And so it goes..

Ok so the Oldest has his eyes closed, but here he is as Jack Sparrow. The Littlest; he's Tigger of course. He was a spitfire. He caught on right away to the whole Halloween and Trick or Treating concept. Lots of fun. Grammy and Grandpa came over and Grammy walked with us.

The night was peppered with bouts from the Littlest of tummy trouble but he finally worked that out. Poor thing. He was more aware this year of course than last year. Made it more fun the two of them together, going to the doors together and the Littlest with his loud "Trick Or Treat" and "hank you" when they put something in his bag. Priceless. Memories.

J

-J

DinnerTime Fun

There's this new game I got that we've all been enjoying thoroughly at dinner time. It's a game called Conversations To Go. It has produced many great conversations and thoughts to questions we think we know the answers to (or what the others might say) but then we get surprised. Great game. The Oldest loves it. He sets the table and puts it on the table as if it's a bowl of food that we're getting ready to consume. It's now a part of the dinner table. I can't help but think it does a great little job of bringing us all a little closer, as if that were possible, I guess it is. I see my husband reaching for the questions when it's his turn, he's actively engaged and as I often say (stole from Dr. Phil), he's definitely 'plugged in' more so now for dinner.

One of the questions was, "What do you feel the most rich with?" and the Oldest went first, he said quite simply, "love". Hmm. Then we all took our turns, ours were a little bit more profoundly said as adults would but same basic answer. Then another question, "When you get home from work or school, what do you really want to do?" and the Oldest said all this..."I want to vacuum and dust and do the dishes and..." and I laughed OUT LOUD pretty hard and said, "ok now, your REAL answer please (little brown noser stinker). And he defiantly said, "That IS my real answer!" Right! So I asked it a different way, I asked him, "What do you want to do when you get home from school that's fun that YOU really want to do for yourself?" then the smile spreads on his face. "Ohhhhh.....I want to play games and go outside to play with no homework!" Now THAT's what I'm talking about. Chores schmores. Who wants to do those anyway, let alone an eight year old kid. Gotta hand it to him though, he does know all the right things to say. Watch out girls.

Try the game. It's fun. Only $12. Totally worth it.

---Jenn

Halloween

After all is said and done the boys are going to be Tigger (not Thomas sadly but Tigger is cute too) and Jack Sparrow. Phew. Now let the day come and go so we can move on with the Holidays. Eh? Great attitude huh? Don't need the candy anyway. Just call me the Halloween scrooge right about now. I don't feel prepared at all. Don't even have the candy. Probably will buy it that day....

Bring it. Lets go.

I'm Going In; Part II

So it is done. I am now the Queen of the Garage. Eight full hours of that schmack. Fighting over little circle discs that have zero meaning. Arguing over empty boxes. Lots of quiet time. Thank God for the music from the IHome. The van is in the garage. There are full sweeping aisles on both sides of the van. Things are organized. There is a truck full to the hilt out front of crap that needed to be thrown out and my sister in law and I both made a trip in our separate cars to the Salvation Army of stuff that others could use.

Today I was embarrassed, humiliated, and exhausted. I was angry and let out quite a few outbursts but in the end, our garage is now presentable to both us and the outside world (should anyone dare to ever peek in). At some point I was having a cathartic feeling come over me. And as I was reading over the first letter I ever wrote my honey on October 20, 1990 (yes I found the first note I ever wrote him) and as I read a letter the Oldest wrote to Lucas a long time ago and cried tears, I realized, yes almost 100% of this stuff is crap, junk, not worth a dime but these few morsels I've come across are worth ten thousand tons of gold. So there. It's done and if it kills me, it will never and I mean never, never never ever get like that again.

The End; fur real.

PS see my girl over in the right. She is the Queen of her Garage in webland. I am the Queen of mine if real land. ;) I love her gown. Donchew?

I'm Going In...

Ok. Tomorrow is offically D Day. I have a plan and I have enlisted help from my fabulous sister in law. I know that if someone called on me to help them with a garage such as ours, I would really really really have to dig deep to even consider saying yes. This is a job I absolutely do NOT want to do. However, it must be done. So done it will be.

Two things:

That picture is NOT our garage.

But it could be; just spin a little imagination and move a few things around and walla. It could be our garage.

So wish us luck. We're starting bright and early. I forgot to get the gloves from the dollar store. Dang it. I'm making a trip out when they open (later on Sunday). There are MICE out there! UGH and double UGH UGH.

See my dirty garage girl over to the right? Send some organizing angels my way in your thoughts kay? I'm making three piles (and they'll be BIG). One for trash, one for maybes and one for keeps. At the end of getting it all outside, we'll go through the maybes and see what we are throwing away from there. The goal: Get one car in that freakin' two car garage if it kills me. I'm not even daring to hope for both cars in there. I've got my battle armor on and I'm ready to duke it out with my husband.

He who not want to throw away get big bonk on head.

When I come out on the other side, I'll let you know how it all went down. Peace Out Yo.

J

Gotta Love It

So. We went for a quick Italian dinner on Thursday night. No big right? Right. Our pizza is served to the table, seemed like it took too long but I'd had a long day and a headache and had no desire to be anywhere near a kitchen so who was I to complain? No one. Pizza comes. We get the boys in order, cut the Littlest' pizza, he decides he really just wants crackers (great). I'm halfway through my first and what ended up being my only piece when I hear it. The choke. Not even a gag. Just a small choke. I knew what was coming even before I could react. As I'm reaching over to help the Littlest I instinctively hold my hand in a cupped fashion in front of his mouth and the best gift in the world is given to me. V.O.M.I.T. In the busy little restaurant, yep. With people all around us. And that was just the beginning. I grab his little arm and as my eyes brush past my honey's eyes, I know, I can feel darts of embarassment coming my way. He's not mad I see but just wants to disappear. He's concerned for the Littlest and trying to help but very much wanting to go into the wall like a ghost. I get the Littlest to the ground to rush him to the bathroom and as soon as his feet hit the ground, BAM! Ten times more the volume that came out the first time comes flooding out of his little mouth all over the floor. I'm SURE people who were eating were DONE by now....but I kept my eyes on the ground and the Littlest and we hustled off, vomit all over our legs and shoes and diaper bag and of course, leaving the puddles on the floor behind us for Daddy to clean up. I get him to the bathroom and once again and worst of all, vomit times three A.L.L. O.V.E.R. T.H.E. B.A.T.H.R.O.O.M. floor. Everywhere. And you know, I'm thinking to myself as my head throbbed bigger than the bathroom we were in, suddenly I feel like vomitting. ..........All I wanted to do was go get a quick dinner, and crash into a puddle when we got home. It's pure 100% in your face here take that and then take that and how about that. It's a test to see what your fortitude level is. Mine is high. I could have gotten upset. I could have maybe even cried. I could have cussed. Why though? He's just a little one. He didn't do it on purpose. You know, you go into robot mode. I cleaned that baby up and I told him to stand in one place and not move (and miraculously he didn't move; thank you God for that small gesture) and I cleaned that bathroom floor three times till it shined. You could still smell remnants of you know, puke, but um, it was one dang clean floor. Probably cleaner than when we opened the door and he lost his 'cookies' so to speak all over it.

Then a small knock on the door. A meek one. ?? What in the world? Do people knock on public bathroom doors? It's my honey. He looks fragile. But he hands me the diaper bag in case I need it. He had been on all fours in the middle of that restaurant cleaning up that carpet where he got sick. So both of us doing the same thing, and probably the Oldest sitting there (I imagine, I never asked but I imagine) blissfully eating his pizza. I told him I was going to come out, gather my purse and take the Littlest home. Great idea he said, we'll get the pizza box and get the h*** out of here. Ya think? So one minute later, I'm leaving the bathroom with the baby and I run into a little old lady (and she was rather short so 'little' is quite appropriate) and I say guiltily to her, "I'm so sorry, you might not want to go in there, he just got sick all over the floor and although it's a very clean floor now, the smell is not the best." To which she quickly replied and herin lies the lesson of the day, "Oh honey, if you think that's the first time I've smelled something like that, you've got another thing coming, don't you worry about it. He didn't do it on purpose did he? That's what I thought, he didn't do it on purpose and look how cute he is and look at that little baseball on his shirt and my look at those eyes....blah blah blah" but then she says, "Honey, it's gonna be alright you hear me?" and at that moment, for whatever reason, I just needed to hear that. From my day (really the week but the day was the culmination) to that little vomit fest, I just needed to hear someone say that. I didn't know I did, but I did. And it almost brought tears to my eyes because then I realized her husband had walked back with her to the bathroom and they had been holding hands. Just two older people still holding hands. And somehow it came full circle. Probably doesn't make sense that it did but there was wisdom and love standing in front of me and she was still rambling, trying to get the undivided attention of the Littlest and as I thanked her and bustled away, it hit me that 'yeah, that's what it's all about. understanding, love and wisdom. throw whatever at me, I've got it covered.'

Make sense or not, ya gotta love that. When we were all home together, we got home first, him and the Oldest second, my honey said to me, "wouldn't it have been better to stay at home and eat?" and I said, "they're kids, this is life, be thankful." He just looked at me with solid surprise but then it turned to love and quietly we both just knew. We are NOT complaining.

The End.

Fall Is Here!

It's like a new breath of fresh air; fall. Why is it when a new season arrives it's invigorating. Then it gets old pretty fast and you are yearning for the next season. Wishing life away. You'd think I'd have learned better than that....

Don't you love that plant? It's gorgeous. It just says FALL in big neon letters. See it? Kay. Cause I do. Just checking.

Jenn

Broken pacy; broken heart

Someone just rip my heart out now. Holy Mac. I've been trying to get up the nerve to take the Littlest' pacy away for two solid weeks. Like I've been on the cutting edge of taking it away but just couldn't do it to him. Today before nap I almost just got up and cut the tip off. Again; couldn't do it. It's an internal battle. I see how it soothes him but then again, he naps at school without it so I know he can do it.

Tonight after bath, his Daddy said, "Ok Littlest, no more pacy right?" and I literally took the pacy went into the bathroom like a robot and cut the tip off. Never said a word to anyone, just did it fast so I wouldn't talk myself out of it. I went back into his room and showed my honey, and he about fell over. I gave it to the Littlest and he put it in his mouth and immediately spit it out like it was a disease. He said, "it's broken" with a very worried look on his face. I wasn't sure what his reaction would be but I didn't think it'd be that. He walked out of his room and said, "I take it to the oda (other) room" and we followed him over there as he set it on the ground. Hmm. Ok I thought, this is going to be easier than I thought. Ha! Think again.

Um try I've been trying to get him to sleep for the last hour. He's very worried about his pacy. I was rocking him trying to get him to fall asleep without it and he looked at me in the dark and said, "Pacy's broken, what happened?" He is VERY worried. I almost starting crying. You know what I told him? I told him "maybe it got broken at the State Fair" in a barely audible whisper he says, "yah" and looked away as he played with his lip. Oh boy.

What have I done? I can't find this pacy anywhere anymore. I am actually contemplating going out to find one right now. But he's particular, it can't just be any pacy. I've tried others when I was in a bind; he rejects them on sight. Must be HIS pacy. And now HIS pacy is "broken". He seems so sad. He NEVER stands up in his crib and cries out. He always goes right to sleep. With his pacy. Now?

I feel absolutely horrible but I know, at two years old, he SHOULD be done with his pacy. Tell me this is just going to be bad tonight and tomorrow night. Someone tell me this. Lie to me. Ok, don't lie to me. Just lie to me. ...big sigh...

Jenn

Baseball Bat

When life hits you in the head with a baseball bat, swing back and say 'take that'. If you just accept the hit it just gave you without so much as a reaction, you deserve what you get!

Whine Friday

Enjoying wine together. No whine tonight though; just wine. Forgot to post this earlier. Took my lead from Tamm. I've actually already had my first glass....(oops). Salud!

-J

True Friends Part II

I think some folks have too many friends and it turns out they are not true ones. Maybe that is my very twisted spin on things, and I fully agree, it probably is. Maybe I've been burned too many times, or maybe I just see others going through ridiculous things and I think, not for me. I have too much already.

A true friend I think is someone you can say anything to with no boundaries. Just say it with ease. Someone you can get into a disagreement with and later discuss and move on. Someone with no judgment towards you or others. And most important of all, someone you can absolutely trust and you just know innately, you don't even have to say, "Don't say anything to anyone", you know it'll go no further.

There's no he said she said in a true friendship, there's no hushed gossipping or having to keep up with what you said or they said. AND best of all, doesn't matter how long you haven't talked, you pick right back up, you talk a mile a minute and even after you are away from each other you think, "dang, I meant to say this or that" like there wasn't enough time to talk about it all.

When I love, I love hard, when I trust, I trust hard. When those things are broken, I am done. I have tried to be different, to change, to improve on those things, to be more forgiving, but I can't. It is who I am, I am what I am.

All this spurred on by a memory of something from my past. A person. Who turned out a little nutty. This little memory made me think about all the things I value in my friends. And why I am the way I am. So my mind has been spinning, churning, and that's how it goes with me.

Friends

Are true friendships supposed to go wrong? Like wrong to the point of no return? What do you think? Maybe if it was a true friendship, it wouldn't have gone wrong? Do you have a lot of friends? True ones? That you can count on through thick and thin?

I am thinking..

Gnats. Drats. Rats.

OMG. Is anyone else having trouble with gnats in their house? It.is.driving.me.crazy. Holy Guac. And they won't die! You can swat at them and they disappear, they aren't that fast, what gives?

I'm not the only one. I'm not. Here, locally, lots of people have the same problem. For a while I thought they were IN me. Don't laugh. It seemed like everywhere I went, they were around me. I was thinking, what the heck, are they in my ears or something?

COS. What is an uberneighborhood? Someone school me. I am oh so ignorant. Clearly. And MORE ignorant on how to get rid of gnats. We don't have a dead anything in our house. We don't. What in the world?

--ugh.
Jenn

Sick Boy

The Oldest is never sick. Like never. But today, got a call from the school nurse and whammo, he's got a 102.7 temperature. Just like that. Throat hurts, he feels weak, and he was cold under the covers last night. Hmmm. I did ignore that last one, thought he was just trying to get attention. Hey, he's always healthy! I didn't believe him! Cut me some slack. My eyes are wide open now! I get it; he's sick!

So sick that he's deleriously talking about living in Colorado for 107 years. He won't stop talking. ?? Incessant. Non stop.

We're going to the Ped. 4:00. We're off. Poor thing. AND he told me I'm the best mom in the world (kay then I KNEW he was delerious) for leaving work to come get him from school. He actually said, "of all the 30% of the moms in the world you are 100% the best." eh? I guess he's only measuring me against 30% of the mom's in the world? See? He's delerious. Told ya. Then he got teary eyed because he was going to miss school tomorrow. They are doing something special in their class with the principal and he's missing it tomorrow. He made me email the teacher and ask if they'd do something like that again and to tell her sorry he wouldn't be there (?). Good Heavens.

It's probably just a virus. Lets hope. Now he's singing. Just laying there watching TV (he won't take a nap) singing. Oy.

Sunshine

The sun is shining today; very bright. It will be a good day.

Happy Birthday

Your Daddy, your brother, the Oldest, and myself in all our days will never forget you. And we will do our level best so that the Littlest will know you as best he can for having never met you.

Happy Birthday Little Boy Blue. On this day and always, I think of you, miss you, and love you. I hope you are getting to have a party today, singing and dancing and kisses floating all around you since we can't be there to hug you. All of us, your Aunties, your Grammy, Granpa, Lola, all miss you very much. We will be planting a butterfly bush for you very soon. Just for you. Bring lots of butterflies, ok buddy?

Love you forever and ever.
Mamma.

The Gift of Common Sense

The Oldest wanted to get a shirt he saw in a store today that said, "I go to school for the girls" (btw do you believe in those sassy shirts? I did get him one in the summer that says "Excuses why I didn't go to school today" and he is NOT allowed to wear it to school.). Hmmm.

So when he threw mulch at a little girl the other day and finally admitted to me that he did it to get her attention......I'm to think what? That he's eight and should know better? Of course I think THAT! That the teacher is getting a false sense of who he is, that he's really a good kid making silly wrong decisions? Sure I think that too. But what else.....

At the tail end of a rough two weeks with him in school, I'm to think what? Can someone send me a box of common sense with a big bow on it?

When I think back to the stuff that he got in trouble for in first grade, then second grade and now this year so far, they have all, almost all (the worms, the calling the little girls' mom ugly last year, this mulch thing last week) have to do with girls. He gets full blame, responsibility, sure he does. When he said he wanted that shirt, it all came full circle. With that mischeivious grin on his face, I knew then, we're in trouble. With all I have, we will make sure this wonderful boy will stay on the right track, not get off on the wrong track. But be warned...all mom's of girls, watch out, these boys, they worry about girls way too early. I told him that. He wanted her attention so he threw mulch at her? Great way to get someone's attention. Hey let me blind you for life (he didn't of course) notice me now? Common sense. Send it please. Thanks.

Jenn

My Angels on Earth.

He's growing up so so fast. I look at him and think, really, you're that tall? And you are that smart? Yes, I guess he is.

Get his shirt? Get it? He's too much. Handful of love and fun and run run run.

Grief or Not?

Lots of times I write in my head. I could be doing something, get distracted and off I go, silently, mentally writing in my head. I could be driving or cooking, or eating dinner, doesn't matter. Other times, I have entire conversations in my head. Like the other person is there, in my head, or invisibly in front of me and we have entire conversations. Does this mean I'm crazy? I think it does.

You know it's bad when you are taking a shower and half way through, even as a surprise to your own spirit and conciousness, you let out a wail, and start sobbing. Why am I crying? No real reason to cry anymore, what is going on? Sure it could be the obvious residual sadness and time of year but I'm not sure it's that. It could be a fraction of the equation, I suppose. I suppose it could. But I'm not sure it is. Maybe that's the problem. I don't know why I'm feeling this way. Imagining I'm in front of the therapist I used to go to, I decide to let it all out. And thank God I'm home alone, because, really, I'm sure the boys would have been alarmed to hear me. Falling into a ball on the floor of the shower and letting it all drain away can be cathartic. Watching the tears meld with the falling water from the shower head above is in a way healing, it's like watching the emotions of your life blend together with the racing minutes, hours, and days, of the real world, all coming together whether you want them to or not. It's kind of like adding salt and sugar, or lime and orange--and knowing the combination is ok. That it is going to be OK. It actually IS ok now. But still the reality is that the tears are there and they are real. Laying naked with the water beating down on my back while I am curled into a ball sobbing my guts out is so real. Therapist used to say, cry privately, no more in front of your Oldest. It's confusing for him, he doesn't understand. I got it the first time she said it. My God, we tell him that Lucas is in Heaven and it's a good place, he is with God, safe, and happy, and not sick or hurting from all the needles and being cut open constantly to save his heart or his lungs or his kidneys, no more silent tears running down his face as he lay anesthetized (and if this didn't kill me then, it surely kills me now as I remember it). So we say he's ok, he's in Heaven, yet I cry. To the Oldest (mainly back then when this was all fresh and new) he was mixed up, wondering why the contradiction. Mom if he's ok, why are you still crying? These are things you have to address when you have a child old enough to talk and think and process some microlevel of death, and the death of a sibling at that.

I digress; as per the norm.

My mood, my tears, my low energy this week, last week, mostly this week, not sure, but there is a lot going on, other than even memories or sadness. So it's all congealing, slamming together and forming this whatever in me. I'm not sure what it all is, maybe some home stuff, some me stuff, maybe a little Lucas stuff, definitely some unknown stuff. Is that a protective mechanism within my self to pretend I don't know what it is? I don't even know that. I really don't. I know writing about it helps immensely. So you get the brunt of it; those who dare haunt here, you get it all. I serve it up and offer it to whoever of you are there. It's all I have sometimes. Material things? Whatever. That's nothing. Yes, I love new things, I love having nice things and there are lots I want and don't have, so whatever, whatever to material things. I have them but they don't matter in the end. When I think of what I truly have, have come to posess in this life it has nothing to do with what is in our home. The inanimate objects are exactly that. Nothing that can talk back to me or give love or laughter. Oh you can see I'm all over the place. Yes, I must admit, I have been, to the farthest extremes, I have entirely been all over the place this week.

Next week, it'll be better, right?

The Coming Storm

Over at CHBM they are having Photo Friday and the topic is Storms. Here is a classic July storm from 2006 where we live on the East Coast. We were watching from the front porch, I grabbed the camera to try to capture the lightening in the clouds. It looked almost orangish in the distance and it was late at night. The storm that came was intense. It's hard because it's so in the black of night but you get the idea.

This probably represents the storm brewing in me right now; how fitting I think that their topic was mimicking my mood which seems to be coming to a head right now. How fitting.

Check out the other links at CHBM as well.
-J

Blind

Do you ever feel like it doesn't matter what you think or say? Like no matter how well you say something or how hard you try to communicate, it just isn't important?

Do you feel invisible like you're just moving through this world but life isn't mattering enough? Or to those around you?

I feel there is blindness abound. In me, in others, just walking around in the most neutral zone possible, not mattering one way or the other. I'm really feeling that. It feels dispairing almost.

-Maybe it's just me.

High In The Sky..

OK so I'm a little late but over at CHBM, for photo Friday last week, they did a Clouds and Sky entry. Go check it out, click here. I have already posted my cloud and sky photos I took recently while on a walk with the boys but I'll post it again. I love absolutely LOVE taking pictures and especially all things nature. So invigorating, you know?

Nothing But Chapters In a Book..

I was thinking today as I was cleaning the house. I have had so many phases in my life. I'm sure I have yet to deal with half of what is in store for me. Each thing, each phase, has been a like a new page which compose these chapters. Like for all of us.

In particular, I've been scouring my brain, trying to think of how I have changed. Who is the person I used to be and now who I've become? It's hard to describe yourself isn't it? I'm not sure why this is so important to me. Partly I think it's important to know I was a good person when Lucas was born and alive. I hope that I was. I know that I've come to be one now, but was I before? I'm not sure I was. I think I was self absorbed and completely oblivious to life and what matters.

I see the Oldest and he is turning out to be a nice young man. Loves school, seems well adjusted, has trouble communicating but we'll work on that; I already have some good ideas to help strengthen him in that area. I don't know where I'm going with all this. I don't. I've been upset to some degree lately and go within myself for answers. Don't mind me. This is one of those rambling posts that make no sense. I know what I want to say but I'm not conveying it well.

I'll stop tonight. Am too tired anyway; probably why I'm not making sense.

State Fair; Too Much Fun!

Now THAT's a big pumpkin. Doncha think?

I wanted to ride the Ferris Wheel so bad but the lines were insanely long, next year, we're going earlier~!

Don't know if you can see it here but at the State Fair, the Oldest caught a fish! He almost didn't want to hold the line, but I basically forced him for the picture! Poor thing. Lots of fun we had!

Bo Essentials

OK, something uplifting, I need it! :) Go check this place out. If that link doesn't work for you try this one. Now I will tell you that you will not be able to experience it the same on the web that you can in the actual store but it is fantastic, I love it, and I always always have my "Bo" on. They have this beautiful little store in a small local shopping district and I am now officially addicted. I haven't spent hundreds and hundreds of dollars or anything (maybe just under $100 all told, maybe not quite that much) but I have the exact things I want from there and that makes all the difference in the world. This feels really lavish on one hand but then on the other, we deserve (I deserve) to treat myself and pamper now and again; no?

My favorite scent is moonflower lavendar. It is exquisite. It smells like you just came out of a salon to me. Feels high dollar but so is not. They will mix and match any scents to make the one you like and they the bases for tons of scents; even ones you'd never think they would have in a little Spa shop like this.



Very fantastic. Seriously, even if you are far away, try a product or two; you will be SO glad you did. And they are fantastic nice there too. Fabulous little place. My new fav. Definitely.

--Jenn

Friday's Whine

Salud! Lets Chillax and all have a nice glass of wine together; this is our second celebration of a good week. Should become our weekly Friday deal. We can call it, "Friday's Whine". I like it. Let it be written, let it be done. And if you ever feel like whining a bit on Friday night, go ahead, it's all inclusive. And while you are at it, go over and check out Tamm. She's partaking as well! :)

Jenn

Do you think..

by any small chance that the risks we take and the rewards we reap are related at all? Do you think that risk takers are the ones who fall the longest and the hardest? And do you think that the risk takers have the most to gain or the least to gain? What if you don't reap any rewards?

What if, just what if, and follow me here, and be warned too, as Lucas lay on that operating table, what what what if that surgeon had said, 'Damn it, I need help, I better get someone to page my senior partner, I am about to mess this baby's heart up royally.'? Hmmm. Wow. He didn't. Huge risk on his part or insane amounts of omnipotence? Actually, it was both. High amounts of both.

He took a major risk with my son and it didn't pay off. Four years later this haunts me. There was supposed to be no risk, this was to be an "uncomplicated surgery". What do I do with that? Accept. And maybe I have been. Accepting. Feels better to be alive lately but then the strings of guilt snap me back and I try to pull myself forward and that is where the constant push and pull comes in. Better? Sure. My mom said something this morning that made perfect sense. She said, "This is how I think of it, you never put it away, you put it in a different place, but you never forget." Right. Exactly.

The quiet crying, the moments alone where I feel the most alone, they are what they are. I would never, could never leave my boys on Earth behind in search of what I can never find till I get to Heaven. The logical side of me knows this all to well. And strength is drawn from others needing me. My boys. The little bit I'm needed at work. My family, my friends, my cat, the little things, just whatever. Maybe I get my strength from different things, I've never really sat down and tried to document it all. It's very intangible and I'm unable to grasp it with any real sense of physicality. They are emotions and in me they are boundless. You will never see me in a situation where a heart is required to feel and love and give kindness without a glistening or more, tears, in my eyes. That's part of what makes me, me. But when I think of Lucas, and what he lost, what we all lost and with his birthday looming ahead, I say to you, don't you dare live this life in vain or without emotions. Don't you dare live this life with no care or kindness towards others. And don't you ever think that what we do here doesn't matter. Because it does. In the most finite of ways, to the smallest little granule, it matters. How hard we love when we can? The eye contact we go out of our way to make with our significant other? The simple hug to your child that they might need but you have no time for?

In the past year or so I have realized that I have to live out loud, as I have said before. I have no other choice. With all that I have, I wish for things I know can never come. So I put it aside, in a different place, in a quiet private place and I know that he is with me. In Heaven, he'll be five in ten days. I will make a cupcake for him that day and I will sing him a song. And I will love what he was and what he never got to be all the days of my life till all the breath in me is gone.

Writing? Oh yes, and capital YES it has been my sacred outlet to bare my soul without a care who is reading. It really doesn't matter who is. I know certain of you read all the time, by your comments and some read but don't comment and I get emails instead. Maybe some read silently. Know this. If you've read here for any length of time, you know our story, my story. I hope that it matters to you. I hope that some good of us having lost Lucas is that you can take to heart what I say and slow down to love as hard as you can and that you like me now make time to be present. If you don't, it will all be your past and you won't be able to get it back, no matter how hard you try. And you can bet your sweet bottom, I know that all too well.

Jenn

Little by Little

Bit by bit, small bits of weight are coming off. It's slow but I'm sticking in there. Increasing activity, and on a schedule now, well, will be, walked twice this week and try to walk fast as possible, but could go faster, now I will.

I'm feeling ok about what I slowly seem to be accomplishing. Some control over some small thing in my life. More than anything, it's maybe about that.

So go little? Maybe not "little" but, littler, less than, healthier than before, I suppose it's a start. You know?

--j

ABC's All The Way!

He is just two, turned two in August. Good job Littlest!

The Year of Change.

I have felt it. Coming out of a daze a bit. The fog is less thick. The cloak of depression is lighter and thinner, and I can feel it. Some of it is attributed to time; plain and simple. But lots of it is attributed to this friend, a very close friend she has become.

Change of subject for a moment. Something happened the other night. I was in a situation that I could not remove myself from. A lot of grief came ripping out of me and I was not in a position to remove myself physically from it. Oh it's a long story, it really is and I'm not devoting the time needed for that story right now. Life works in mysterious ways. It just does. God does too. In quiet and then loud ways. He speaks without saying a word.

I want so much to be able to talk to Lucas, to tell him everything I need to tell him, so that I can move ahead, not move on, I don't think I ever will move "on" because to me that says, he'll be forgotten. To move in a new direction and with a sense of peace and calm, resolve that chapter. But I can't. Not now. So in every prayer of mine, peppered in with the rest of the prayer, is always something to God telling Him to tell Lucas this or tell him that, hug him for me, kiss him for me. I've long stopped asking if Lucas is alone. For one thing, I don't want to know the answer, and then crazily for another thing, he's not alone, because he's with God, and even more crazily, only a few moments have passed by in Heaven so to Lucas, it's not a big deal yet that he can't see me. Hush, leave me be, these thoughts pacify me; at least for now.

In this year I have allowed myself to do many things I wouldn't allow myself before...after his death till now. So I can see the change, back to some sense of whatever normalcy I'll allow myself to have, I can see it all a little. It feels good and empowering.

Thank you, you have been and are a fantastic soul. Thanks for pushing quietly in your own way. I get it. I appreciate it. -----------You know you don't have to change who you are to better yourself, it's what you'll allow yourself to see past and to rise to the occasion that you've never risen to. It's not really changing who you are, but allowing yourself to want better, do better, be better. Two different things. At least I think so.

J