Last week I purchased your magazine for the first time in over 30 years. Let me offer my congratulations to your continued success. I am also in a kind of shock that I purchased a magazine for my teen that my mom purchased for me. It seems that as much as the world has changed since my teenage years the more it has stayed the same within teen stardom land.
It is because the world has indeed changed that I writing to you. I bought the current issue because my teen is currently obsessed with all things Sabrina Carpenter. This photo is how I won best mom of the day award. Continue reading →
I didn’t speak to my mother-in-law for 6 years, unless she looked directly at me. I didn’t know what to call her. I wasn’t sure how to get her attention. It took having Abby for me to say “Barbara” and even then I stuttered over it!
In high school, I would go a whole day without talking to anyone other than my closest friends. In Junior High, Mr. Leavitt got so angry at my mumbling that he screamed at me in my face. I fell under the desk. It was the 80’s teachers were allowed to scream at students and not get fired.
I was timid. I was shy. I had no self-confidence and rarely started a conversation. Continue reading →
One of the biggest fears I ever had to face, I didn’t know I possessed. When you have a child, you only imagine them healthy. You never imagine seeing them in the hospital, or working so hard to just say the word mom. You might, in the back of your mind, worry. You do not understand how true fear tastes.
Although the pain fades, it never goes away. I will never forget the fear I had, the moment I realized something was different with Bridget. Having to take her to the ER on her fourth day of life and bargaining for her life. I just wanted her to live.
To say February, March and April have been incredible would be like saying …. okay there is not one analogy I could make here that even comes close to the feeling I have in this moment. This is probably close to the expression I am wearing on a full-time basis.
But….(because there is always a but) I am conflicted with feelings of jumping up and down with joy with simultaneous worry that I am bragging or being obnoxious. Add in feelings of oh not worthy, crap when is that other shoe not only going to drop but kick me in the head. I’m a bundle of emotions. Continue reading →
I hate tax season. When I start compiling all the documents, look at our W2 forms and realize where all our money has gone. A good amount to charity, not a great amount, but a nice amount. Money we worked hard for and in David’s case a lot of overtime. Money we are saving for retirement seems to dwindle each year. Vacations become more camping trips and economical. Holidays and birthdays become less extravagant and more meaningful.
CNNreports that the “average cost” of raising ONE child from birth to age 18 is a staggering $245,000. That is a quarter of a million dollars. This is the “average”, according to the report those in the Northeast can expect to spend an estimated $455,000. A half-million dollars and costs are rising. And that doesn’t include what your family may pay for auto insurance, driver’s ed, tutors or college costs (or the cost of your 25 year-old that continues to live with you).
At the end of each summer, I always feel YES! THEY ARE GOING BACK TO SCHOOL! There is usually a happy dance that quickly follows. Sometimes there is singing. This summer for some very weird reason is different. This summer was freaking fantastic.
Sure there were some hiccups.There was the scare that Boo would have to have a second spinal surgery. There were meltdowns when she was on break from her program. This year there were more joys. We had company just about every weekend. Seriously the sheets in my guest bedroom have never been washed so often. When we were not company we were in Vermont. Twice. Once for a family reunion and once for the best ever family vacation where we were a normal family for a brief time.
I had a visit from my best friends from Junior High School and from High School. They got to meet. It was epic. As in spending the night until 2am drinking wine and connecting. And forgetting we are all over 40 and had to get up with our children in the morning. Early the next morning. I knew they would get along. I do not know how I go so long in between visits from both of them. We all agreed we have to be better about reaching out to one another. That although we know we are there for one another, we have to remember to reach out and be needed.
I did not embarrass myself in any of the obstacle races I ran. Although I did end up in the ER for stitches after a dish-washing mishap. Boo rocked her MRI. She rocked it so well that we learned her spinal cord is perfect and she will not need to have a repeat surgery. I did the ALS Challenge my way, explaining why I felt it was so important that the Challenge be more than just dumping ice on your head. My friend explained to me that it was supposed to be both: donate AND dump. When we looked back over our friends “challenges” though we realized how often the AND was left out. So I stand by my Challenge. Donate and dump ice. Please. Now. Abby had not one but three sleep overs. We all survived. My trick? Only one child can come over. That has been vetted with play dates to make sure they are not monsters that will destroy my house. Boo’s summer program was the entire month of July and some of August. A blessing for all of us. I am deeply grateful for the teachers and specialists who gave up their summers so my girl will continue to thrive. As I look over this summer I believe it is the first summer since I became a mom that I was present. That I didn’t use work to escape but to pay the bills. I was in the moment. Whether working with Boo to understand she could not have one more muffin or discussing if we would get a bunny. In a moment of weakness (or motherhood bliss) I said maybe. But it’s better than saying maybe you can get a pony. At the end of each summer I usually rejoice. This year I mourn the end of summer. I want to be back there, in Vermont with my family. I want to be back there around the fire pit with friends. I want to be there on the beach watching Boo dance. I want that moment that she was whole. I want to wake up with no agenda other than to bask in the sun. At the end of each summer I always feel exhausted. This summer I feel fulfilled. It’s a good feeling and one I will remember to recapture.
How would you finish the sentence: At the end of each summer I always feel….
When you think about your body, I bet you see the flaws. Okay I see the flaws (of my body, not yours). I avoid the mirror after a shower better than a deer avoids hunting season. I would rather talk or write about anything other than my body.
So with the first Finish that Sentence in over a month I almost skipped. I truly could not think of one amazing thing my body has done. Let alone the most amazing thing my body has done. I know, you are thinking: CHILD BIRTH. But well, I didn’t do that too well. Pregnancy, sure. That was easy. Heck it wasn’t until month 7 with Abby that I even thought of maternity clothes (don’t hate me). Yet, I don’t really think that is the most amazing thing my body has done. Every mother, after all, has done it. So to be amazing, it has to be unique. Right? I was stumped. Truly stumped by this week’s prompt. What is the most amazing thing my body has done? Crickets. How’s that for self-confidence? Then I realized it was simple, really. The most amazing thing my body has done is provide whatever Boo needs. I have held Boo down (physically) during a truly invasive, painful procedure yet she willingly runs into my arms. I have comforted Boo during moments of epic meltdowns and moments of a Hallmark-commercial sweetness. This body is the one Boo clings to more than any other. This body, my body, is the one most likely to soothe, to make secure, to always be there when needed. At 3 in the morning or at 3 in the afternoon. It amazes me, with every test I have held her down through, she prefers my body over all others. My cheek is the one that rests against hers for a kiss. My ear lobe is the one she rubs for sensory comfort. My mouth the one that advocates for her. My shoulder is where she rests her head when tired, when sad, when happy and when content. My lap is the most comfortable seat in any restaurant.
My hips are the one she rests her head against as I do dishes, just wanting to be close to my side. My legs are the ones carry her when she wants to walk but is too tired. My hand is the one that held as she slides down the ‘big’ slide. My arms are the ones that picks her up when she falls and lets her go when she flies.
The most amazing thing my body has done is something not for me, but for my beautiful Boo.