Where does the time go?

It seems like forever since the last time I wrote. Where does the time go? I've been reading this a lot lately - as friends and friends of friends post pictures, proud pictures, of their children going off to school. Preschool, kindergarten, high-school, college, grad school. All of them asking themselves the same question...where does the time go? I can remember my little cousins, in diapers, playing with dollies and cars. Showing me tricks and letting me carry them around like they were my little children. Now they are shipping off to college and grad school leaving me feeling very, very old.

My brother - my baby brother who I tormented and adored at the same time is turning 31 years old in a few days. THIRTY ONE years I have loved him, looked up to him (looked down at him my fair share of times too - sorry for being a big Sis with a superiority complex) and watched him grow into a MAN. yes a MAN. And my own son. My baby boy. The one I brought into this world on November 23, 2004, in a tub full of water, is going into the 3rd Grade.

It seems like yesterday that I was in the 3rd grade. Matter of fact I have a rather Rain Man like memory of my childhood school years. Pre-school - Mrs. Smith at the Little Brown Church. Learning the Pledge of Allegiance and singing This Land is Your Land to the sweet sound of an old organ. Making paper pilgrim hats and wearing white gowns at graduation. A boy ate a worm that year in front of me. I cried salty tears and Mrs. Smith wiped them away. I remember playing under what we thought was an enormous, Redwood sized, pine tree - I drive by it now and it resembles that of a small Christmas tree. Funny how perspective changes.

Kindergarten - Mrs. Ostroski's class - saw my first baby breastfed that year. Kissed Justin B. behind the tree in front of the main office - ok ok so I kissed him on his coat but it meant something to me. Sat in circles and learned to read Dick and Jane books. First grade was Mrs. Hagman - Chinese New Year coins and John Doe (*Name changed to protect the identity) wearing a medicated bandaid on his thumb to prevent sucking in class. I faked a knee injury that year in the Junior Ski Program. The Bus slowed down and everyone stared and waited while I took my sweet time getting on and off the bus. I also got to sit in a chair that year during story time instead of sitting cross legged on the rug. I was so special.

Second grade was Ms. Cates - the lady that was rumored to have locked a child in her closet. That was the year we voted for President in the newsletter mock poll - I told everyone that Dukakis was going to let the murderers out of jail so they had better vote for George Bush Sr. I fell in love with a boy from Bath who I thought was the first African American boy I had ever seen. Turns out he just had curly hair. Third grade was prime for romance. Oh *John Doe (ok ok it was Sandy Forbes) I wanted to run away with you. We held hands in the movie theater while watching Ski Patrol - Caitlin was there too. It was fabulous. Oh yeah and so was your mom. Great date overall. I forget what sort of penny candy we got from the lady at the mall. I still have the letters. Written to and from boys and girls outlining our plans for love and life. We made raffles, we invented games and went on top secret spying missions. I was told in 3rd grade that Santa wasn't real. Thank you Jimmy Y. I cried and cried in Mrs. Merrill's lap. She wiped my tears and assured me that Santa was real and I should still believe. I'll never forget that sweet moment.

Fourth grade was prime for new things - new school, new lockers and oh yes, more boys. Kevin placing a rose in my locker. Being the first and only boy at my birthday party - Oh how cutting edge I was. It was at the Cranmore Resort - I was pretty lucky that year. I think it was $80 for the entire party - makes my sons $350 Portland Pirates 6th birthday party look like a wedding! I could go on and on...and on.

Where does the time go? I want to tell my son I'm so proud of him. I brought him into this world thinking his life would go a certain way. It has not gone as planned. Actually nothing has gone as planned but I wouldn't want it any other way. Coming to grips with the fact that life's journey is anything but how you expect it to be. And that is a wonderful thing. If things had gone the way I had planned them in my mind - I would have sold myself short. There is such sweetness in the overcoming of obstacles. My original plan had no obstacles - just smooth sailing. But without storms and rain there are no rainbows. I've learned that over the last 32 years.

I remember his daycare days - did I pack enough milk? Will they drop him? How on earth will I be able to work knowing my baby is away from me? I remember his pre-school days - why on earth is he biting other kids? No there is no Mrs. Frazier - it's Perley and his dad is far far away - like Afghanistan far away and he may not ever come back. Yes son, you have a Daddy.

I remember Kindergarten drop off - I followed the bus and cried behind a tree - taking pictures as if I worked for the CIA. Please be safe honey - please know that Mommy loves you. Wow you can read well. Yes, honey - Mommy's sorry you have to go to aftercare also - trust me I wish I could pick you up at 3:05.

First grade - here comes the class clown. Now I know what I put my teachers through! My little comedian - my brainiac - my guy. Second grade - ok he's starting to want to go on playdates and doesn't want me to kiss him at drop off anymore! Does he still need me? Why is this happening so fast?

And now third grade - I'm sitting here, in the house I own, on my own. My baby sleeping in the next room about ready to start the grade when I was told that Santa didn't exist. Where did the time go? I feel old - I miss the earlier years but I am so happy we have overcome them. And just when I feel like my boy is all grown up, I realize he has crawled into my bed with his Bugs Bunny stuffed animal I won him after absolutely crushing the competition of 5 year olds at Six Flags water guns. He's still my baby. He always will be.

Letting go...holding on...

there is strength in weakness - when your back hurts, your mind is heavy with thoughts and stress and worry, your rooms are messy, your floor is dirty, your to do list resembles a novel....you are strong.

you are strong for not giving up. for smiling through doubt. for laughing through fear.

i've begun to realize that even when i'm at my most vulnerable, i am full of strength. the biggest battle we fight is that against ourselves. good enough, smart enough, successful enough, happy enough, enough enough enough.

leaping out, into the dark, into the unknown and into the fear is a sign of strength. you are strong enough to let go.

my life is in flux. my past has shaped my present and my future is unknown. can i let go? can i let the past go? can i hold on to it and still embrace the future?

no.

i have to let go. let go of the worry, let go of the fear, let go of the stress. i will stay in the hamster wheel as long as i keep walking. the faster i walk the faster it spins...i go no where.

stop. step off. step out.

my worrying mind tells me that my son is growing older. have i done a good job? will he understand what i've gone through? will he wish things were different?

i don't know. i never will.

what i do know is that the amount of time he spends with me is not relative to the amount of love we share. his happiness and his life is not exclusively mine. my happiness and my life is not exclusively his.

we meet in the middle. the sweet middle. i must let go a little bit. let him fly. to his father, to his friends, to his future.

letting go of everything means i'm holding on.

yoga made me cry tonight. lying there beside strangers in a 98 degree room i cried during the final pose. i'd put myself through 90 minutes of rigorous exercise. sweat out every last drop i had to give.

i let myself go and admitted to myself that sharing my son with his father is hard. being the bigger person is hard. telling the truth when you feel as though it will get you no where is hard. i'm scared. i'm nervous. i'm stressed.

but i'll be okay. the best part about crying in power yoga is that no one can see your tears. my sweat and tears...of my workout, of my life blended together and fell away.


in my most vulnerable, i was strong.
i let go in order to hold on.

You can learn a lot from a 6 year old

"Mom...people kiss you...and then they leave."

"I wish my Dad was here...I wish he could come to my birthday...I wish I could give him a hug."

In two phrases - he sums up more emotional trauma, drama and heartache than any child should understand. He has summarized the last almost 7 years of his life - and the last several of mine.

Do I teach him to have a closed heart? Do I teach him to look before he leaps like I have failed to do sometimes? Do I apologize for not finding a better partner...trusting my gut...sticking up for myself?

No.

I hold him and hope someday he understands that it wasn't my plan - that I had other plans, goals, ideas of what would be. Someday he will understand that life happens when you're busy making plans. That it is better to have an open heart than walls higher than the trees. Even walls can be rebuilt. Broken hearts can heal.

Where I've been has resulted in where I am today. If it wasn't for that rocky road, that zig-zagged path, he wouldn't be in my life...I wouldn't have the bond I have. Had the opportunity to see him every day of his life. Raise him - teach him - show him.

Show him that even through challenges, you can succeed. Even storms end. Rainbows happen.

To everyone who has broken my heart, stepped on me, called me names, gotten in my way, made me forget myself, hated me, loved me, kissed me and left...

THANK YOU.

PS - and if it weren't for my storms, I wouldn't have had the opportunity to hit the jackpot at the end of the rainbow.

A Day to Remember

Today a girl named Kate married her Prince - in front of the world for everyone to see. Millions watched in awe as the beauty and love sparkled on the screen like a movie. Little girls everywhere grow up hoping to find their prince charming.

I don't have a daughter, but if I did, what would I tell her? Would I tell her that fairy tales come true? Would I tell her to settle for nothing less than a sparkling love - someone who adores her and treats her like a princess? Is it too unrealistic to stick to the fairy tale?

Or has my heart grown cold? Have my scars pushed away that dream I once had...the dream I brushed under the rug years ago when I realized that things don't always turn out the way you had hoped?

Yesterday I would have told my daughter that it was a bunch of bull. That she should let go of her expectations now because she will only be disappointed. That life doesn't happen like the movies and that shouldn't expect anyone to sweep you off of your feet. You could end up falling on your face.

But today changed me. It gave me hope. As silly as it sounds the idea that love can be beautiful and relationships can work came back to me today. I will find my prince. He will find me. He will be charming, he will adore me and he will treat me like gold. And I will settle for nothing less.

Today I would tell her to keep her hopes and dreams alive. To not have her life revolve around a man (or woman if she chooses) - but have her partner enhance her life - turn the music on - turn the lights up - bring the sunlight to her face - bring the beauty back - make her feel just as wonderful as she is.


Not Like the Movies by Katy Perry

He put it on me, I put it on,
Like there was nothing wrong.
It didn't fit,
It wasn't right.
Wasn't just the size.
They say you know,
When you know.
I don't know.

I didn't feel
The fairytale feeling, no.
Am I a stupid girl
For even dreaming that I could.

If it's not like the movies,
Thats how it should be, yeah.
When he's the one,
I'll come undone,
And my world will stop spinning
And that's just the beginning, yeah.

Snow white said when I was young,
"One day my prince will come."
So I wait for that date.
They say its hard to meet your match,
Find my better half.
So we make perfect shapes.
If stars don't align,

If it doesn't stop time,
If you cant see the sign,
Wait for it.
One hundred percent,
With every penny spent.
He'll be the one that,
Finishes your sentences.

If it's not like the movies,
Thats how it should be.
When he's the one,
He'll come undone,
And my world will stop spinning,
And thats just the beginning.

'Cause I know you're out there,
And your, your love came for me.
It's a crazy idea that you were made,
Perfectly for me you'll see.

Just like the movies.
That's how it will be.
Cinematic and dramatic with the perfect ending.
It's not like the movies,
But that's how it will be.
When he's the one,
You'll come undone,
And your world will stop spinning,
And it's just the beginning.

Boys to Men Poem Submission

I was asked to submit a piece of writing to the Boys to Men, Mother's Advisory Committee for their January Newsletter. Boys to Men is a nonprofit and its mission is to reduce interpersonal violence by offering programs that (i)support the healthy development of adolescent boys; (ii) provide assistance and educational resources to boys and those who help raise them; and (iii) increase community awareness about the specific needs of boys.


Mother and Son

my dear sweet boy
my little one
you swept me away
stole my heart
showed me what true love finally is

my dear sweet boy
the love of my life
the life of my love
the light of my universe

such a little man
such a big burden
be a boy - be a man
it’s just you and me

never leave me
always love me
take care of me
become the man I wish I had met years ago.

stop the presses - i'm using a vacation day!

every once in a while, sometimes every so often, sometimes rarely...you just need a break. a break from the grind, a break from the tasks, to-do lists, phones ringing, emails blinking, schedules dictating.

i'm taking a vacation day. my son will go to school and i will do whatever the ___ i feel like. for me this means cleaning my apartment without distraction of "play with me", "mom, mommy, mooooooooom". the only meals to make are my own. ahhhhhhh time off.

i will feel accomplished, relaxed, refreshed and happy. i will get my hair cut and let them wait on me like i'm a queen. maybe i'll spring for a pedicure?

for this day i will be taken care of.

do yourself a favor - if you are tired, over worked, under appreciated, pulled in 1000 directions, over achieving, under achieving, burnt or bored...take that damn vacation day that you've earned :)

A poem that actually makes sense

The Thing Is

to love life, to love it even
when you have no stomach for it
and everything you've held dear
crumbles like burnt paper in your hands,
your throat filled with the silt of it.
When grief sits with you, its tropical heat
thickening the air, heavy as water
more fit for gills than lungs;
when grief weights you like your own flesh
only more of it, an obesity of grief,
you think, How can a body withstand this?
Then you hold life like a face
between your palms, a plain face,
no charming smile, no violet eyes,
and you say, yes, I will take you
I will love you, again.
Ellen Bass,
from Mules of Love.
© BOA Editions, Ltd.,
The Writers Almanac for Oct 16, 2010