Death Didn't Take You Away

Many years ago I wrote you a letter. I cant remember what it said, or where I put it...just that is was the most important and life changing piece of paper that I ever held. I put it in an envelope and I started to form a plan to safely ensure that I could say my peace. You never got to read it, I never got to send it. This world just couldn't let you stay. What would I tell you now? I would tell you that my whole life there was a hole inside of me. Something like the way a flame burns paper, it just kept growing and evolving in a singed untamed mess. Somehow when you died you seemed more attainable, closer than ever before. I would shuffle my preset radio stations asking the next song to be from you, a message...something to fill the blank. Staring at mirrors for what seemed like hours in a trance, watching my own face melt before my tired eyes and just hoping to find a glimpse of you in myself. When I was lonely and lost I would drive to your grave, sometimes in the middle of the night, and sit there. I never said a word, and it never made me feel any more whole. I never blamed you, even when I was supposed to, for the way my life played out. Things all work out and our hearts and fate lead us right where we should be. I'm all grown up and the wound is still there, but I no longer need you to heal it. Yet sometimes I wish you could see, I wonder what you would think, and I hurt because I know you can't. Would you be proud of who I am and embrace all my quirks, sensitivity and insanity?  I like to think that death took you to a place where you can see me and appreciate all that you've made possible. To be honest, when Im all alone driving at night and there are no other cars on the road, I pick a star and I claim it as you. I assume that star is shining brighter than any of the other stars specifically for me. Its silly, its childish, but it gets me through.

Happy December

"Mommy, I learned about the baby Jesus today", my 3 year old daughter says proudly upon returning from preschool. "Yeah, they didn't have room for him so they made him stay on the farm". After the initial shock and feeling like my daughter had just told me where babies come from, I had a good laugh. The fact of the matter is my children don't know the origin of Christmas. Some of you may agree and I'm sure many of you disagree, however the bottom line is this : They know the MEANING of the holiday season. Well, at least Autumn does, and Jude will in time. They know the warm feelings that come with decorating the house when it's cold and uncomfortable outside. They know the excitement of Santa and our new favorite, the elf on the shelf. Most importantly they know that it is a time for giving to others and showing your love. This year we went through all the toys and made donations before Christmas and I think that will be a tradition every year. After hearing "I want, I want, I'm gonna get, I need to have" several times I finally sat Autumn down and had a long talk with her about gifts at Christmas time. She understood quickly and can tell you now that Christmas is about giving. We may not be a religious family but I know I am very drawn to tradition, and would never deny our children those joys. Our tree is up, Our stockings are hung and were decorated with close friends. Presents are stacked in my closet and we are baking cookies on Wednesday. I've never been more excited about Christmas than I am this year and I have to thank my little monsters for that. While I was explaining the meaning of Christmas and reliving traditions while making new ones my kids didn't even realize that they were teaching me a whole new meaning to it as well. So no matter what you celebrate or how you celebrate it, Happy togetherness, Happy cookie eating, Joyful Giving and Merry Everything! Stay warm, stay Hopeful, and love each other....because in a week we'll all be back to selfish miserable grumps again LOL.

To live the day by night....

Each morning I wake to nearly the same situation in the same place with the same expectations. Nothing has changed, and at least for some time it will not. Yet there I am stunned, shocked, confused and overwhelmed by each repetition. I go through the day angry and frustrated, rarely enjoying moments I will never get a second chance at. I make excuses for it, There's always an explanation or at least someone else to blame. But lets face it...I make my own world go round. I look in the mirror with disgust, not only for what I see on the outside but for what that vessel holds inside. Almost as if it isn't me, I judge that girl and think how I could live her life so much better....so much easier. Sadly the same conclusion is always waiting for me. She is me, I am her and we cant seem to do any better for us. The same day with a different number on the calender drags into evening and my view begins to swirl. Things that made my blood boil are now simply warming my heart. I can smile again. I can see it all for what it is and appreciate it. I say my sorry's and finish the day out the way I should have started it. Calm quiet reflection falls over the house as everyone sleeps. I go to the same mirror with the same face and without surprise I see the same girl but now I see what everyone else claims to see. I notice her beauty, however flawed it may or may not be. I feel her pain and accept it. I want to tell her that tomorrow is going to be a new day, that she has another chance to be everything she sometimes knows she is....but I know she'll never hear me.

It's Just One Year

I'm strongly convinced that in a tough situation one of the best things you can do for yourself is have a good mantra. Whatever it may be, so long as it works for you and your situation. Have a fat ass? "Donuts are the devil". That may actually be a new one for me....But I'm falling off course here. from nearly the day Jude was born mine has been "It's just one year" . I know it's a terrible thing to wish time away from your baby's childhood but I was and sometimes still am desperate for an end to the stress. I kept thinking that babies are very needy and if I could just get to that point where he can move around and express what is wrong it would all be easier. Magically his first birthday would come and a weight would be lifted. Supermom would emerge from the hole she's been stuffed in and suddenly my baby would be happy all the time. He would never get sick, he would be equally attatched to his daddy as he is me. It's not that things havent gotten MUCH better but that year is one week away. It's just one week and nobody waved the magic wand. The fact of the matter is there is no wand because there is no problem. Well, except maybe me. I have wished away an entire year and while that time seemed like it was moving so slow at the time I look back now and it pains me that I didnt see how fast it was really going. So here we are amidst the party planning to celebrate just that one year. My new mantra? "It's just one life". I'm only going to get this one life, and I can only give each of my children one life.  If it kills me I have to find away to enjoy every moment of it because my one year of self pity is over. Children are children. The "easy" ones, and the not so easy ones. Jude may never be an easy kid. He may keep my grinding my teeth in frustration for the rest of my life, but from now on I'm not just going to wait for his life to pass me by. He's a perfect little life changing monster, and no matter how much you may hear me bitch, I wouldn't have it any other way.

It's ok if it only bleeds on the inside

If I gave you all my money would it make you love me more? If I failed at life, if I had no chance, would it make you that much better? I wonder almost constantly what I can do to be what you want...and when I fail, and I always do, I go searching to please everyone else. Am I pretty enough? do I clean enough? are my children always happy? It doesn't really matter because in your eyes I am just an obstacle. A hurdle you just cant quite jump. Your words cut like razors. Just a small slice that spreads wide open as soon as the blade pulls away. But its a pain you wont let me feel. Stuff it down, hide it away...it's silly, its immature, it's not real. I cant help but wonder how much one can take of the illusion of hurt. Is there a breaking point if the weight isn't really there? It's all a matter of perception and yours will never match up with mine. The material world has a hold on you that no amount of love can free up. Sometimes I wonder, due to the extreme change, if the memories I have are fabricated. If your smiles or encouraging words were ever really there at all. Maybe I have existed as a disappointment or object to resent the whole time. Failure follows me like the cloud you taught me so much about. I climb and I climb to reach the top of my own self loathing pit only to see your foot at the top waiting to kick me back down. How do you have so much power over me and then seemingly none over yourself? So what can I do but accept life for what it is, I am nothing without you yet I will always wonder if I mean nothing to you.

Just a place to start...

Time flies by like I never believed, although we are all warned as soon as we even mention wanting children. Not just the years but hours, minutes, seconds. And with that flying time goes little pieces of myself flying past too quickly to even notice they are gone. You find a moment, maybe two, to sit down and think about the past. About who you were, or are....if there is even a difference. I have deep internal conflict about whether I have changed or have just gone through necessary evolution to adapt to my surroundings. I had books upon books of ramblings written by myself all from a 2 year span of time so long ago. Insightful, dark and deeper than I think my mind even goes anymore. Am I so littered with Dora the Explorer and which brand of wipes work best that there is no time to maintain a true self? It's all my doing, and I love what I have, what I have made and the people that have helped me get here. But I do grow tired of the fake face. The one I have to paste on every day to looks like a "good mom". The false pefection that nearly every mother, and maybe some dads, feel compelled to put forth. I am human....I feel things that arent pretty to say and I do things that Im not always proud of. With one giant leap I cant come forth to the entire world and say "fuck you, this is who I am" but I suppose with one little blog that only my facebook, or google+ or whatever social network becomes the trend, friends will notice I may be able to hold together a shred of sanity. I cant be sure whats going to end up here but if you want to know whats behind those single cryptic sentences I blurt out and dont explain I would imagine this will be your go to place. Enjoy....or dont