Farewell Summer You Gave Me Hope

In a time when most of us agree that our kids are overly plugged in I look around and I’m quietly and happily amazed.

Flurries of colored flip flops, sandwiches being pulled out of a cooler packed with melon and grapes while two young friends sit stringing bracelets on a picnic table.

Beach towels laid out on the grass with playing cards soggy from sunscreen. Balls scattered and being kicked by siblings back and forth until small teams have formed.
Kids smiling, talking and eating handfuls of pretzels.
Kids returning from their first ride down the “big” water slide winded but able to share a second by second report.

Sand shovels and pails being carried around by toddlers when a grain of sand does not exist for miles. Floppy hats and the ability to walk and carry stuff at the same time!

I hate to officially say farewell to summer but watching life through a small community pool gave me great hope in the the children that we call our own.
They still want to laugh, play, make a new friend and conquer the big pool! We just have to open the door, be available and watch the magic of childhood happen.

Sent from my iPhone

Father’s Day

Daddies have the ability to put a poopy diaper in the garbage and leave the house. 
Mommies couldn’t do that. Mommies take the poopy diaper and the garbage out to the trashcan.
Daddies can pack the diaper bag with trucks extra treats and hopefully a sippy cup.
Mommies will put an extra outfit, extra diapers, sun block and boo-boo cream in the diaper bag just in case.
Daddies think a successful breakfast is half a pancake, a cookie and some goldfish.
Mommies slice melon, chop apples and open the Cheerios.
Daddies think the zombie movie in the background is not being noticed.
Mommies turn the t.v off or scramble to find Thomas on the DVR.

We are different. Sometimes we don’t understand the “whys” of each other’s brain. How each other’s brain work or if they actually do.

I do know how much we love our son. Our pride, our joy.

I do know when I watch out the window at my son giggling as he kicks the ball around with his Daddy or drives race cars on the carpet there is no emotion so perfect, sweet and pure.

I do know when we hold the hands of our son as we walk on an “adventure” the love surges through our bodies. Our smiles are genuine and natural.
So for every sigh, head shake or eye roll I do there are 1,000 reasons why I”m blessed to have my son call my husband DaDa.

Happy Father’s Day Honey! I love you!

P.S- did the baby have enough water while you were out?

Four Days

Four days in the hospital with three herniated discs and excruciating physical pain.

Nothing compares physical pain to the emotional pain of not having my baby boy by my side.
Four days without the joy only I will ever know. Four days without him near.

Not being able to hold, tickle, sing, giggle, read and watch him take in this world so completely. That is what true pain is to a mother.

The moment I saw his face and he called my name the world became perfect place again. His smile made physical pain a distant bell, a bell this Mom no longer hears.

Surviving Halloween Childless

Growing up Halloween came and went. Not my favorite time of year.
Little did I know that years later Halloween would bring pain and sorrow. Every year the notion of being childless grew larger and more difficult to deal with.

Halloween made me deal with my own ghosts. The ghosts of the babies and toddlers crowding our leaf laden street. The ghosts of the children I wanted to love not just Halloween but every day. The wanting of a child that would need me and call me Mommy.

My house shouted perfect suburbia. We were decorated classically with lighting that swirled color. Leaves fluttered from the sky like a perfect scene.
I would answer the door with a full smile, dressed from work and a shiny manicure. Happy Halloween! I always picked the best candy, toys, pencils, light up bracelets. The kids received a handful of goodies. This was the house to visit. I must look like a great Mommy.

I was setting the scene to make all those Mommies jealous. Their worn sweatshirts, pulling wagons, holding little hands, picking up the stuffed tails of lions and horses. Holding new butterflies and dragons close to their bodies. How could they not want to be me? The entire scene was about me not wanting to be me. I wanted to be them. Messy, tired and loving every moment of life.

I wanted a bunny or a pirate everyday. My pirate is here. Healthy, happy and curious.
My heart still hurts for the lonely manicures that close the door and sob.

Becoming a Mother

Becoming a mother makes you the mother of all children. From now on each wounded, abandoned, frightened child is yours. You live in the suffering mothers of every race and creed and weep with them. You long to comfort all who are desolate.

Charlotte Gray