Where did the baby go?

I find that the changing of the school years often says more about my children's growth and progress than even their birthdays.  As I pack them up and send them off on the first day in September, a flurry of first days replays in my mind, and I wonder, who ARE these kids in front of me!?  They are growing up so fast.

Today, I sent my daughter off to 6th grade.  My memories of 6th grade were bittersweet.  I loved my elementary school.  School was always a safe haven for me.  The teachers were wonderful, and my ever thirsty mind was always satisfied within those brick walls.  There was, however, my parents impending divorce, my mother showing up drunk at my 6th grade graduation, and the trepidation of simply becoming a teenager and heading off to junior high. 

As I watched my daughter carefully picking out her clothes, fixing her hair, and packing her lunch, I was reminded of my favorite book as a child.  I must have made my Grandma read it to me until she was hoarse!  I still have the book, its pages are worn and you can see the spot in the front where I wrote my name in that little box in the front cover that is a trademark of Little Golden Books.  The book is the story of a child who finds a picture of a baby wearing a hat, and her mother sends her in search of the baby throughout the house, until, upon gazing into a mirror the girl realizes that she IS the baby, just now grown.  *sigh* How I loved that book.

Remembering that story, I had to ask myself on more than one level, where DID the baby go?

First, where did my own baby daughter go?  Where is that pudgy, curly haired, wide eyed baby who was simply a curious joy?  She always wanted to look and see and touch and do.  In many ways, she still does, but cautiousness from my many warnings to "be careful!" or "watch what you're doing!" have stolen some of that toddler tenacity.  The "cool" factor comes into play now as well - of course it is important to fit in, right?  Straightening her HAIR?  Wasn't she just wearing pigtails and losing her front teeth?  Wasn't she just clinging to my leg at the door of preschool? 

As I pondered those pigtails, I remembered my own.  Not curly and bouncy like my baby girl's, but straight and often crooked, sliding out of my thin hair.  I remember climbing into my Gram's lap in her "big chair" and hearing the familiar creak as she rocked me and read that book again and again.  Where did THAT baby go?  Where did the easy days of reading stories and playing dress up and being taken care of GO?  When did I become the GROWN UP with babies of my own?

As I gaze into the rear view mirror as we back out on the driveway to head to school, I see my daughter's excited, smiling face.  At the same time, I catch a glimpse of my own face staring back at me.  I realized right then, I know where both babies went, and we see it in the reflection in each other's eyes. Just as the little girl in the book said to her mother as she ran into her arms, "I'm right here!"

I'm sensing a theme here!

Even though I fully understand the enormity of the power of the Universe, I am still sometimes dumbfounded when I have an ah-ha moment.  When I FINALLY get the lesson of repeated messages, well, it is like another blogger used to say, it is like a Cosmic 2x4 to the head!

My horoscope today pretty much touches on precisely what I am dealing with at the moment, and echoes what I have written about in my last two blogs.  Sometimes it just finally all comes together.

"Prince or Princess Charming has not yet ridden over the hill top carrying a huge bag of money, and that's not likely to happen any time soon. You are just going to have to pick up your bootstraps and rescue yourself. That may not be the easiest thing, but you are your own best hero."

WHY am I always looking for someone else to save me?  When am I FINALLY going to figure out that I get through whatever I am brought to face?  *I*.  Me.  Yes.  I AM my own best hero.  Since I'm at a loss for words, all I can say is "DUH!" with a huge head slap. 

I posted the poem "The Journey", and yes, it's on my fridge...but I didn't hear the message as clearly until NOW. 

"One day, you finally knew what you had to do...

...and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do --
determined to save
the only life you could save. "

The Back Story

Everyone has a story – the “I am who I am because…”  I am more than aware of mine.  I “get it” about most of my issues.  I know why I’m so type A and such a pleaser.  I am fully in tune with the idiosyncrasies and insecurities ticking away inside of me.  I’m trying to put all of them behind me to live the life of my dreams.  Maybe if I purge it all, spew out the emotional vomit, that might be a start.

There isn’t really a “Once Upon A Time” here, so I’ll dive right in, and try to spare you some of the boring details.

I am the child of an alcoholic mother. Pregnant at 19, she blamed me for “ruining her life.” My father was there, but pretty emotionally detached, as he had his own baggage to deal with (that story is more than another blog, it's a book!)  I saw a lot of things that children shouldn’t have to see, like the inside of bars, friends of my parents smoking pot, and the violent rages of my mother and the altercations between her and my father.  It was truly not a good situation, but I try not to dwell on those dark days.  I am just thankful that I came out alive – and sadly I truly mean that.

My aunt and grandmother had me in their care the majority of the time. They knew the neglect that was happening, but back in the day, it was a different world.  It was much harder to remove a child from those kinds of situations.  I spent weekends with them so my mother could go out and drink. When I was small, this was no issue for my aunt, who was struggling with infertility and welcomed the bonding. My cousin didn't come into the picture until I was 7. My parents finally split when I was 13, and my grandmother was awarded custody. I saw my dad about once a week, and my mother slipped out of the picture and into her own selfishly addicted world. My aunt divorced a year later, and she and my cousin moved in, so my nuclear family consisted of Gram, my aunt, my cousin, and myself.  So there we were, the grandmother and aunt filling the role of mother; the cousin, like a brother.   

I was always pretty independent.  I got good grades in school; I didn’t hang out with the wrong crowd.  My worst offense in all of my high school years was detention for excessive talking. (shocking, I know!!)  I understood very early on that you could make things your excuse, or your reason.  I knew I wanted a life different from my parents.  I knew that some way, somehow, I would overcome what I was born into and create a better existence for myself. 

 Yes, I knew I wanted better, but to what degree?   Life kept happening.  My uncle committed suicide my freshman year of college.  This threw my household into an emotional frenzy.  Suddenly, the “parent” figures in the house had gone off the deep end…and I was pretty much left to fend for myself.  It drove me to seek solace and “normalcy” in the man who is now my ex-husband.  I SO craved a family like his with aunts and uncles and cousins and grandparents and big loud holidays, and I so desperately wanted to be loved, and be someone’s NUMBER ONE.  My own family was fighting its demons, and I just wanted out.

I immersed myself in being HIS someone. I  let my dreams fall to the wayside, thinking that simply being a wife and a mother and being nurturing and domestic would finally reveal the sense of fulfillment I’d been seeking.


Clearly, none of that worked.   Even in knowing I wanted something better, I fell into a romantic relationship much like the one I had with my mother.  I kept thinking that if I loved them enough, they would love me back and give me what I so desperately craved.  WRONG!

After 15 years together, eight of which we spent married, and having three kids, my ex-husband walked out.  Today, I realize what a gift that was, but if you had seen me immediately after, you’d know that I truly thought that I was dying and that I’d never be able to go on.

Well here I am.  I have survived.  I am not a drunk.  I am not a failure. I’m not a bad parent.   There have been far worse heartaches than giving a bad relationship the boot.  Death.  Illness.  Job Loss.  Been there, done that.   I’m still standing.  I’ve gone on…but my Once Upon a Time still hasn’t brought me to a Happily Ever After.   There are still HUGE pieces of the puzzle missing.   I know what they are for the most part, I am just trying to figure out how to get from here to there.

I know that the greatest burden that I have borne through all of life’s struggles is with feeling alone.  I rage against not having a mom I can call when I need a shoulder to cry on or some advice that infuriates me but I know is right anyway.  I find myself frustrated and in tears when there is no one to call when I need help with the kids.  I am exhausted when I am the only grown up in this house and I’m struggling to provide and make decisions for my kids.  I still mourn the literal loss of my Gram, and the absence of the parent/sibling relationships that I so desperately needed with my aunt and my cousin. I can’t wrap my head around my continued singleness, and yes, I wonder when my Prince will come. 

And yet, here I am.  On the days when I want to retreat, or throw my hands up, or just scream…I still DO.   I get the house clean and the bills paid and the kids fed.  I volunteer extensively.  I entertain and spend time with friends.  I have INCREDIBLE relationships with my three children, and with my friends who have become my family.  I have abundant blessings.



WHY THEN, even after all of that, are there still days that I am angry or sad?  HOW can I not feel the sense of accomplishment in all that I have overcome?  Why do I not take pride in what I have created, and credit for all that I do every day?

WHY?  That is the question.  Usually I write and I can find an answer.  By the time I’ve reached the summary, I have a solution to whatever is plaguing me.  Right now, I have no answer.  I don’t know how to fill the emptiness.  I don’t know when I’m going to realize that there is nothing I can’t do, and that I really have a lot to be grateful for of my OWN DOING. 

I do feel better to have put this into words.  It swirls around in my head endlessly.  Maybe now that I’ve tapped away at these keys and let it out, I can move on.

I have more writing to do today.  I am making a list of what I really want.  Today when I write it, there will be no what if’s, maybes, or last times.  It is going to be a list of what I am going to manifest in my life.  I don’t need to decide how, I just need to know what I want.  As I’ve already proven through what I’ve overcome up til now, if it is meant to be, I’ll find a way.  I always do.

Enough already!

I bought one of those Page-A-Day calendars on clearance in January for like $2.37. How could I pass up daily inspiration for $2? It is appropriately called, "Meditations for Women Who Do Too Much." OK, stop laughing. I know you can't teach an old dog new tricks...or can you?
For the days that seem strikingly profound in their 4x4 inch bit of wisdom, of course, it ends up stuck on my fridge. One of them says, "Every day we complete many tasks, and yet we often see only those left undone. Stop to look at all you have accomplished...a meal prepared, a report finished, a phone call made, an issue resolved... When viewed from this perspective, our lives are filled with completed tasks!"

I should feel that way right now. I've had an extremely productive week. Monday was a lot of here and there (and did I mention I ran - ok walked some and ran some - 4.4 miles? Uh...that's another blog!) Tuesday I had my brakes on the car replaced and got groceries. Wednesday I cleaned out the garage. Thursday I went to the bank, washed the car, cleaned off the front and back porches and got out the patio furniture and painted a bench for the back porch. Today I changed the sheets on all of the kids' beds, redeemed cans and bottles for Kayla's Relay team, did about a zillion loads of laundry, planted flowers and weeded around my front flower bed, and got my oil changed. My awesome neighbor mowed the lawn, so I'm good til the rains that are supposed to start tomorrow pass again. In the midst of all of that each day I got the kids to soccer and baseball and talent show rehearsal and dance. Kids were fed, bathed, and school ready and transported wherever they needed to go.

So why, after all of that, do I still feel like I need something more? What is going on with me. When will I feel satisfied? *sigh* I really do feel like I can accomplish more now that I have done all of this. I am sure some of these projects don't sound that daunting, but when you consider that the porches and garage had become unrecognizable, and the weeds had gone rampant after record rains this spring...yeah, it was a lot of work.

Somehow, all I can see is what is left that I still need to do. I want to slap myself.

I know that it takes 21 days to make or break a habit. I'm really only 5 days in. I got so many "big" projects done because every morning I woke up and decided, "THIS is what I am going to do today." Instead of writing a to-do list that covers the front and back of a legal pad sheet of paper, I have been choosing one or two things that I can start and finish in a day. I work them around my other commitments, and at the end of the day, I can actually cross some things OFF my list. It really is amazing. If I can learn to use that process, then I am sure I can learn to give myself credit for what I have done, and allow myself to ENJOY that satisfaction that comes with a job well done.

The to-do list is fine, it helps me to have a starting point to organize my thoughts, but I have put aside thinking that I have to touch EVERYTHING on the list every day, and thinking that I have to get twenty enormous tasks done to feel like I'm worthy.

I also know somewhere in the back of my mind that getting so many things done is only setting me up for future success. Having an organized, comfortable, welcoming home makes so many other things in life easier. I'm more productive when tasks (like a buried back porch or 8 loads of laundry) are kept managable and are addressed in small bits instead of huge chunks. I also know that life flows more smoothly for everyone in my life when I can find what I need when I need it. That goes for the kids as well.

I guess I really am feeling good about where I am headed, and I know I am on a path of change for the better. I just want to be able to sit down at the end of the day satisfied that I have done enough, instead of feeling like I should or could have done more.

Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day; begin it well and serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense.   ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

Smart guy.

When you're down...all that's left is up.

"Sometimes, when you're feeling your lowest, the real you is summoned.

And you understand, maybe for the first time ever, how grand you are, because you discover that vulnerable doesn't mean powerless, scared doesn't mean lacking in beauty, and uncertainty doesn't mean that you're lost. 

These realizations will set you on a journey that will take you far beyond what you used to think of as extraordinary. 

There is always a bright side."

I have had this posted on my fridge for a few years now. I haven't read it, I mean really read it, in a very long time.  Today was the perfect day. 

This was following a friend posting this today as his FB status:  "You may start small, but if you stay faithful, you’re not going to end small. Don't be discouraged in a season of preparation. You’re developing strength, trust and confidence. God's developing a foundation so that He can take you to new heights!"

So many words that keep bouncing around in my head.  The real you.  Vulnerable.  Scared.  Uncertain.  Faith.  Yeah, that last one is the one I am needing most right now.  But we all have to start somewhere, right?

It seems like that I have a million fears and frustrations that are in my way.  It has been a long time since I have felt this vulnerable, scared, and uncertain.  But if I stay faithful, I can get wherever I want to go, right?  Well, I'm determined.

There is so much that I want to get out of my head, but right now, it is enough to admit my fears, and realize that they don't define me.  It is enough to know that every day, in every way, I'm building a new foundation for myself and my family and our future.

I have to stop trying to overcome everything at once, take stock of what I am able to accomplish in a day, and keep focused on the goals I have.  I've been so caught up in the chaos in my mind that I have forgotten that.

Well, that is why I post notes on my fridge, literally, and now through this blog - to remind me of my purpose...and to always look for the bright side.

How to Save A Life

Advance apologies for the ensuing mental vomit - it's chaos in my head, and it has to come out somewhere...

The Journey

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice --
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do --
determined to save
the only life you could save.
~ Mary Oliver ~

This poem is on my fridge.  When I first read it, I was dumbfounded.  I knew that it spoke to me, that it was a message I needed to hear.  In the past few days, I continue to be drawn to it, but the voice is louder now.  It is practically screaming, "Do SOMETHING!" 

I had a conversation with a friend yesterday.  "Why am I stuck?", I asked.  I mean, if my life changes, if things are different - well then, things are just different, so WHAT is stopping me from DOING SOMETHING?? 

Perhaps it is just a giant question of how to define something...well WHAT then?  I have no idea.  Well, I have some idea.  When I have been looking at my life lately, all I see is a big fat "F".  Of the things I dreamed I would have: an education, a loving husband, children, an amazing career, financial security...I have only one - the kids.  But all that keeps weight on me these days is that I NEED all of those other things to give my kids what THEY need so that their dreams can come true. 

Well, that was a fine how do you do.  In just typing that, I figured out what is weighing me down.  It is that enormous pressure that I put on myself to get it right, to not make any more "mistakes", because now, it isn't just about MY dreams.  Their dreams - the dreams of three other human beings - hinge on mine.  It is that crazy ripple effect.  I'm the pebble, but instead of thinking that I'm putting out a tiny flutter across the surface, I feel like any choice I make is going to result in a tsunami.  I have SUCH a mindset of failure that I'm paralyzed by the fear of future failure.  Mental punching bag, anyone?

Well aren't I just an idiot?  We ALL fall down.  We all screw up.  Ups and downs, and around and arounds.  That's life, right?  The roller coaster.  Staying with the water metaphor, it is the ebbs and the flows.  Some of the greatest inventions of our times were accidents.  Some of the greatest people in history failed famously, and publicly.  That's the deal, right?  Try, try, and try again. 

I have to get out of my own stupid way.  I have to DO SOMETHING. I can't just say I want to do something.  I have to listen to that voice, and set out on that journey, because some dreams just WON'T WAIT!

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice --
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,

What I've Learned

There is a magnet in the middle of my fridge.  It says, "In raising my children, I have lost my mind, but found my soul." How true this is.

I had no idea that I could love so deeply.  Sometimes, I swear I'm certifiably insane, and all I can find to explain the crazy is the depth of my love for these three little people who call me, "MOM". 

I always dreamed of finding my true love, of truly being able to say "you are the love of my life."  Only today, in this moment, have I realized that THEY ARE!! There it has been, in front of my face for almost 11 years now.  The three loves of my life are my children.

My first child was due on Mother's Day.  She is my little flower, my springtime gift, and with her birth, a mother was born.  She is everything new and beautiful.  She is my inspiration, and when I look at her I want to be a better person.  In her eyes I see compassion, innocence, and pure love for humanity. 

My second child came in the fall.  He is color and light and a reminder that change is good, it is the only constant there is in life.   He is insightful and sensitive and intuitive.  Despite struggling as the middle child to find his way, his emotions run deeper than either of his siblings.  He is love and perseverance embodied.

My third child was an unexpected Christmas gift.  I knew I wanted a third child, but little did I know that I would get this little piece of perfection that made my family complete so soon.  Born in the cold of winter, he is warmth and happiness and joy.  He always has a kind word, a compliment, or a deep thought to share.  He is charming and smart and a sharp dresser.  He completes a trinity of awesome love that makes me who I am...Mommy.

These three amazing children are so different.  They are their own unique, brilliant, beautiful people.  Yes, they share the same eyes, and they share amazing senses of humor, and to my elation, senses of self.  They share a bond as siblings that I cannot explain, because I have no siblings of my own.  They are each other's best friends, and sometimes worst enemies.  In each other, they learn diplomacy, patience, sharing, negotiation, communication, and their own special kind of love.

I LOVE being a mother.  I love being THEIR mother.  I bake cupcakes for all the holidays and we play with play doh and finger paints and I am on the PTG and volunteer with their sports and clubs.  There is a steady stream of kids visiting our house.  There are toys and books in abundance, and poster frames in the stairwell to display their artwork.  There are signs everywhere that this is a home filled with kids.  I hope that it is as obvious that it is a home filled with love.

I wrote in recent days of wondering what I wanted to do and be...but the reality is, that all that I could ever aspire to do pales in comparision to being a mother.  This IS what I was meant to do, and who I am meant to be.  While they inspire me to pursue greater things, I know that as long as I am loving and nurturing them, I am giving the best of myself to this world.

Today is not about flowers or gifts or cards or meals, it is about pure love and gratitude.  There will never be words to express the depth of the love I feel for them, or the appreciation I have for the amazing gift I have been given in being their Mom.

Happy Mother's Day.  I'm off to try to collect the scattered thoughts in my mind, and hug and kiss and squeeze the living, walking, laughing, breathing pieces of my soul...

I love you, Kayla, Tyler, and Ryan!!