Category: self-discovery

children, loss of parent, mommyhood, self-discovery

Sad Smile

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December has not been the easiest month to get through without my Mom. I admit that when my sister was here I began to see glimpses of a newly constructed future without my Mom at its foundation. There is much happiness to be had. I also realized that by seeing the joy in my life doesn’t mean that I have forgotten my Mom, but that she is living on happily through me. However, as I have gotten deeper into the heart of this Christmas month, I am missing her more than ever.

Even though I am sad it helps to have my boys around. They are so enthusiastic about Christmas and all its wonder that I can’t help but smile.

Even a sad smile counts I suppose.

children, gratitude, loss of parent, self-discovery, self-image/self-acceptance

Zits Happen

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I have a bone to pick with my beloved ‘People’ magazine. This week’s issue has an article highlighting Demi Moore and her uncanny ability to seemingly be aging in reverse. Don’t misunderstand me. I think she is an example of as you uncover the truth of yourself, you shine internally and externally. I love that her husband is several years younger and I aspire to be a smidgeon of that gorgeous when I am forty-seven (hey, miracles happen, right?). The article claims she’s never had plastic surgery (okay I can buy that) and splashes her upcoming December ‘W’ magazine cover as part of their pictorial. She looks incredible and about twenty-two years old.

I’m sure in person she is quite beautiful but they clearly forgot to mention the air brushing and photo shopping that went into this magnificent photo. I suppose they aren’t totally responsible for feeding into a hard-pressed quest for perfection. I mean it is the nature of the celebrity, youth-obsessed, cultural beast. If I ever have the chance to get on the cover of a magazine (so likely, I know), I say photo-shop away. I’m only saying this because on my recent family portrait sitting, our photographer photo-corrected one picture of me so I could see if I liked it (yes, sir, may I have another!). I looked at least five (maybe ten) years younger (he calls it digital Botox) and it appeared as if my face hadn’t seen the likes of a zit in twenty years (which is not the case because I grew a new one yesterday, last week and the week before that). All I’m saying is I want to look the best I possibly can for whatever age I am and apparently, air brushing can make that all possible. I just wish magazines would attempt to bring some realism into their photos. Aging can be beautiful. It brings wisdom, inner strength and experience. Let’s try our best to embrace it, one tired Mommy at a time.

Okay, I just stepped down (you know, off my soapbox and all). Now, back to my family portrait. Mad Dog and I made it into the studio to pick out our favorites pa183403(with two adorable boys that pretty much encompasses every, single photo)pa183383. The photographer pulled the best of the best and set it to music. He had it projected on to a huge wall and it was everything I could do to not break down and start weeping uncontrollably. Why? Because I love my three boys more than anything else on earth and when you feel a love like that, you gasp as it takes your breath away.

I also was overwhelmed with the knowledge in my heart that my Mom wouldn’t be sharing in these photos at all. I didn’t have to order her a single one (normally, I ordered her just as much as I ordered myself). This made me infinitely sad.

I was an emotional wreck by the time our photo choosing was complete. I felt I had run through a rainbow of feelings and it was quite stressful. So much in fact, I think I feel another zit coming on.

gratitude, happiness, parenting, self-discovery

Full Hands, Full Heart

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It’s that time of the year again. It’s picture day for my guys. It is becoming tradition that around the first of November, I book a sitting to document another year passed. I figure early November is a good point as it’s a couple weeks after Full Speed’s birthday and a few weeks before T.Puzzle’s. This also gives us ample time to order extra photos for holiday gifts. Mad Dog surprised me and was game to make it a family photo op as well. He made a good point that both our boys had new glasses and it would be nice to commemorate that. Full Speed’s changed because of surgery and T.Puzzle’s changed because he could finally read letters and be tested accurately (turns out he was farsighted even though under anesthesia he measured nearsighted; that’s another blog for another day).

I made an appointment at the hair salon to get my hair washed and blown out for early in the morning. Why does it look so much better to have a professional do something as simple as blow dry your hair? That means I had to have everything laid out for Mad Dog to get the boys ready for pictures. He was even going to shower them. They needed it (especially T.Puzzle!).

For any Moms out there who have ever coordinated a family portrait, enormous planning goes into it. To have everyone matching but not too matchy, and clean, pressed and smiling is nothing short of miraculous.

Overall, the boys had their smiling moments and their not-so-smiling moments. They hugged, they fought, they fell over in a big, wrestly heap. Inevitably the woman who was assisting the photographer turns to me and says, “You certainly have your hands full, don’t you?” If I had a dollar for every time I’ve heard this exact sentence from the public at large I would be a gazillionaire. For years this has aggravated me to the depths of my soul. Why? That’s because it’s like stating the obvious. It’s like saying the sky is up and no matter how hard you try, my dear, you will never be Sarah Jessica Parker (I know, I know, I don’t even own a pair of Manolos or Jimmy Choos).

I’m changing my tune. My new response? A deep breath, a pause and this thought: full hands means a full heart.

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good grief, self-discovery

The Chainsaw Perspective

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It’s Halloween and I’m not feeling it. I’m guessing all the holidays after losing someone you love don’t have the luster they normally have. I didn’t put out any Halloween decorations this year. On the plus side, clean up is already done.

It’s not like my Mom and I hung out together on Halloween or had lavish Halloween traditions. However, she always knew what our plans were and I always shared the experience with her through phone calls and pictures. I don’t like not being able to share those things with her. Therefore, I don’t like holidays that create these sharable moments particularly much this year.

Despite my personal agreement with myself on Halloween morning to be cranky and ambivalent, I started to have some fun. There’s something about putting a Transformers costume on a sweet-faced two year-old that seems so wrong it becomes right. The boys were so passionate about trick-or-treating and their costumes I started to get swept up in their enthusiasm.

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pa313466As our evening wound down and we came home, they got even more hyped up to hand out the remainder of our candy. Full Speed would go to the end of our driveway and announce, “Candy for sale, come right up and get your candy!” Then as the stream of costumed neighbors paraded up, he would race back to our green kiddie table and distribute the goods. I would sit back and watch as the two of them would give about fifty-seven pieces of candy to ONE princess (they really dug the princesses) and then I would have to step in and say ‘enough!’. It was pure joy to watch them have so much fun.

I don’t know why, but this cheered me even more. My neighbor dressed in flannel and a scary mask had a chainsaw (with no chain) that he would fire up out of the darkness as the trick-or-treaters approached. The kids were taken off guard and some were genuinely scared. Everyone involved had a good time especially when the kids realized there was no real danger.
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The moral of the story is that even if you plan on not having fun, life can surprise you. You will be shocked to find you are having a good time. Sometimes all you need is a man in a scary mask with a chainsaw to put things into perspective (well, you know what I mean).

good grief, loss of parent, self-discovery

The Force

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Last night was date night. It was rather exceptional. Of course any time a stay-at-home Mom showers and puts on make-up makes an evening exceptional. This was exceptional for other reasons. Mad Dog took me to see Star Wars in Concert. I loved it.

The whole outing made me feel loved and special. Only someone who knows me well (like my husband) would know to take me to something like this. Even if the show was lame (which it was not) I felt the night was a success because he recognized my love of all things Star Wars. Thank you Mad Dog. Han Solo’s got nothing on you (except maybe the Millennium Falcon)!

I had a moment as the opening and highly recognizable crescendo of Star Wars theme music kicked off the show and my heart welled up and broke a little. I have these moments in my life that I off-handedly think, ‘can’t wait to tell my Mom about this’. The thought leaves my brain before my heart has a chance to remind it that she’s not here anymore. When it happens it knocks the wind out of my lungs and I miss her so much everything hurts.

A Mom knows you almost better than you know yourself (that is if you are lucky enough to have a kind and compassionate variety such as myself). She would have gotten a huge kick out of hearing about my Star Wars experience. She was there as I grew up and my sister and I watched Star Wars dozens of times. She respected the fact that Han Solo was my first love. She knew the force was strong in me and loved me anyway.

Star WarsI know on some level she sees my life and is part of it everyday. She knows I had a great time on my date and that the music of the trilogy I love so much moved me. Although she is no longer physically tangible to me, I can feel her with me in the deep pause between life’s moments. I haven’t totally accepted that she is gone. I have totally accepted that she knew me and loved me like only a mother could. And that is a force all unto its own.