Milestone

Well, we hit a milestone over the weekend. I'm still trying to grapple with my feelings on this one. Julia lost her third tooth in three weeks on Friday. This is huge for her in that she hates losing teeth. In fact, her orthodontist is amazed at how long she can actually keep her loose teeth in her mouth. So we packaged it up, put it in tissue and a small zip lock bag and put it under her pillow. We did all of this for the tooth fairy, even though Julia found out a few months ago that the tooth fairy didn't exist. She stumbled upon a dish of teeth that I had stored in the back of my jewelry cupboard. A sad day for both of us. She cried. I cried.

But this isn't the milestone I'm referring to.

Even though the trauma of the tooth fairy not being real hit hard I still held on to a shred of hope that she would continue to believe in Santa Claus. I've been very careful this year about not mentioning it too much for fear of bringing attention to a subject I wasn't sure I wanted to talk about. We didn't write letters to Santa but instead created a "list". Ben was sure that Santa could see the list at anytime from anywhere so not sending letters was okay. I tried not to use the phrase "Santa is watching" as this was sure to get an eye roll from Julia (most everything does these days). And, I've held off on putting their presents under the tree that I already have wrapped so that it will be evident Christmas morning that Santa came. Because surely I couldn't keep that many presents hidden in this house without someone finding them.

But, it happened. I was tucking Julia in Friday night, tucking the tooth under her pillow for the "tooth fairy" which she now knows is me. She looks at me and says "Mom, I know Santa isn't real". There it was. The sentence I had been dreading ever since the revelation about the tooth fairy. I paused, inhaled and asked in a silly voice "What do you mean he's not real? I believe in him."

"Mom. You don't have to pretend."

"Jules, I'm not pretending. I believe."

She looked at me long and hard. Trying to hide the nervous smile that creeps onto her face when she's dealing with emotions.

"Really?"

"Really."

"Okay" she said with a wink. And that was that. The moment I'd been dreading was done. In 30 seconds it was over. Phew.

Here's what I learned, though. Even though she realizes that Santa isn't real, she also proved to me that she has the ability to pretend he is. And that maybe, just maybe, there is still a little, tiny part of her that does believe. Just like me.

Swine Blues

I'm home today with a sick daughter. This is day number 4 of watching her battle a virus that I'm pretty sure is the dreaded Swine Flu. She doesn't just have a few of the symptoms, she has them all. And although I know that it needs to run its course it has been a very long and trying week.

Our first day home on Tuesday her spirits (and mine) were good. We thought it was just a cold and were secretly excited about being home together for a sick day. This meant movies and snuggling, snacking and jammies, and maybe even a nap. She lounged on the couch while I attended to her every need and enjoyed mothering her. I was able to catch up on laundry and cleaning that never got done over the weekend while she napped and rested.

On Wednesday I was still happy to keep her home. She was feeling better but I thought with all the flu stuff going around it was better to keep her home until she really felt good. She fought me a little, having had enough of "mom time" yesterday. The thought of movies and resting kind of lost its appeal. But she gave in we replayed the roles from the previous day. By the afternoon she had showered and was working on her missed homework that I had picked up for her earlier that day. She was trying to prove to me that she felt better, trying to get me to let her go to an orchestra event that was scheduled for that night. I gave in and agreed that if she felt up to it she could go for part of it. She was happy and feeling better (so I thought). 6:00 o'clock came and I said, "okay Jules, let's do this". She looked up at me from her bean bag chair with tears streaming down her face and said "I don't feel good". She'd been fighting it all day, putting on a brave face and trying to tell herself she felt fine. She had fooled me but now it was obvious she couldn't do it any more.

Here we are now, still sick. Doctor's appointment today but I know in my mind what they will say. "It needs to run its course". This is by far one of the hardest jobs as a mom. I am exhausted just watching her go through this. I'm angry at myself for those few times in the last couple days that I gritted my teeth when she asked for something, for the twelth time in an hour. I am craving a normal day-her going to school, me going to work and feeling like I've accomplished something. But most of all, I miss my happy little girl. I want her to feel better.

Tough Day

You know those days that creep on you, when your emotions simply take over and you lose all control and composure? It happened to me yesterday, a compilation of many issues that lead to a complete breakdown. I couldn't have controlled it if I wanted to. The timing was completely wrong. I was trying to get ready for a night out with my husband, a new babysitter had just arrived and I was trying to get dinner on the table before we left. The phone rings and in ten minutes I'm a puddle. As I watched the room around me blur from my tears, I tried without success to stifle my sobs. This had, however, been building from weeks of stress and an emotional roller coaster. And I had opened the flood gates. So I let it out.

After a little while I hear a very soft murmur of my name. "Mama?". I tried to hide my face but it was too late. Julia had come in to get something and seeing me crying she was instantly afraid. "Mama, what's wrong?". I couldn't even speak. So she held me and I let it out. She patted my hair and stroked my cheek. She wiped my tears and told me that everything was going to be okay.

When did my little girl become so grown up? In that moment our roles were reversed. Her holding me while a cried as if my heart was broken, reminding me of all the times when I had simply held her and let her cry it out. It was just what I needed and as her little girl arms encircled me I felt a little peace and the sadness subsided. I knew she was there for me and it was exactly what I needed.

I am so grateful for my Julia. My little girl. My grown up girl. My girl.

High Ropes

You know that feeling you get when you're high above everything? Whether it's at the top of a long climb and your looking at the view, or your taking off in a plane and are watching as things down below get smaller and smaller or even when you reach the top of the stairs and you turn around to look at something down below? You know that feeling... kind of a twinkle in your belly, a lightheadedness?

Well I experienced that today at the high ropes course at Double H Ranch in Lake Luzerne.  I have spent the last week volunteering as a nurse at this wonderful camp for children with life threatening illnesses.  Some are wheelchair bound due to their illness while others have illnesses that allow them to be up and walking around like the rest of us.  Today it didn't matter which category the kids were in-they all went on the high ropes course. The wheelchair kids were removed from their chairs and placed in seats with ropes and carabeaners already attached.  They were hoisted and guided up and into harnesses made especially for their seats.  They were attached to the zip line and sent soaring through the air like eagles, flying and weightless.  Peels of laughter and screams of joy could be heard throughout the forest as could the cheers from their fellow campers down below.

So that feeling, that "flying" feeling... I felt that today, only me feet were still firmly planted on the ground.  I felt it though, just by watching these kids fly!  I will remember it always...

Packing

So, today I leave for Double H Ranch up in Lake Luzerne for a week of volunteering. When I signed up (back in February) I was very excited and couldn't wait for the week to get here. This past week has been filled with more excitement and some anxiety about what to expect when I get there. However, the main focus has been on the incredible amount of packing.

I have been stressing about how many items are on the "what to pack" list so graciously sent to me by the Ranch. Not only did I receive one but I got one for both of my kids, who will also be attending for a week (a awesome perk for volunteers). I have been frantically running around making sure that we all had enough warm weather clothes, cold weather clothes, bathing suits, towels, etc. We shopped into the night last night for small shampoo and conditioner containers, mini soaps, hair bands, flashlights and batteries. And I have spent hours doing laundry to ensure that all the right blankets, sheets and pillows were clean and ready for our journey. All this while I have been fretting... "Did I forget anything?", "Did I pack enough"? "What if it rains the whole time?" (not a far stretch considering the summer we've had). "Will the kids be warm enough with the blankets I packed?".

Wham! It hit me.

While I'm "stressing" about the everyday items I need to pack, the other parents with kids going to the Ranch are hoping they've packed enough syringes and medicines. Enough inhalers and trach supplies. Enough bandages and catheters. You see this isn't just an ordinary summer camp. This is Double H Ranch, a camp for kids with life threatening illnesses. Other parents would probably give anything to have the simple stresses of packing that I have. So I will not stress any more about what did or didn't get packed. I will simply let this week at the Ranch adjust my perspective, fill me with joy and be grateful for my healthy children.

The Last Day

We will experience that "last day" feelings many times in our lives.

The last day being single before we become one of a pair.

The last day in an apartment before making the move to your first house.

The last day of being just a couple before welcoming your first child.

Simple things like the last day of a good sale or the last day to sign up the kids for little league.

But there is no feeling quite like your kids last day of school.  The anticipation builds for what feels like months, but is really only weeks.  Every task at school revolves around the "last day". Plans are laid with the "last day" in mind.  There are parties to celebrate and celebrations to commemorate.  There are chorus concerts and orchestra concerts and the last baseball games of the season.   There are final tests and cramming of math facts.  There are half days, that let's be honest, are more like thirds of a day, with dismissal mid morning.

As the bus rolled up I could hear the cheering.  Kids were laughing and giggling with the anticipation of the upcoming summer.  Kim, the bus driver, honked her horn in a symphony of sound, celebrating herself another good year and giving the kids Popsicles as they departed one last time.  The kids got off and as the bus rolled away there were tears in my eyes as I realized this was the last day I'd have a 6th grader and a 3rd grader.  The last day I'd have a child in elementary school.  The last day of another year that went by way too fast.

Holding Hands

We went to Lake Placid over the weekend.  A spur of the moment family getaway.  After it was booked I contemplated canceling it.  It seemed like a good idea at the the time but did I really want to pack and get someone to watch the dog and put off the laundry and house cleaning... My daughter was excited at first but as the weekend drew near other opportunities for fun with her friends were lurking.  She was good about it and I could tell that there was part of her that wanted to be excited about going away with her family and part of her that wanted to be the typical tween and complain about it.  In any event, we went.

The resort was fantastic.  An indoor pool, a heated outdoor pool, fishing for the boys & shopping for the girls.  It would be hard for a kid not to have fun and still I wondered - was Julia happy to be here or did she wish she was home?  Two years ago or even a year ago I wouldn't have had a moments hesitation that she'd be completely happy to be there.  But as I navigate these emotional tween years I'm not sure about anything when it comes to Julia.

Saturday night we decided to go to the movies in the old theatre on the Main street.  Since we couldn't come to a consensus on what movie we all wanted to see, we split up-the boys went to see "The Terminator" and Julia and I opted for Disney's "Up".  We found a seat near the front and watched as several groups of kids, a lot of them Julia's age, gathered in groups.  Again I couldn't help thinking to myself  that she wished she was with her friends and not her Mom.  The lights dimmed and the movie started and then something completely unexpected happened.  She reached over and took my hand.  My soon-to-be-twelve-year-old was holding my hand in a public place.  

I was stunned.  I was shocked.  But most importantly I was unbelievably thankful.  I will cherish that time and hold onto it forever.  She is still my little girl.

Waiting

Waiting in line at the grocery store can be painful. Shifting your weight. Glancing at the person in front of you. Is she really writing a check? God, why is she buying so much toilet paper? Did I get everything on my list? Jeez, what's taking so long?

Waiting for the Julia to get her school stuff together can be excruciating.

"Julia, you got everything?"
"Yes, Mom."
"Do you have gym today?"
"Oh, crap, I need to get some clothes. Hold on."
"Julia, we only have 3 minutes til the bus comes!"
"I'm getting them right now!"

Sigh. Deep breath.

Why does it seem like I'm always waiting? Waiting for the dog to go to the bathroom before we go to bed. Waiting for Ben to brush his teeth. Waiting for the accountant to tell us what we owe. Waiting for Derek to turn off the sprinklers. Waiting for the light to turn green.

Waiting for results on a repeat, abnormal mammogram... somehow makes all the other stuff seem not so bad.

Mothers Day

I was on Twitter this morning and read a post from a friend that read "Mother's Day is weird."  At first I thought how can she think Mother's Day is weird? I mean, come on, it's Mother's Day.  The day we are celebrated for all the great things we do as moms.  The day we don't have to do anything.  We can just sit and eat chocolates and watch movies.  N0 laundry or dishes. No cleaning the bathrooms. No grocery shopping.

But the more I think about my day yesterday the more I got to thinking it is actually a little weird.  Don't get me wrong, I absolutely loved my day yesterday.  Morning snuggles with all four of us in one bed.  Homemade breakfast instead of my usual wheat toast. Hand made gifts from the kids with hand written cards.  Flowers from Derek. A great day for sure.  

But I'm lucky because often I get these same things on an ordinary Saturday. I'm blessed that my husband and children appreciate me every day.  Derek will give me flowers for no reason.  Ben will crawl into bed with me and just snuggle, rubbing my cheeks and saying "I love you, Mommy".  Julia will share a secret with me and we will both be content in knowing that I'll keep that secret, forever. These are "mothers days" to me.  Each day has a "mothers moment" for me.  Sometimes I have to stand back to see what that moment was.  But it's always there.

The laundry and shopping, cleaning and cooking, homework and basebell practice...it's part of who I am and what I do.  I love being a Mom.  I love being Julia and Ben's mom.  I don't need a single day to know that I am loved and appreciated.  I feel it every day.

Texting with my daughter

If you had asked me a year ago about my thoughts on texting I think it would be completely different than my thoughts on it now.  "My daughter will never have a cell phone for texting"....I believe those words came out of my mouth.  Many conversations with my husband about other parents who allowed their children to have phones and how we weren't going to be like that.  Like many things along the parenting trail we didn't exactly follow through with those good intentions.  

I was the first to cave.  When you have a tweenage daughter it's hard to not want to be on their "good side".  There's a fine line between the parent and friend relationships, a line that can shift on a daily basis.  So we started with a pay-as-you-go phone, one she had to earn money to keep minutes on it.  I was happy to see that once the newness of having a phone wore off it was rarely used.  That was 5th grade. 

Here we are in 6th grade, the dreaded middle school, and the minutes have long since expired on the pay-as-you-go phone.  So the question comes and I am completely caught off guard.  "Mom, can I get a phone, a real phone?  All of my friends have them and it would help me stay in contact with you".  True?  I wasn't so sure but, with the support of my Mom (the indulgent Grammy) we went ahead and got the phone.  My husband had doubts and I was desperately trying to feel good about siding with my daughter on this one.

The texting she did was fascinating to me and believe it or not half of the texts were to me.  We are continuing to navigate this new world and so far she has proven to be very responsible with it.

Here is the whole reason for this entry.  Yesterday, my phone vibrates-I have a new text.  It's from my daughter.  "I got a hug today from a boy".  I stare at the phone.  Did she really just confide in me via text?  As I sort through what my response should be a second text comes through. "He's really cute".  My not-so-nimble fingers struggle to get a message typed, but I do. "Does he have a girlfriend?".  I wait...was that the right thing to say?  Before I have enough time to question myself a response appears. "No. But I really like him".  I reply, a little quicker this time, "Take it slow-make him work for it".   pause.  send. wait.  "Of course.  Why would I make it easy?".

Texting with my daughter.  Having conversations.  Communicating.  Talking about boys.  Who would have thought?

Brothers

I had the opportunity to spend a day with my brother today, something that in years past would have terrified me.  What would I say?  Did we have anything in common to talk about?  Would we be able to get past "the past"?  

I was oblivious, growing up, that I was treated any differently by my parents.  My brothers, 5 and 7 years older than me, always seemed to be at different life stages than me.  They were in high school and I was still struggling through puberty.  I made it to high school and they were off to college.  I graduated college, started a family and had children-they were still single and living life.  It wasn't until they both got married and did not ask me to be in their weddings that I finally realized my relationship with both of them was close to being nonexistent.  Seems petty, I know, to feel hurt that I was not included in the wedding party but I'm sentimental like that.  They were the first on my "whose in the wedding party" list so I guess I just assumed I'd be on theirs as well.  Lots of champagne and tears helped me get through both weddings.

Fast forward a few years.  They are both married and both have kids.  In the past year we have made great strides in our relationships, realizing that family is extremely important to all of us.  There have been rough spots, but as we navigate through them we seem to be growing closer each and every day.  My kids love spending time with their cousins and I am enjoying getting to know my brothers again.

Today I spent the day with my brother and it was a great day.

Tax Time

Nothing can bring on fear and anxiety to a person like tax time. As the owners of a small business we have become quite aware of how unsettling our lives can become around tax time. No matter how prepared we feel we are it seems that we always come up short. There has never been a scenario that "oops, you've paid in way too much and we're going to send it back". Anytime an overpayment has occurred it's "a good thing" as our accountant puts it because we ARE going to owe in the months to come. It seems silly to complain about-it's not going to change. However, as I sat with our accountant today I was humbled by the fact that although taxes are scary, our business is flourishing and we are able to continue to do what we love...at least for now.

First Timer

It's taken a long time to get to this point. I'll admit that I'm afraid of blogging or at least I was until this very moment in time. Wondered about it, sure. Thought is was a passing thing, absolutely. Feel like I might enjoy it, maybe. Honestly though, the idea of putting myself out there for anyone to see is scary. Maybe even more scary is putting a finger on 'myself', being able to write honestly without putting up any fronts. I am just now learning how to be myself-mom, wife, daughter, friend, sister, coworker-and find it can be challenging to find some sense of self when the day is done. I try to give anything I do my all but at the end of the day just giving it something can be a challenge.

So this is me in a nutshell. Married to a wonderful man that I met in college for 16 years. Two beautiful children-Julia, independent but a hand holder (as long as we aren't in public) at 11 and Ben-my sweet boy at 9. Living on 27 acres that we bought from my parents on the side of a mountain in the town I grew up in. Working for a company that my husband and I have helped create over the past 5 years. Patching up my relationships with my brothers after many rocky years. Discovering how to live in the moment.

Gosh, it all sounds so perfect, very Normal Rockwell. However, I can assure you that it is not all peaches and cream. There are so many things that have gotten me to where I am right now, just outside a doorway that leads to great things, just about to take the step. Am I scared-absolutely. But excited at the same time. Let's just see how it goes, shall we?