little letters

Dear Rex,

Just wondering why you woke up 8 times last night and insisted on calling me into your room and detailing each dream you had or explaining how you needed a drink of water or pointing to the part of your foot that wasn't working anymore.  Let's not do an encore of that performance tonight, thanks.  Also, I am wondering how you got to be so impossibly sweet and empathetic.  Thank you for always running backwards during a race between your brother, yourself and me to make sure that my feelings aren't hurt when I am losing and to cross the finish line with me.  I love you, bug. Love, Mom.

Dear Roanin,

We just booked the second surgery of your life for the end of this month.  Although it should be minor, the thought of not being by your side while you are put to sleep makes me feel like I am attempting to digest ten thousand razor blades.  Times a zillion.  As it turns out, this parenting gig is filled with all kinds of twists and turns and you happen to be the test guinea pig for the majority of the pitfalls.  Sorry about that.  Please promise not to hate me later for that and be bitter about your birth order.  One more thing - you are the bomb and watching your face when you play Guitar Hero is the equivalent of being hugged by ten thousand Care Bears.  I love you so much, baby bear.  Love, Mom.

Dear Shawn,

You are so important to me.  You have consistently provided a soft landing spot for every rough patch I have ever hit and every windfall that has come my way, in which I can wholeheartedly be myself and go through whatever I need to go through.  Your support is quiet, steadfast, and strong.  Thank you for not even needing me to ask you for this...you just knew to do it.  Please keep being this for me.  It is so important, and I might just shrivel up and die without it. You are my best friend and I love you most.  Love, me.

Dear Self,

Relax.  Breathe.  Take a moment to appreciate what is going on right this second.  Not what has happened or what is going to happen.  What is happening.  And then smile.  That's it.  Peace out.

The Forest for the Trees

It's true what they say.  Sometimes it is hard to see the forest for the trees…or something like that.  In truth, I don’t even know if that is the right analogy for what I’m thinking. 

Let me explain…

I woke up from another intense dream this morning.  I was sweating and just plain worn out.  Like I had worked out for the last 7 hours. 

The dream involved me being back with my old family.  It was my nephew’s wedding.  Roanin and Rex were ring bearers.  We were all in a hotel room.  All the usual players were there.  My dad stood out as being extremely annoyed and very persistent in making sure that I was complying with whatever needed to happen for others to be happy.  He was nagging me about getting the boys ready.  About them behaving.  About my appearance.  About the ceremony, even, of which I really had no idea about or no control over. 

He kept making comments, and I felt myself dancing around, just like I used to.  Except this dream was different in one way.  The difference was very dramatic and very noticeable to me.  I could finally see what was happening and hated it.  I could feel each comment, each expectation as if there were dull daggers being pushed into me.  And although I continued to try to comb Rexy’s unruly curls into submission and make Roanin leave his bow tie alone…I mentally was fighting against it.  And for once in my entire life…I mean, honestly, the first freaking time…I felt justified.  Inside, I believed myself. 

This is big because although the past has hosted me noticing and complaining about this family dynamic, I have never truly let myself believe it.  Not even when it got as bad as it did.  I never let myself believe that I didn’t somehow deserve this spot.  I never stop believing that this was my place.  I always did the dance because I believed that I should.  I wanted them to think I was a good dancer.

But last night, in this dream, it was like I was watching myself do the dance and I was sickened.  What the hell was I doing?  Why the hell was I acting like that?  Why on earth would I compromise myself and the lives of my children and the state of my marriage to this garbage? 

My counselor has suggested I have abandonment issues, specifically with my dad.  Because I am afraid to disappoint people, and lose them, I do what I think they want because I don’t feel like I deserve anything else.  I don’t deserve a voice. 

I watched myself all night respond to the exact same dynamic that has played out for the majority of my life.  For some reason, in the dream, my lower back became injured and completely wrenched up and I remember sneaking around the hotel room searching for some sort of muscle relaxer to relieve the pain.  But every time someone in the room suggested something to me, I relented in my search and but their request first, despite being completely hunched over and almost unable to walk toward the end of the dream.  I remember feeling not only disgusted with myself and my behavior, but so frustrated.

When I woke up, breathless, I immediately felt completely sick.  I felt like I had just watched a movie about myself, and that I was somehow both watching but also living the role on the screen.  It was the weirdest feeling because there was such a contrast between the two Sarahs.  And within just a few minutes of laying there and getting my bearings, I figured out just who the two Sarahs were.  The old Sarah and the new Sarah. 

We just wrapped up a two week staycation which extended over the entire holiday season.  Simply put, it was absolute heaven.  It was just Shawn and I and the boys, and we had absolutely no agenda.  We spent all of our time being together, sharing and listening, and just loving each other.  We only left the house to accomplish fun adventures and reveled in our peaceful time at home surrounded by just each other. 

Shawn commented after going back to work that it was the best vacation that he had ever had.  I agreed, wholeheartedly.  He explained that he couldn’t believe that he and I had not had one disagreement and that I was able to just really relax and sink into the whole “having nothing to do” mentality we were subscribing to.  I was go with the flow.  I was happy.  And he was right…I didn’t even have to try, it just came naturally.  All my guards were down, my expectations were in check and I was able to fully live in the company of my family. 

I think I have been here for a while.  The staycation just highlighted what has been going on for some time.  I don’t actually need the absence of a to-do list or blissful peace at home to be new Sarah.  I am still her on the days that suck.  I have actually turned into her without ever feeling a triumphant cross of the finish line.  And I am not finished, of course.  But somehow and at sometime, I have crossed over.  From old to new. 

And it was the visual of watching old Sarah from new Sarah’s eyes that made me realize it.  The feeling of complete disgust and shock I physically felt watching shook me.  It drained me.  When I woke, I had the same physical and emotional exhaustion that became normal for me when I was actually living that.  It is amazing how I had kind of forgotten how it felt…but there it was-clear as a bell.  My jaw was almost completely locked up from tension.  My stomach was in knots.  And when I swung my legs to the side of the bed to stand up, I realized that my lower back was so tight I had to lay back down and stretch it out just to be able to stand up straight. 

I am so thankful to be on this side.  The physical reminder of my former self is so reassuring.  It demonstrates that not only do I deserve happiness and love, but I am capable of living it and not capable of looking back. 

I finally am out of the trees and never want to see that forest again.

Holiday - Part 2

Yep, we made it to Christmas Day.  And it just kept getting better and better.  

I gotta say...I know what people are talking about when they suggest having a happy holiday.  With nothing to really do but be together and just hang, we ended up doing just that.  And it was wonderful.  I kinda cringe when I think about going back to real life.  Even more cringe-producing is the thought of actually cleaning this place up after all this.

The Holiday - Part 1

Christmas break has been so great...so unicorns and rainbows...I am going to have to split it into two posts.  It is just that good.  Shawn has been off for 2 weeks, it snowed, the word from Santa was he finished up all his business before the kids let out of school, it's just the four of us and we have been on serious vacay.  

And we haven't even gotten to Christmas yet.  *sigh*

the maze

I, like most I assume, don't really have a clear image of how I maneuvered my way around the awkward and yucky maze of childhood in which you figure out yourself and where you fit with your peers.  I remember bits and pieces, of course, of both the highs and the lows.  I remember moving to a new school in second grade.  I remember the apprehension before each first day of school and wondering if it was all going to be okay.  I remember in fourth grade one of the boys in my class using the word "boner" and feeling so out of it because I had no idea what that meant or why everyone else was laughing.  So I laughed anyway.  I remember being a freshman in high school and lying to all my girlfriends about the fact that I had started my period even though it would be another year before I actually did.  But I also remember being one of the first girls in my school to wear the "MC Hammer" long-crotched pants and loving that people asked me what they were and where they could get some.  I remember being what seemed like the only human in the entire high school who still brought a brown bag lunch and still eating it proudly while the others scarfed down Salisbury steak. 

Most of that maze seemed difficult, but overall I made it through.  Six years ago, or maybe even last year, if you would have asked me about it I would have shrugged it off as a rite of passage and something everyone goes through...not that big of a deal.  Because despite my struggle to figure out who I am and what I am worth, I have consistently remained outwardly confident.  I never hesitated to do what I wanted or say what I felt in front of my peers.  My hesitation was more centered on my actions and feelings in front of my family.  But my peers have always and continue to feel like a safe little haven where I can be who I want to be and do what I want to do.  I never hesitate to throw a party, to have too much wine, to second guess why I am in aisle 8 of the grocery store in the same pajama bottoms that I have worn two nights in a row, to tell a joke in front of a group or teach a class at the university.  It just comes naturally.

Now that I am a mama, and really within this last year, I see it from a different perspective, though.  I see it through the eyes of my eldest son.  A boy with fierce emotions and feelings.  A boy with an outwardly shy disposition.  A follower.  A pleaser.  And I have to tell you, folks...the view sucks.  I have begun to see an inward struggle (and more and more frequently an outward expression) in my little man's mind.  A struggle between what he may want to do and what he thinks his peers want him to do.  Refusing a hat on a frigid day because it is the same hat a little girl made fun of him in the week before.  Shying away from his favorite Spiderman shirt for fear of other kids thinking he "looks silly."  Reporting to me after I ask if he worked on his South America map at school, that so-and-so didn't feel like working on it today so we chose something else.  Not including his gregarious little 3-yr-old brother on the playground because his big boy friends don't want little boys to play (this one didn't go over well with Mama Bear). 

It has started ever so subtly, but has struck a nerve in this nervous mommy who tends to freak out with each new parenting challenge.  I am not so naive to think that this doesn't happen to every kid at some point in time.  I am also not arrogant enough to believe that my children are destined to be leaders and trendsetters and problem-free.  But, I am the type of person who thrives on watching human dynamics and makes every attempt to analyze situations and ward off problems that are within my control. 

But, perhaps that is the problem?  Maybe this little boy feels so secure and well tended to that when he enters the big, bad world without his servant problem-solver attendant mother, he defers to whoever he feels most comfortable with to make his decisions for him.  Even if those kids are making poor decisions. 

I don't necessarily think that being a follower is a negative.  Although, our society tends to send this message with leader being at the top of every positive feedback model known to man.  In all honesty, hearing the words "he likes to follow" at a parent-teacher conference was a bit unnerving.  But the more I thought about it in the days that followed, the more I saw the equal strength and good in that particular label.  I thought about the different roles that leaders and followers play - each being important.  I thought about the humility and patience it takes to be a follower.  I thought about the arrogance and aggressiveness I have used as a leader, sometimes resulting in disaster or hurt.  So, as foreign as it is to me, I accept and feel honored to watch and learn from this style.  Sometimes he will need this hat, and sometimes he will need to practice wearing the hat of leadership.  I know he is capable of both.

BUT, I want him to find his niche, with the main focus on being comfortable being himself.  I am frantically searching the back corners of my mind to figure out what the secret is and how I can help support him and encourage him through the first steps of this crazy maze. 

The worst news?  He is only 5 years old.  Does this really start this early?

The best news?  He is only 5 years old.  We have plenty of time to figure it all out, and I have plenty of love. 

girl interrupted

The soundtrack to my day goes something like this...

"MOM!  Mommy!  I need a snack...I need some juice...I need to go pee pee...I can't get my pants open!...I just peed on the floor in the bathroom...can I have a friend over...can you get me a snack...Roanin just hit me...Rex stole my stickers...Professor just ate my beef jerky...I can't find my sock...I'm not ready for bed...I am not ready to get up...I am hungry...I am thirsty...I can't remember which one is my underwear drawer...I NEED YOU!  MOM!!!"

And the thing is, the soundtrack seems to be set on repeat. 

And sometimes I let it frustrate me.  But I recently read a new perspective (sorry...I am so bogged down with requests I can't even remember where I read it).  Basically, the person was explaining that every time you get interrupted, it means you are needed.  Someone needs you. 

So in these long days of mothering littles, I suddenly have music in my ears all day long.  Of two little boys who still need me.  I hope I never forget the sound of it.

*photos by Rex after hijacking my phone