good grief, loss of parent

The Color of Love

WFAM

Today we are officially celebrating the Thanksgiving holiday. All of my in-laws have safely arrived and we will have our big meal this afternoon. The boys are having the time of their lives with all their cousins (all boys, the wine will be flowing which goes without saying).

I’m not going to lie. I have been struggling with the holiday season as I’m sure you all might have guessed. It’s approaching nine months since my Mom passed and I have managed a good amount of healing but the major holidays bring my grief back into acute focus. This is because of her glaring absence and also the collected memories of holidays past shared with her.

I need to acknowledge Mad Dog’s patience with me during all of this. My intense (and often unpredictable) emotional state has been less than pleasant. I have to come to appreciate that glimmer of fear in his eyes anytime that he interacts with me. He knows even a simple question like, “What are you doing today?” could potentially set me off. Oh, grief, what a strange and complicated process! Thank you for putting up with me.

To honor my Mom today I am doing something out of character (no, I am not taking up pole dancing, sorry Mad Dog). I am painting my lips a bold red. My Mom was not a person to fuss with her outward appearance (regardless, she was extremely beautiful). She didn’t care to shop, dress-up or wear make-up. She was more concerned about college football scores or spending time outside. However, on the rare occasion we could get her to dress-up, she would apply her single tube of stately red lipstick. I hope that the lipsticked kiss I am sending towards the heavens reaches her today and that I find the one she’s sending me with at least some of the color and all of the love intact.

children, gratitude, mommyhood, Uncategorized

Hey, Gorgeous!

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Happy Thanksgiving Everyone (okay, more like Happy Thanksgiving All Twelve of My Loyal Readers!).

T.Puzzle woke up with a little sniffle and a sneeze. In good German form I said, “Gesunheidt!” (That’s a shout out to my Mom’s heritage).

“Thank you, Mommy,” T.Puzzle replies.

Full Speed throws in his two cents. “T.Puzzle, when Mommy blesses you, you should say, ‘Thanks, gorgeous’!”

“What did you say, Full Speed?” I ask.

“Thanks, gorgeous!”

“Where did you hear that from?” I wonder. Inside I’m secretly smiling. I know that in a ponytail and sweats I am far from gorgeous. Tired maybe, gorgeous no. I love that in the eyes of my five year old a Mom looks gorgeous no matter what.

“I don’t know, I guess I just made it up,” is his practical reply.

Today I am thankful for a son who thinks I’m ‘gorgeous’ and am hoping my readers are spending time with people who think the same of them.

Happy Thanksgiving, Gorgeous!

humor, mommyhood

Next Time

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One major perk of writing a mommyhood blog is that when my boys are acting completely out of control, I know I will have some good material. It doesn’t necessarily help in the heat of the moment but it does give me a slight, intellectual step back from the insanity. That can be helpful. Especially for a late afternoon like the one we had.

T.Puzzle and I had a relatively uneventful day. He took an extremely long nap which could mean one of two things: the heavens were smiling on me or he is coming down with something. Either way I didn’t question my good fortune, I enjoyed my break and felt refreshed as we headed to get Full Speed from school.

Pick up was fairly normal until we came back out to the lobby. There was a folding table off to the left that had the final product of the boys’ recent school portraits. Of course I didn’t have my wallet and today was the last day I could purchase them (yes, I let that one slip right by me). So, I’m standing there feeling the pressure. I want to make a quick decision and then in all likelihood run home (which is only couple miles away) and return with my wallet in hand. I stumble upon two obstacles. The first is that my children are fantastically photogenic (no bias on my part of course) so their pictures are adorable. We just had a family sitting that was the bomb, too. How can I justify buying more photos of these guys? Shouldn’t I at least run this by Mad Dog?

 

The second hurdle is, well, you know my boys. It gets to the point that I can’t even think straight. They are running around and start beating on each other. Soon one is crawling over a chair about to leap and the other is on his heels. The energy level in the small, confined space of the lobby is reaching a fever pitch. I make a hasty apology to the picture people and promise my return. I grab the boys, head to the truck and it goes from bad to worse.

T.Puzzle is feeling sassy. He tells his brother there are ‘no pictures’ at all of Full Speed. This hurts Full Speed’s feelings and he melts down screaming. He can’t believe T.Puzzle would say such a thing. I strap them both in and before you know it, Full Speed is whaling on his little brother like there is no tomorrow. At this point I have Mad Dog on the phone to explain the picture dilemma but I can barely hear him over the hysteria. They are screaming in stereo.

I say, “Could you hold on for a moment?” into the phone and proceed to threaten them. “The next person that speaks will immediately go to their room when we get home!” It works enough that I can get us home with a tenuous air of peace in the truck. They know I’m serious.

When I pull in the driveway and take the keys from the ignition I slowly and deliberately turn around. “I’m glad you were able to be quiet for the remainder of the ride home. However, your behavior in the lobby was unacceptable. You do not behave that way. You show respect for each other and listen to what your Mom says.” I feel very confident I have turned a horrible episode into a watershed, teachable moment. My boys have learned their behavioral lesson.

Full Speed looks dubious. I sit back and wait for his contrition. Instead all I get is, “Mom, what’s a lobby?”

Oh well, maybe they’ll learn something next time because as we all know, there always is a next time with these two guys.

happiness, marital blissishness

Good Company

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We had a spur of the moment date night. Our babysitter learned her work schedule and realized she had some availability last night. I learned this at about 5:30pm. I had taken the boys to the park and was on my way home to make them dinner. It still amazes me that phrases like ‘don’t sit on that boy’s head’ or ‘stop tackling your brother on top of the slide’ are used with regularity. When will I say simple phrases like, ‘no’ or ‘time to go’ without a hint of a threat behind it? Never? Don’t answer; I need some denial to survive their boyhoods.

My day had been hectic. I was grateful both boys were at school as I prepared my home for our upcoming holiday guests. I was in high gear and stressed out. I knew once we all returned from the park I’d have laundry to organize and a list of other chores I wanted done before we left on our date. Through the chaos, I got almost everything done although at great personal sacrifice to my outward appearance. Let’s just say a t-shirt, stretchy black pants, minimalist make-up (a fancy way to say lip gloss only) and a pony-tail completed my high fashion ensemble. I didn’t care; I was going on a date!!

Mad Dog was a champ. He sat through a very long and in my opinion, very good New Moon. It was broody, forlorn and moved mostly at a snail’s pace (thank goodness for a couple action sequences with werewolves for poor Mad Dog’s sake). Mad Dog had even let the boys pick out an Edward doll for me at Target (that’s who they are posing with at breakfast) a couple days prior to show his support for my mild Twilight obsession (I say mild because it’s nothing compared to my SATC obsession).

As we sat in the darkened theater I realized marriage is a lot like going to the movies. Sometimes you both agree on what movie to see and sometimes you have to let your partner decide. It’s just nice to have company no matter what you choose.

children, humor, life in pictures, parenting

Real Men Eat Spicy Chicken

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It starts out innocent enough, even quite promising if I’m going to go out on a limb. Mad Dog was home early and it made it possible for us to go out to dinner as a family. On the weekends you have to make sure to go early for optimal success with the boys.

We thought we would try the new Caribbean restaurant in our neighborhood. Obviously we were aware that a new, ethnic cuisine could get dicey with the boys. We figured if the restaurant planned to stay afloat in these difficult economic times (and tucked away in a neighborhood) it would HAVE to have a children’s menu. No such luck so, we improvise (that’s like 98% of parenthood anyway).

Mad Dog and I determine the safest bet for the boys are a tortilla-type appetizer filled with rice and beans. The owner also gives them a sample of some fresh-from-the-oven flatbread. When they arrive at our table, they don’t look especially appetizing but are actually quite tasty. Yeah, try convincing a five year old or a two year old of that. I do my best, upbeat coaching speech. “Why these are yummy, yummy ‘crackers’. Try them, they are very grown-up (that usually at least peaks Full Speed’s interest) and super-good!”

They’re smart little suckers and don’t buy it. We coax and cajole them so at least they get a few bites in their stomachs. They actually were good sports but we knew they weren’t eating enough.

Mad Dog and my entrees arrive. They were good, full of delicious spices and textures and wholly unappealing to the young men at our table. Mad Dog did convince Full Speed to try some of his jerk chicken. Full Speed took a tentative bite. He must have felt confident it wasn’t too spicy because he bravely asked for another bite. Before he finishes chewing, he leaps from the table and urgently announces, “I have to POOP!” Mad Dog grabs Full Speed’s Gatorade (to help with his burning mouth) and rushes him to the bathroom. The whole while poor Full Speed’s body is rigid with fright and his cheeks are a burning red.

In the bathroom, Mad Dog later reported, Full Speed hops on the potty while Mad Dog gives him liquids (Mad Dog likened it to being a trainer for a boxer in the ring). Full Speed realizes he doesn’t have to go. We figured his body went into a sort of shock from the spices and he didn’t know what was happening; he deduced it must need to poop.

When we knew he was fully recovered we laughed and laughed. Full Speed informed us that this place was ‘okay for snacks but let’s never have dinner here, again.’

We took the boys to Sonic afterwards. It would have been so much easier if we had gone there in the first place, but where’s the adventure in that?