I was having a conversation with my son about bullying today. And I kinda have a feeling it's not going to be the last time I have this kind of a conversation with him; and it kinda hurts my heart.

We were having lunch together at a Chinese buffet. I asked him about school, his favorite subject (he's in fourth grade), his least favorite subject, why each are each.... that led to what he was learning about, the books they are reading in class, what he likes to read about, etc. Eventually it led to the conversation about who his friends are, and who he doesn't get along with. I asked him why he doesn't get a long with the ones he doesn't; and his remark kind of made me laugh.

"Well, there's Alex, Alex is my arch enemy"..... I stifled a chuckle, and said that he wasn't a character in a fantasy novel; he shouldn't have someone whom he would refer to as an "arch enemy".

I asked why Alex was his "arch enemy" and what Alex did to make him feel that they can't be friends.

He said Well, I just don't like Alex.
I said Well, what did he do to make you not like him?

That's when he informed me that Alex is, in fact, a girl.

I stifled another incredulous laugh..... I know.... I don't know why I did, but I found it to be funny.

Anyway, it turns out that he doesn't like Alex because she is 'constantly' arguing with him and causing him grief. It all started over the spots on the carpet.

I said well what else do you argue about- the way the light dims over your desk?

He rolled his eyes and chuckled..... I said I think you secretly like this girl..... and he gave me the evil eye.

Ok, so sarcastic remarks, stifled laughs and evil glares aside, we started having the conversation about kids who are being mean in school and/or teasing him a lot. He says that the majority of the boys in his class (with the exception of a few) have been the ones to tease him, kind of relentlessly, and that I asked him who he plays with at recess.

"Mostly girls" He says.
Well what kind of things do you guys play? I asked.
"Mostly like games where we chase each other around and stuff"

"Well what kinds of things do the kids that tease you say?"
"Like they make fun of me because I'm not sporty like them" He replies, meekly.
"Just because you DON'T play in sports currently doesn't mean you aren't sporty" I replied

What I fear though, is that next year, he starts middle school; and we all know that bullying only progressively gets worse as kids get into their upper grade years. I worry that it's not going to matter what I say, and ultimately, I know that that's true. There is going to come a point and time in my kids' lives that my words aren't going to be in play anymore; they are going to fall on deaf ears. And I really, truly worry about that, especially with my first born here.... He has had to deal with so many trials and frustrations in his almost ten years of life... it's not fair. Life just doesn't get calmer or easier for him. He doesn't have the coping mechanisms or the self esteem that will withstand the degree of 'picking at' that middle and high school kids can dish out.

And then there's the fact that he recently had a run in with another student in school during which he made a pretty intense threat to that student, in a very immature yet serious way that elementary kids who don't think before they speak will do. He was punished in school for this threat; but now because there is a record of him making this threat, his father points out that in the future, any credibility that he is just "defending himself" as we would have ordinarily encouraged him to do will go out the window because he's on record as having made this threat. I can see where his father is coming from, but it is my fear that this is going to make our son a "target" for bullying in the future, because other kids will know that he won't do anything to defend himself, because his father and stepmother have both said that he should NOT defend himself because of the threat he made. I worry that we are giving our son the wrong idea. I fear that we are telling him basically go to school, suck it up and keep your head down. That's not fair, in my own personal opinion. And there are too many scenarios where this could go wrong.

Say, for instance, that E believes that a child who walks up to him and; for whatever or no reason at all; slaps him in the face..... that he should 'walk away, find a teacher and explain what happened'.... I know (and actually, everyone probably knows) what will happen..... he will be labeled a 'tattle-er' and he will get bullying for THAT.

So I stuck to what I've always said. I said "If someone continues to bully you and then puts his hands on you, you absolutely should defend yourself. Just make sure you have a witness to that person putting their hands on you FIRST. Have an alibi.... that should be your life's motto.... always have an alibi"

Of course, because I'm a mom, I fear I am screwing up my child's future. Of course I fear that I am teaching him the wrong thing. But I've been bullied, and I don't remember the hundreds of hits, punches, and/or pushes that have been blown to me..... I only remember the one that I dealt back.......

......Just before I got my glasses smacked off my face and broken on the floor.

I've always said it; and I will go to my grave living it: You had better not throw the first punch EVER, but you'd damn well better get the last one.

Am I teaching him right by telling him to defend himself? I don't know. But I can promise him that as long as I have breath and life; I will always try to advocate for him, and will stand by him protecting himself and those he cares about.

Until Next Time,
Just Another One.

How do I feel about being a mom. 

I get asked that a lot.... being a childcare giver for most of my adult life, I always swore I would never have kids of my own. Was even told that by 3 different doctors. But, the big man upstairs laughs at that and blesses me with two little men in my life that I get to call my own.

Everyone knows that Elijah's pregnancy was really hard for me to accept for a while. I didn't think that I could accept that I was bringing a life into this mean spirited world. I would say to his father that I didn't think he would make it to age 5; this world would have gone to hell in a hand basket before then. I was scared -- terrified, really-- and this was no news to the dad-to-be or to my family; who really made me feel like I was going to be a horrible mother because I could actually talk this way.

Everyone would annoy me to pieces by constantly telling me when I held this little newborn baby in my arms, I would just be so overcome with love and passion that everything would change- my feelings of being scared or worried or paranoid, as some would say, would subside, and I would be able to concentrate on nothing more than the amazing peace and care and concern I now felt as am official mother. Sometimes I still look at this almost 10 year old child and wonder how the hell did this happen? When did I earn the right to call this child mine? When did the paralyzing fear and worry and feelings of over-protection turn into pure amazing simplified adoration and love? Who is this little person that can step all over my heart- and does, on occasion- but win me over faster than anything with that smile and hug and an "i love you mommy?"

How do I feel about being a mom?

I'll never forget that feeling when you're doing the simplest of things- taking a shower; reading; watching tv.. or nothing at all; maybe just trying to lay down and go to sleep--- and it feels like baby whale has invaded your tummy to go wade fishing all of a sudden.... you grasp your tummy and smile..... and say "well hello to you to, little baby"...... people say you forget about those minor things..... or just laying down and watching this little baby inside you move around and your belly literally changes form as you see a foot kick the skin out or an arm as it graces your belly button and - OW- those little pains and aches as it pulls on things for fun in there.....
You sit there and wonder what kind of a mom you'll be. You pray for the wisdom to come when you scream out "I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH THAT CHILD!".... you pray for the strength to come when you don't think you can stay awake one more moment to catch yet another bout of vomit with the stupid makeshift bucket you've made out of an old paint can. You cry and laugh and love when you didn't - I mean truly did NOT- think it was possible to move anymore..... you wonder for the hundredth time if you made the right decision in Punishment 10,784; you cry yourself to sleep and wake up and put that wonder woman cape back on, hoping today that you're worthy of it.

How do I know I'm a mommy? Because I have the craziest, most hair pulling out days, and I swear that tomorrow can't be any worse...... but when it is, I kinda chuckle to myself and find myself on my mediation chair (the toilet.. c'mon now....) praying to god to give me the courage and power to go out there and face the demon(s) known as my flesh and blood one more minute. I prepare for battle, and I am faced with the worst of the worst..... the looks of hurt as I put one in time out..... the bullets of anger from the older one who says "I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING" as he stomps his way into his bedroom to avoid the punishment 10,785.
I duck as I see the arms that flail two milliliters from my head from a three year old purposely trying to spin himself into a dizzy spell, laughing as he falls to the ground and getting up to do it all over again.
I gasp as I see the cup of chocolate milk that he has just not-quite-put the lid on correctly before it hits the ground and spills out ALL OVER everything that I've just cleaned.
I smile as I watch them holding hands in the backseat- totally oblivious that I can see it- and knowing that they love each other so fiercely.
I laugh with tears- I know, crazy, right?- as I see my once labeled delayed/disabled/special needs child- fly through with flying colors a test that I just cringe as I hear the instructions because I think "good god... they want him to WHAT?" ...... but he just does it. Amazing.

It's having the worse freaking week- so hard and challenging that Friday comes and I find myself saying "THANK GOD you're going with DADDY this weekend.... Mommy is going to MAUI!"
........ Yet breaking down in tears once they have walked out the door because you wonder if the only thing the kid is going to remember is that you hollered at/punished them for something three days ago, and they aren't going to want to come home. (No, seriously- this happens A LOT).... and you cry and cry and say you need him to come home NOW.

How do I feel being a mommy?

Goodness.... it's complicated.
It's insane.
It's.....
it's.....
It is... where the crazy meets laughter. On the good days.

Until next time,
Just Another One.

I'm sitting here and the house is quiet. But you know, it's that TOO quiet kinda feeling.

I'm wondering; as I sit here and watch my 2 year old (soon to be three year old....sniff, sniff... don't even get me started) napping.... and the feeling I have in my pit on my stomach..... in the small, hollow, empty spot of my heart.... it brings tears to my eyes.

I love this boy more than life itself.

And of course.... like most mothers... in the still of the quietness; in the lull of the tv show and the loud TICK-TOCK of the clock above my head.... in the peaceful, heart-stopping, mind racing stillness of the day.... I'm wondering.... have I told him that enough lately.

And as I sit here and look over at him sleeping, I get this ping of sadness over the fact that just a little over a week ago, his brother was here, laughing with him and causing all kinds of raucous with him. And I sigh as the fresh tears pour from my eyes and only then do I realize.... as much as I've tried so hard to be all positive and cheery to my kids about Elijah going home with his dad, stepmom and new baby brother..... I want to scream- it's not right. It's hasn't been long enough. Dear god, just a few more days! (Till after such, I will scream out just a few more!)

I love these kids more than life itself.

It's not right. I mean I understand it, but it's still not right. I get to look forward to the weeks (8 out of the year) that I have with my child... and in a Poof! it's gone.

I push aside the fresh vomit I can taste from the pits of my stomach to the lump in the back of my throat.

I cry in the loneliness of the shower days leading up to "goodbye" day, and I cry at night when my kids are snuggled up to either each other or me (depending on their preference for that night) and I push it aside again and again because these kids deserve to not have a mother that is falling apart inside at the thought of yet another goodbye.

I asked Elijah the day before he was to go home- "Are you SO excited about going home to see daddy and Sarah and your baby brother?" his response makes me shatter a little bit inside. "Yeah... I guess... but... Mommy. My home is here with you"

Um, what am I -- the expected wall of upbeat positivism and cheery-ness-- supposed to say to that?

Well, I said what I guessed I was expected to say "Babe, you can miss me and you can miss being here and that's understandable because god knows we all miss you SO much when you're not here; but you have two homes, and when the reality is that some kids don't have any place to call home; you're pretty lucky and blessed. You have SO many people around you that love you and want to see all the great things you're going to do-- and that's amazing because there aren't a lot of people that can say that. You have two brothers that you get to be a role model and an example for- isn't that pretty amazing? Let's talk about all the things that you can teach them as they grow....."

And even though I feel like a huge hypocrite because I'm telling my kid to look at all the bright sides of the crappy situation as I can't even hardly contain the tears in my throat that are protesting as quickly as I can get the words out..... but my son believes me. He sees the rainbow (that's nearly invisible) that I"m trying so desperately hard to point out to him... and he grabs a hold of it and hugs it.

One more hard goodbye is handled with care with god's holy arms wrapped around me; wiping the tears from my heart before they escape down my face.

I hold it together pretty well on the day of "goodbye". We have lunch with mom-mom and pop-pop and we make a plan to go to the toy store afterwards so that they can spend their gift card that Uncle got them for Christmas. I only have to win one race (Tears vs Safety of restroom) during the lunch, and I just keep ignoring the lump in the back of my throat even as a few times I can almost choke on my food, it's so prevalent

I try to laugh and smile and tell the kids a million and one times this day that I love them. It's not enough, but it will have to do because the older one gets a little bit annoyed quicker than the "good old days" when I could tell him from morning till night and he would always repeat it back without said annoyance in his tone.

Ethan's dad comes to get him for the night, and I try to explain that his brother is going home with HIS dad so he should kiss him and say byebye until next time. Of course, his two year old (sniff, sniff. almost three) brain doesn't quite get it... and although he says byebye and love yous and gives hugs and kisses.... I hope in my heart of hearts that he somehow does get it and won't have a universal meltdown when he gets back home and realizes his brother isn't there.

I knew the day would definitely come where there would be this incredible earth shattering sadness when Ethan DID realize that Elijah was going to be on a "goodbye" for a long while. I dreaded it and anticipated it, and every visit/"goodbye" I am anxious for it. That look on his sweet little innocent face when he realizes that it's not just a "see you later..." like as in TONIGHT..... but a "goodbye" for weeks/months.

It came. The day of New Year, January 1st, 2018...... when Ethan got back in the car with me.... and he said Elijah's name over and over again. I tried to make him understand, but I will never forget the look of brokenness that invaded his sweet face. He wanted nothing to do with me when he realized it. He didn't even want to look at me. Not even a trip to Bob Evans could do the trick. He was heartbroken. And I felt so completely a failure as a mother. It's one thing for ME to feel that in the pit of my stomach and to just sit there in the solitude of the shower floor crying my eyes out.... but how could I fix this for my little innocent boy?

I always concentrated so hard on making it ok for Elijah..... I never really thought about how I can make it easier for Ethan. "Elijah had to go to school" is what I told him.... but he wasn't even responding or making eye contact and the look on his face told me there would be a massive tsunami of tears if I didn't do something at lightening speed here.

"Do you want to talk to Elijah?" I asked
No response. I got him on the phone and even still Ethan would not acknowledge him. It wasn't until I said Ok well Elijah's got to go, say byebye! that a look of panic came over his face and he started yelling BYE BYE to ELijah and with his thumb placed in his mouth soothing himself; he said "I love you ELijah!"

I love these boys more than life itself.

I heard a bunch of people asking 'how was your new years celebration?'

And a lot of responses stopped me cold in my tracks. "Eh, was just another day"

Don't they realize.... it wasn't just another day. It was just another heartbreaking "goodbye" day.

Until next time,
Just Another One.

You know, It's really hard to decide on what to write about here. Not because I don't have much to talk about; not because I don't have a million and one ideas or thoughts running through my mind of things to say.... but because I get a bit overwhelmed when deciding on the one topic to write about on any specific day/night. Is that silly?

Truth is, I get overwhelmed a lot. With emotion over any given situation/event that I'm dealing with at the time. But, I try to deal with it all with grace and patience..... I just usually fail miserably. 

I don't have much patience, in general. I don't know why... but if I have to wait for ANYthing, it's usually pretty much a failed effort after the first ten minutes. I guess patience is kind of a hard thing to come by with anyone these days.... the world wants everything NOW and I've come to realize that waiting is usually just an annoyance that most people can't afford anymore. 

Today, I took Ethan to Mcdonalds for lunch. I try really hard to remind myself A LOT throughout the day to "be in the moment" with my kids. Especially when I only see one of my kids roughly 8 weeks out of the year.... but I digress.... So, in an effort to "be in the moment" today, I made it a point not to open the laptop OR the tablet that I'd brought into Mcdonalds (Mcdonalds has free wifi, so I tend to gravitate there a lot if I have work to do online and I want to get out of the house to do it).... Well, I made it a point not to open either device and to actually -gasp- have a conversation with my 2.5 year old at lunch. 

Anyway, he finished most of his lunch, and in an effort to "treat" him for this, I let him have his toy to play with while we were still there. I was showing him how to work the toy, and he; like his mommy; got very impatient and took the toy from me to try and figure it out himself. I watched him for a second, Mr. Independent that he is... and I wondered as I saw his face intent and hard staring at this toy and trying to figure it out; and then growing frustrated and impatient and throwing it down on the floor and running away. I picked it up and called him back over to the table. I said "Let mommy show you how it works, ok?" And he responded with "o-k mommy"..... 

The next ten minutes was spent with him and I laughing and going back and forth with this toy; making the disc fly into the air, and he was cracking up. It's the kind of laugh that makes me smile just thinking back on it now......

We left the restaurant and were walking back to the car. I was telling him we had to hurry because we were heading somewhere else... Well, every mom knows that when you tell a kid to hurry.... well, it never goes well. 

Anyway, He was being quite the slow poke getting in his seat, and I got a bit frustrated and rolled my eyes and sighed. Well, it was then that the elderly lady that was sitting in the car next to us opened her door and said to me "I just wanted to tell you--- I've been watching you with him in the restaurant and now-- and you have incredible patience with him" That, of course, made me smile and thank her and feel so grateful for the opportunity to truly know what it means to "be in the moment". To have the ability to make memories with my kids. To be able to give them memories that they may or may not remember for a long time to come.... or may or may not think about on those moments or days or times when they need something to chase that black cloud away. 

I don't have a lot of money, and god knows I can't take my kids on cruises or to disney world every year; and god knows there are times more often than I'd like to think about that I am literally contemplating if I will have to break into my kids' piggy banks for gas money today..... but I have faith and somehow, someway..... it always seems to be just enough. 

I try to teach my kids to appreciate what they have. That is probably one of the most important lessons I want to instill in them. Be grateful for what you have, and APPRECIATE the sacrifices and work and efforts that went into getting you what you have. Take nothing for granted. That's really important to me to teach my boys. 

What's the most important lesson you hope to bestow upon yours?

Until next time,
Just another one.

In case you were wondering.... it's been hard. 

The pain that has been in my life has been incredibly hard. But the joy that I have felt and the memories that I hold onto in my heart make the pain less hardened. 

I have two amazing children. 

Ethan, who is 2.5 is a strong willed, fiercely independent, incredibly frustrating, amazingly sweet little boy. He's 2, going on 30... which is a fantastic thing to watch every day because he was born 2 months premature. Ethan gave me the most difficult time on his journey into the world. I questioned everything and all of me every single day. I'll talk more about that later.

Elijah, well he's my wonderful, trying, impatient, affectionate 9.5 year old. Elijah is my heart. He's my number 1, my first.... my loyal, loving, little man. He has always been so loving to us; even when the world doesn't seem right to him. Even when people say or do bad things in front of; to; or around him. Elijah is the reason I still have faith. 

My children are where crazy meets laughter. 

On any given day, I question myself a million and one times. Just like any other mom. Ever since finding out about being pregnant with Elijah, and then 8 years later,  Ethan.... I've often wondered if I've been unknowingly cast in a neverending episode of "Punked!" or "Candid Camera!" .... between trying to juggle parenting a child that lives 500 miles away; and trying to be an advocate for a 2.5 year old mildly special needs child.... There isn't more than a minute or two that is actually MINE in a day, even long after said children are long asleep in bed. 

Take, for instance, the fact that right now, I am half watching a movie on lifetime. I've rewound the same 30 second dialogue between one semi-homicidal wife and her ex nanny-turned-lover to her husband. (I think that's what I've gotten out of the three times I've half listened to it anyway)... while I'm doing this, I'm also watching Ethan sleep, and running through in my mind if I remembered A-Z of the list of routine bedtime functions we do daily. Is it warm enough in here? Is he wearing warm enough PJ's? Is he sweating? Did I remember to kiss him goodnight? Was I too impatient with him today? Did I yell at him a lot? What is it that I am supposed to take him to tomorrow again? Wait.... HOW the hell can he possibly SLEEP like THAT?? 

See what I mean? Where the crazy meets laughter. 

Until next time,
Just another one.