He really was sick, but I love the dramatic hand placed across the forehead.

 

 

I found him like this the other morning.  He usually wakes up long before I do.  But I found him lying on the couch, rather than having every single toy he owns gathered around him. I slipped down next to him and quietly asked

 

Hey, buddy, how are you feeling?

 

Not good, not really.  I sick.

 

You don't think you could eat any breakfast?  You're too sick?

 

No.  I can't eat.

 

After laying next to him and watching an episode of SpongeBob, he started to stretch and smile a little more. 

 

 

He said

 

Mommy, guess what?  I feeling better.

 

Oh good! Let's have some oatmeal then.  Sound good?

 

Yes, it'll be the best I ever had.

 

 

 

Caught in a Moment

Is this the cutest little pilot you ever did see?  It has nothing to do with this post, but I couldn't resist...





Finn was playing in his room and I could hear his squeals and screeches as he played Batman.  He was wearing his mask and was lowering his voice to mimic Batman and would then switch to a very high, almost effeminate tone, to play the Joker.

I found myself laying stomach-down on the ivory comforter of my bed.  I was reading a sentence here and there, desperately trying to finish the book I had started that very weekend.  I was determined to finish it--the pile on my night stand of half-read novels was getting too high.  Besides, I had been swallowed up by the characters and couldn't leave them until I knew what happened in the end.

It was right as I read the sentence in which one of the characters in the book died, that Finn joined me on the bed, laying down the same way so the sides of our arms were touching.  He had grabbed a handful of Batman books and, squealing with joy, climbed next to me. 

Although I was engrossed in my book, I felt my senses becoming aware of my surroundings--something I usually tune out when enveloped in words on the page.  I heard the soft whirring of the ceiling fan, the light scratching from Finn turning the pages, as well as his quiet comments, like "The Joker's a dirty criminal."  I felt the comfort of skin from my arm touching Finn's, and became aware I had absentmindedly started moving my fingers across his back as I was reading.  I saw the afternoon sun coming through the bedroom window, softly enhancing shapes and shadows.

As my senses heightened to the moment I was living in, I remembered words from a show I had once heard,

"You know how people talk about the Good Ol' Days?  I wish you could know they were the Good Ol' Days when you were actually in them."

I closed my book, laying still, focusing.  I thought of taking a picture so I wouldn't forget what was happening, but didn't want to disturb anything.  Instead, I  rested my head on his back, my cheek against his shoulder blade, wrapping my arms around him so they were in-between his chest and the bed.

I knew I had been caught up in the story of the dying character, but as I clung to Finn I faced the thought that one day I would not have the opportunity to wrap my arms around him or listen to him happily imagine.

"I love you too mommy," Finn said.

"I'm so glad you know how much I love you," I replied.

I lay there quietly for a few minutes, letting the beauty of our right now consume me.  And then he finished his books, climbed out of bed and life began moving forward again.

“Only once in your life, I truly believe, you find someone who can completely turn your world around. You tell them things that you’ve never shared with another soul and they absorb everything you say and actually want to hear more. You share hopes for the future, dreams that will never come true, goals that were never achieved and the many disappointments life has thrown at you. When something wonderful happens, you can’t wait to tell them about it, knowing they will share in your excitement. They are not embarrassed to cry with you when you are hurting or laugh with you when you make a fool of yourself. Never do they hurt your feelings or make you feel like you are not good enough, but rather they build you up and show you the things about yourself that make you special and even beautiful. There is never any pressure, jealousy or competition but only a quiet calmness when they are around. You can be yourself and not worry about what they will think of you because they love you for who you are.

 

The things that seem insignificant to most people such as a note, song or walk become invaluable treasures kept safe in your heart to cherish forever. Memories of your childhood come back and are so clear and vivid it’s like being young again. Colors seem brighter and more brilliant. Laughter seems part of daily life where before it was infrequent or didn’t exist at all. A phone call or two during the day helps to get you through a long day’s work and always brings a smile to your face. In their presence, there’s no need for continuous conversation, but you find you’re quite content in just having them nearby. Things that never interested you before become fascinating because you know they are important to this person who is so special to you. You think of this person on every occasion and in everything you do. Simple things bring them to mind like a pale blue sky, gentle wind or even a storm cloud on the horizon. You open your heart knowing that there’s a chance it may be broken one day and, in opening your heart, you experience a love and joy that you never dreamed possible. You find that being vulnerable is the only way to allow your heart to feel true pleasure that’s so real it scares you. You find strength in knowing you have a true friend and possibly a soul mate who will remain loyal to the end. Life seems completely different, exciting and worthwhile. Your only hope and security is in knowing that they are a part of your life.”

 

― Bob Marley

Let's all raise a glass--or a glass pipe, if you will, to the late Bob Marley.  A beautiful lyricist and wordsmith. 

Anthem

"There's a crack in everything. That's how the light gets in."

Leonard Cohen







It's easier to be jaded.

It really is.

And cynical. I see it all the time.

Sometimes it's me.



But it isn't an accurate reflection as to what's in my soul. In the deepness of my soul, I feel free. I feel hope. I feel peace. It's only when I'm very connected to myself that I feel all three, but hope is always with me. I've never thrown up my hands and said, "I give up!" I can't quite understand how that occurs without the deepest, hardest, brawl of a fight... and even then... there's still a way. We see people rise up, not despite adversity, but because of it.


I think this is where parenting becomes ridiculously difficult. I know that I can bear a lot. I would gladly take on any struggles my son may incur and load them on my shoulders and carry it for both of us, but we build character through adversity. I've been rescued/saved for most of my life and it's been a curse rather than a blessing because I didn't learn the skills as to how to do that for myself at an age when it would've been easier. Instead, I learned it after I was responsible for another person. And my role in his life is not to protect him from the world and preserve this state of perfection. Oh, that's hard to write because it's not entirely true. I really do want to just let him know he's always safe in my arms. But he's going to see life is more than fairy tales and playtime and cuddling on the couch. In my fantasies of being a mother, I never realized this. I love him so much it hurts.


The last two weeks have been difficult. And I've been a bit of a blubbering mess at times. I've seen several people I care about--friends and family--exhaustively in pain. Physically, mentally, and spiritually. I have sat with them through their pain.


Here are some things I've been thinking:


this: Abuse, in all of its many forms, is so ugly. When it happens to a child the ugly is magnified and compounded, put upon innocence that is too young to be able to comprehend and fully heal from the dark, twisted, and truly evil of the world. Sometimes just the knowledge of the burden that is placed upon abused children can overwhelm my spirit to the point it feels so heavy it aches.

this: I promote therapy. Therapy=good. Finding a good therapist is a blessing. One who can be the vessel to crack the thick, sometimes bullet-proof shell that has been built for years to protect from the ugly and twisted. When the shell is cracked, it can feel like the soul and spirit are going to crack right along with it. But, I promise, it does get better.

this: I am so grateful for those who are willing to be vulnerable, to share their pain with the world unselfishly and without the need for validation, but in the way that others can learn from it, and not feel so alone.

this: Music heals me in the same way the written word does. Much more so than chocolate ever has.

this: I am surrounded by good people.



It seems that, in spite of all the adversity, all the ugliness in the world, there is still so much beauty. There's always something to be grateful for and in which to find meaning.



Anthem

-Leonard Cohen

The birds they sang
At the break of day
Start again
I heard them say
Don't dwell on what
Has passed away
Or what is yet to be.
Ah the wars they will
Be fought again
The holy dove
She will be caught again
Bought and sold
And bought again
The dove is never free.

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.

 

 

.

SAY GET A FAN ONE MORE TIME

 

 

This is just a loving reminder that I have heard the suggestion that perhaps purchasing a fan would drown out and mask the noise from my music admiring apartment buddies upstairs multiple times.  I do appreciate good advice and have considered it.  I've implemented it as well.  It doesn't quite do the trick.  I've become very creative in my methods and I'm doing okay for now. 

 

With Love,

 

Me

 

 

 

 

 

Meh... I'll Do it Tomorrow

I recently listened to a cheerful podcast entitled "The Mental Illness Happy Hour."

It actually is funny at times.  Promise.

This particular episode featured Adam Carrola.  I was impressed with how insightful he can be.  I don't agree with him politically, but he can be very down to earth, practical, and intelligent.  At one point, he was describing how sometimes...somehow... doing the smallest, most simple of tasks seems to require a mountainous effort.  He offered an example by explaining how, for a time, he had left a coffee cup on the floor in the passenger seat of his car.  For months it rolled around and around and annoyed him every time he would drive.  He'd wish for the cup to be gone, but it was just there... annoying him.

His advice? 

Pick up the fucking coffee cup.  Just pick it up.  It may take a Herculean effort, but just do it and then it’s done.  And try to consistently do that in your life.  Of course I can immensely relate to that message and realized what is probably true for everyone:

THERE IS A HORRIBLE, BUT SMALL CHORE IN YOUR LIFE THAT YOU HAVE BEEN PUTTING OFF.

Today, you are going to do it.  You are going to spend that five minutes cleaning that hideous toilet or finally calling your insurance company or whatever it is.  I put this into four easy steps for myself. 

Step 1: Steel myself mentally, physically, and spiritually.

Step 2: Gather the items required to get this thing done.

Step 3: Put on "Closer to Fine" by the Indigo Girls, possibly the single most inspiring and motivating piece of art ever created by humans.  Let its fineness power flow through each cell in my body.  Realize I am so much bigger--and stronger--than your humble roots and nigh impossible odds whatever stupid tiny chore this is. 

Step 4: I now have the strength to do anything.  Re-play Fine if need be and get that shit done.

3 Years of Birthdays!

This year's birthday party was Star Wars themed.  Grandma Carol made Dashiell and you Luke Skywalker outfits.  You wore yours like the sexy little man you are and bare chested it.  I loved seeing your milky white skin peek out from the deep v-neck. 

 

I digress. 

 

Just want to post a few pictures of this party and your family.  

 

 

 

Love your little face in the corner here.  I think you were digging the Yoda face in the grapes.

 

These two kinda made the party a blast.  Clara kept me in order and organized and Liam brought the funk.  He may have had one too many "yoda sodas"...  but who am I to judge?

You were so down to business with unwrapping those presents that this was one of the rare occasions when you smiled.  Awww... that smile...

 

Here's Liam with said Yoda Soda.  That boy don't know when to quit!

 

Clara is always right there to assist you and make you look good. 

 

Back to year two.  We had a Dr. Seuss themed party based on the classic The Lorax.  We talked about those Truffala trees--made out of feather boas--for a long time to come.

Clara helping again... very lucky to have her.

 

 

Like all good parties, this one ended with a kiss.  And I think his hat was on the chandelier... No questions.

 

 

And the first party... I loved this one.  It was based on the book, Where the Wild Things Are and you were dressed as Max--King of the Wild Things.

 

You had NEVER had a sweet like this before and I bought you a gingerbread cupcake with cream cheese frosting on top.  You look pretty giddy with anticipation.

 

 

That's the end for now.  But I can't wait to see where your interests and passions take you for your birthdays to come.