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Wednesday, February 22, 2012

these are the days to remember

I am feeling awfully sentimental and pensive today.

Today, Dylan and I had some time together. I had training at work and unexpectantly got off early 2 hours early. (Woo-Hoo!) Dylan was surprised to see me when he got home. Now that he is in the 7th grade, this is the first year of him riding the school bus home and being a latch key kid for a couple of hours each afternoon. He is the doing well with this new responsibility and freedom. This afternoon I saw him spring off the steps of the school bus and run across the street into the yard. He came inside, and I asked him about his day.

He heads directly for the kitchen and starts talking...he had chicken for lunch that gave him a stomach ache. He did well on a practice quiz in Social Studies. His geometry project is due this Friday, and he finished reading "The Pigman" in Language Arts.

I stood there realizing I remembered reading The Pigman, by Paul Zindel, when I was about 12. I remember it made me so sad, and I am pretty sure I cried at the end. I could not recall the characters' names, afterall that was about *cough *cough* 22 years ago. So, I asked Dylan to get the book and read the best part of it to me. He looked surprised, but he did what I asked.

He started reading to me in the kitchen and I began to work on a batch of No Bake cookies for Karsen's afterschool program tomorrow. As he read their names, I remembered the characters. He kept reading and I noticed how well-spoken he was. He read easily, even with the longer words that would cause an adult to hesitate and repeat over again. He read through the climax of the book and the story all came back to me.  I remembered why it was so sad, and as he was reading I could tell the story really touched his heart too. I could hear the sadness in his voice. Finally, he threw the book down and said "You finish reading it, I don't like this part!"

I was cutting up a cabbage, and I stopped to look up at him. I could tell he was getting choked up and upset. I loved that a book that touched my heart a long time ago, was now being read by my Dylan. I loved that he was reading it to me.

I asked, "Just one more page, Dyl? I can't read it because I am cooking".

He took a deep breath, rolled his eyes, and picked up the book. So tween-like. In between bites of cheetos he finished that chapter and went into the next. I was listening, but I was also thinking that I can't believe that my son is reading to me. It was just the other day that I was reading to him.
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His favorite book when he was 2 and 3 and 4 years old was "Are you My Mother?"  And he would ask "Pwease read it just one more time, Momma?"

 And so I did....I read it over and over again, everyday  and everynight for what seemed like forever. Looking back forever was way too fast and fleeting.

Today, I stood in the kitchen and listened to him read and I wondered, "Where is that book? Do we still have it? Wonder where I put it? I hope we still have it somewhere." Then before I know it, he is finished with the book. I look up and asked him if he loved it, and he replies, "Yeh, I did, Mom, but I am not going to cry like you did".

Then he looks at me and says, "Oh gawd, Mom, are you going to cry right now?!"

No, Dylan I am not! (But, I wanted to!) I just said, "No, silly, but I loved you reading to me".
He grabs another snack, says he is going to watch TV for a while, and as he walks out of the kitchen he asks the same question he asks me everynight, "What's for supper?"

I answer and then get back to cooking....and thinking. Hmm, where is that book? Where is my little boy that loved it? How is it that he is now 12 years old? When did that mustache appear? And acne? Where did the time go? All of a sudden, his voice is changing and I have to look twice to see which pants are his and which pants are his Dad's when I am doing laundry. Sigh.

I hope he knows as he gets older that I loved those days when he was chubby-cheeked and I was his favorite person in the world. I loved watching him swing, dancing to Dora the Explorer, and singing songs from his favorite TV shows. I feel like the time went by way too fast.  I feel like you should get a letter when you become a new Mom that goes something like "Warning!! This time will go by so fast. Too fast. Treasure it. They will be big and hormonal before you know it! Ye, be forewarned!! "

I hope he remembers the fun we had. The time when it was just the two of us. When I was a stay-at-home Mom. A young family of 3 for a minute. I remember crying the night before I went to the hospital to have Karsen. I was SO happy and excited, but a part of my heart was breaking because I knew after that day he would always have to share me.

I wanted to imprint on his heart that he was my first baby, and I would always love him in a special way. 10 years later, I still feel the same way. Even though he weighs more than me. Even though he has to share me and life is busy and we hardly have time with just the two of us. Even though he drives me bonkers at times, and even though I feel like a broken record with him these days.

Clean your room.
Did you wash your hands?
Go brush your teeth, please.
Did you flush?
Did you do your homework?
Did you show your work?
Have you done your chores?
Chew your food before you speak, please.
A broken record that loves him with all my heart.  I finished dinner and prayed....

"Please, remember these days, Dylan"
I prayed that he remembers when I read to him when he was 2 and beyond, and I prayed that I remember today when he was 12 read to me in the kitchen.  I decided to write about it here, so I knew I would always remember. Because looking back and looking forward I am well aware that time....sure does have a way of getting away from us.

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

hopeless romantic

I am a hopeless romantic. Always have been, likely always will be. I was the girl in middle girl that was always secretly "in love" with someone but never talked to that boy. I was the annoying girl in high school that was constantly doodling hearts and initials in the borders of my notebook paper during math class.

Love, love, love, all you need is love, right?

It is funny how your idea of love can change. I used to think that love was "calling me back when you said you would". Oh silly boys, silly times, silly me.

I have come a long way in the love department. In my defense, I never had a good example to follow, a true picture of what love really looked like. All I saw was separation, dysfunction, abuse....that eventually collided and broke into a million little pieces.

I took a chance, with no experience, little prior knowledge, and so many high expectations and jumped in head-first in love in 1997 and haven't looked back since.

Thank you, Chris, for helping me put together all the tiny little pieces. Turning something ugly into something beautiful. Into something good, something real, and something that continues to grow and thrive.

Thank you for being patient with me and for showing me what true love really means. Thank you for loving me. All of me. All the knicks, quirks and crannies that is ME, you know them all, and you love me anyway. I am so lucky.

Happy Valentine's Day!
Love, Heather

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Saturday, February 11, 2012

wordless weekend--snowMAN

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

we all fall down

Karsen fell last night, and then I fell off the wagon. Let me explain....

Last Saturday I woke up with a MAJOR migraine. I drank coffee, I took a shower, I took ibuprofen, I drank more coffee. By Sunday it was worse. By Sunday night, I was ready to die and had taken enough ibuprofen to kill a small child. I had tried all my normal tricks and it was worse. Monday, I went to work, and all day I felt like I had only one eye that was working and I wish I had a pirate patch on the other eye. Light, noise, and motion were all killing me. I made it through the day and then decided maybe I had been having TOO much coffee lately and that was actually causing my headache. I decided to give up coffee and see if that helped. *GASP! I love coffee, so these were strong words!

After a fairly exhausting week, we were sitting down last night to eat, and I hear pretty solid thump and then a whimper from the other room. Karsen had slipped and fallen on the hardwood floors. I came around the corner pretty quickly and saw she was still laying where she had fallen and she kept saying "OW, my ARM, OW my arm, Mommy OWWWWWW my ARM"


I didn't see it happen, I just heard it. It was like there is button in the Mommy brain that is just pushed and knows instantly when your child is hurt. I knew it when I heard a noise that I had never heard her make. The button was pushed, and I just knew SOMETHING was broken.

We iced her arm, gave her Motrin and waited an hour to see if she could move it without it hurting. It was basically limp, and she couldn't move it without using her other hand to lift it up. Off to Urgent Care we went.

One hour and two X-rays later, the doctor comes in and says, "Well, Karsen, you broke your humurus." She just started giggling..... LOL

On the way home, I pulled into my favorite coffee spot before I could stop myself, it was like I was on autopilot, and I ordered my favorite large coffee. So, technically I fell off the wagon.

She fell and then I (fail)ed. We all fall down. Oh well!

I love coffee and coffee loves me.

As we were pulling into the driveway Karsen said "I always wanted to know what it would feel like to break your arm". Well, now you know, sweet girl.

Thursday, February 2, 2012

little known facts about the author

Did you know.....

that my ears stick out?

that I used to have sideburns and bangs when I was a little girl? (seriously, Mom?)

that I think and talk in song lyrics and movie lines that run through my head?

that I used to have and LOVE the RECORD "Parents just don't understand" and play it over and over again? I still love Will Smith (his ears stick out too) Ha!

that I once danced in a school talent contest in the 6th grade? (and haven't danced like that since...)

that I am a middle child and possess all of the middle child tendencies....

that when my high school guidance counselor asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up...I replied, "A Mom" *big grin* (You should've seen her face...)

that I not only talk in song lyrics, but I also tie memories closely to songs. For example, yesterday I heard Milli Vanilli's "girl, I'm gonna miss you" song on the radio, and I remember sitting in my closet in the 7th grade listening to this song over and over again and crying because Allen Taylor didn't like me. LOL *1990

that I love pickles almost more than any other food in this world. Love them. I loved them pregnant, I loved them when I was little, I love them still. My nickname when I was younger was "Picklehead" Nice.

that I am not very close to my Mom and it makes me sad?

that I am super close to my big sister and I miss her?

that my sister in law sent me a pic of our old swingset that we passed along to them and their 3 kids....and I started crying when I saw it. We *just had that in our backyard. Our kids were *just that little. Swinging and laughing and being adorably 2 and 4 years old? How did time fly by that fast?

that I still battle "baby fever" from time to time? (obviously....)

that I have no desire to travel overseas....haven't you all seen the movie "Hostel"?!

that vocal tics drive me crazy? and ventriloquists scare me? but that I love scary movies?

and that I can be the most random person ever? I bet you already figured that out though. Ha!

Deciduous Heather