returned. I know what I am doing is best for them, for me. But it still hurts as oftentimes change does.

Little L, the artist, wanted to "change" my bathroom. You know, in all the remodeling done to the house one of the last things on the list was the master bathroom and painting of the bedroom. So it has remained (like so many other things) unfinished for about two years now since the collapse of our "empire". Yes I said it out loud. We had a downfall. I'm still alive. I have learned so much. I can even talk about it. But that is another (long) story.

So, in a mere three minutes she pulled out a horrible Hunter Green paint and decoupage glue from my pre-kids days when I used to actually have talents including crafts and proceeded to paint the bathroom.

Her three minutes took me another two hours to fix (and of course, it will never be completely fixed until the cabinets and counter are refinished or replaced because I may be a mom but not a total miracle worker) and I followed that clean-up with a nice hot shower because really, there wasn't much else to do.

T's intelligence and L's creativity remind me of the biggest parts of me that I do not always now how to control. And so when they do certain things, I am OHSOMAD and ready to teach a lesson but deep down- shhhhh don't let them know yet- I get it.

Tiny D is growing and exploring and learning mischief from his sisters. He can climb from the floor to the chairs and get on the table and dance to the cartoon music. As much as this makes me want to laugh out loud, I know I must put it to a stop before I am cleaning baby brains up and I immediately reprimand him in the way one can discipline a one-year-old and pray he finds something less dangerous to discover. Or less disgusting than the toilet...

My last baby. I was so happy to get my tubes tied, so ready to say never again, I am done. But now that most of my cervix is, well, gone and all that other stuff I cannot have kids in any way ever again and a small (sick?) part of me is sad. I grieve.

I am in a state of excitement and grieving all at once over so many things. That is why I have not been writing. That is why tonight I am not writing well. My mind moves too fast. My body too slow. I don't know when it is appropriate to laugh and when to cry. This also will change with time (or meds) but for now, it is a day by day approach to taking it in and being real while still putting on the game face.

Yup, I said it. I put on the game face sometimes. And I hope I do it well. I hope most of you have no idea which is the real thing and which is the one for show.

I never want to be a downer. I never want to be "that girl" no matter what I go through. No matter what I survive (did you see my purple ribbon added on to the site? speaking of survival... it speaks for all cancers and domestic violence and is my favorite color. talk about having it all!).

I write tonight knowing I am saying things I normally would not.
I write tonight knowing I am not saying much at all.
I know by not saying much sometimes it says a lot.
These things I know to be true.
Like laughter and bubbles and nature's intentions.

I take a break and then return to the blog to write some more. I don't remember my intention in posting this tonight. I don't think I had one.

I hear in the back of my head Peter, Paul and Mary singing.
"Lemon Tree very pretty and the lemon flower is sweet. But the fruit of the poor lemon is impossible to eat."

I hear Cat Stevens whispering to me.
"I never wanted to be a star. I never wanted to travel far.

Robert Frost says to me:
Two road diverged in a yellow wood and I, I took the one less traveled by. And that has made all the difference.

Somewhere else I hear a whisper from Johnny Cash, "I walk the line"

Don't we?

Laura Roppe reminds me "To hold on for just one more day"

And so I will.

Sometimes I have something to say. And sometimes I have something to say about nothing.

Much Ado About Nothing

So, a month has gone by and I haven't posted a thing on this blog. I have however blogged my brains out on my work site (if you haven't been there lately- shame on you, click the link to the boutique below!) and added some personal writings on my other two blogs.

I got some fantastic news early this month (and still didn't post). Results from my surgery are in. The margins are clear and the doc is pretty certain nothing spread- meaning no further surgery for a while and no further treatment necessary! Yahoo! Who's ass did I kick this year? Cancers. Hmpf.

Yet, I've still had a troubled month and an overworked, overwhelmed mind. I feel like I'm kind of in a mixed state (meaning rambling thoughts covering a deepening depression) which I am vehemently fighting off. I'm even (shock) looking for a psychiatrist to get my meds adjusted after my many years of banning one. Luckily, this will fall under state funding I am eligible for since I still have no health insurance. I am also returning to a chiropractor (
http://www.activeposture.com/) and working on getting some of this pain under control. Of course, with everything I have (including arthritis of the spine) it isn't a cure-all but really, really needed. And I'm hoping to finally have some migraine relief. More on that as it goes...

However, if all goes according to plan it looks as though MB might have FINALLY gotten a job- and one with benefits in 90 days so we'll see how that goes. That all however is another long story and my head is not up for it at all.

My sleep is still totally fucked up but I guess that is just a symptom of so many other things. I have gotten (with help) some really long nights of sleep but afterwards I still don't feel "rested" and I am longing for this fatigue to pass now that I have fully recovered from my surgery and it has been over a year since I was pregnant.

The little ones are getting bigger and more mischievous. They surprise me daily with their antics and make me smile with their love for life.

Business is well, going.

Taxes are getting filed to be followed by finally the BIG filing I don't like to talk about but it has to be done and I want it done now. Like everything else, I wonder where I will fit it all in but I know I will because it must be done.

I am in a state where music moves me, little things are big, and my mind is too fast to curl up with a book.

It is raining. Hard, beautiful rain on a cold pre-Thanksgiving night. The last time it rained, a beautiful rainbow found its way outside our bay window. The two little ones were asleep for their nap but I called over to T to take a look and it moved her in such a way she cried and said she had never seen anything so beautiful. Her breath was taken away by this thing that all children know about and draw but in her five years she had yet to see and really take in. This was the real thing- the full round dark rainbow that only shines here every now and then. We got a great couple pictures and cuddled under the blanket on the couch and turned back to watching Hannah Montana. I'm too tired to upload the picture but I'll try and edit the posting another night.

*Here it is*

So, lots and lots of other news. Lots to say. But being one AM and all and the downpour of rain taunting me- I think I'll go to bed...

Thursday, October 30, 2008

Insomnia: Part III

Okay, so....
last night I slept pretty good, considering everything. Pretty good for me at least.

Yet I was still tired today. So tired I could barely think. I contemplated wishing I had the kind of job I could call in sick while the Nanny watched the kids and I slept twelve hours.

This morning, I could not even practically move enough to pour some cereal for the poor children attempting to put on a Ballet for me before I dragged myself into the shower.

I expected tonight as soon as they went out, so would I. But I had a few chores to finish up and I'm about to fold my last load of laundry and would you look at the time?

Ugh. I'm going to get through this in one piece.

I always do.

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Insomnia: Part II

(Hint: Reading Insomnia first would make more sense of this entry...)

Or maybe it is because we know what the reality of the morning and tomorrow brings. And that is what gets in the way of our sleep.

A human can only survive so long without sleep; sleep is necessary like food and water.

So eventually I know, my mind and body and soul will break and sleep will wash over me like the blue waves of Bora Bora.

Eyes so tired they can not read a book, see a computer or watch TV can suddenly pop open when they hit a bed knowing tomorrow brings new challenges to face and old ones to surrender and deal with.

XOXO

Monday, October 27, 2008

Insomnia

Deep breath.

Anxiety sends shivers down my spine. Nights and nights of sleep deprivation, worry, and pain have left me in a thick fog.

Pain not only keeps me from sleeping and awakens me during the night, but distracts me throughout my day. Thoughts of things undone burden me at times when I am unable to tend to them. Taxes due, unfinished inventory, appointments to make and attend, phone calls not returned, things to post, a dishwasher to unload, laundry piling up, etc. We all have a clear picture of our unfinished tasks.

My personal life is in shambles and my finances are sickening.

I worry about the children.

Not only do I feel emotionally destroyed, but my appetite is at its best a minimum and what does go in rarely wants to stay. Migraines come and go as they please. Muscle spasms- probably due to unusual movements of doing too much in different ways to avoid the pain after surgery- seem to not be healing.

I have no health insurance.
My children have no health insurance.

I try and keep the most positive, upbeat attitude and demeanor possible. But inside I feel the monster ripping up my insides and at night I lie there writhing in pain no amount of medicine seems to cure. Subside a little perhaps, but no better than that.

My coffee pot is broken.
And that is the least of the worries.

Balled up disgust comes out as the random leg cramp. When I do sleep, I suffer from disturbing dreams and nightmares I am aware I am having, but cannot awaken from.

I long for a lengthy, uninterrupted, healthy, healing and refreshing sleep.

Almost midnight and I am not even there yet. My day starts in just under seven hours. I never needed much sleep, but night after night of rarely any at all (and certainly no actual good sleep), I have no idea how many hours it would take to get me to the place where I need to be.

The problems never go away. If not these, than that. So really I should not focus on those "things" as being reasons.

My eyes are tired and this computer screen seems far away. A lot of things seem very, very far away right now and others seem too close for my liking.

I know I will get into my bed and at least lie there in an attempt to rest my soul even if my mind does not cooperate.

Insomnia has made me beyond mad before. Back in the day before I even new there were things to take to help. And then, even after.
Night after night would blend into some sort of dream. Sometimes it would be days or even weeks before a real sleep would come. Even when they started me on meds and sleeping pills this did not change. The hallucinations become so vivid after enough time. Sometimes you feel as if you are sleeping with your eyes open in odd places. Time passes unusually. Things happen that you are unsure are really happening and will never really know if they did.

Sometimes our stress leads us to oversleeping and an unwillingness to wake up and move on. I am not in that place. If I just go through the motions everyday, maybe something right will happen. Tempers are short when we are tired. We don't look well. Eventually others notice. They comment as if we do not know. As if there is something we can do about it.

Advice is given unwanted and freely like when you are pregnant in a public place and some stranger comments about what you should be eating regularly or how to wear the right shoes to support the baby. As if someone with any common sense does not know these things. Whether or not we do everything perfectly and correctly, for the most part we already know. And when we don't, probably we are reading about it, asking, looking it up.

Sleep.

I long for you.

I feel your blanket covering my cold, small body like nothing else can. I shiver thinking about it.

We want each other in a comforting way.

The mind spins so fast we cannot even concentrate long enough to sleep sometimes, some weeks.

Like a bowl of hot soup, I know it will feel good and I should feel better after.

Such chaos surrounds me and my game face is plastered on. I do not know what I feel.

Exhausted. Three syllables that don't do true justice when we truly feel it. Exhausted is not just a night of up late talking or too much wine the night before or even a hard day of work or dealing with our children. It is a true physical sensation that only coincides with a lifetime of sleep deprivation. Fatigue after weeks of lacking proper sleep hurts our brain, compromising our decision making and ability to do our best. That is exhaustion.

So many word are overused- or should I say misused? As they are some kind of verb or adjective to describe something simple when actually their meanings are much more complex.

TBC

Saturday, October 25, 2008

Where did she go?

Where has she been they ask?

Or perhaps they have not noticed that I have not been to this place in about six weeks.

It is interesting how the time flies by as we age.

If you read them all, you would have noticed that I have been around some. A little Live Journaling and a little Fresh Picking but not really a lot of writing about me and life. Have I been avoiding because I am afraid my flowing thoughts might put words on this page I might not want to see? Or did I just not want to talk about it? And what really is "so busy, you know, and all"?

And still I am not saying anything at all yet.


If we made a chart of our life that included everyday we would every live and could put a bright dot on what we believe would make it to the top one hundred weeks in our existence and a dark dot on what we believe would be the toughest/hardest/saddest, this week would have a dark dot.

And I don't say that a lot because I am one of those people who truly believe that we are thrown obstacles to overcome regularly and that is what makes us who we are and who we become. But weeks of recovery and hardship finally led to a spiral of difficulty that was not just an obstacle, but in fact another discovery (light bulb on) that we were not looking for at all. Discoveries and realizations during these obstacles along with a feeling of helplessness that no matter what we can do in the face of this hardship we CANNOT fix or change it and have to sit somewhat on the sideline while we do what we can as we watch something painfully crumble.

So after one too many sleepless nights and anxiety, I finally reside on the couch to lose myself in a movie and go to bed. Vow to do nothing but, once the kids were all down. And so what did I pick? Bridge to Terabithia.
This reminds me of weeks such as these as a child when I would finally want some ending to the tough week when I would pick up the book and read it one more time. Because we cannot always make sense of things and the reasons for tragedies and hardships are never clear in the midst of them. And I know when it nears the end and the tears tremble uncontrollably down my face, I can just say they are for this wonderfully tragic story.

I just don't exactly say which story they are chasing.

Monday, September 08, 2008

Ecclesiastes Chapter III

I debated going to bed like I should and drinking a glass of wine and writing. Guess which won? Maybe I am more upset than I should be or maybe I am just so in denial and shock I need to write because that is what gets me going, gets me through. I'm so private and different in my shell but my writing opens me up. I guess only another writer or musician could understand exactly how that works but somehow it works for us.

One thing I really don't talk a lot about is my belief in God, my views on religion, my interpretation of the bible. Sure I will get into a good debate with anyone over anything great and speak my mind, but that's different than talking about it. So sometimes I write about it. Not so much directly, but as a writer. Which I guess is one of the things God intended or at least enabled me to do, to become.

And so, as I have done before from so many other writers, I quote:

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck
up that which is planted;
A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build
up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.
What profit hath he that worketh in that wherein he laboureth?
I have seen the travail, which God hath given to the sons of men
to be exercised in it.
He hath made every thing beautiful in his time: also he hath set the world in their heart, so that no man can find out the work that God maketh from the beginning to the end. I know that there is no good in them, but for a man to rejoice, and to do good in his life. And also that every man should eat and drink, and enjoy the
good of all his labour, it is the gift of God. I know that, whatsoever God doeth, it shall be for ever: nothing can be put to it, nor any thing taken from it: and God doeth it, that men should fear before him.
That which hath been is now; and that which is to be hath already been; and God requireth that which is past. And moreover I saw under the sun the place of judgment, that wickedness was there; and the place of righteousness, that iniquity was there. I said in mine heart, God shall judge the righteous and the wicked: for
there is a time there for every purpose and for every work. I said in mine heart concerning the estate of the sons of men, that God might manifest them, and that they might see that they themselves are beasts. For that which befalleth the sons of men befalleth beasts; even one thing befalleth them:
as the one dieth, so dieth the other; yea, they have all one breath; so that
a man hath no preeminence above a beast: for all is vanity. All go unto one place; all are of the dust, and all turn to dust again. Who knoweth the spirit of man that goeth upward, and the spirit of the beast that goeth downward to the earth?
Wherefore I perceive that there is nothing better, than that a man should
rejoice in his own works; for that is his portion: for who shall bring
him to see what shall be after him?

And so I end quote.

What now, what next in our life to look upon to make us stronger to form our
being? Seems so silly to wonder why when there never is a why to the way- or so it
has always seemed to me.I believe in things we can't see. Sometimes its good things and sometimes it is not. Sometimes we only see what we want and sometimes there are things we cannot see.(side note- why can't I fucking unblock the font? Stupid smarter computer. Or did I unblock it? Hmmm... Anyway.)

I am a little angry tonight. A little pissed off. A lot sad. Even more so in shock. And I feel- get this- ashamed for having these feelings.

I had my biopsy today and things were worse than anticipated and so in one week from today I'm going to go to the hospital and have my entire cervix remove. Press Delete Here.

I feel guilty because things were worse and maybe a little on the bad side (to me at least) but not bad in comparison to the possibilities. I feel guilty because so many people have much worse news and actually have something to be sad about. I spent the earlier half of the day rejoicing and thinking "oh is that all?" In some sort of stupor, denial, drunken-off-news-state-of-being.

1. It's just pre-cancerous cells, otherwise known only as Stage 0 Cancer. Get that 0 there? 0.

2. It's just my cervix- I am thirty-one, married, and have three beautiful and perfectly healthy children. I don't need any more. Was not planning on having anymore.

3. Thank you God for giving me Little D so much sooner than anticipated. I could have missed out on such a beautiful thing if we would have waited as we were trying to. See you really do know what is best. What is to come. And why we deal with it when we do.

Which then later turned to

4. Omigodyouareremovingmywhatandwhy and how exactly does that work?

5. Um, Insurance please?

and finally

6. (Pearl Jam/Drum roll here) I'm still alive.

And I will see my children get older and wiser and bigger than me so what do I have to complain about? Take the damn thing. I don't need it anymore. If I was not trying to run, you know, a business and all and like, I didn't have three young children I would encourage you to take the other half (the Uterus) with it now instead of later.

The doctor held my hand and acknowledged this was scary and his eyes promised he would take care of me and I lightly skirted around the real subject and started asking every question but. I danced on home (well, limped a little the biopsy fucking hurt and yes it still hurts why am I sitting in this chair- eat and go to bed already). I went through my night. I eventually let things sink in and then I got slightly angry. And so the story goes and so here I am. And here I go. Off to eat. To bed. To cuddle with two or three of my offspring while I pray I sleep through the cramping and try not to think about what Monday brings. For there is a time and a purpose and I have to believe that and so I do.

Saturday, September 06, 2008

This Week In History

So, it's been a week of new beginnings, inner discoveries, growth, change, and the usual hardship.


One ending leads to another beginning and again change has occurred before we even realized it. Perhaps before we accepted it, but yet it still comes.


T started Kindergarten, L moved up to to the "big girl" classroom, and tomorrow D will turn one.


I remember one year ago today. At this moment I was counting the minutes of the contractions as the regularly came after months of denial that this time was coming. After weeks of full bed-rest. After days of denial turned to joy turned to fear, the time was coming. And just like the previous two labors it was exactly thirty-seven weeks to the day and I knew this was it. I also knew I had time. I had the night.

I did not sleep at all, although I knew I should. I knew I would need the energy for the long hard labor to come- considering it would probably not be any easier than the previous two. Little did I know it would be even harder. I lied quietly on the couch, alternating between that and the rocking chair when the contractions were too tough to handle. I wanted everyone else to sleep through the night because I knew a long day waited ahead.

I had the TV on random channels because I could not focus on any one thing between the bouts of pain. The lights were off in case I was able to doze off here and there, which I was not. I cried. I cried because I knew none of my best friends would be there this time. I cried because my marriage had been in such chaos (little did I know it would get harder before it got better). Tears fell knowing this was different. Even though I had the same amount of time to prepare, I did not prepare. Money was tight. Everything I had for this baby boy was given to me out of the love and kindness of others- some who barely knew me.



The days before my mom and sister got me some small necessities like beanies and diapers and even a little blue brush in anticipation that this little gift would also come with a headfull of hair. Only one little thing was purchased by me in the entirety of the time I was pregnant. On the way to the hospital to get rehydrated one of the times I stopped at my favorite nearby boutique and bought a tiny preemie sized beanie, onesie and pants knowing this baby too would be early. Little did I know he would present himself at 7 lbs 12 oz. However, like the others he quickly lost weight and was down to 6 lbs exactly in less than a week and his "coming home outfit" was the only thing that fit just right for the first few weeks.


I was thankful my oldest daughter had started her new preschool a few days before. I was strong in my decision that my younger daughter should wait another few weeks before starting preschool for the first time so she did not associate it with the new baby coming- should he present himself early like they did (and he did). I was glad that day I took myself off bed rest to spend the day alone with her and my mom to buy her a new pair of shoes (her feet had grown) and had lunch together at our favorite pizza place. Little did I know months later I would be opening a store across the street from that same pizza place specializing in baby stuff! The surprises that are brought to us!


That night as the tears fell out of sorrow of lost friendships, strained relationships, financial hardship and fear of "would I be able to love this surprise little boy and support him?" I felt something inside me strengthen.

Things were going to change. It was not going to be smooth or easy but things had to move in a new direction and I began to gain a confidence I had not felt my entire pregnancy. I suddenly did not care if I had tiny blue socks or a co-sleeper or anything material. I realized that this was real, this baby was coming, he was a boy that I would raise to be a man to be proud of.


By three AM the contractions were starting to get to me and I got in the bath. I sat in the water until it cooled staring at my huge belly for the final time. This would be the last time I would see a bump in my belly and wonder if it was an elbow or a knee. I would never again feel the tiny kicks inside or hiccups and hold my head up proud knowing I was hard at work "growing people". I also realized soon I would not be constantly throwing up and crazier than normal.

I got out of the bath, dressed for the hospital and finished packing my bag. By five o'clock I awoke MB to get ready and my mom to come watch the kids and soon after we pulled out of the dark driveway listening to the Mikey show and arrived at the hospital for them to confirm "yes she's back and yes this time doctor said go ahead and get her an epidural- the baby is not waiting any longer".

Twelve hours later I was just getting to nine centimeters. Exhausted and in pain beyond words, I felt the shivers of transition begin. Sometime after nine that night, after hours of pushing and a special crew of delivery staff awaiting because of the complications, a tiny, squirmy baby boy was vacuumed out of me elbow first, head up after too many hours of labor and only two or so hours of pushing. I still don't think my pelvic bone ever healed.

As the morphine needle was pushed into my IV, I held my baby boy for the first time and knew I loved him before I ever accepted how much I loved him. Immediately he took to my breast and snuggled in for a meal. He has been the perfect baby ever since. After two wild girls who had their own agenda, this baby fell right into our crazy routine and made his place in our family immediately. He'll always be the most special surprise I have ever had and when he giggles with his beautiful sisters I know I am doing something right in the world.

Tomorrow we will celebrate the year we have had together with him, but only I alone will celebrate the year and thirty-seven weeks we have shared together.




I feel different emotions as I proudly walk my five-year-old daughter to her Kindergarten classroom. She clings to me as if she wants me there but I know after I leave she is confident and strong because I raised her to be. I never let her see the tears fall down my face as I got her bag ready for the first day of school and carefully lay out the outfit the night before. I held on to something special for months so she would have it for the first day no matter how tight money would be (little did I know how tight it would get!). I wonder how many moms are walking away each morning this week feeling a little loss, yet a little proud, just like me? I know some are not as emotional; I know some are.


I raised her to be proud and strong and confident. To speak without fear (although now we have to work on the back-talk as a result). She sings and learns and is brilliant like her parents which scares the shit out of me. I know ignorance is bliss and was always jealous of those less "there". Yes I sound like a stuck-up bitch saying that but you know its true so shove it! We will battle throughout our life. Our agreements and disagreements will be bountiful. One day she'll have her first kiss, her first love and her first heartbreak and I will be there for all of them.

She is the reason I made it this far as she is my firstborn. She came out hand first, head-up and she is always reaching out in need of something I hope I can help her find. I won't give her what she wants. but instead give her the skills she needs to do it herself and she will.

L.


L is my little girl/big girl. Sometimes she too forgets which she is. At three she attempts to conquer the world, while still attempting to retain some sort of "baby" behavior. She has no fear. She sings, dances, falls and jumps right up. Smiling and excited she just as quickly will scream and fall to the ground kicking.


As the middle child, there is always a special place for her. I love them all equally but different. Their ages and personalities enforce that. She will never be left out. Never be forgotten in a crowd or left behind in a group or not heard when speaking. She is also strong. I know both girls inside like myself sometimes have a doubt about what is right and what is wrong but they always persevere and survive and I love them for that.


Her blue eyes pierce right through my heart, and her tiny curls are just beginning to form so much later than her siblings. But she is different and proud and artistic. She dances to music she can hear wherever she goes. She does not give a damn what anyone thinks, nor should she. At times she is quiet and snugly and then quickly reminds you of her fiestiness at the first chance she gets. Her imagination is strong and her will stronger. She was born with the cord around her neck and she fought that off too.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lVam-fshUgw

Listen. And not to forget D. He is the original start of this posting. The song may be about daughters but think about your little ones in general and it fits them all. Listen. Listen again. And then hear the song.

There is something about this post about my three babies on the eve of the youngest turning one (technically twenty-three more hours but we will celebrate in less than twelve) that helps take my mind of the other things that matter in my life so much right now.

I have so much fear and anxiety and confusion. I am being open and honest and guess what? I will be okay for doing so. I disappear sometimes. So what? I don't always talk about what is really wrong. And? Sometimes I talk and talk about me. Sometimes it is important and sometimes it is just chatter to avoid what I really need to talk about. The point being? I am just me.

I had my babies and intended to stay home and raise them and be "my kid's mom". But things have happened and changed and I am not home twenty-four hours a day for them like SO MANY other moms. Some don't care but I know a lot of them, like me do. They want to be there for it all but they cannot be there for it all and take care of them. All of our choices, decisions and actions have consequences and we just do the best we can. Yeah, being a working mom SUCKS even if you absolutely love what you do and are fabulous at it (oh and I am fabulous at it)- you are not a full-time "mom". But it is what you have to do to do- the BEST for your kids- and you have to what is BEST for them no matter how it feels for you.

I have to be strong. Independent eventually. Teach my children what has been taught me and more. They too will teach me. No matter how successful I become (and dammit I hope I become successful in my business also) I will always be MOM first. And I'd like to be a damn good wife too if circumstances are right. And fuck after all this I hope it is right because I am giving it my all.

We have to sometimes do it all and still be good at it all. We don't always have the choice. For those of you out there that have a choice, I hope you choose to raise your babies yourself. And for those of you who don't- I hope you gain the confidence I am trying to find and realize by doing what you are doing you are being the BEST MOM and it is okay. It is different and sometimes it does suck when you miss out on things but never let your children suffer because you think its better to be with them than to take care of them however you have too. It hurts me, it pains me every time I walk out that door. But I took every step in ensuring the love they get when they are away from me is the next best thing to my love and I know they won't resent me for this after they get used to it. When they are adults they will understand I did what I had to do to ensure our stability and THAT IS WHAT IS BEST FOR THEM.

I believe in God and I believe no matter how angry I get, he would never give me more than I could handle. So he's raining it down on me. Shit it is pouring in every direction of my life and those around me. I am going to get something out of this. These experiences can only make me stronger because I am not letting them break me down. I might not want to talk about them but I will not let them get me.

I am surrounded by light and friends and love and family even in the ugliest of times and there must be lessons learned and lessons taught and I will make it through another week in my history. And that is the story for tonight.