Category Archives: family

The Courtship

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They met on Facebook. Then texting, finally talking on the phone.

I was kept updated as things progressed. As she went from hundreds of candidates, to one.

They had so  much in common. Went to the same concert once, sat in the same row. Was it fate??

Both embarking on a journey, deciding if they want to share the experience.

Finally. It was time to meet.

They met at my house, and drove together from here. Big smiles and “hello’s” all around before they left.

And then the waiting.

A text update to me during a bathroom break..”I’m so nervous!”

More updates later: “We went shopping and now we’re at Mitchell’s. We’re bonding, I think this is going well.”

Dancing around the BIG QUESTION…. feeling each other out.

And then, it happened.

“Mom, we’re rooming together!”

She picked a roommate for college. They picked each other. With wide and hopeful smiles, they then moved to picking out all the things they are going to do to their dorm room, to make it “theirs.”

I swear this was more stressful than a first date. At the end of the night, I felt like we should be announcing an engagement…..it felt so HUGE.

And it was, wasn’t it??

tantrum or possession??

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Last night, I attempted to put Jenna to bed.

It was late, because we just kind of dragged our feet, and it was Friday, and then daddy came home and things got delayed even more….

We did the potty thing, the teeth brushing thing…. and then got settled in bed.

I am not sure what happened next, it was like a flip switched and suddenly I had this feral child trying to escape from me. There was screaming. A LOT of screaming. The kind that has to be shredding the back of her throat, yet she continued. A lot of trying to climb off the bed, a lot of “Mommy!!!!! I want downstairs!!!!”.

Her distress prompted a couple visits from daddy, convinced I was torturing her, and wanting me to let  her come back downstairs.

I finally gave in. Wouldn’t you know it…. she screamed downstairs too??

It was one of those fits that has to just taper off…..no matter how long it takes. She was too far gone to rationalize this.

Back upstairs. I thought if I held her firmly, not TIGHT, this might help calm her down. In the same way you wrap the psych ward patients in a straight jacket and maybe a cold, wet, tightly wrapped sheet during an outburst.

I held her in my swaddling way…. speaking softly and trying to calm her down.

This is when she started to really scare me. She may have been speaking in guttural Latin, I’m not sure. Bucking and thrashing with superhuman strength, I fully expected a glowing pentagram to show up on her forehead and for her to start biting my face.

I let go, didn’t seem to help after all.

Somehow it ended… Oh yea, I was back downstairs with her by then. Sitting in a kitchen chair. Googling 2 year tantrums and child possessions.

Guess what happened at 3am?

More of the same. This time screaming for popcorn, downstairs, water.

Fell asleep as I sat holding her on the kitchen floor, after drinking water and screaming a bit more.

This morning she woke up late. So did I. We were in my bed, me terrified to move until she wakes up.

Her little shaggy head pops up, and her little voice chirps “Hi Mommy!, I want Paw Patrol!” Seems completely normal again. But I don’t trust her.

I will not turn my back on her....

I will not turn my back on her….

stranger danger

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I imagine most parents are a lot like me, wanting their kids to be safe, and make good choices in life. We preach it, we drill it, going over scenarios like “what would you do if a really nice lady came up to you and wanted to show you her adorable new puppy, waiting in her car??” We watch the hesitation on our kids faces….and are ready to yell out the ALWAYS right answer…

“Run away!! Yell for help!” “Don’t touch the puppy!!!”

You would think these lessons, harped on for YEARS, would sink in and kind of, I don’t know…work! Right??

Enter my sister.

She is not a preschooler. She is in fact, a grown up. She is THIRTY.

I happened to call her today on my way home from work. She answers but the connection isn’t great. She tells me she just got to New York on a business trip and is heading to her hotel, wants to call me when she gets there.

I was getting dinner for the kids when she calls back.

“Do you know why I couldn’t talk to you before??? I thought I was being kidnapped!

What?!

She tells me the following:

She got to the airport, and was getting her luggage. A nice looking, well dressed man walks up to her and asks her if she will need a taxi. “Well yes!, I actually DO need a taxi!” At that moment, she is probably thinking about how nice New Yorkers really are, not like the rumors at all.

This guy, let’s call him Mystery Cab Man, then asks her to follow him.

She is alone. She follows him. As he walks AWAY from the taxi area… all the way to some service elevator.

She feels a little hesitant, but doesn’t want to be rude, so she follows. Because God forbid, we hurt the feelings of our potential kidnappers, rapists… whatever.

They take the elevator to a parking garage. Much better place for foul play…

She asks, probably timidly, why isn’t he parked with the other taxi drivers? Apparently he has some sort of understanding with the airport and doesn’t have to stand in line with all the other drivers.

By now, she is feeling nervous.

I love this next part… she calls her husband as the guy tells her to wait while he gets the car. She doesn’t run away…in case you know, he’s not really a killer. She calls instead to run it by her husband so he can tell her what to do. But, mystery cab man comes back too fast, so she quickly pretends she’s great, everything is perfect, she’s safe in New York. “Hey honey”, she tells her husband, you know that tracking app I installed on my phone? I installed it on yours too, so you will be able to see where I am in New York at any time!” Very smooth.

There is no way this guy is going sell her into sex slavery or murder her in cold blood now! Jesus, she’s invincible!! He definitely WON’T just throw your phone with the *fake* tracking device in the garbage can before getting rid of you. She’s a genius, that one.

As they drive to her hotel (hopefully), she notices that she is not in a cab. She is in a Mercedes. It’s not yellow.  It’s older, his window doesn’t work. There is no meter. There is no typical taxi stuff inside. She asks then for some identification. He gives her a business card, no photo ID.

This is what a cab looks like....Patty....do you SEE this???

This is what a cab looks like….Patty….do you SEE this???

After some more questions about random things in the city, her way of deciding if he is legit or not, there is silence. She is in the back of his car, pretty sure at this point that he is taking her to some dirty warehouse or a dock somewhere. This is when I call her. She needs to hang up because her phone is almost dead, and she needs to stay on google maps to track his progress.

Because if she notices that he is not going to her hotel, she is in the absolute best position-in his back seat, on the highway-to do something about it.

She is officially waiting for the announcement of impending death. And hoping he won’t kill her because “people know she’s here”.

Well, she made it. Doesn’t even know how much he charged, paid him whatever. Called me when she got to her room,  explained that she really couldn’t talk until she knew for sure she wasn’t going to end up in a ditch.

I marvel at her politeness in the face of being potentially kidnapped. It is really RUDE to tell a strange man who is leading you into an isolated area that you may not want to go. Far better to just go along with it, and hope for the best.

Now, as I alternate between laughing at her lack of judgment and berating her for it, I have a pit in my stomach because she has just demonstrated my worst fear. How am I going to stop my own kids from being taken advantage of when we have all, at times, allowed things to happen that make us uncomfortable or even scared? Because we don’t want to be rude, or cause any commotion…lest we bother someone or hurt their feelings.

So we need to step up our stranger danger games. I’m adding in the mystery cab man scenario. I clearly need to give little sister a refresher course. She will learn. And thank God this time she was lucky, but better safe than sorry. When I’m done with her she won’t be taking rides from any shady drivers, and won’t leave home without her mace and rape whistle.

date night, interrupted.

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health.syr.edu

So that was pretty funny, planning a date night ahead of time. At least I had the beautiful anticipation of it for a few days…..

And then I got sick. And Sammy got sick.

Between the two of us, there is not much Kleenex left in the house. Noses are red, throats are sore, bodies are aching.

So yesterday I decided we could have date night IN the house. With the kids (thankfully no one is vomiting….yet).

All we needed was sparkling grape juice and BAM, it’s special.

This was my plan this morning. By this afternoon, as my right ear continues to throb and my head feels ready to explode, I am lowering my standards. It’s 10 degrees outside, I just don’t think we can survive that right now.

I am not leaving the house for sparkling grape juice. Yes, this was what I thought we needed to separate us from “normal night”, but now…. I think if I just use fancy glasses….yea, that will do it.

And…. I need to make sure I get hubby to pick up a fancy dinner somewhere, because I am also not cooking for our new revised version of date night. I’m on deaths doorstep here, it’s not a pretty sight.

But we are going to have our fake date night dinner if it kills me. It might.

Just reminds me of why we don’t TALK about things that we really want to happen, it’s like a huge cosmic jinx. As soon as it’s out there, known, that you want to do something, are looking forward to something in particular, you can bet the universe is going to try taking you down a notch.

Usually, it’s the kids getting sick, or hurt. I didn’t see ME getting sick, that was kind of a surprise.

Good job Universe, keeping me on my toes.

Date Night

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Shhhhhhh, don’t tell him, but this weekend…. I’m taking the hubby on a date.

We don’t usually do this, hardly ever. I can count on one hand how many time we have gone anywhere alone in years.

Sometimes though, the stars align….

I thought about it today, a friend we wanted to take out for her birthday has other plans. I already thought about getting a sitter so we could spend time and enjoy her company, actually focus on her instead of the kids.

She’s busy. Ok, fine, some other time.

But wait…. WE could still go out. Alone!

I know the perfect place. We just talked about it this past week. It’s not a fancy place, it’s not even an especially good place. But we went there early in our dating history, and we both remember one night in particular when I got lost trying to walk out the door, ended up in the downstairs bar while he waited behind for me to realize where I was, and watched as I tried to figure out how I got there. Silly thing, but he laughed at me and I felt kind of embarrassed. It became somehow cute to him, that I could lose my way so easily.

Probably now it’s not that funny to him, but at least back then it was endearing.

So I’m taking him there. And we can sit at the table, and we’ll hold hands and tell each other how much we love each other, and he’ll tease me about how lucky I am to have him, I’ll tell him how lucky HE is to have me. Then he’ll get serious and say I’m right, he IS the lucky one. And he’ll thank me for loving him, and for our beautiful children.

I know this because he does this all the time, we always have this little exchange, but it never gets old.

And then we can go home, and stay up late with the little ones, watching movies and eating popcorn.

At the end of the night, daddy and Sammy will be snoring together on his Cars couch, I’ll be on this computer, and all will be right with the world.

Confession

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Thirteen Reasons Why, a novel by Jay Asher

Thirteen Reasons Why, a novel by Jay Asher

So, I’m still an avid reader. I stopped reading for enjoyment during my quest for that Masters degree. After school was over, I actually started using my Kindle to download books. Holy cow, I can’t believe I thought I preferred turning pages and holding a book in my hands. I have access to a world of literature at any second, I can read in the DARK! It’s become something of an obsession, I still don’t sleep until close to 2am because I’m busy reading. That is ME time, unless of course Jenna wakes up and needs to sleep completely on top of me because nothing else is good enough.

Anyway….

Sometimes I will read a book that I find amazing. Life changing. Powerful. Thought provoking. It pops into my head during the day if I leave it unfinished. I can’t wait to get into bed at night and get back to it. I watch the little corner of the screen to see how much of the book I have left, happy and sad to be close to the end, not wanting it to end, but NEEDING to know how it ends.

Sometimes a book will not be exactly enjoyable, but necessary.

I finished such a story today. One of those books that gets in your head and leaves you feeling a little “off” if you have to stop and attend to real life while the story just hangs there, waiting for you to come back. I knew it would have a message, but didn’t expect the impact. It was a book about a girl in high school, she commits suicide and leaves a message for 13 people to hear after she is gone. These people all had some impact on her decision to take her life, some big and some little.

I found it hard to read, and hard to put down. It made me remember things about high school that I would rather forget.

The book is called Thirteen Reasons Why. Written by Jay Asher.

I’d never heard of it before, but you may have. Looks like it has been a best seller at some point.

As I read, and as I finished, I thought a lot about how we treat each other at that age. In high school, middle school. It can be brutal. We focus more on bullying now than ever before, but so many of us have experiences that we will never forget, things that may not seem like such a big deal to anyone else.

I remember being miserable in high school at times. Didn’t help that I wasn’t thrilled with life at home either. I did think of suicide, but I never actually had a plan. I would bet most kids have had at least a fleeting thought. Isn’t that part of being a teen? SHOULD it be??

I will not tell the silly details of how I was bullied, the times I felt stupid, ugly, insignificant. I remember some moments very well, but these are not the things that come to mind when I read this book.

Instead, I think of a shameful moment I will never forget. A moment that I will always regret.

Sitting in class one day. A girl behind me who was a sort of friend. Less popular than even me. Maybe I was feeling particularly low that day, needing to make someone feel lower than me.

I turned around, looked into her eyes. And told her she was UGLY. That’s it. It was like I was telling her the time. I don’t believe it was premeditated at all, I wouldn’t have ever had the guts to carry that plan out. Her face crumpled. I scoffed, said something like “Come on, I’m just kidding!, Geez!” Made light of it, I remember her confused smile. She wanted to believe I was joking.

Why did I DO that?

Not only have I never forgotten that moment, I swear I think of it more now then when it happened. And if I can remember it so vividly, do you think SHE can? When she thinks back to her school days, will I forever be the girl who called her “ugly”?

I saw her years and years later. We were “grown up”, in orientation together for our new nursing jobs. I thought about what I’d done to her, thinking maybe this was my chance to make up for that. She was nice, just like before. Didn’t seem to remember or at least didn’t seem to care about that horrible moment. I never brought it up, embarrassed and also not wanting to hurt her again. There was no sense of resolution for me, didn’t lessen my guilt or shame, even if she didn’t remember.

I hate the me that did that. I have used that example in trying to teach my own teens about how/why the kids in school are sometimes so horrible to each other. Especially in high school.

Check out this book. If you have ever been in high school, I think you won’t be able to help relating to it. Let your kids read it, if they are old enough. Remember, the things we do and say can have a power beyond what we expect.

Kids with Autism can be stalkers…or not.

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him and her <3

him and her ❤

Ever realize you’ve said something to someone that may be offensive? And then try, desperately and unsuccessfully to grab those words and stuff them back in your mouth, choking them down before they register with the offended person??

This is me on an almost daily basis. It is ALWAYS accidental, I don’t want to offend. Rather, if I DID want to offend, I would make sure it didn’t look like such an awkward accident.

So today I was talking to a friend on the phone. I don’t have many friends. (see above).

She is someone I find cool, funny, witty, and bitingly sarcastic. I appreciate it very much. Reminds me of my “best friend”, who I recently introduced her to. I believe they plan to run away together, leaving me far behind.

This friend has a son the same age as my Sammy. The boys have been friends since the days of little gym, it’s been a few years. Well, we moms became friends and our kids thankfully went along with the friendship we created for them so we could hang out together. I think by now the boys really ARE friends too.

My friends son has autism. It’s not a dirty word, but it sure has some dark connotations.

I have known her during the time she was seeking a diagnosis, during the testing and after the diagnosis. She has killed herself to be the best mother she can be, and provide her son with every opportunity to learn, grow, and socialize. He has blossomed, and is so far beyond his age in intelligence. (He could read way before Sammy knew the whole alphabet). He can sit still now, before he was too restless. I see him and I see this boy. I don’t see “Autism”.

I know this is because I am not his mom. I see the easy part, the product of all the hard work, therapy, and tears she’s shed, worried about his future, and her resolve to give him a “normal” life.

I’ve heard how he has been disciplined for doing things that MY son does, but his behavior is attributed to his diagnosis, not the fact that he is a 4 year old BOY. I see what this does to his mom, what it would do to me if my kid was singled out and treated differently because of something he has been labeled with, even if those around him are doing the same thing…

So anyway.

He recently developed quite a fascination with my daughter. Poor Sammy does not exist at the moment. We are together, and he is just enthralled with my little girl. Maybe it’s her awesome boots, her winning personality, her “smallness” compared to the boys. He asks her how tall she is, he likes to hear her talk.

At her birthday party last week, he kept falling down and waiting for her to “save” him…we captured some shots of him leading Jenna by the hand around the gym. Jenna was still asking about him after we got home. We moms find it adorable, joke about arranged marriages….

My husband has been in a state of terror since finding out we were having a girl. Although he wanted a daughter, the reality has him scared of sex, scared of tampons, scared of everything. He would half-joke about wishing we were having a boy instead. I didn’t find it funny. Since her birth, he is in love with her, but still so worried about her, and all the things that could happened to his baby girl. And, in his culture, there is NO dating. period.

So his reaction to the kids “romance” was not as positive. I joked with my friend about how he can’t handle thinking of a boy liking his daughter, his response was more of an “Oh No!”

I could tell I hurt her, although she said nothing. We hung up and I had a heaviness in my chest.

Then she texted me, maybe we should not meet up the next day so my husband doesn’t get upset.

I could have taken that as her joking sarcasm, but I knew better.

And so followed a little text conversation, a little baring of souls. I made sure she knew my husbands issues are about him, dealing with having a daughter. But my friend has been conditioned to take things in a way that highlight her sons diagnosis. It’s not fair. But she has to be ready, because so many things do become about autism, and it’s exhausting for her.

Her nephew, also autistic, gave flowers to a girl in school that he liked. Response from the school? “Careful, ‘those kids’ often become stalkers”.

I hate the judgment and the ignorance that forces my friend to second guess everything her son does, and everything said about him.

I am not an expert in autism. I do have friends with autistic children. I have a son, without autism, who has most definitely stalked at LEAST one friend at school. My oldest child, in 2nd grade, ATE a boys entire art project over several days time. (In her defense, it was made of Reese’s Pieces). My kids have all done weird, unusual, and/or embarrassing things. They continue to do so.

Why can’t a kid with autism still be a kid, and do all the stupid kid things we have all done? Without having their actions only seen in the context of being done by an autistic kid?

My convoluted point? ANY kid can grow up to be a stalker…

Little Miss Nasty

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I'm a sassy girl :)

I’m a sassy girl 🙂

So Jenna is officially 2. I think the terrible two’s started about 6 months ago, but according to her dad, it’s closer to 2 years ago……

She’s hilarious. And she’s nasty. Really nasty. Oh, wait. Sassy…. she’s sassy. Sounds so much better, right?

Now, in her defense, I will say if people didn’t just assume she wanted them to talk to her, or touch her, things would go much better for everyone. I guess in her 2 year old mind, she may wonder why it’s ok for someone to just walk up and start pawing at her, when as adults, we would never tolerate that kind of behavior from someone.

So this is a typical scenario: We go somewhere, or someone comes over to visit. Jenna is freaking adorable as most 2 year olds are….. and people just can’t help coming to try talking to her, or touching one of her little pig tails jutting out from the top of her head.

“DON’T TOUCH ME!!!”

She shouts in her little smoker-voice. Her scowl is THE BEST. She is SO offended. So everyone laughs…….. and then someone else tries to see what happens.

“DON’T TOUCH MY HAIR!!”

Laughter all around. Permanent scowl on her face. A few more tries, with the same result from touching her arm, her shirt, her hair again. She doesn’t cry, she just yells at everyone. And swats. She will swat at you eventually if you keep trying to make contact.

Her most common one-liners include:

“It’s not funny!”

“Go away!”

“I want Paw Patrol!”

“You are a bad boy!” (of course, because it is not possible for girls to be bad)

The beginning of a scowl. You may wonder if she wants to cut you.....

The beginning of a scowl. You may wonder if she wants to cut you…..

Her father has given up. One look at her these days and she is telling him off. This is because he loves, LOVES to tease her. He will grab her, kiss her repeatedly, pick her up and swing her around. All the while she is screaming at him to stop, put her down, leave her alone!! Once away from him, she gives her best scathing glare, making sure he sees her doing it.

On the other hand, she is often beyond polite. She apologizes to you if you knock her down, “Oh, sorry!”. She asks so nicely for me to put Paw patrol on my kindle before she sits on the potty so she can watch it while waiting forever to pee. “Oh, thank you, Mommy!” She plays grocery store with me and always gives me the best deal on produce, I can use all the expired coupons I want, and she never remembers to swipe my credit card. She randomly expresses her love for me, and tells me she’s MY angel.

cute2scowl2

She has the CUTEST smile.

I like my nasty baby. She’s amazingly smart, and I would like to say just very,very discerning with whom she associates. Like, it’s pretty much just me right now. I’m cool with that.

The becoming that happens to us

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dddda

You are 17 “and a half”, as you like to remind me.

As if being 18 will make you a real adult.

Not 18, not 20, not 28……

I think real adulthood settles in somewhere in the 30’s, I FINALLY feel like I’ve gotten there. But probably 15 years from now I’ll be thinking how I still didn’t have a clue back then….. when I was just 39.

I think a lot about how much I’ll miss you, because again, you like to remind me how soon you’ll be leaving. Off to college, adventure, LIFE.

You laugh at me because I finally start tearing up every time we talk about it, when before I was just on your case about not missing deadlines and getting all those college visits scheduled.

Of course I love you. But I have grown to really, really like you. The person you are. I dread you being gone from my day to day routine. I feel sad for myself, and for everyone that will have to put up with me after you leave.

I was driving home today, thinking about how people become parents, and more specifically how women become moms.

You are the person who first made me a mom.

When did I start to FEEL like a mom?

It wasn’t when you lived inside of me or even  just after having you. I wanted you, I loved you, but I can look back now and say no, I didn’t feel like a mom yet.

I grew into it, as you grew.

We reached milestones together, mine as your mother, and yours as a growing child. My self consciousness as a parent gone by the time you hit preschool….and I fought with anyone who would dare stop you from hugging your friends goodbye, or from keeping chapstick in your backpack.

I became strong for you, from being your mom.

I’m still becoming, I don’t think we ever really stop. And again, you have been the catalyst for so many of the things I have become… A mom, the mom of a teenager, soon to be the mom of a child who has grown up enough to leave home…and one day the mom left at home as the rest of your siblings follow you.

And I like to believe the things I tell you about our relationship. How it will change as you grow older, and right now I know you are so ready to get away…but that eventually you will come back. I tell you how close we will be, even closer. I believe this, and want you to believe it too.

You are becoming independent, and I know I’ve pushed a bit lately, worried I’ve sheltered you too much and wanting to make sure you can handle it alone…ordering pizza by yourself and making your own appointments…buying your own tampons. (Alright, we both know I’m going to send you care packages with all that stuff plus chocolate…). But still, being away is going to be so new and exciting…that for a while I am going to become more of an obligation. You will HAVE to call your mom, you will HAVE to spend time with us on breaks from school…you won’t need me the way you did before.

But time has this way of going on…and as you are becoming an adult, a wife, a mom, I will be there right along with you. Becoming your friend, a mother-in-law, a grandmother…

I am so grateful for this journey, and for having you to share it with me.

Noise pollution

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On any given day…. for any variety of reasons, or maybe for no reason…. you will hear a sound in my house.

It’s a horrible whiny, screechy noise. It can last and last depending on what started it. It makes my ears want to bleed.

It’s Sammy.

I’ve been told this is normal for his age. A completely normal part of development.

Lately it has been happening when his baby sister decides to take something of his, or he wants to take something of hers and she won’t let go. It happens when his brother doesn’t want to play with him right now. It happens when he doesn’t want his dinner, when he doesn’t want to wear an undershirt, when he doesn’t want mom to retain her sanity much longer…

You can’t reason with it. I’ve tried.

Some days, I swear the only noise he makes is a whine. He can speak in a whine, I think sometimes he actually forgets what his voice is supposed to sound like, I know I have. The older kids get fed up, and tell him he’s a baby. Then he comes crying to me, like a baby, telling me that they called him a baby.

How ironic, he is, at this very moment sitting on my knee…..crying/whining as he tells me that Jacob told him he’s a baby. I’m choosing to pretend I can’t hear him. Sometimes I tell him I can’t hear that whiny noise…I am only capable of hearing normal speech.

Conversely, his sister is almost two. She does not whine and rarely cries. She usually tries to comfort him when he is having his mini meltdowns during the day, much to his displeasure. She’ll pat him on the head, “It’s ok Sammy”.  This usually makes him cry/whine more about people touching him.

Today, playing number flashcards….. his older brother said “11” before he did. This is what happened:

The master of distress

The master of distress

We had to put the card back, and let Sammy say the number first….Amazingly his smile came right back!!

Over time, you can develop a good ear for the real cry over the fake cry. Sometimes, during a good fake cry/whine session, I will take photos to admire my sweet cry-baby, and keep them to share with him or future girlfriends when he is older. I think taking a picture is much healthier than yelling at him or rashly putting a plastic bag over my head to stop the noise. Being able to laugh at the situation, is often a saving grace. And sarcasm. Sarcasm helps a whole lot.

photoff

I know it looks serious. He is a great crier, especially when he fakes an injury and can continue crying about it for 30 minutes straight because he is secretly mad that he doesn’t have a REAL injury…

This too, shall pass. Right? Right??!!