We are on vacation.
Hashtag: life; reality; parenting; humor
No rest for the wicked…
Oh, wait. I mean the mommies (smile and wink).
Greetings from La Jolla sunny California!
We remember many days and events of history and our own lives each and every year. Many are celebrations of excitement. Like birthdays, anniversaries, announcements of babies, and so forth.
But we, collectively as the world, also remember the other days around the world. The ones where great sadness took place. And they are remembered for the ages in different ways.
While the first celebrations usually include cake and balloons and banners and shouting and laughing and running and clapping, the second are usually remembered with flags, marches, speeches, wreaths, memories.
My family has lived trauma—where everyone has miraculously emerged on the other side of it.
But to say that we made it through okay would not be accurate.
We made it through. Our son is alive. And we get to watch him grow.
But this trauma has changed me in a million and one ways.
The first being gratefulness. I look at my living, breathing, running, crazy happy boy and rejoice that I get to walk life with him. And every moment he is alive, I hold him tight. I don’t ever want to let go.
But that brings me to my second feeling. The one that makes me cry. Sadness. Sorrow. Heartbreak.
I received my baby back into my arms to live another day. And I know that this is a gift. A gift beyond. Not every mother nor father gets to receive their child back into their arms. Alive.
Sometimes those arms get to only hold their baby one last time.
And, as tightly as they hold their baby, they have to let go.
I know, one day, I will have to let go of Maxwell, but it is not the same.
Which brings me to now. My last feeling is “It’s okay“.
That’s what I hope the mommies and daddies are telling me. The ones that did not get their babies back. The ones that had to let go.
That’s it’s okay to celebrate my son. And his life.
That’s it’s okay to be happy.
That’s it’s okay to hold him tight.
And it’s okay to not want to let go.
That’s it’s okay. Because that is what they would do had life been different for them.
I can’t even write this without sobbing. My three year is sitting next to me constantly touching my “creers” as they are running down my cheeks, touching them lightly, somehow sensing these tears carry a heavy weight: Sorrow and guilt entwined with personal gratefulness.
Yet, I still hope in my ears I hear the words, “It’s okay.” Because I know for their own lives it is not okay. And never should have been. Yet it is for them that way just like for me it is a different way.
A way I will never understand…
The other day, my husband and I were discussing “This time of year”, and that’s when my son, Maxwell, heard us praying, “Thank you, Lord, for giving us back Maxwell.”
After we were done praying, Maxwell looked at us with wide eyes and a goofy grin, saying, “Mommy, you’re silly.”
Because, to him, he is fine.
He doesn’t know the great battle that was fought for his life.
He just knows he lives.
And I just held him.
Trauma has changed our family.
Trauma nearly broke our family. Not just my son’s life nearly being ripped from our lives but our marriage, too.
Trauma has made us work a lot harder. Trauma has made us think a lot more. Trauma has opened up our hearts to a bigger world—a world of immense suffering. Yet overcoming.
Trauma has made us more empathetic and understanding.
Trauma has taught us how to cry freely.
Trauma has caused us to put on glasses of reality. That life will not always deal you rainbows sprinkled with sugar.
And it has made every day of our living, breathing, walking, talking lives more important. More beautiful. More fragile. More.
Trauma has taken judgement out of me and made me crumble.
Trauma has made me a mess and yet picked me up.
Trauma has torn a huge hole in my soul and then healed it up.
Trauma has shown me the harshness of the world and then the compassion that surrounds the world.
And trauma has taught me that I am not alone.
Trauma has changed my very core.
Maybe, just maybe, one day I will say thank you to God above for this trauma.
Until then, I’ll simply say “Thank you” to God for bringing me through it.
“But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.” Lamentations 3:21-23.
Here are some sites you can click on to help you understand your trauma:
Photo caption reads: And she’s OFF!
So, unless something super funny pops into my life in the near future or something that just hits me where I super feel it, you won’t be seeing too much of me on this page for some amount of seconds, days, weeks, months…I’m getting my writing on…chapter book style!
I am on chapter 2 of my first book for youth. It’s a lot harder than one would imagine. First of all, I gotta create a character those tweens want to read.
So far, my biggest of all my brood is my judge. I look to her, as she reads it, for her laughter or tears (ah-just kidding…no tears. yet!) and I especially hone in those moments when she raises her eyebrows in confusion.
The thing driving me crazy about an 11-year-old critic…she doesn’t understand that writing is writing and editing comes NEXT. She is over there correcting so many mistakes I wonder if she is even reading anything at all 😉
But—good news in the 11-year-old world—she sat next to me this evening and asked if I had written any more.
Whoop-whoop. Chalk that one up for the mom score!
When do I write this said book?
When my two littlest are at Polish preschool on Tuesdays and Wednesdays. I have 2 hours of me time. Okay—that’s stretching it a bit far. It’s more like, take away the 50 interruptions, I have about 1 hour and 10 minutes to write.
I never knew my brain could work so fast.
Then, on occasions, when the brain isn’t in the fuzz-bucket, I try and write a bit when the stars come out and the snoring commences around the house.
Unfortunately for me, I am not a sharp-witted night owl anymore. Those days left me once I had #3.
My goal???? You may ask. Even if you don’t, I’ll let you know…
1 Chapter a week.
I have already scoured the net for all of those newbies looking for new authors, and found most are not interested in my super cute children’s books that I have written—but many are interested in chapter books for middle-agers.
We’ll see how this goes.
One of the sagest pieces of advice I read while checking out all of the peeps out there looking for writers:
Your first book is just that. Your first book. Keep writing. Edit. And write some more.
This wisdom brings me back to what my good ol’ ma and pa always said, “Try and then try some more.” Or “Try again”
In any and every case, you gotta begin somewhere. Today I choose to begin.
Therefore, unless life throws me a major hilarious curveball that just is a MUST for this blog, or I find some piece of psychological wisdom that is a MUST share for the sanity of parents … or if there is just too good to pass up cultural experience that lands in my lap—or I just feels (yes, I wrote feels as it was how I said it in my head) as if I must write to bring the lot to tears…
I hope to not see ya from here too much in this present day. No offense and hopefully none taken.
Here’s to words. Brain power. Creativity. And bringing imaginations to soaring heights…Or just simply entertaining kids because I love both of those things: kids; entertainment.
Best of all—through written words. Where they have to close their eyes to soar into their world of imaginations…
Which, as we all know, is the best way to fly!
Here’s to up,
If you’re not already following this blog, I hope that you’ll hit the follow button and join my journey—even if it will be randomly sporadic!
Amazing. Tears. Beauty. Gumption!
“So I will try…”
“So I will try…”
Let me tell you, beautiful souls out there. Maybe, just maybe, you are walking through a dark moment in your own lives.
A moment where perhaps you have given up on your dreams, let them slide, or thought they died.
There could be a reason why.
You are sick.
Your marriage is in trouble.
You lost your job.
You are running out of money.
Many big, strong reasons to put something to the side. At least for some time.
But, take the heart and voice of Mandy Harvey and realize that even if you put something to the side for a moment DOES NOT MEAN that you should not revisit it later…
When the time is right.
“The only thing in the way is me…So I will try.”
And when that time comes, make sure that you do just that! Try.
Enjoy the watch. Bring tissues. You’ll need them.
Here she is, Mandy Harvey! May your heart be touched!
Tomorrow, June 1st, is a very big day in Poland. It is one day where the country stops and revolves around the children!
They are celebrated, hugged, loved, and spoiled.
And it was created to remind the world that the children need “Protection” === that the children should not have to fend for themselves—that we, as adults, should do everything in our power to protect earth’s most precious resource—its children!
That children should not be enslaved, abused, forgotten, stripped of their innocence, or abandoned.
That we, HUMANS, stand up and say, “You, child, are BEYOND precious to us! We are here to stand up for you.”
Whether or not we all do a good enough job of that, I say—We collectively don’t. But there are those out there that do fight the good fight to #rescuetheforgotten! Find a charity that does that, or, please, choose to join our fight!
On top of that, this week, I am going to hug my children to let them know that THEY ARE LOVED! That they are NOT FORGOTTEN! That they have a mom and dad that are HERE to protect them.
I wish we all would do the same for so many more—but, as Mother Teresa so clearly puts it time and time again, the BEST way that we can begin this fight is at home!
“Love begins by taking care of the closest ones – the ones at home.”
And hopefully through our love for them, they will also go forward and LOVE so many more!
Happy Children’s Day, my most precious—-Adelyne, Maxwell, and Josephine. Mommy and Daddy love you more than life. Thank you for walking this world’s path with us. May you grow to see the value in every precious soul and share the love of Jesus with each person you meet. I hope that you have a carefree and beautiful Dzien Dziecka!
So I thought I was crazy. After all, my daughter is only 11…but it turns out I am not crazy—my daughter is changing from my small little girl into a budding teen. And the amazing changes that take place in the teen’s brain are astonishing!
I wish I listened to this podcast last year when she was just 10 to help me prepare for this new phase of her life. Perhaps I would have helped her enter it with more patience. But better late than never, right?!
I hope this podcast helps each of you, as well, as it speaks of all of those crazy changes taking place in their brains—all the pruning going on.
Seriously…we just had a melt-down crying battle over hair on Monday. I didn’t listen to this until Tuesday—MAN! It would have really helped me as Mommy on Monday had I known a few of these reasons behind her reactions and how I aggravated it instead of helping her through it.
Anyhow, I guess what I’m really saying is this: if you have a boy or girl either entering their teen years or are SMACK in the middle of them, this podcast will help you be a better and more understanding parent!
Enjoy the listen and be encouraged!
I am pretty sure I just ate candy my son gave me from his grubby fingers—and I am not sure the last time he washed his hands. Or went to the bathroom and forgot to wash his hands. I am actually gagging a little bit right now. Really. My stomach is not feeling so well. Hashtag “truemom”. EATING NASTY GERMS FROM GRUBBY DIRTY FINGERS. Sigh.
Therefore, let’s just say that I am VERY VERY VERY happy to be celebrating the upcoming day about ME in Poland. Dzien Matki. May 26th. Mother’s Day.
In Poland, Mother’s Day is the same day year after year after year. Kind-of like Women’s Day, Wigilia, your birthday, your anniversary, New Year’s … MOTHER’S DAY! It is set in stone and NEVER GOES AWAY!
Kind of like our kids, eh????!!!! (smile and wink)
Anyhow, this upcoming Mother’s Day I think that I am going to set expectations for my kids:
And number 10 makes up for 1-9.
As I expect it should.
So, you see, Mother’s Day in Poland is really no different than Mother’s Day anywhere else in the world. If you come from a dirt floor or a mansion that touches the sky, being MOM is full of a million and one expectations that always start with DISASTER…But that one moment (#10) will make up for all of the tornadoes that will come in and hijack your day.
In the end, however, you don’t mind. Because it’s a nice feeling. Being mom.
But NOT eating the grubby food from their fingers. Leave that behind on Dzien Matki. I am pretty sure that is not a nice feeling.
Not at all.
Happy Mother’s Day from Poland to YOU!