Things I'd like to do for a living...

This is kinda silly, but I'm feeling emotion-ed out and I just want to lighten it up.

I began thinking about this in the hospital, when during the first night there was a baby in the nursery who was so mad. He was doing the goat-cry, "maaah maaah maaah" His mom was recovering from a c-section, and I felt so bad for the little guy. So I thought, I want to be the person to hold the babies in the nursery! I know the nurses are there, but they are SO busy and they just need someone to cuddle while their moms are recovering! That would be my dream job.

I might like to make coffee. The strong aroma of the ground coffee, the warm steam, all the flavors and combinations would be so fun but I cannot get up at 5 am, so sorry about that.

I had my "dream job" once before, at the library, and the job was fantastic! It was the people who I couldn't stand! The piles and piles of books, the knowledge and words and paper and ideas, I wanted to just sit and immerse myself in the pages. I also loved helping people discover what they were looking for, be it academic or just for fun, the look in their eyes was always priceless.

Dad and I always wanted to have a restaurant. I might like that, but I don't like hungry people. I think starting from scratch, designing the look, laying out the menu, feeding people the fantastic food I was brought up on would give me such a thrill. Really, I'd rather have a huge kitchen and have dinner parties where I could show off my culinary talents. Sliding the food onto their plates as it is ready from my pan, watching their faces light up. I love to make people happy.

When our friend Laura had her baby (and Sara too) I offered my services a few days after he was born. In a nutshell, I visited, but I wanted Laura and Jamie to be able to relax. I instructed them to take showers ( In Sara and Brandon's case, they both refused, then 10 minutes later decided it was a good idea), take naps and let me handle the baby for a little while. It is SO stressful to come home and have no clue what you're doing and be SO exhausted, both you and your spouse that you can't think straight. I got Jamie situated, so he could take care of Laura (shower, nap). Then in turn, She could take care of Hendrik better, knowing SHE was taken care of. In Europe, you can have an in-home nurse on call for you after having a baby! I helped Laura nurse, little stinker was too impatient and it get frustrating doing it without any clue. She called me her "doula" but really I'm just an "experienced" mom who has some skills to share!

I do have the best job in the world. I love being a mom, and always wanted to be one. It is a stress-filled job, with long hours and no pay, but the benefits reaped are more priceless than jewels.

On the topic of family...

Sara (my bff) has a frame that says,
"Friends are the family
God lets you choose"

So true.

I have been blessed, many times over by my family. Not that we don't have our issues, cause believe me, we do, but it's so tame comparatively. Same with my In-laws. Sara says I got the Arnold Swartzenegger mother-in-law and she got the Danny Divito.

Throughout my life, I've always had one main friend, I don't like to divide loyalty, and I don't like girl drama, so I keep it close. As a result, I have been badly hurt more than once.

Sara and I met in college, both self-conscious, timid to stick our necks out and make friends. We realized almost instantly, that we were like a puzzle, we fit together perfectly. We didn't match exactly, but when put together, it was a whole. We both had boyfriends, and we all got along really well. She was my Maid of honor, I her matron (eh I hate that), and we're each other's son's Godmothers. I fought for that. Ryan wasn't sure...she isn't related...but I stood firm. I want my son to have a relationship with this woman that goes beyond "friend". Just like I do.

Here's the problem. Sara, even though I've professed my love for her from the rooftops is insanely jealous. In the past few years, we've joined a church and so many of the women there are cut from the same cloth as us. Genuine, wonderful people. Sara thinks I'm going to leave her for them.

Sara has many other friends. I am not her One-and-only. But I am not allowed!

For instance, Mary, whose son I watch everyday, is SO much like Sara, that I ofter CALL her Sara. (that and she has a sister named Sarah) They both are very vulnerable. They both have crazy mothers. They both have an older sister who is so out of this world that we can't even see her. I want, SO BADLY, for them to be friends!!!!! Then I remember last time that happened, in middle school. The two girls became friends and teamed up on me and made my life hell... I don't think Sara and Mary would go there, though.

Anyway, I have found some true friends, at Epic, and I want to SHARE! I am SO tired of vapid, empty women, who do nothing but talk about money and who ever is not there behind their back. Women who only want to be your friend so they came compare themselves with you and come out on top. Women who forget you the minute you're gone.

I never got a chance to be a sister, or have a sister. She was still born when I was 2. I have said in the past that I wasn't sure if I could have shared my dad. Now she gets him all to herself! I have a few sisters-in-law, but I feel like I have this small group of women who are my soul sisters. Ladies, you are a God-send. I hope I am everything to you, that you are to me.

And Then I Consider...

He's a loving God, right? So why the hurt, the pain? I know Dad is in heaven, able to play his guitar well again (after a thumb accident left him not feeling much) waiting the split-second it takes to get us all there in eternity time. But down here, we ache. It's dulled, some. The hardest part for me is the fact that my kids would LOVE him. They are the exact kind of grandkids he'd want. Snuggly, fun, eager to learn new things and listen to music. Then he could send them home! All of my life, as far back as I could remember, I had this vision of me and my dad and my daughter on a little fishing boat. I think Maddie was hand-picked from him, a little sass, freckles, smart as a whip and a few things thrown in for spite :)

So we ask why. How was his time up at 43? Why did God decide it was more important for him to be there, instead of here?

I've though about it some. Mom thinks maybe He and Maddie couldn't be here at the same time. Dad was the glue of his family, and as steadfastly as he held it, there were issues beyond his control that were tearing it apart from the inside, from the past. His death has pushed some of those people away, maybe freeing them from their own personal pain and memories. But his family has become stronger, willing to extend an open hand to brothers and sisters who previously were behind solid walls. Even in death, the glue still remains strong, he is their link, their little (or big) brother always.

Since time has put space between us, we grow more and more able to accept, to love again. Especally when we thought we never could. mom initially said she would never get married again. I wasn't so sure, she gets lonely, even though she's quite happy by herself most of the time. But when the time arises, she needs someone to hold her and keep the fears at bay. For a few long years, it was me, and I was not sufficient. She has found someone who she can take care of in her way, and he can protect her from those things she battles. I've thought about his past. Rocky, at times unstable. But aren't we all? His darkest moments came just after Dawn, and Mom was his way out into the light. So, what would have happened to him if my dad was still around? Would he have been saved? I doubt it. He doesn't try, in any way, to replace my dad. He's scarily similar, without knowing that he's doing it. Upon getting to know him, my first reaction was in response to my children, who loved him immediately. The more he's around, the more I realize how genuine he is, how much he cares about us. The kids know Grandpa Don is in heaven, but they certainly can have fun with Papa Houligan here! I think he was another hand-picked from Dad. Lord knows how she could have found someone to put up with her!! (xox mom)

I used to think people got lonely in Heaven waiting for everyone to come. I didn't realize how many are already there, with open arms, and how short the time really is. I can feel him radiating dad/grandpa proudness on us.

The Day the Music Died

It still can be hard for me to listen really listen to good music. I practically burst into tears immediately. Music is ingrained in my soul, part of my DNA make-up, partially from my mom, who is an avid lover of all kinds, but probably mostly from my dad, who came from a muscial family and was a musician himself. He taught himself guitar (with the help of his older brothers) and had this hauntingly beautiful voice that had incredible range. We grew up listening to it singing worship songs for the Saturday evening mass at church. We would sit, entranced, and listen to him sing in my parent's bedroom, cosy and intimate, a concert just for us. He would ask us what we wanted him to play, and we would say, "I don't know, something" and he would begin "Something" by the Beatles. Other times, he would tease me and say how he usd to sing this song back when I loved, when I was a baby, "Ripplin' Waters" by John Denver. After he put new strings on, he would break them in with Dan Fogelburg, A song I can never remember it's name..."do do do do doo " helpful, I know.

Music just doesn't ring the same way for me anymore.
That's one reason I can't listen to it. If HE hadn't heard it, is it worth hearing?

Two months after I married my second best friend, we found out that my very best friend, in ways neither of us could really understand, was dying. I spend every minute available with him in those last weeks. I fought with work, school and practically abandoned my new husband. He died with all of us around him, then coming to us in spirit after he had left his body. I felt peace, calmness, love. I could go on.
I remember now.


I have cried too...I have cried too long
I have cried too...I have cried too long
No more sorrow...got to carry on

And now, The Boy

He came along so differently. Oh, yeah I wanted another baby, badly, but the timing was not a good as I'd like it. Not his fault. I was a nervous wreck every day. I was filled with anxiety, sure something was going to go wrong. My hormones were in HIGH GEAR. He came kind of eventfully, after being in labor all day, suddenly, he was there. He blinked at me, and it took me a few minutes to realize this was my son. I was so in love.

He is the complete opposite of his sister. He lavashes love on me like he has enough for the whole world, and no, I don't have to do ANYTHING in return. On his 6 month birthday, he crawled out of his co-sleeper and stood up on me. He walked by 10 months. He was saying sentences when his sister was barely saying mamma. He is my music-obsessed baby (where could he get that from?). Guitar Hero=love. He runsandrunsandruns, shrieking like a banshee, and I realize he's wailing on a (spoon, brush, traintrack) pretending to be shredding a riff. He's not picky, though,if he has two (spoons, brushes, traintracks) They can be drumsticks! He used to call daddy's drums "bang". He has a soft boy-smell at the nape of his neck that I can't get enough of. He says " It's so (stucking, broking, heavy)". He's still so new, even though he's two.I wonder how he'll evolve, what he's going to like in the future. Right now, it's all music, spiderman, Thomas. But he's merging into a Mario party obsession. We'll see. "I Yoshi" as he scrunches up his mouth to say the unfamiliar word.

He went through a rough patch, for a few months I really really wanted to flush him down the toilet. But those tantrums have pretty much subsided, and my wonderful, sweet boy has returned. He brings me his blankets and says, "Wanna nuggle mamma". Not a request, a statement. But I am so willing everytime.

Madeline

This post is in regards to my dear four and a half year old daughter. Named after specifically my grandma, but also after her grandma; she's fifth generation, first daughter Mary (I'm the odd one out, just the french version). She is the much-wanted granddaughter, first girl in any family in 7 years, The heart healer for so many, in a time when we all had great holes ripped in ours. She is funny, sassy, beautiful, and ME. She know every way to push every button. She knows that she is daddy's girl, and she knows she can use that fact to hurt me. And she does.

I am amazed that this long-legged, blonde haired, freckle face came from me. Well, the freckles, yes, but they are so unlike mine, taking over my face faster than I could apply sun screen. Hers are gently dabbled on her nose, like stars in the sky. Some things amaze me, though they shouldn't. She can read, pretty proficiently, and I could too around her age. I had very little to do with it. She just COULD one day. She, unlike me and more like her father, can also do sums, make story problems, see the numbers.

She can turn on you like you would never imagine, taking away the love she so generously gave you without a thought. She will surprise you and gift you with the warmest, sweetest smile you will ever see.

My mother says it's payback. As I, too, was a daddy's girl, I'm sure the pain I inflicted on my mother's heart was severe.

I watch her, amazed that I made her (with a little help). She is such an outgoing little person, she immediately make friends wherever she is. She has talents I wish I had. She's who I wish I was, all those painful years growing up. I am trying SOOO hard to instill grace, humility, kindness in her. I want her to be the girl everyone loves, but not because she's unattainable, but because she's a rare, real, beautiful human being.

The days after cont.

People have been commenting on how upbeat I am. I guess it's because I think laughter is the best medicine. Seriously, I would just cry ALL THE TIME. Is it worth it? No. Am I Disappointed? Yes. But I can move on.

Honestly, I almost forget that along with this surgery meant the loss of a baby. For me, it was more the loss of an idea. The "baby" would never have become one, having implanted in my tube, so I almost feel not connected to it. I'm pro-life, though not radical, but in my heart of hearts I think there is a time when the baby doesn't have it's soul yet. I don't mean it as a "when does life begin" sort of debate, but I think there is a time where God waits, shows the new baby it's family, then lets it in. I don't feel like my "baby" had its soul yet. I may have a baby soul waiting in heaven for me, or even maybe God will give it another chance next time. I had a miscarriage before Maddie and that one I felt like it had a soul. I felt that it was a girl (I felt the same with both my kids, an immediate, instinctual knowledge) and I was very upset. This time, I felt like God said "Whoops, hold on a minute. Mechanical problem. We'll take you for the next ride"

I am so blessed to have two fantastic children. I will kvetch and complain, but they are my world, and I would be lost without them. So many mothers who have miscarriages never get to have that. I almost feel guilty asking for more. Being on the mother-baby unit after surgery though only solidified the fact that I WANT another baby. I try to think that I'm a good mother, and I hope someday I'll get that validation from my kids. Right now, it's touch and go. I'm gonna make an effort to be a better mom.

I would like to pause a moment and give a thank you to all those who thought of me, called me, prayed for me, brought me food, took my kids, visited, anything during my hours of need. The support I received was overwhelming. I cannot thank you all enough for the love I feel. I'm constantly second guessing myself as a friend, as a neighbor, as a member of a community, but I feel validated by the outpouring of love. The food is awesome too!


I'm going on a cruise in 3 weeks from today. I thought, Hey, I've got an excuse to be fluffy, I'm 3 months pregnant! Now I'm just fat with no excuse! and only three weeks to lose the fluff, AND the surgery bloat. ~sigh~ gotta stop eating that Dove brownie and fudge affair ice cream with the hard ganache chocolate making a crust over the whole top...mmm

The Days After

I had emergency surgery this weekend on an Ectopic pregnancy. My tube didn't rupture, but it was close. I have never been in that kind of pain before. Recovery is slow. I'm a fast healer, but it's hard not to move your abdomen in any way. Hubby went back to work today, but SIL has the kids for the day. So I'm alone, working out some stuff in my head, but it's all kinda fuzzy due to the darvocet :) I felt I needed this for me. I lay in bed a night and compose. During a motorcycle trip to Chicago once I wrote a whole book on breastfeeding. I want to spill my guts, I want to confess my deepest thoughts, anxieties. I have so many right now.