Friday, September 24, 2010

Room to Breathe

The last couple of weeks have been unspeakable.

The last couple of weeks have been unbloggable (as you can tell from my absence).

The last couple of weeks had me gasping for air, literally. I found myself trying to catch my breath a couple times while just sitting on the couch.

I’ve wanted to curl up in a fetal position and sleep until everything cleared itself up. Fortunately, I have kids that don’t allow me to check out like that or believe me, I would have stayed in bed for days.

Today was the first day I felt like I had some breathing room. During a lull in the afternoon I put on one of my David Gray cd’s, picked up a book I’ve been wanting to read, and eased back in the recliner ready to zone out for a while. Sarah came up asking to sit with me. I pulled her up thinking I could read with her snuggled in my lap, but she kept throwing Ziggy, her prized stuff animal, down to the ground.

Over and over I picked it up.

Again and again down he went.

Finally, I announced I was done with this “game.” She slid off my lap onto the floor to pout. Normally I would let her pout and just ignore her, but today it didn’t feel right. I spied one of her books on the coffee table and picked it up.

“Do you want me to read to you?” I asked.

A huge smile lit up her face. Without a word she climbed back up in the chair with me and I read the book, silly voices and all. Half way through I felt Savannah lean on the back of my chair listening. I guess they were glad to have Mommy fully engaged again. Not that I haven’t been engaged, but I haven’t been a lot of fun.

That reading time gave me a little breath I’ve been lacking. The smile on Sarah’s face, my voice luring Savannah in, a little music in the background; they may not have resolved my problems, but they were the fresh air I needed

Sometimes when things get bad and we feel stifled or hopeless, we just need to remember to give ourselves a little room to breathe.

Monday, September 20, 2010

Memories of a Miracle

I was the recipient of a miracle one night last week.

I had all three kids showered or bathed, lotioned, teeth brushed, read to, and in their beds ready for sleep by 9:00, and I was in bed, also showered, read, and relaxed by 10:00!

I felt like the heavens were shining down on me.

Begin the Hallelujah chorus please.

I keep trying to make that wondrous event happen again, but alas, at least one of my kids goes to bed stinky, or refuses to sleep, or I’m dragging my tired, stinky butt to bed much later than I’d like.

Ah well. At least I can hold memories of that one magical night.

And now cue Barbra Streisand singing The Way We Were.

Yes, I like to talk about my life in soundtrack.

Look at me! I actually learned how to post a video to my blog! I might be catching on to all of this techie stuff.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010


I’m just going to be honest with you.

I’m pissed!

And yesterday I couldn’t think of anything else but why I’m pissed

So I didn’t write anything

Because I didn’t want to think about it

But I could think of nothing else.

Does that even make sense?

I woke this morning still pissed.

But I want to write

Because I enjoy it

It gives me a release

But I don’t want to write about what’s on my mind

Which is what I normally do

Write about whatever’s there

Hanging around in my mind

No matter how dark, sad, or silly.

I’m usually very honest

To a fault sometimes

But today all I’m going to say is

I feel like I have no options for things that are bothering me

I just have to sit and take it and try to make the best of it

But I’m not happy about it

I’m pretty tired of it, actually.

And I’m pissed!

Friday, September 10, 2010


Today is a big day.

Three years on this day, just before noon…

Sarah was born.

And she met her sister for the first time.

Sarah has added a little more light to our home.

She’s easy going.

She’s got a great sense of humor.

She loves her sister

And her brother

And she’s incredibly cool.

Happy birthday, Tugar.

I love you so much.

Thursday, September 9, 2010

Update on Savannah

My baby has had two days at her new school.

My baby, though initially scared, had a great first day.

My baby made friends on her first day of school.

My baby looked confident and happy when she walked out of the school.

My baby was eager to tell me about her first day.

My baby followed me around the house to talk about her second day.

My baby is happy.

My baby is 11 and in middle school.

My baby is not a baby anymore.

She’s grown up on me when I wasn’t looking.

She took on a major change with poise, grace, and determination.

She maneuvered the hallways and portables of a much bigger school with ease.

She has crossed over from girlhood to teenager.

And she still greets me with a huge smile and even bigger hug.

She gives great hugs!

I’m so proud of her.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Savannah on My Mind

I’ve got Savannah on the brain. She started her new school this morning complete with a new uniform, lunch box, and a stomach full of nerves.

When we pulled into the parking lot Savannah let out one of those nervous stretches. You know the kind. It’s shaky and tight and you take in a deep breath and let it out in a last effort to get out the butterflies, but it just pumps the adrenaline more.

I told her we could sit in the car for a little bit, so we sat together listening to her new Camp Rock 2 CD until she said, “Okay. Let’s go. Now.”

It was toward the end of first period before we had her registered and a class schedule worked out. I was fine with the delay because it gave me some extra time before I sent her out into the great unknown. She’s going from a school of 300 to a school of 1000. BIG change for my timid girl.

An eighth grader gave us a tour of the huge school…that is until it was time for second period to start. Then she took off leaving Savannah and I staring at each other.

“Well, I guess I should go,” Savannah said trying to look confident. Then a scared look came across her face, but just briefly. I laid my hand her arm, “You’re going to have a great day.”

She nodded and walked toward her class, shoulders back, and head held high.
I wanted to reach out and cling to her. I wanted to take her back home and fill in for her until the school day became routine and I had landed a friend or two, then she could drop back in and take over for the rest of the year.

I stood in the hallway and watched her walk away until I couldn’t see her red curls anymore. Then I turned and cried as if I had just dropped off my five year old for her first day in kindergarten.

I am the epitome of an overprotective mom. I admit it. Maybe it’s because I remember what it’s like to be awkward and eleven. Or how it feels to be shy and have to start a new school without knowing anyone. I attended five different schools in six years, and each time I was terrified.

I’ve been watching the clock all day.

Savannah’s in choir now. That will be a nice break in her day.

Oh God. This is probably her lunch time. I hope she finds a place to sit.

She’s in her last class right now and I’m counting down the minutes until I can give her a big hug and hear how her day went.

I hope it was good.

I’ll keep you posted.

Monday, September 6, 2010

A Bedtime Story with Sarah

I try to read a couple books with Sarah most nights before she drifts off, which lately is about three hours after I’ve put her to bed. She likes to burn the midnight oil.

Our reading time usually goes something like this:

Me: Said the mother hor…


Me: Yes, Sarah. To her ch…


Me: That’s right, Sarah.

*Give up and turn the page.*

Said the mother b…


Yeah, it’s a bear. To her chil…


Yeah, ggrrrr. I love you as mu…


I know. You colored the page.

*Give up and turn the page.*

Said the mother cam…


Yep, camel.

*Pause this time and wait for it.*


What does a camel do?

*More silence.*


That’s right. You colored the page.

*Chuckle, give up and turn the page.*

Said the mother du…


Uh-huh. To her child…


I lov…


You as mu…


*Sigh, give up and turn the page.*

Said the…


Mother sheep to…


Her child…


I love y…


As much…


As the grass…




Yes, Sarah. It’s a sheep.

*Sigh, give up and skip to the last page.*

Now sleep…


Child of…


I lov…


A mother…


Can love. The end.

*And close the book.*

This is when Sarah sticks her thumb in her mouth and sinks down next to me….ready to read a book.

Can you guess that book?

Friday, September 3, 2010


This week has been trying.

This week has been frustrating.

This week has been sad, mixed with anger, mixed with hope.

This week has brought out the lioness in me like no other.

We had… let’s call it “issues” with Savannah’s school this week.

“Issues” that resulted in us pulling her from school.

Pulling her from a school she’s attended since Kindergarten.

I was so angry at the administration of this school.

Then I felt completely broken at the loss…for me….for Savannah.

Now at the beginning of her sixth grade year she will need to start over at a new place, with new kids, new teachers, and the semester has already begun.

I find myself holding my kids, especially my oldest, closer than ever and growling at anyone who dares to come near.

But then a little hope emerged when Savannah and I toured schools together, and we felt ourselves getting excited about one. I swear I saw a future friend walk by. She had the same curly hair as my girl pulled back into a ponytail and she looked at us with a shy smile as she walked by.

This morning I picked up Savannah’s information from her old school for the transfer to become official. As I stood at the office window the Kindergarten class walked by in a single-file line and I could see Savannah, five years old, walking with them. Then the Science teacher Savannah had been looking forward to having this year walked out into the hallway, talking to the kids as they walked by. My heart sank and I could feel the tears well up.

We’ve been a part of this school for over six years and they’ve been a part of us, frustrations and all.

As I turned to leave the office manager said, “Tell Savannah I love her and I’m going to miss her.” I could only nod.

In the car I wiped my eyes and drove away.

We’ve made our decision…

And there’s no looking back.