Dear Things

I take everything in when you’re playing together.  Your conversations.  You’re arguments.  I watch and listen.  I always have.  The connection is amazing.  You have such a way of being together.  I crave our time alone together.   Just the 3 of us.  That time is coming to an end. You start school in 2 days.  Both of you.  I will be by myself.  Sure, I will sub at the school and be on several committees but, for the most part, our time as it always has been will never be the same.  I’m silently mourning that.  I cannot let you see me cry.  I want you excited about school.  I want you to meet friends and learn and play and experience new things.  The smile hides the pain I feel.  For seven breathtaking years I’ve been a Stay-At-Home Mommy and words will never fully explain the joy it has brought me. I will still be here when you come home but I know life is changing and inside, I’m hurting. I knew this would happen and I’m happy. Life happened and you grew, happy and healthy like I prayed you would but I am struggling with you leaving.  I never knew letting go could or would be this hard.  I know I will have fun helping at your school and *hopefully* catching glimpses of you both  in the halls.  My advice?  Have fun. Try hard.  Play hard.  Make friends.  Be nice.  Listen.  Be polite.  Say “please” and “thank you.”  Follow the rules.  Know that no matter where you are Mommy is thinking of you and wants you to do your best. I love you both so much.  You have given me something in my life that I can never repay.  I am so much more of a person for being your mother. Thank you for teaching me, loving me, letting me be your mother.  Good Luck on your first day of 1st grade, Thing 1 and your first day of school, Thing 2. Mommy loves you!!!!

The boy….

Way back in 2001 I was 17.  It was summer.   I was a lifeguard.  My friend and I had decided to go, at the last-minute, to a rodeo a few towns over.  We had gotten there late and the dance was just starting.  There were a few boys in the parking lot sitting on their tailgate.  We stopped and talked to them.  This is where, if we were in a romance novel or a teen drama, a mushy love song would start playing. I saw him: a boy 3.5 years my senior. He had very green eyes, an inviting smile, a farmer’s tan. He was beautiful. He talked to me. I smiled at him. We spent some time at the dance before a bunch of us made it back to an after-party. This handsome boy and I sat on his tailgate and talked, looking at the stars until the wee hours of the night. We shared a kiss. Just a kiss.  I stayed out past my curfew and was grounded from everything except going to work the next day. He promised to call me the next day after he got home from the lake. Boys always say they’ll call. He actually did call. I was shocked but oh so very happy. The boy and I began talking on the phone(I was still grounded for a while) then hanging out as much as possible for the rest of the summer before he went back to college and I started my senior year of high school. I worried it was just a summer fling. It wasn’t.  Today marks 10 years that we’ve been together. 10 years of laughs and tears and hugs and fights. In 10 years, there was a wedding and babies. The boy became the greatest love I never knew I could have. We have a bond that has been tested so many times but never broken.  I look at him and think back throughout those 10 years and know without a doubt he’s the only one I would want by my side. A true best friend for life. A partner in every sense of the word. I see him in my children’s eyes and actions. I look to him for advise and comfort. He is what love is all about for me. I’m so grateful to whatever force brought him to me.

……….

When I learned I would become a parent I thought of many things. I wondered what she would look like. I stressed over the number of fingers and toes she would have. Will she giggle like I do? I started a college fund. I worried about our house not being big enough. I daydreamed about freckles and whether she would have my nose or Trav’s. I imagine that this is all normal stuff for any parent-to-be to think about. When you’re in that stage of parenthood I don’t think you look to the future and ponder the “what-ifs”. I didn’t. Now, I am. Now, most of my days are filled with scary what-ifs. I hate it. The constant worrying? I can handle. The pain I see my daughter go through almost daily? I can’t handle. I’m NOT handling. Handling would be I sought out and found an answer. I haven’t. Up until this point, every single cough, cold, sniffle, skinned knee, sore throat, earache, allergy, ect…..I have handled. I have been Mommy and taken care of these things with swift action. I am not one to normally “wait it out”. If my kids are sick, we see a doctor. I have always erred on the side of caution. I’ve been called anal but I don’t care. It’s who I am and I own it. This? I can’t take care of. We’ve seen two different doctors, had her eyes checked, tried antibiotics for severe sinusitis, tried allergy meds, and now? She is on a new medicine that is not only NOT working  but can’t be abruptly stopped because of adverse effects. It scares the hell out of me daily. I hate this. I walked around following her when she’s home. Making sure she’s okay. I watch her when she’s sleeping. Making sure her chest is rising and falling as it should. I lay my head on her chest and listen to her precious heartbeat. When she’s at school? I am a wreck. I carry my phone everywhere. Literally. It even goes to the bathroom with me. I can’t think of the possibility of the school calling and I miss it. We have another appointment next week for blood work and an MRI which she knows nothing about yet. Why worry her? I’m so good at it, right? I won’t stop until we can get answers and help her. I know that I need to have faith that there IS an answer and we WILL find it. I am hopeful we will. I just think it can’t come soon enough……

Alone

I feel alone. I hate even writing that sentence. It’s true, though. There are times I don’t feel like I have anywhere to turn when I need to talk. I have tried to be a good friend to people but I don’t feel like I have that. I don’t know why. I wish I did. I hate knowing that. I don’t really know what I did wrong. I have things I wish I could confide in certain people I feel could be close friends but I don’t know if that’s what they want from our relationship. A casual friendship might be all they want. I’ve had what I thought were close friends and those friends have vanished. I’m lost. I’m alone. My heart hurts for so many reasons. It aches to be able to open up and share. I long to reach out and have someone do the same. I see so many friends have such closeness and I’m jealous. I’m not sure I’ll ever have that. I hope I will. I thought a few times I did. Anyone reading this thinking “I have a friend like that”, know how lucky you are and make sure to tell that buddy how special they are, okay? You don’t realize how rare or coveted that treasure you have is to someone like me.

Do Not Pass Go

It’s my fault. I know it is. I don’t know who said it but I agree 100%. We teach people how to treat us. I wish I knew how to fix it. I wish I knew how to break it. I don’t. I’m constantly getting my feelings hurt. Sometimes it’s huge. Sometimes it’s teeny tiny. With the huge offenses, I’ll cry and become almost numb for a bit. I’ll obsess over it for days and think of little else. With the smaller crimes,  I’ll worry and have a heavy heart and then slowly forget. Either way? It hurts. I know not everyone realizes they do it and I DO realize I’m a sensitive person. My poor daughter has inherited this trait. I take everything so seriously. I want to change it. I want to not care but I do. I want to just turn my back on anyone who brushes me and my feelings aside as if I don’t matter but how? How do I do that when I do care? I care about these people. That’s how they have the ability to hurt me in the first place. In some way, shape, or form I’ve let them in. They have a place somewhere in my heart. They’ve been given a little PASS GO card saying “Here ya go. Hurt her all you want. You can.” And they do. Every single time. They aren’t to blame on their own. I know they will and I continue to let them cause me pain. It’s not a hot water faucet I can turn off. Wouldn’t that be nice? I don’t have any New Year’s resolutions but I will be working on this: weeding out the people in my life that don’t need to be here, the people who only take from me and give me stress in return.