Not Ready for School

I have a secret...I am really NOT ready for school to start. 

Not ready to send Munchkin on to first grade, not ready for homework.
Not ready to be making lunches everyday.
Not ready to meet a new teacher-for either of us!
Not ready to share my Munchkin again.

This summer has been pretty awesome.  Tons of time with family and at the pool and beach, but also tons of time just together.  Reading, exploring, playing.  We have had squirt gun fights, water balloon fights, endless games of tag. 

We have laughed A LOT!  He has gotten to enjoy a ton of camps and then come home and excitedly shared his day with me.  It has been magical. 

I am not ready for it to end at ALL!  I enjoy having him home with me and I enjoy our time. 

But in all honesty, what I am really not ready for is to explain us again.  Countless times.  I am not ready for a whole new set of people to have to ask where Robert is, then give me that pity look when I say he is dead.  I honestly don't know why the pity look bothers me. It is far better for a stranger to show emotion than to be indifferent.  I am not ready for a new teacher to ask Munchkin to draw a picture of his family and then call me up when it looks "weird".   Yes it is normal for us to have all his aunts and uncles, Nana and Papa in the picture....and yes the floating head in the clouds that he labels Daddy---well he has done that since he was 2.   His understanding of Heaven is that it is in the clouds-so there Daddy is drawn.  And I am not ready for the seasoned teacher to tell me that she has only ever had a handful of kids who have lost a parent to death.  Ever.  In her whole career. 

I am NOT READY for these conversations.  

But at the end of the day, I am the grown-up.  The only one in our house and since I sincerely want Munchkin to enjoy school, I will suck it up.  I will look to all of the new things he gets to do this year and I will get excited with him.  We will go shopping for school supplies and we will gather up all of the other things around the house.  We will do this with a smile on my face because I know the best thing I can do for him is show him excitement about school. 

I will pray every day for him as I send him off and I will trust God that things will be exactly as they are supposed to be because that is what I do. 

These Days

The other night, we were playing outside.  Munchkin was running around the yard.  I was admiring the grass that I had cut a few days ago.  The air was cool and the sun was setting.   Two of our friends were walking by and stopped to chat.

I am feeling so blessed that we live in such an awesome neighborhood, where everyone knows each other and people play together in the evenings.  Where friends stop to talk and literally are just a phone call away.  Where kids play outside and ride bikes and chase lighting bugs and whine to stay up just a little later.

I am grateful that for the moment we are living an idyllic life.  One that I had hoped and wished and planned for.  Evenings in the yard, coffee on the patio in the morning.  Looking at the bunnies hop through the yard and hoping that the fox isn't hot on their tails.  I am in awe of all of the wonderful things that have happened in our life.  I never dreamed that we would ever have a house again.  Yet, here we are!

Six years ago I was hoping to share these days with Robert and our child someday. Five years ago, I couldn't see past the brokenness to imagine these days would ever happen or feel good without Robert here.   Today, even though Robert isn't here, I have a sense of contentment with the life that we have.  It doesn't make it ok that Robert is dead, but I can tell you on most days, I have found the fortitude to be grateful for what is in front of me today.  I am grateful because I know how quickly and permanently things change.  I give thanks constantly for our blessings and I pray every day to continue to be blessed. While I certainly think I have had my share of tragedy, this bliss is not guaranteed to continue and I know that.  I have worked very hard to stay in the present moment and to practice gratitude and it seems to be working.  It seems to be getting better for us. 

We are very, very blessed these days.  

What a world...

The other evening, I took Munchkin to see Despicable Me 2.  We love going to the movies together even if I do have a small heart attack every time I go to pay!!!

He is old enough now where I let him pick our seats, and he usually picks the top row center.  Not a bad seat. 

As the previews played, there was a new preview, one that wasn't there ten days ago when we saw Monsters University. 

I don't remember the exact wording, but it had to do with locating your exits and how to leave in an emergency.   WOW.  My heart stopped.  I knew where it came from.  All of us grownups know about the shooting at the movie theater in Colorado.  The shooting at the Sandy Hook.  We know about the random terrible crap and evil that permeates our world today.   I am not quite sure WHY I was so shocked.   This is not news and really a reminder to look for your emergency exits is a good idea-but for some odd reason it made me feel sick.  

Perhaps it was because I know that all too soon, it won't be cool to go to the movies with your mom, he will want to go with his friends. That means, that I will have to let go of his hand and trust him to make good choices long before I am ready to do so.  I am quite comforted by the illusion that I can protect him, even if I know deep down that it is ONLY and illusion.

Perhaps it is because I know that life is precarious and precious and changes in a flash.  While sometimes those changes are positive, they are not always so.  Sometimes those changes are catastrophic and push us into unchartered territory where we can no longer keep our head above water with our some serious support.  I. KNOW. THIS.  I should not be shocked that other people with cool heads have decided that it is a good idea to get people to look at exit signs.  It is a good idea.

So I took a deep breath and reminded myself that bad things don't always happen, that there are good things in the world and maybe just maybe I can help my son hold onto the solace of the good things.  I can't erase the tragedy that we have endured, but I can bolster us with the good around us.   I can demonstrate to him that we laugh, we play, we act silly, we love and we enjoy life.  We do all of that IN SPITE of the evil and tragedy that abounds in this world because that is how I survive.  

Half

We had defined sides of the bed for sleeping.  I was always on the left side of the bed, he was always on the right.  It just was. 

It has been over five years since the day he died, however I still find myself on the left side of the bed.  I now have a smaller bed that has been in three different places in three different bedrooms and the result is still the same...I stay perched on my side, and his stays empty. 

Even though I know...it isn't HIS side, never was, he never slept in this bed, he never slept on these sheets, he never used these pillows or blankets.  Heck--he has never even stepped foot into my house.  I know this.   My brain knows it, I am pretty sure that my heart knows it.

At night, there is an icy chill that emanates from his side of MY bed.  It creeps over to me and just reminds me that I am alone.  That I don't have anyone to share my bed.  That Robert is gone, and not just gone, but he. is. dead.  He is never coming back and I will NEVER again spend a night nestled safe in his arms with my head on his chest.  Really this feeling of icy loneliness is getting very old. 

I have done everything that I can think to do.  I decorated my bedroom.  I selected a beach theme and enlisted my mom who is awesome at decorating to help me pull it together.  I have a beautiful painting, new sheets and comforter.  A really cool lamp and other accessories.  I selected my bedroom so that the light comes in and spills over the bed in the morning.  It is bright and warm and cozy.  But it hasn't helped.    The ice still fills the room in the dead of night. 

So I take a deep breath and I suck it up and I lay down and I go to sleep.   In the morning I awake and it is the same thing over again.   I am alone and there is no one in my bed besides me....well unless Munchkin is sick and has wandered into mommy's bed in the middle of the night, then I am usually awakened at a pre-dawn hour by a squirmy octopus in my bed.

Don't you know, kids grow extra limbs and flail them endlessly when they are in your bed, in their own beds--they sleep perfectly still and awake in the same position that you kissed them goodnight. 
So I kiss Munchkin good morning and look around and I say a prayer of thanks for all of the things that I do have and I hope that one day, this particular feeling fades to a distant memory. 

Chores and Connections

Quite possibly one of the most frustrating things about being an only parent is the fact that there isn't any one to help with anything. When we were married, we had a clear division of chores, inside was mine, outside was his. I didn't mess with his garage and he didn't mess with my craft room. It worked for us. Saturday mornings were chore days, he would cut grass and putz around outside. I would clean inside and putz in the kitchen or craft room. Around lunch time we would be done and go on with our day.

Now, I have no one to divide and conquer with, consequently getting ready for a party at my house is a HUGE undertaking.

This past week, I mowed my lawn for the first time. I have a tractor that came with my house, but it needed a new battery, so I also have Robert's lawnmower. It took me two and a half hours but I did it. As I was using his lawnmower, it hit me, that this may possibly be the only useful thing of this that I kept to use at my house. As my sweat poured down my arms and onto the handle, I had the realization that my sweat was mixing with his once again. It was a peaceful feeling. I am not sure that I have words to really describe what it felt like, other than to say that for a brief moment I felt connected to him once again. Physically connected.

For the first time that I can remember, that connection was not quickly replaced with an empty longing. And I was proud of myself. I conquered the grass...it wasn't perfect and it was messy, but I did it.

Late Night TV

Sometimes I wonder if I am the only widowed person, or simply the only person that finds those lawyer ads that are on late night offensive. 

The ones that tell you that kids without dads are destined to be horrible failures addicted to drugs and in jail.  Right, because we don't have enough to worry about.

These ads bring forth so many emotions for me.  Anger that men would willingly choose to walk away from their children.   Solace in the fact that some of them should walk away because they are not good for their children in so many ways! 

I know in my heart that Robert was a great father.  He was amazing and literally waited his entire life to be a father.  

He is not the person these ads refer to.  He would never have left us of our own choice.  He would be here still if he could.  

I know that I do the best I can in raising munchkin and I have a fantastic support system around us. 

Even though it feels as if the ads are yelling at me singling me out, I need to shut off the tv, tune out the negativity and rest in the solace that we are just fine! 

Turning 6

Munchkin turned six last week. I can't believe that time has flown by so quickly, He is an amazing young man and I love being his mommy. Really I do, I wouldn't trade it for anything...I will take all of it, the messiness, illness, challenges...I soak it in. I soak up his sassy mouth and his (my) sarcastic sense of humor. At times when I want to scream, I take a breath and remember everything is a phase....including his vocabulary.

Sometimes though, I can't help remembering the fact that Robert was cheated out of celebrating any of Munchkin's birthdays with us, It makes me ill to remember the fact that Robert never got the opportunity to select one birthday theme, present, streamer or birthday hug. It breaks my heart to know that Munchkin won't have memories of his daddy on his birthday.

This year he wanted a basketball hoop-perfect daddy son activity right???? I know we are lucky and I thank God everyday. A few weeks ago, I alerted my sister and her husband that this was the birthday wish. They are expensive so I asked grandparents to kick in cash and Heather and Tom are covering the vast bulk of the cost and Tom will install it and he will play with him. I know that there are other families who are not nearly as lucky as we are to have people to step up...and my family has stepped up HUGE for us. I really am grateful, really I am. I just wish that they didn't have to.

missing summer vacation....

Here we are 10 weeks before the start of summer vacation, and I struggle yet again to balance everything.   Daycare offers a program, very expensive and tons of video game time.  Not what I really want him doing for the summer. 

Other programs around town are less expensive, but don't necessarily have anyone on staff that knows what to do for an astham attack.  Can't even consider those.  Nope...his attacks are far too frequent. 

So I think back, what did we do as kids?  HMMM....well we spent it with mom at the beach while dad worked.  We went to the library with our grandfather while the younger kiddos napped.  We went to the beach everyday and ran around.   I don't believe we even had a TV at the lake house and it didn't matter.  We played wiffle ball, rollerskated, played bubbles, caught lightning bugs and hunted for snipes.  (they are a little brown bird that tastes like chicken, no really, go look it up!)

We did everything Robert and I imagined our child would get to do.  And would have done if he was still here...he was a teacher and even with everything he had to do, he still had a solid 6 weeks off and he would have had great adventures with Munchkin in those six weeks.   I still would have had to work, but munchkin would not have had to be in a day care or camp program. 

Man does that hurt me.   It hurts me to realize that even though I miss Robert everyday-that now Munchkin is at the age where he is missing out on things because Robert is dead.  It is to the point where I don't think that I am enough.  I do the best I can.  We play, we run we read, we have family time just the two of us and we enjoy each other.   We do crazy things like drive around in the snow with hot cocoa and look at Christmas lights, we go to the beach A LOT! (probably more than we should....it isn't our house after all...) But there are things that I cannot replicate on my own.  I can't be both at work and providing for us and home with him for the summer.  I couldn't take a vacation with him on spring break and be able to afford to pay what I need to for the summer.  

I have to be ok with the simple fact that I am doing the best that I can with what I have to do it with. 

Baseball

The other day, I had the privelege of volunteering in Munchkin's classroom.  It is a lot of fun for both of us.  The result is that I get a day off of work, and we have more then 15 minutes to get in the door and get dinner on the table. 

We decided to play in our yard.  It was glorious.  Munchkin started by riding his bike and scooter, while I busied myself with pulling out his outdoor sports toys and putting them into an easy to access corner of the garage. 

I pulled out his bat and ball and he came running!  I put out the tee and he started hitting.  Graduated quickly to me pitching to him.

It hit me, we were playing baseball in our own backyard.  Spending time together just playing.  Baseball is my all time favorite sport to play.   I pitched, he hit, I caught the ball.   I worked with him just  a little bit on his stance and with a few minor adjustments of his feet, he was hitting like a champ!

All was fun and games, until I explained to him that every time I caught the ball on a fly, that he was actually "out" instead of hitting a home run.  I know, I know, silly mommy, actually trying to explain to the boy the way the world really works. 

He told me-"Mommy, just don't catch it!" to which I replied, "well, hit it harder and away from me!"  Essentially, trying to teach him that if you want to get better at somehting, you need to do better.  While showing up is important, it isn't everything!  We need to actually put forth effort to excel!

You know, those same lessons that my father taught me while playing baseball and catch in our yard!

Battle scars

Sometimes the biggest battle scars cannot been seen from the outside. Really, if you were to encounter someone without visible scars, would you know by looking at them, that their life had been ripped apart? That they carry wounds of the heart and soul? Wounds that cut to the very core of their being? That they had survived horror that usually is found only in nightmare? Hmm...nope...

But, battle scars are exactly what they are. Several months ago, I was struggling, a lot, having flashbacks of the accident, nightmare again. When I spoke to a very dear friend of mine (who also happens to be widowed and a licensed therapist) he had some really great thoughts.

He said that sometimes, you have to acknowledge the scars that no one else can see. It can help to "touch" and explore them and then acknowledge to yourself that yes, that was really bad, and damn, that scar still hurts. Most importantly that it is ok to do this, especially when these scars and wounds are fighting for attention in our minds.

At the time, it didn't make a whole lot of sense to me, I mean really...they are not scars, I walked away from the accident without a physical scratch. Perhaps it has taken me almost five years to admit that I have scars, that I do indeed suffer from battle wounds. Perhaps now, that I have acknowledged the wounds, and really taken some time to explore them, perhaps, now they can heal?

I pray often for strength and for endurance, I don't know at I have ever asked God to heal my heart. I have often relied on the scriptures that promise that God will care for the widows and fatherless children. I have given many of my struggles to Him. At times I feel that there is a purpose in this, perhaps I am meant to share those scars so that others can see that it is possible to persevere? In all honesty that is why I started writing here, In 2008 I was blessed to engage with some widows who were farther along than me...I could see that they were OK-they were surviving and some of them were thriving. Perhaps, by showing my battle scars some of you can see it is possible to be OK?

in the quiet

Sometimes it is just too quiet.  The silence around me makes the thoughts in my heart deafening.  Usually resulting in tears.  Not the silent dripping down my cheeks tears-but the messy sobbing pain of a broken heart. 

Now, thankfully, these episodes are not daily anymore, not weekly or even any predictable regularity.  I am grateful for that. 

I don't think that the pain has lessened from losing Robert.  I think that I have just become used to the void.  Used to the scars, the empty feeling.  I have chosen not to give my brokenness power over the rest of my life.   I am glad that I have made that choice.  That for the most part I can be in the present moment and enjoying time with Munchkin or completing tasks at hand.  

There are times however, where a memory will reach up and slap me.  At those times, I cannot help but to feel my broken heart.  To feel the pain of losing him.  It is crushing, it is earth shattering and it is horribly unfair.  Those are the times that generally result in the sobbing previously mentioned. 

I have a favorite quote: "Take PRIDE in how far you have come, and FAITH in how far you can go"

I try and force myself to take a step back and realize that even though at that moment, I feel horrible-that I really have come very far.  I am not crying 24/7.  I am no longer paralyzed by memories-and at times I can even enjoy sweet memories.  Nightmares and flashbacks of the accident are no longer constant...and dare I say have faded to few and far between.  So yes, I have come very far in the past few years, so I just have to remember that as bad as it feels at that moment, that it will get better...it has gotten better over time and that it will be OK!

It takes a village...

A very long lifetime ago there was a book written by Hillary Clinton called "it takes a village".  Here is a confession...I didn't read it then, I still haven't read it now.  But let me tell ya, it takes a village!

In the past week:
--My mom and brother hid valentines at my house for my son to give to me
--my other brother babysat for a few hours so I could go out with some girlfirends
--My Brother in law picked munchkin up from school, took him to TaeKwonDo, fed him and put him to bed so that I could attend a business dinner
--My brother came over before 6 am, got munchkin up, fed him breakfast, made sure he actually grabbed all of his crap AKA homework and carted him off to school on time, so that I could give a presentation at work early in the morning.
--my mom picked up some groceries and then offered to cook them with hers if I could bring by some ziplock bags, I would have frozen meals in my freezer to pull out and serve (Seriously, I have NO CLUE what I am going to do when she retires and moves away!)
-my brother was the second set of hands to reprogram the garage door opener after he changed the battery...seriously, I can't move fast enough to get from the keypad to the door!
-My best friend took the time to give me no less than 3 pep talks on the fact that everything will be just fine
-mom was on chat with me at 10pm at night--way past her bedtime helping me debate to call the pediatrician then or wait until 8 am when they opened (you know the usual spousal support!)

So yes, it takes a village, while all of these things seem insignificant to some people, the sum total of all of the love and support that we recieve, well it is simply amazing. 

I am thankful that I belong to such an amazing family!

Knowledge

Munchkin is five. In my mind, that means his world should be consumed by Legos, dirt, laughter and adventure. My wish has always been for him to be a happy healthy child. In fact, that is my prayer to God every day.

In reality, he understands things that he should not have to. Things like death, and heaven and angels. He understands these things so well, that when a teacher in preschool told him that he was an angel-he burst into tears! He told her he didn't want to be an angel because he didn't want to be dead.

The fact that he can make these connections, well it just plain astounds me, In the next breath, it makes me sad. I cannot control the world around us, and I cannot protect him from knowledge that he shouldn't have at his age, I am fairly certain that none of his peers know what death is, the may have a fuzzy concept of heaven from church but they positively have not lost a parent.

As I navigate our reality and explain things to him on his level...it breaks my heart that we even have to have these discussions. I answer his questions when he asks, openly and honestly while at the same time, asking God to comfort both of us.

Because really, how do you help your child understand the inexplicable challenges that the world has thrown at us, when you as an adult can barely grasp them?

What I want my son to know

Social media has a proliferation of "things to teach your son" post lately. Some of them have been good...some have been laughable. Many of the things, like teaching him to cook and clean and survive on his own, well honestly they go without saying.

I have spent many nights praying that I am enough, that I teach him enough. I worry and pray that raising him by myself won't result in horrific social consequences. I try very hard not to watch late night television that shows all of the ads for the ambulance chasers that convince the world that children without a father are destined to go to jail...

But I focus on what I want him to know.

That he is loved, more than he can ever imagine and won't know until he has a child of his own.

I want him to know that marriage is beautiful, and love is worth it. That his father loved me so much and so well.

That being a man isn't all about being crass, that he really should be a gentleman.

That having fun is great, but it should never be done at the expense of someone else.

That working hard is important and expected, in our family we do the best we can at all times.

I hope that in my singleness, I can still show him these things and more. That in spite of the fact that Robert is dead...these are still things he needs to learn and that I need to teach him.

I pray that I am enough.

Needed Moments

This weekend I had the opportunity to spend some time with a girlfriend and a new friend. We laughed and chatted and talked about our kids and families. Somehow, this person that I have known for years, did not know that I was widowed. She did not know of the horror that I have lived through. Both of these women were awed. I shared my story, what happened, how I made some choices and how I got here.

One of them told me that she had so much respect for me. That she always thought that I was strong and graceful, but now she really knew it. She said there was just something so kind about my demeanor that she had always been drawn to. I was floored by the compliment!

The other woman, told me, that she thought that I had been destined to do this. That I needed to "own" my story and use it to help other people. That she truly believed that we all have gifts and things to share and that our lives are entwined for a reason. She spoke of some things in her life and shared that God had a plan for me. I was humbled by this interaction.

Now, I have believed that since the accident. There had to be a lesson for me hidden in this tragedy. I know that there was a reason for me to survive, a reason for this whole experience, I found that by holding onto the faith that God has a plan, I can find peace and comfort in that.

As we were talking, one of the women shared a song with me. "Don't Worry Child" by Swedish House Mafia. Now, some of the lyrics are:
Don't worry child, heavens got a plan for you,

I found the song to be mesmerizing. It really spoke to me, to my soul. Here I am, far from home, sitting with two women who are sharing with me exactly what God needed me to know in my soul.

This was such a nice afternoon and an affirmation of the fact that there is a greater plan. God gives us people and experiences that we need to show us we are on the right path. Sometimes, we are just given just what we need to hear!

Playing Games

Munchkin is at the age where games are totally his thing.  I cannot tell you the number of hours he and I have spent playing board games and I am very glad that we have moved on to things besides CandyLand!  Recently it has been yahtzee and scrabble as the favorites as well as an I SPY board game that Santa brought him.   He has really gotten the concept not only of taking turns but following the actual rules--which actually makes playing fun!

One Sunday afternoon, two of my brothers came over to visit and pick up a few things.  Munchkin managed to convince them that they needed to play I SPY with us.  Now keep in mind, Munchkin has had the game for the better part of the month and I am positive has pretty much memorized it! The four of us sat down around my dining room table and proceeded to play.  Munckin was quite thrilled that not only could he beat his mommy, but two of his uncles as well! He had it all figured out, even to the point of helping the rest of us slowpokes find our items on the cards.  A few times, the rest of us didn't even get our cards drawn before he was ringing the bell! We had fun and laughter and lemonade...really do you need much more?

This went on literally for the better part of two hours.  It reminded me of how much fun we used to have as kids playing board games.  Seriously, there were five kids growing up and board games were awesome for all of us!  I am grateful that my brothers still enjoy games and are willing to indulge my son in his love of them as well.   I am grateful that I made the decision to move back to where my family is--there is so much that we get to be a part of that we would otherwise miss if we were across the country!

Love of Cooking...

Since I have been in our new house, I have realized how much I have missed and enjoyed cooking.  Literally, this weekend I have made: roast turkey, turkey soup, pumpkin bread, peanut butter cookies and I will probably make some muffins to freeze for breakfasts still tonight. 

While I am excited that I have an awesome kitchen to whip up yummy and fun stuff, it makes me remember the delineation of duties in our marriage.   He stayed out of my kitchen, and I stayed out of his garage.  Not that either of us were not capable of being in the spaces, just that they were clearly ours respectively.  There was many occasion that I worked late and came home to a great dinner and clean kitchen...he was multitalented like that.

There were things in our marriage that were "not my job" in a playful way.  I never had to worry about the condition of the cars, the maintenance of them, household repairs, changing things for seasons (pulling in hoses, putting away yard stuff)  He never had to worry about baking fresh bread, cleaning the bathrooms, or dusting the baseboards.  I took pride in our house and so did he.  We were a team and together we had everything covered. 

I realized just how much I have avoided doing things like cooking while we lived in an apartment.  I honestly had no space to do it.  TRUST ME! Not only did I not have space, I am not sure that I was really ready for the flood of reminders that it has brought.

I love to cook, I love to bake.  I like to create things and make stuff.  I enjoy teaching munchkin how to measure and cook and I am hoping that when he is old enough to be married he will know his way around enough to be able to cook and clean up a meal and his wife will be grateful.  But I also want munchkin to be able to do the "other stuff" around a house, simple repairs, cleaning gutters, figuring things out.  You know the things that Robert would be doing and teaching him if he were here.   For now, I will have to have faith that my brothers will be able to teach him the "other things" he needs to know.  

Now I know that I have proven to myself that I can handle things and in the grand big picture I am sure that I do just fine...however, sometimes it is just the little things that settle that ache right back into your heart. 

Balancing Act

Let me start this by saying first off that I know that all parents face some of these issues, so please don't think that I don't know that two parent households (especially those with multiple kids!) face a lot of what I talk about below on a daily basis.  However, this knowledge that I am not alone, doesn't really make me feel any less alone.  I hope that makes sense to you.

Munchkin is asthmatic, in the grand scheme of childhood diseases, not so bad, I get that, and I am grateful. However, when his lungs get inflamed, Murphy's law applies. Now I am Irish, so I should be used to Mr. Murphy by now, but really, I wish he would go take a vacation and never bother our family again!

Since mid-December Munchkin has had: Strep Throat, Influenza A, Pneumona, we had roughly 7 days of "better" (meaning breathing treatments were only every 6 to 8 hours instead of every 3 hours!) then we had another strain of Influenza, 2 days of "better" and now viral pneumonia and RSV (for those not acquainted with respiratory stuff, the last two pretty much go together and are bad for a normal kid, for an asthmatic kid--usually results in a multi day hospital stay, at least with us!)

So since December I have lost track of the number of times we have seen or called our pediatrician.  Let me tell you, he is awesome and very well acquainted with us! He is patient and empathetic to Munchkin-from experience, not all pediatricians are so I count that as a huge blessing!

Here is the kicker, when we got admitted to the hospital early in the week, I was genuinely caught off guard.  I did not bring supplies to entertain him, changes of clothes for either of us, or even my laptop to do some work.  I really thought that when the nurse called back and said that doctor wanted to listen to him, that he would take a listen to his lungs, maybe adjust one of his meds and send us home.

When the doctor said that he needed to be admitted, I just went with it, I didn't have Robert here to tell me it would be OK.  I needed to swallow my feelings and reassure munchkin that it would be ok, that we would put some "superhero strength medicine in his arm and he would get better quick".  Mind you he is 5, needles are scary for him, IV's are no fun, and he was running a high fever and not able to breathe.  Thankfully, I did think to grab my "doctor office" bag, so I had a "blankie" for munchkin, a few books to read to him, a toy car and a pad of paper to entertain him.  That is it.  No games, no movies, no legos, not anything more to occupy him for more than about ten minutes at a time....and certainly not enough to entertain him for four long days. 


But really here is the thing, when you have a two parent household, you have someone on your side. You are a team, you can take turns comforting you child when they come to give him a treatment or coax him to cooperate when they want to listen to his lungs or any thing else that needs doing. In theory you have two voices to advocate for your child, and two people to look at idiots who suggest that you give a five year old a COUGH DROP to stop his wheezing---right, cause cough drops eliminate inflammation in the lungs and are not a choking hazard when a kid is coughing and wheezing so badly he cannot even speak....and let me tell you, Robert had a much better "ARE YOU AN IDIOT??" look than I do.   Maybe it is because he was a teacher and actually calling middle school and high school students an idiot is generally frowned upon, therefore he had more practice??  I don't know, I tend to revert to sarcasm.

We were very blessed with some phenomenal pediatric nurses that engaged him and made this whole thing as comfortable as possible for him.  He literally only threw one fit.  In the middle of the night, one of the nurses came in to do his vitals and he was only half awake and he fought her off like a NINJA!  Literally, she had gently grasped his wrist to take his blood pressure and was met with instinctive kicking and blocking and screaming that he has learned in TaeKwonDo to be able to get away from adults.   I'll go with being thankful that he has that instinctive reaction and feel better that he can defend himself, I did feel bad for the nurse who got kicked and made sure I was the one who called his name from there on out when he was sleeping so that he didn't have the same reaction.   I will file that story for a later date when I am sure it will be hilarious. 

The entire time we were there, I did not leave his hospital room.  Robert was not there to tell me to go and find some coffee--thankfully, we have added a few people to the "I really mean it when I ask you what I can bring you" category of friendship.  I am eternally grateful that as my support system modulates, it appears to be expanding for the crisis mode.  I was blessed with friends who supplied me with coffee, munchkin with coloring books and other activities to pass the time.  Family who came to visit us.  I know I am truly lucky to have people who are willing to help me.

The way that the local hospital handles kids is that your pediatrician is the primary doctor but then they have pediatricians on the floor that round on the kids hourly if needed, but at least twice a day.  We stayed on hourly to every two hours up until he turned the corner on the last day.  But they are not familiar with us, and they are not familiar with Munchkin.  Every time a new one came in "Mom, you look exhausted, can Dad come and let you have a break?" Thankfully, munchkin has my tact and wit---"Doctor, Daddy can't come back from Heaven!"  Which resulted in that shock followed by pity face, followed by "I'm so sorry, what happened?" Followed by me holding back tears "He died in a car accident, how is munchkin doing?"  Becuase really, we are here to get munchkin better, not to talk about my sad pathetic circumstances, ok? Having your child lying in a big hospital bed, feeling so crummy that they don't even move, joke or laugh, really that is torture enough for a parent, let's not relive other horrors, and there is no need to remind me that I am exhausted and alone, trust me I don't forget that-EVER!

Now the irony here, is that from talking to my other friends who have had kids in the hospital, usually one stays there and the other works or takes care of the other kids, so really having just mom there should not have been all that unusual.  

Now here is the other thing.  I am our sole income and sole support.  That means that FMLA (unpaid) isn't really an option.  So I have to maintain a work presence while still devoting my energy to Munchkin who needs his mommy, thankfully, I can do work at any time of the day, so that gets done between midnight and 3 am.   You know, once munchkin has calmed down enough from the steroids to pass out and get some sleep....instead of sleeping when he does, I have to boot up my laptop and dig in.  At least to make sure that the bare necessities are covered and hope that I'm not so sleep deprived that I make a mistake that comes back to bite me at a later date. 

So here I am, five days later.  We are home and I am extremely grateful.  My pipes froze, and my brothers dealt with them, installed a heater and thermostat in my crawl space so we should not have to deal with that again (THANKFULLY).  My mom cooked some nutritious food for us and went shopping and filled my fridge, I have three friends that have offered to run and do anything that needs doing, my brother shoveled my sidewalk and driveway and I have most of our laundry done.   But here is the thing.  We are still on breathing treatments every three hours around the clock.   So there really isn't much time for either of us to get much sleep...although he did pass out last night and slept for 7 hours and I just put the mask over his face.   But I am home alone with him, no one to give me a hug, tell me munchkin will be ok, tell me to go take a shower and a nap, tell me to relax.  It is just me and munchkin fighting through as best we can and praying that this is our last bout of this mess for a long while.  

And all the time that I am doing this and caring for us, I have to make sure that I keep up with work as well.  I know that I am blessed to be in a job that allows me to provide for us, but sometimes I just wish that it was not all on my shoulders, and at that time I think about one of my favorite quotes "When life is too much to stand, KNEEL!"  and I pray.  I thank God for all the blessings that he has bestowed on us and I ask him to continue to provide for us and I give my struggles for him.   I cannot change my circumstances, I cannot bring Robert back, I cannot make munchkin not have these lung issues, I cannot heal my broken heart, I can only have faith that God willl continue to provide for us.  I hold on to that faith to sustain me and know that tomorrow is another day.

Bobby's World

So after moving to our new house, we had a change of TV.  I decided to go with comcast instead of directTv for a myriad of reasons. 

In this, munchkin now has access to the free on demand shows when he is allowed to watch TV.  He has started watching Bobby's World.  He thinks it is hilarious.

For those not in the know...the show is about a mischevious five year old named Bobby and all of his adventures on his big wheel with his crazy family.   I believe it is from the 80's era-I mean a very young Howie Mandel is the host of the show!

Robert, of Bobby as he was called before the age that he decided he no longer wanted to be called that LOVED that show.  He used to tell me of his antics on his big wheel and go cart when he was growing up.  How he used to wear out his shoes instead of using the brakes because he couldn't really "drift" if he used the brakes.  How he used to use the bushes in the backyard to stop his go cart.   He used to tell me that he hoped he had a child that would enjoy the same show and the same antics as him when he was younger. 

It is such a mixed bag of emotion for me that munchkin has found this and likes it so much and is literally doing what his daddy wished to do with him.  He is a high energy happy little boy who loves playing "tricks" on people and just generally engaging in boy mischeif and humor.  It makes my heart swell to see him have so much fun.   But at night, when all is quiet and still, my heart knows how much Robert would have loved to be here with us, my heart aches in doing the parenting that we both longed to do for so many years.  My heart hurts over the fact that the love of my life, is not by my side to enjoy the tastes of our feisty five year old. 

In the light of day, I put a smile on my face and enjoy every minute of his antics complete with giggles and silliness and sloppy hands and kisses.  I know that time is short and soon these days will be replaced with the antics of a teenager!

TV and Reality

Ok, so I don't have a whole lot of time to watch TV...shocking I know!   I do have a few shows that I watch fairly regularly.   Private Practice has been at the top of that very short list for a while. 

Interestingly enough, the show has entertwined with my reality for a while.   There have been 2 widowers and a widow.   One of the widowers remarried and had a baby, he then died and she is now widowed.   I have watched how the show has done a decent job at trying to entertwine their sorrow into the show.  

This past week, Violet was speaking to friends of hers---she was flirted with by a man in a store and went running away in tears.   I totally relate to that....she cries a lot in the rest of the show....relate to that too.  Two things really struck me.  One scene she was in a breakroom crying and a friend tried to hug her becuase he didn't know what to say.  He then changed his mind and told her that 5 years ago, she would not have imagined that life would bring her to her dead husband, two years ago, she could not have imagined being a mother and a year ago she could not have imagined losing Pete.   He went on to tell her, that just becuase she can't see in her mind to look to tomorrow, that doesn't mean that it isn't there.   Her story doesn't end here. 

Now, realize that I am completely paraphrasing here.   But that mantra, really spoke to me.  It is one of those things that I have said to myself.   If someone had told me I would be a mother and a widow within the same twelve months, I would have thought that they were crazy...there was no way to imagine that ever happening.  

If someone had told me that I would survive and dare I say THRIVE in nearly five years of being alone....I would have that they were nutty....in those initial dark months, I could noth fathom surviving, let alone thriving, yet here we are. 

We have some days, and we have some bad days...but they are farther and farther between....sometimes I can go weeks, or months without crying now.  It doesn't change that I miss Robert fiercely.  It does not change the hole in my heart, it simply means that I have chosen to live in the present and to be present for myself and for my child.  

The episode ended with Violet speaking to her friends newborn baby girl.  She is telling her that life is a fairy tale...that she hopes her "story doesn't end with a dead prince".   She walks away and then turns around and comes back.  "Your story will NOT end with a dead prince, no fairy tale ends with a dead prince!"

That simple affirmation, while it may seem slightly morbid to some not acquainted with death and loss is really very hopeful.  

I had a fairy tale...I pray my fairy tale does not end with a dead prince either!