Motherhood Insanity

how much do we really care about all people?

2020-04-01T14:51:00.002-04:00

I haven't wrote on here in a long time. Mainly because my actual life is do busy when I have time to stop I would rather relax then write. Now, however in this very odd situation we all find ourselves in I have some free time. Please excuse the mess while I re-stretch this muscle of writing.

So let's get started...

WTF? How did we all get into a situation were there is an actual pandemic so we have to navigate all our daily problems under the microscope of what can happen if we even leave our home? Plus, the issue of people having no home to stay within. It's the ultimate showdown of how much we care about others. And then if we really care about others are we willing to risk ourselves to help them while also asking that of others.

It throws no many things into a tailspin with special circumstances for every resulting situation.

There's a pandemic, kids can't be at school. But they get their food for the day from school. Ok, we will risk ourselves and make sure school children have food. But by doing so you put every one of those kids at risk because something could happen and our precautions aren't enough and these kids could become victims of the pandemic we are trying to protect them from. It's constant. There is no "only one right answer". It's driving my mad!

I feel like I'm watching a survivor style existence battle between most of Bernie Sanders platforms and this pandemic.

Most things you do for yourself in some capacity means other humans are having to put themselves in danger. Even the act of needing and buying food. You go to a grocery store, you put yourself at risk plus those you live with while also putting everyone else at risk for being the reason they need to be risking themselves.

It's the ultimate my life is more important than yours but only possible because of others. So we make sacrifices, we determine what risks are ok. For some that's flooding the internet with shopping for delivery so we don't have to go out. That means people in places are gathered to fulfill these orders putting themselves in danger. And these people are usually those that don't get supported for wanting their jobs treated as an essential part of society.

Take Amazon for example. They have had issues in distribution centers of people having COVID-19. Those that work there don't get paid enough to be risking themselves to be there but they also just expect the company they work for to take steps to better protect them so they can meet the needs asked of them. The deserve better working conditions. Thus we have corporations putting monetary value on human beings. How many can we sacrifice to maintain a profitable and essential need requirement? And it's wrong that a company does this, ever. However, they are allowing others to maintain staying at home protecting themselves. So it's an endless cycle of the "essential" employee needing to have the public care enough about them that they are at least:

Paid a wage that supports them and their families
Healthcare so if they, while putting themselves at risk, get sick they can be taken care of without having to worry about losing income or their healthcare
Closing the loopholes available to corporations to keep from providing those first 2 things.

Now in solving this issue other problems arise from childcare to what constitutes good healthcare. All of which need solved in order for the two original needs to be met.

Which all leads me back to...

WTF!!! How did we get into this bad of a situation.

Yes, the word hero fits!

2015-06-02T21:42:00.000-04:00

I'm reached my limit with seeing negative posts about Caitlyn Jenner. Let's for this post remove religion from the conversation because I have no desire to feed into that delusion. For this post, I'm sticking to the word hero. For starters:

Hero:

1. a man of distinguished courage or ability, admired for his brave deeds and noble
qualities.

2. a person who, in the opinion of others, has heroic qualities or has performed a heroic act and is regarded as a model or ideal: He was a local hero when he saved the drowning child.

3. the principal male character in a story, play, film, etc.

4. Classical Mythology.

a being of godlike prowess and beneficence who often came to be honored as a divinity.
(in the Homeric period) a warrior-chieftain of special strength, courage, or ability.
(in later antiquity) an immortal being; demigod.

5. hero sandwich.

6. the bread or roll used in making a hero sandwich.

Many people look up to athletes. Many have been called heros and whether they have liked it or not have been seen as role models. Bruce Jenner was a hero in this sense for many because of his Olympic/athletic accomplishments. So by the first definition it would be safe to say Bruce Jenner had a distinguished ability and was thus a hero.

It is this second definition I want to focus. I first realize that "in the opinion of others" is where many can and have said Caitlyn Jenner is not a hero. I strongly disagree but believe you have your right to believe as you wish but I DO NOT understand or condone your willingness to tear this person apart simply because she doesn't fit your definition of hero.

The transgendered community has a hero in Caitlyn Jenner because her ability to transition into her true self will give hope to those struggling, she will serve as a reminder to those contemplating suicide that they can survive. Caitlyn Jenner will save lives because she was willing to be so public about her struggle and her fight to become who she always felt she was. The fact you try to discredit this is part of the problem.

If you can hear the statistic that over 80% of transgendered people experience some form of harassment and that nearly half of all transgendered youth have contemplated suicide and gain no understanding of why acceptance is important than you are part of the problem.

It takes incredible amounts of courage to stop being what you think you have to be or what people think you should be. It takes courage to stop playing your life by others standards. It takes courage to tell people something you know they won't like or accept and risk loosing their love and support.

Too often in this world we try to make everyone fit our definitions of what we believe they should be. We have struggled as a country to realize all people are created equal. I am horrified by the fact that too often we spew hatred to those different than us as if somehow we are better.

Instead of constantly trying to tear people down why not try to build them up? Instead of saying Jenner isn't a hero because she isn't a soldier, cop, or fireperson why not realize that one does not take away from the other. Saying Jenner is a hero does not take away from the soldiers who risk their lives to protect others. Saying Jenner is a hero does not take away from the cops who save children from violent situations or the firemen/women who save people.

My writing this blog does not take away from the millions of impressive writing by others.

I tell my kids all the time that just because their sibling does well does not mean they did badly. My daughter's running accomplishments are not diminished because her sister is faster. My daughter's hard earned B in math is no less important because her sister breezed through for yet another A. We are different and that's okay but we shouldn't be using those differences to tear each other apart.

Spouting about how Jenner isn't a hero just makes you a shmuck because you are trying to diminish another person's accomplishments. Yes, I said accomplishment because that is exactly what it is. It is an accomplishment that is a beacon of hope to all those struggling with accepting who and what they are while working up the courage to step out and say, "This is me".

A Constant Work in Progress

2015-06-01T11:56:00.000-04:00

I am not one who spends all my time or money giving to those who are less fortunate. I don't have a charity I prefer and I am not constantly doing things for other people.  This is not to say I don't try to help my fellow human or that I'm not willing to help others. I do what I can and often times I know it isn't enough.

I have no ideas of gradeur. Long gone are the days that I dreamt of writing books or changing the world. I'm happy to simply exist in it and do what I can with the time I have.

I am not a perfect parent. In fact most days I feel like a complete failure as a parent. I am not always calm with my kids which has only taught them impatience. I scream which I know is horrible and I curse. These aren't things I'm proud of but I also think that all in all my kids will turn out okay even with these flaws. I would rather have my kids know I'm flawed and see me own my mistakes than pretending I have it all together and figured out.

I am a work in progress. I've been this way since birth and I expect it to continue until I die. I have plenty of areas in my life that are lacking and others that are overflowing. There is no one title or job that defines me. I am called by a name in which I have spent most of my life disliking although I am stubborn enough that I will never change it. I am a complexity of things as are all of us.

I used to think of my childhood as something to overcome. It was this horable series of events that kept me from accomplishing all I was capable of while giving me an excuse as to why other things didn't work out the way I wished. I learned to live as if at any moment the other shoe would drop and often it did. It was dramatic, it was hell, and it was perfect.

With plenty of therapy to help me navigate my way and a husband who loves me beyond all understanding I feel that while it wasn't an ideal childhood it was the one I was meant to have and it allowed me to become the person I am today. I'm grateful for it even if along the way it has cost me a relationship with my father and his family.

None of it is easily explained. It can't be filed into a cabinet and doesn't allow for a lifetime of mistakes. It will always be part of me but it doesn't have to define me or control me.

I am a child of divorce. My parents were high school sweethearts who married too young with a list of issues themselves that became more than they could survive together. My dad cheated for whatever reason he had and the marriage colapsed. That didn't make it impossible for me to accept love or make me believe marriage is evil.

I am a survivor of sexual abuse. I was molested by my stepbrother who had a whole list of issues himself. It was horrible and it took me a long time to come to terms with it but I did. It may have cost me a relationship with my dad but I don't blame him for it or hold any animosity. I wish it hadn't happened and I have no desire to ever see that person again but it didn't ruin my life. It will always be something that I live with but it doesn't control me. My dad wasn't equipped with how to respond or what to do once he found out and I truly believe it hurt him too, he just didn't know what to do in response. I know my dad loves me even if he doesn't know how to show it.

I grew up with an abusive alcoholic stepfather. My mother picked a hell of a guy for her second marriage and somehow through all the insanity they make it work. I have little desire to spend time with this man but again he has his own issues and I believe he is sorry. He does well with my kids when they see him. I sometimes have to stand my ground over things but all in all he tries with my kids and he's good to them. This didn't ruin my life either. It has cost me years with my mother but we have both grown and hopefully come out the other side better, stronger people.

My point, life is hard. Shit happens. A lot of crazy awful things can happen to us and it can be hell. However, it doesn't have to hold us captive. It doesn't have to paralyse our lives. Sure it will take time to deal with and some of it is so bad it will take everything we have to overcome, but you can, if you work at it and want to. You have to be willing to forgive and accept people for who they are and where they are in their lives. We don't all reach the finish line together so we will meet others struggling along the way and you won't be able to help them all. You may not be able to help any of them. It may take everything you have to just help yourself. That's okay.

You may feel so angry for a period of your life that you can't see the good anywhere. Work through it, you can come out the other side. All the anger may never leave but you can learn to recogize it and keep it from poisioning your whole life. The same goes for sadness.

I don't have it figured out. I hope one day life punches me in the face forcing my dad and I to deal. It will suck and it may not be pretty. It may not even end the way I want it to but hopefully before he or I die we can come together and forgive each other. Hopefully we can get closure. Hopefully I can get that with most of his family too.

I worry about my kids. Each of them so different with a world of joy and pain awaiting them well beyond their childhood. I've said it often that it's better to be me that sends them needing therapy than someone else. It's a sort of joke but I'd rather be here and be the reason they need guidance once an adult than to miss out on them. They will know I love them and that I'm not going anywhere.  Good or bad I'm in it for the long haul with them.

My goal: Be better tomorrow than I am today

I'm sure to fail a million times and I'm okay with that.  I want to be more like my sister-in-law who would give the shirt off her back to help someone. Who with struggles of her own finds ways to be kind and helpful to those around her. She fights for the world she wants all the while knowing she will also come up short.  She doesn't let it stop her.

So today channeling a little of her I stopped and gave the lunch I had just bought to a man offering to work for food. He may not have needed it. He might have been hoping for money over the food to use for any number of things but I did what I could with what I had expecting nothing in return. I put a little good into the world for no other reason that I could.

Don't be alarmed I'm sure to be a failure before bedtime. It's almost certain that I will loose my patience with my boys before bed and either scream or curse. I'm sure to think something nasty about someone I know out of frustration or the belief I know better than they. I'm bound to offend someone with my disbelief in god or fail in all kinds of other way because after all...I'm a constant work in progress.

Too Much Too Fast

2012-03-06T17:40:00.002-05:00

The internet, computers, cell phones all help us stay connected and informed. However, I'm noticing a trend that scares me and causes concern for my kids as well as my nieces and nephews.

In the past several days, weeks, and months I've noticed a lot of inappropriate behavior through twitter and facebook. These preteens and teens are outright slanderous. The fowl language and hatred spewed made me glad I closely watch my kids internet time.

When I was in school we weren't as connected as everyone now seems to be. Instant messaging was just becoming popular but I don't remember hearing of people harassing each other the way kids do today.

These kids seem to have unlimited and unsupervised access to the internet. The amount of preteen and teenage cursing and slander is staggering. I fully understand the teenage need to express themselves and have a voice yet there seems to be something that becomes more and more lacking as the generations continue...

Respect. I grew up at a time that if I sassed my mother or grandmother I knew I was getting a smack to the mouth. I had very defined boundaries. If you were going to bad mouth your parents, school, or friends you did so in the comfort of those you trusted with such information, not plastered all over a website.

I suppose I'm showing my age here to some degree yet I can't help but think we are doing our kids a disservice if we aren't supervising some of this internet access. I also think kids get cellphones WAY to early.

It has been said that as our children grow they become less and less ours and thus we loose more and more ability to shape, steer, and impact their choices. Allow me to call BS if you will...to some degree.

Erin & Ireland love getting online and finding games to play. They also seem to have a fondness for youtube. Sean and I have created their own access so they can only access certain sites. Granted that only works if we remember to sign out. On such an occasion they went online and began searching youtube.

Let's say I had a very quick education on youtube. It was certainly not something my kids needed to be searching. Right along with kid aproprate silly videos are ones involving sexual content and vulgar, fowl language.

My girls are only 8 and while they have grown up in a generation that is computer literate at 2 the thought of what they can see with unlimited access to the world wide web has me crawling the wall.

I'm a tough parent in some ways. My kids won't have cell phones until I see a clear need (which will be in high school) and even then I wouldn't allow internet access of the phone. I won't allow my kids to have a tv in their bedroom. They won't have a computer of any kind in their rooms until they can prove they are responsible. As with all of these things responsibility is key.

However, I'm not blinded by my kids. They will mess up, make a bad choice, get caught up in a moment. They will find themselves in trouble probably in using all of those things I am so afraid to give them. In those moments are lessons. Those are the moments that can be dealt with more easily if we do the work while they are young. Keep the doors of communication open and allow our kids to see how much we do love them.

The harder part in this... There will be moments that we parents are wrong, utterly and completely wrong. We will be the one needing to open our ears and hearts and hear our children. Step beyond what we think we know and allow for some understanding both ways.

If we don't do the work while they are young, it makes the process harder as they age. We easily become the constant enemy and sometimes making excuses for our kids. We can find ourselves saying, "but it was just an accident they didn't mean to do it" or "they are only acting this way because of something I did so I can't tighten the boundaries".

If we find ourselves not urging and teaching our kids to make good choices and help them understand the bad ones when they happen we teach them a false sense of entitlement and a lack of respect.

I'm learning that as my kids age I worry more and more. I am transitioning into the area of parenting where the actual parenting gets more and more important. Today boys, tomorrow make up and clothing, then the internet, sex and heartbreak. It's all in there and more, however it is up to us parents to listen and be prepared to talk. No topic off the table and an environment that nurtures these growing children into responsible critical thinking teens and eventually adults.

I sure hope these 4 loud and crazy kiddos and I survive. I see lots of curves ahead.

how quickly they grow

2012-02-25T11:19:00.004-05:00

It's finally happened. My girls have discovered boys. We have talks about boyfriends, kissing, holding hands, and who likes who. I knew it was coming but I honestly hoped I had a couple more years before it began.

Ireland now has a boyfriend and I have found all the sweet notes in which she has filled the spaces with her expression of love for this little boy. He has called the house and invited her to come to his basketball games and she came home with a nice box of chocolates on Valentine's Day, not to mention a sweet heart necklace she wears constantly.

She has definitely been bitten by the love bug and while I know it is the sweet innocent type of love that should be easy and worry free for parents. Well, most parents. I on the other hand am flooded with desire to have many age appropriate conversations about behavior since love has entered the air.

I realize my over reacting is from my childhood experiences and I want to save her from any possible harm. I had the sweetest childhood boyfriend for most of my elementary school experience. I was lucky and still count his mother and himself some of the sweetest people I know. But while he was sweet there were others during that time that were not.

I am torn between wanting to keep my little girls as innocent and free as possible and wanting them to have enough knowledge to protect themselves if needed. I don't want them feeling as I did in that they couldn't speak up or fight back. I want with all that I am to protect them from ever feeling that kind of pain.

I realize I am projecting and while I want to save them from all evils I will be unable to do so every time. I must continue to keep the lines of communication open and constantly reassure that regardless of what happens good or bad I will always be there for my girls, for my children. I want them to know my love for them is unconditional and I want them to feel safe to talk freely.

If I can't keep them talking what chance do I have to guide them along the way? If they don't trust me with their successes and fears how will they trust they can come to me with their disappointments?

Life is full of unpleasant occurrences. It is full of ups and downs and they will undoubtably get hurt along the way just as they will have those moments of pure happiness and jubilation. I can't protect them from the world because by trying to do so I rob them of the wonderment of the world.

I know that the toughest years are still ahead of us. I know without a doubt there will be tears shed both in joy and in sorrow by us all. I have a heavy heart when I think of these years ahead. It is during those years my children will begin to make their own decisions. They will realize that at the end of the day they choose the path they walk.

I can guide and offer advice, but I will be unable to make the decisions for them. I will have to trust that I taught them well and empowered them to trust in themselves. I want them to always remain open to the wonders of the world, to love wholeheartedly, have the strength to tackle any challenge and understand that no matter the situation I will always love them and do what I can to comfort and help.

Today is innocent. One daughter with a boyfriend and another who at this point wants to remain alone for all her life. I honestly don't know which is scarier to me, but I'm grateful that my girls are only 8 and there are many more years ahead of them to truly come to understand themselves and what they want out of life.

Here's hoping they will be unafraid to follow their heart and are spared many of life's scary moments. After all, they will only be mine for a short while, but they must be able to live with themselves every day, hopefully knowing that their parents love them entirely.

the passing of time

2011-12-18T09:15:00.003-05:00

Each year on December 18 I am reminded about how much of my life has passed and how much my grandmother has missed. Growing up my grandmother was my savior amongst my family. She was my safe place. She was often the only thing that made any sense in my life.

She left this world 1 week before Christmas and the day after my 15th birthday. We said our final goodbye 4 days before Christmas, on a Saturday.

There are times in which we take what may seem ordinary and allow it to mean something more. Each Saturday for several years before she left us was spent helping her clean her house, taking her shopping, and just being with her. Every Saturday, just like clock work, we visited and did what we could to help.

That final Saturday I said goodbye to a woman who was my best friend.

I watched this woman go from being able to race me to the mailbox as a young child to a person who spent most of her days having dialysis and visiting any number of doctors. She had a fighter's spirit. She had already survived cancer that should have killed her. It was the treatment for that cancer that led to so many other health issues, and what eventually killed her.

I never heard her complain the times I sat with her in the hospital or during dialysis. The only thing I remember her ever saying about any of it was that she felt she was being punished.

I could never understand why she felt that way, I couldn't imagine this woman doing anything to be punished for yet she was very religious and in her mind it had more meaning.

I owe my "country" upbringing to her. She would show, teach, involve me in almost anything that she had to do. I helped build fences, I helped move cattle, I helped put up hay, I picked lots of fruit, I helped cook, and a few times she even took me with her when she hunted.

She was the best of both worlds in my opinion. She was womanly and yet never afraid of getting dirty to get something accomplished. She wore dresses each day but when farm work called she simply put a pair of jeans on under her dress and went about her tasks. She loved jewelry, perfume, and fixing her hair.

She was stern but very kind. She had a clear definition of right and wrong and wasn't afraid to redirect my actions with a fly swatter to the behind. One day out of fear of the smack I ran out and around the house. Without a moments hesitation she was out the door chasing after me. I don't remember getting punished but I clearly remember her chasing after me.

She, even sick, would venture out to support my basketball playing or achievements in education. She had the profound ability to "show up" which was something that was missing in many parts of my life. I was always overjoyed to see her, never embarrassed. I wanted to spend each day with her and would look for excuses to stay with her.

She was a true matriarch who managed to get all of us together several times throughout the year. Each year her 3 children and their families would pack ourselves in her small livingroom and share Christmas Eve. It is one of my most cherished memories. The 14 of us would exchange gifts, laugh, eat, and act as if there was no where else to be.

She would read the Christmas story from the bible and my uncles would encourage us kids about hearing Santa's sleigh. We left that house knowing we were loved and wanted.

I'm sad to say we don't do that anymore, haven't since she left us. She had been the glue that bound us all together. She was the reason we were able to work through disagreements and put aside our anger and make sure we showed up...we showed up for her.

I have as of today lived half of my life without her. I have graduated high school, college, gotten married, and had 4 children in these past 15 years, all without her being there. If I think about it too long I am overwhelmed that life has just continued without her. I will forever be saddened by the fact my husband and children never knew her. I've lost the sound of her voice, her smell, and have been unable to find a single picture of just she and I.

It often feels that as the years have passed her ability to exist in my memories has faded. My fear is that with the passing of this time I will forget her and so each year I find myself clinging to the memories shared with her, both good and bad.

I only hope is that as my children grow up they can know of her and what she meant to me. That I do well to pass along the wisdom she imparted, her kindness, and her ability to have an opinion that wasn't always popular and remain unafraid to speak her mind.

Today is always in some way a very sad day but I'm very relieved to know she is no longer suffering, that she is finally at peace and no more need to be so strong just to survive.

I guess it's very simple. I loved my grandmother very much and now she's gone which is very sad, but I will never forget how she treated and loved me. She remains an example of love and care and I miss her.

In memory...

2011-12-05T20:00:00.003-05:00

Today is my Aunt Frances' birthday. My earliest memory of her was when I was 5. She was one of my kindergarden teachers so I was rather confused if I was to call her Mrs. Reed or Aunt Frances during school. One day, while playing at her house we had a discussion about my confusion. I remember her laughing and saying she would always be my aunt but maybe during class it would be better to call her Mrs. Reed. I still remember that laugh even now.

Another thing I loved about my Aunt was her ability to sing. She shined during those moments. I remember attending church the days she would sing and I would beam with pride because she was my family, I had the privilege of calling her Aunt.

She was one of the toughest people I've ever met and she had no problem sharing what she thought. She shined so brightly and left us all too soon.

I didn't know her as well as so many other friends and family. But, I loved her dearly and miss her terribly. In honor of my Aunt's courageous fight I bring you a blog from Heather . You can visit her blog by clicking on her name.

She is a wife, mother, and a courageous survivor of mesothelioma cancer. She also agreed to allow me to post a guest blog from her. So please take a moment and meet Heather and check out her blog.

Sometimes healing moments come when we least expect them. They can just fall into our laps and help us cope with difficulties and the loss of loved ones. Thank you Heather for sharing your story and I send you health, hope, and happiness.

Happy birthday Aunt Frances. I love you, I miss you, and I hope you're still laughing and singing.

"It takes a village"

When you have a baby, many times you hear the phrase, “It takes a village to raise a child.” Over the years, I have come to realize how true that really is. My story brings home the point that parenting is not meant to be done in a vacuum. Everyone talks about being “strong, independent women,” but sometimes, being strong and independent means realizing when you have to call in help, that you can’t always be everything and do everything for your child. I never thought I would have to lean so heavily on those around me. But I am ever thankful that through my struggles, I had that village surrounding me, embracing me and my child, and doing for her what I could not do myself.

I’ve always been a strong and independent woman. Before my baby was born, I was a part owner of a large, successful salon company and personally ran one of the three salons in the business. In addition to working behind a chair myself, I managed over twenty employees. I was healthy, energetic, and active.

This was my life, up until the day I gave birth to my baby girl, Lily. She was born August 4, 2005. Since my pregnancy was so uneventful, I expected to pop back into my old routine without a problem. I returned to work a few weeks after Lily’s birth.

However, within a month of my return, I was constantly tired and breathless, and began losing weight. I figured this was normal, since most new mothers feel exhausted and lose weight. But soon my weight loss reached an extreme level. I was losing an astonishing five to seven pounds a week.

After some medical tests, I learned that I had fluid around my lung. After more tests, to my utter and complete shock, I was diagnosed with a cancer called mesothelioma, caused by asbestos exposure in my childhood. This diagnosis came November 21, 2005 when my daughter was only three and a half months old.

My first thought was for my daughter. Would she miss out on having a mother? Would my husband have to raise her without me? Would there always be a big hole in her life where I used to be? I knew then that I was going to have to do whatever was necessary to beat this diagnosis.

I flew to Boston where I had an extrapleural pneumenectomy, a surgery that removed my left lung, all the surrounding tissue, lymph nodes, diaphragm on the left side, the lining of my heart and one of my ribs. I also had a heated chemotherapy wash to further eradicate any cancer. Two and a half months after my surgery, I began chemotherapy and radiation.

During those early months of my baby’s life, I began to see the blessing of the “village.” My parents in their South Dakota home cared for my daughter while I was fighting cancer across the country. People I had known as a teen offered their support and time to assist my mom and dad who were juggling their jobs and “parenting” their brand new granddaughter. The “village” loved me from afar by feeding my baby and loving her while I was in distant Boston struggling for my life. My only glimpses of how she was growing and changing were grainy pictures e-mailed from my mom to us while we were at the hospital. Missing my daughter was heart wrenching. But I knew that she was in the best hands possible.

Those difficult days changed our whole family. My health keeps me from going back to work, but that is okay. It’s really not that important to me anymore. What is important is family, love, generosity, kindness, and the one constant in it that makes it all work: our faith. Through those hard times we never lost our faith in God and always believed that everything would work out for the best.

Looking back, I can see that my struggle boiled down our lives to the essentials. Because of my struggle, I am raising Lily to value those essentials, and she is growing up to be a valuable part of that “village.”

Lily is six years old now and is growing up to be such a compassionate, caring girl. It warms my heart when I see her willing to donate her old clothes and toys to those in need. She really amazes me. I think that because of everything Lily went through early on in her life, and everyone she depended on to help her and our family, she realizes the need to be kind and has a true sense of the good that helping others can do. Even if she was only an infant at the time of my diagnosis, Lily was affected in ways that have shaped the person she is today. She is my quirky, loving little six year old and she is the reason I am still here today.

Despite the struggle that cancer has brought to my life, I am thankful, for even through my illness, I have found blessings, love, and perspective.

journey of thanks

2011-11-14T17:06:00.011-05:00

As Thanksgiving approaches I find myself both saddened and overjoyed. This year more than any other has a complex set of emotions attached. It is a year of firsts in many ways.

This year, the day before Thanksgiving, will mark 30 years of the passing of someone I never met yet have always felt a kinship to. My grandfather died less than a month before I was born. I never had the chance to get one of his hugs, or hear him play his organ, or even know very much about him...until this year.

As a child the only thing I had was his obituary that had been placed in my baby book. I removed it from the book and kept it instead in my nightstand. It is still something that to this day stays in my nightstand. It has always served as a connection to someone I wish I had known and have loved always.

When things in my life became difficult that piece of paper became something I would reach for in the hopes it would be enough to help make sense of things. It became more than just a piece of paper.

It's difficult to find yourself longing for a connection with someone who is no longer alive. Through my youth I tried many times to find out more about this man with no success. I quickly learned that his passing was a very sad subject and something I shouldn't bring up. Granted when anyone looses their father at a mere 51 years of age it would be hard not to be saddened by the realization of all that has been missed.

Each year during the month of November I think of him and when possible make a trip to the cemetery to pay my respects to someone I don't know. I cry every time I go there. I cry now as I write this. I held on to this man so much as a child that it seems impossible that I never knew him. I'm beginning to learn about my grandfather because of one of his daughters, my aunt.

This year I have found myself with family I never thought I would have or that would mean so much to me. My family finds itself in a position it has never been before. It has been a year of new beginnings and a parting with the past.

For the first time in my almost 30 years of life I find myself with parental figures who I could ask any question and get an answer. People who have shown me what love from a parent should look like and what it means to "show up" for someone and what life can be like without unnecessary drama.

They have truly saved my life this year. They have added meaning to my life, helped fill a void I never thought was possible, and no matter how dark or dreary the day they are there waiting, willing, wanting to help, comfort, and love not only myself but my husband and children as well. They have accepted us with open arms and keep asking for more.

Yes, I question their sanity from time to time because of all this but each time I am met with nothing but love and acceptance. I even fight against this love and acceptance sometimes. Even then I am met with more love and acceptance.

This year I won't make that walk in the cemetery alone. This year I won't cry alone or feel the loss alone. And while the feelings will be ones of sadness I find myself even more grateful to Grandpap. For he has helped shape his daughter into someone I hold very dear, someone I wouldn't want to go a day without talking to, and someone who is willing to put up with a lot of crap and continue showing up. He helped bring us together. He helped make us family in every sense of the word.

This year as my children, husband, and I create new traditions for the holidays I find myself very grateful for those I call family. I'm thankful to all of them because they have helped me get to where I am today. They have allowed for growth and an understanding of what I want and don't want in life. They have taught me to accept the good and deal with the bad.

Life is a journey, one we don't take alone...even when we try.

This year more than any other I'm thankful for my children and my husband who put up with my craziness whether they wish to or not...and love me in spite of it. I'm thankful for the acceptance, guidance, and love from my aunt and uncle who are much more than an aunt and uncle.

To Sean, Erin, Ireland, Michael, Conor, Paula, Howard & the rest of my family: Thanks for helping me make the most of the good and the least of the bad, even when you didn't know you were doing so.

Have a wonderful holiday and enjoy your family...even the bad apples. They help us recognize and enjoy the good ones.

Making the most of the good...

2011-11-03T11:53:00.003-04:00

In the last several months I have begun to miss this blog. Miss the time spent thinking of my children and my parenting. I miss the time I would take to look a little deeper and write about something that had meaning to me.

I'd like to say that in my absence things have increasingly gotten easier with parenting. That would be a lie. Being a parent of twins is trying, but a parent of 4 can be maddening.

Someone is always upset with another. One is always jealous of another. Everyone needs and deserves attention. Everyone is facing a challenge all their own. Yet, with four of them and only one of me those special moments of undivided attention are far and few between.

With the insight of a very dear person I came to realize that if I wanted my parenting to get better I was going to need to "build us up" and spend the extra energy to make sure even when the day was difficult those four amazing lives felt loved, and knew that no matter what would happen I would always be there for them.

It isn't easy admitting that you fall short of the expectations of yourself. There's always that pressure to be perfect. Your kids must be given just the right thing, what is socially acceptable at the moment. No more jars of baby food, good mothers make their own. No more regular diapers, good mothers use something that is "green" and Earth friendly. No more easy dinners, good mothers make sure their kids are getting all the veggies and nutrients they need. The list is endless.

Just so we are clear, by these definitions I'm a terrible mother. I never made my kids baby food, I have never used a "green" diaper, and I have been known to allow my kids to have ice-cream for dinner.

If I look at my parenting from the vantage point of this "perfect" mother I would spend lots of time punishing myself for not being perfect and as I'm trying to learn perfection is impossible.

Perfection, it's such a tricky word. Practice makes perfect...I think I heard it 1000 times growing up. I'm sure most of you are familiar with the phrase, too. We grow up thinking perfection is the goal. It isn't a goal, it isn't even realistic.

The new goal for not only myself but my children as well, is to make the most of the good and the least of the bad. This isn't easy either, but I believe it is a better destination. If worked towards it helps allow my children the opportunity to be optimists. Which is something I have never been.

I want them to see things positively, believe in miracles, and instead of instantly going to worst case scenario be able to see the good in something. I don't want them to be me. I don't want to color their view of the world to the point they've lost before they've even started.

I want my children to be able to dust themselves off after facing something bad, something difficult, and walk away feeling stronger because of it...not defeated.

I'm not entirely sure how we will reach this goal as even my humor tends to be pessimistic. However, they deserve the chance to embrace all that is possible, so I must dig deep and make sure I'm not the one holding them back.

It won't be easy, and at times it may be down right miserable (for me) but sometimes you have to be able to laugh at pain, at difficulties, and know that survival is possible.

After all, it isn't about seeing the glass half empty or full...it's about realizing that you've been given the glass in the first place. How you decide to fill it will be the story of your life.

7 years

2010-07-19T00:43:00.005-04:00

My girls turned 7 on the 17th. Hard to believe it's been that long...but then again some days it feels like it should have been 10.

You see people don't tell you parenting can suck at times, that your children aren't always going to be this unblemished ball of perfection. You aren't prepared for those moments when your children bring to your attention that you aren't the parent you set out to be. You are never ready to hear "I hate you" or "I wish I didn't live here". But they happen.

I'm not the parent I thought I would be. It would seem that some of that behavior I loathed as a child stuck with me. I sometimes yell at my kids, have to leave the room cursing, and there are days when I just don't want to be home with them.

Now please before you think I've jumped off the deep end hear me out. Admit it, there are days when you just don't want to be a parent. You can even go stretches of years in which you are in love with parenting and in love with your kids and then there are times when you just want to shake them and ask what is going on in that brain of theirs.

There are moments in which I don't like my kids very much because of something they have said or done. BUT...even when I don't like them I love them beyond measure.

It's such a tricky road we walk with our kids. We battle each day to help them become the best possible adult they can be and yet we pass along our bad habits, our outlooks, our craziness when we aren't even looking.

For the past several months, maybe even a year, my girls have been pushing the limits of my sanity. Each day seems to be a battle of wills. Hopefully, this fight is one I'm still winning. Although, some days they clearly have me waving the white flag.

The week leading up to my girls birthday they had been so disrespectful and so unwilling to listen that I felt I had no option but to begin removing toys and anything special from their room/lives. First it was Barbie, then dolls, then dress up clothes, followed by anything that was left. This series of bad events ended with tears on my behalf because I had no other option than to remove their books. And if you know me at all I love books and so desperately wish to pass this on to my children.

Suddenly my girls were without any toys or books to keep them busy. There was no tv, no video game to occupy their time. They could play outside, sit on their bed, or work on summer workbooks.

This might just be working. After several days without all those toys they had their birthday and received many great gifts from friends and family in which I have permitted them to keep in their room. They were informed that their behavior was what would determine if they would continue to have those toys.

So far, things seem to be looking up. Which is very welcomed.

The day those girls were born my life changed. At exactly 1:40pm on Thursday July 17, 2003 I knew what it was like to love beyond measure. Then I was privileged to experience that exact same feeling a mere 2 minutes later. It was the most amazing thing.

I've said it several times. My girls pay the biggest price being my oldest. They must live through my learning curve as a parent. But, maybe...just maybe they will come out of it the best possible adults they can be.

So with another year in the books as a mother of twins I feel the need to celebrate, cry, and hug them even tighter. The road ahead is very rocky but I wouldn't miss it for anything. They gave me the privilege of being a mother, I owe them the work of being a good parent.

Happy birthday Erin Paige & Ireland Grace!!! Momma loves you!!!

needed

2010-04-27T22:52:00.003-04:00

I've abandoned my writing...as always it becomes the first thing I fling to the side once life goes speeding down the stairs. The problem with this is that it's one of the things that help me remain centered, mindful, and peaceful.

All of which I currently need.

Have you ever had a thousands questions thumping your brain? Incessantly banging and bringing no answers. It's driving me crazy at the moment.

I spent much of my childhood filled with drama of one kind or another. The drama was never ending and if life did grant me a reprieval I would begin to freak knowing the next event was just moments away. I found myself unable to function without the drama....I expected it, demanded it.

Then, one day I grew tired. I wanted peace, space, quiet.

While my married life has not been drama free the majority of it is calm and easy going. If that is possible with four kids.

Lately, the drama has weaseled its way into my life and has begun to strangle the very air I attempt to breathe.

So I find myself desiring a return to my center. A need to write, even the simplest of words. I need to recognize that even in the smallest amount this is my me time, my attempt to care for myself. So...let the writing begin. I hope.

what message are our children really getting?

2009-12-03T12:53:00.004-05:00

A couple days ago my 6 year old (Ireland) walks downstairs obviously upset and begins to protest what she is wearing. Getting her dressed in the mornings has always been a power struggle but today she was overly moody.

So my daughter looks at me and says, "but I hate this I am so fat". Now, my baby girl has never been fat a day in her life. She was only 5lbs and 11 oz. the day she was born.

While I am no longer a size zero I am not the type to go around talking about how fat I am or how unhappy I am with the way I look. I've always thought of it as a work in progress. At times the process may be rather slow but all the same I know I'm in charge.

To hear those words out of my daughter's mouth floored me. I looked at Sean who was looking at me and we immediately tried to find out why she was saying this. We pointed out how unfat she was and that what was important was to be healthy... eat healthy and to exercise. To which for the most part she does.

I mean this kid has stomach muscles that would make women in their 20's jealous. So this made me start wondering exactly where was my 6 year old getting this information. Why would she say this?

I have become increasingly upset with television because of the hidden comments in cartoons and the type of commercials that play during children's programing. Not to mention that some of the toys targeted towards girls are terrible. Take the Brat dolls for example. They wear very little clothing and carry around an even more upsetting attitude. For this reason they have been banned from my home.

Also, you shouldn't have a kids movie playing that will be filled with commercials about sexual lubricant or the latest horror film. Maybe this is just another sign that I am old, but I find it rather frightening how quickly we are forcing our children to grow up.

I hear about parents that allow their very young children to watch adult shows such as Dexter or movies such as Saw and then wonder why their children have anger issues or are depressed and scared.

Maybe it's time we parents took a step back and reminded ourselves that childhood may only last a short while but the impact during this time lasts the rest of their lives. Not only do we have to worry about what they watch but also how those commercials and toys shape our children's vision of the world.

It's a daily battle, one I know I don't always fight. However, I am hopeful that I can make good decisions for my children that will keep them healthy, safe, and allow them to enjoy their short childhood.

So what do you other parents or soon-to-be parents think? Should we think more about the television and toys we allow our children to be exposed to or is that being too protective?

filling in the missing branch

2009-11-19T09:37:00.003-05:00

My girls tend to ask a lot of questions...a lot! They aren't all those annoying silly questions either. Some are very important questions about their family. They want to know why someone wanted to get married, why someone moves, even why one gets to see and talk to their godparents more than the other.

Occasionally the questions get rather difficult. "You know that man with the cows and the dog and cat? Why don't we see him? Why doesn't he call or visit us?

And while I'm never sure how to answer these questions because you can't tell a child that said person just doesn't make any effort to see them. One, they wouldn't understand and two, it could upset and hurt their feelings if they somehow did understand.

So I do my best to sidestep the answers and divert their attention to something else. However, I've come to realize how this can be damaging in it's own way.

Like my children I used to ask my dad lots of questions about his family. Like me, my dad never answered the questions. I asked about his dad and he would almost totally ignore my questions or reply with, "why are you asking me this?" to which he would then become busy and unable to talk.

When he would talk about family visiting he would talk to me like I had a clue about what was going on. Honestly, I don't know who anyone is in his family besides his mother, and his siblings...and even his brother I don't really know. I think I could count on my fingers the number of times I've seen him.

So I've made a decision. I may not truly know my father or his extended family, but that doesn't mean my children should grow up knowing nothing about them. The tricky part comes when they ask to see thier grandfather, which at this point wouldn't happen but they deserve to know who their family is and where they come from.

Given this new direction I opened an account with ancestry.com last night. Within minutes I had my mother's side of the family traced beyond my great-great grandparents. Granted it helped that I knew my great grandparents names, birthdays, and death dates...along with their children and their dates.

My dad's side, well that is proving to be a little difficult. The only information I had to go on was my grandfather's obituary which provided no birth date, no information on his wife, and only a state for his birth place.

I was able to find information about his parents but that caused more trouble. I was importing information that I wasn't very sure was correct. I was flying blind.

So I reached out to my aunt who is willing to help me fill in some gaps which might allow me to at least be able to tell my children the names of my dad's family. I may not have stories about them to share as I do for my mom's family but at least I can give them something. My search continues, and hopefully it will lead to some small revelations along the way. If nothing else it's an adventure.

my friend, shall we play doctor

2009-11-13T15:11:00.007-05:00

It's midnight and you are awoken by a sick 7 month old. You find that your baby has a 102 fever and has green drainage coming from both eyes. Your cell phone has the pediatricians cell phone number. Do you use it?? What if the doctor was also a friend?

I hear stories all the time about parents calling on the doctor the minute anything goes wrong with their child and while this is understandable with first time parents it must become a difficult situation for the doctor, especially if that doctor is also a family friend.

We moved back to WV because it was an area we knew. Our children would be taught by teachers we knew and trusted, and thus came the possibility of having friends also be your doctor...your children's doctor.

Since living here I have had two different doctors, both of which I consider a friend, give me their personal cell phone number to use in case something came up.

I have also had phone calls from others requesting this information so that they could call upon these doctors late in the evening.

However, I have a strict policy. If it's an emergency, I go to the emergency room. If the ER is not necessary, I call the doctors office and go through the proper channels to have my children or myself seen and treated. And more importantly, I never give out a private number unless advised that it's okay to do so.

Trust me, there has been more than one time in which I wanted to use those numbers because it would have made things easier. But I reminded myself that these people are more than doctors, they are wives, husbands, mothers, fathers, and friends. If every patient that they had called each time they had a question or concern I don't think they would get much family time.

Now I know that each family is different and each doctor is different. There are doctors that welcome this intrusion, expect it. I guess it's possible they all do. My kids doctor even said, "that's part of why I'm a doctor, I know it will happen".

For me, I just believe there is a fine line that can easily be crossed when your friend is also your doctor...and I would rather do what I can to respect each relationship and attempt to keep from crossing a line in which my friend is bothered by my phone calls or visits.

What do you think? Is calling your friend/doctor any different than calling a fellow mom for advice? Has there ever been a situation in which your doctor or your kids doctor called for parenting advice?

growing isn't just for children

2009-10-02T15:52:00.005-04:00

Yesterday I'm laying on a table in PT with heat on my back when that little song begins to play over the speakers. Upon hearing such a sound anyone who has spent any time in the hospital knows a sweet little life has entered the world.

Up until now that sound was so sweet and full of promise. Granted, it still is...I'm just sad because no longer will I be found on the opposite end. Go ahead, gasp, you know you want to.

Why on earth would a busy mother of 4 desire any more children knowing full well she has her hands full? Just to clarify, I'm content with my 4. It's just sad to think that I will never again touch my belly noticing the sweet movements within that indicate a miracle is approaching.

I know I'm privileged. I've had 3 healthy pregnancies. Each may have provided a couple of hiccups that allowed for discomfort but all my children were healthy beautiful babies and momma was in the hands of skilled professionals. All was well in baby land.

When I gave birth to my first son I knew immediately that I would want to try for one more. While also knowing before I gave birth to Conor that he would be my last. At the time I didn't think much of that decision other than it was the right decision for my family and I. I wasn't prepared for the emptiness that has followed.

Upon getting married I was pregnant before the year was out with twins no less. Since that moment I have been more mother than anything else. Each day began with children and usually ended as such. For the past 7 years I have either been pregnant or caring for children as my main profession.

Conor however seems to be on a mission to remind me that my baby days are numbered and sooner rather than later I will be in need of other day to day activities. I'm trying very hard to hold on to every moment with Conor, but with every moment I'm also reminded that this too shall pass.

And while I know that growth and change are good for my kids I would gladly freeze time to squeeze just a couple extra years at the current stages. The thought of the girls becoming teenagers, the thought of Michael becoming a child rather than my toddler, the thought of Conor continuing his quest for movement seems to be bringing more and more tears to my eyes.

There is a parenting philosophy that shares that at the end of parenting it isn't only the child that is transformed but the parent as well. So onward I travel since I have no other choice. I guess the saying is true,

"It kills you to see them grow up. But I guess it would kill you quicker if they didn't".

whirlwind of 4

2009-09-23T21:40:00.004-04:00

So much seems to be happening in my household. With 4 little ones running around someone is always needing something or needing to go somewhere. There is barely enough time to shower and brush my teeth on a daily basis.

Currently, the girls are extra busy with soccer and school. Reading has become much easier for Ireland while Erin continues to excel. Soccer is a hit or miss as far as how excited the girls are to play.

Ireland seems to have a natural talent for it but too often seems to be unprepared for the physical contact. Granted I suppose she does have some reason to complain as with each practice she seems to take a ball from midfield to the abdomen. That combined with a boy who seems to think that pushing and shoving girls to the ground is fun I can see how some days she would rather cry than deal.

Erin tries with soccer but would much rather be elsewhere. She wants to try tennis but I think we might have to wait a while on that one. I'm caught between being the supportive mom who lets them explore and keeping my sanity through simplifying the schedule as much as possible.

Michael continues to make us all smile while pulling at our heartstrings. He is still adjusting to daycare as drop offs in the morning are full of tears and pleas. Usually I leave him crying as I begin to cry myself. I know he has fun once I've left but leaving him is so difficult.

And Conor....oh Conor. My baby, what am I going to do with you? The moment he was placed in my arms he seemed to already know what he wanted. He seems the be the happiest and most well adjusted of us all. He also seems to be on a mission to prove he isn't just the "baby".

Tomorrow he will be a mere 6 months old and already he is crawling, sitting up, and attempting to pull himself up. I so wanted him to stay small.

Knowing he would be my last I wanted to bottle as much "baby" time as I could. Soak it in and make memories that would help me make it through the coming years.

Once again I'm reminded that my children are only mine for a short while and have their own lives to live. Time will not slow just because I desire more baby moments or sanity. I have a job to do, and raise these kids I shall do...but I can't guarantee I won't have lots of fun along the way.

saying goodbye is never easy

2009-06-02T21:10:00.003-04:00

Today was a very sad day for me and since I don't really know what else to do I'm taking the time to write because in the past that is what I've done. It's how I deal I guess.

I venture to say that everyone has at least one teacher that they can say changed their life. Helped them see their potential or simply saw them as more than just another student. Somehow they touched your life and you look back fondly on them.

I'm very lucky. Right off the bat I can think of 4 teachers that do and have meant a great deal to me. They each have allowed me to become a better person and I am very grateful.

Today however I had to say goodbye to one of them. This one in particular was a large reason I survived the latter part of my childhood. She seemed to see something in me that I was yet to see. She pushed me in my studies, found ways to include and encourage me when she knew I was having difficulty, and seemed to never question bringing me into her home to comfort and guide me when I needed it most.

Even as I type I find it very difficult to put into words what she meant/means to me. I just know that the world seems to have lost some of its glimmer and hope now that she is gone.

With her passing I am filled with regret. The last time I physically saw her was the day of my wedding. We occasionally wrote a letter filling the other in on the lives we lived and sending a picture or two but we more or less lost touch.

When I first heard she had cancer I knew I wanted to go and see her I just didn't realize how little time I had to do so. I let the opportunities slip through my fingers and am now left hoping she knew how I felt and what she meant to me. I feel as if I've let us both down, she deserved better from me and I didn't come through.

I found myself watching her daughter today. A mere 7 years old not able to understand all she has lost. I remember holding this girl in my arms when she was weeks old. Joni and I spoke of marriage, children, religion as I held this sweet tiny baby. Joni continuing to guide while allowing plenty of room for my own thoughts and decisions.

I shed tears for the mother this child no longer has, the events she will go through knowing her mom should be there with her. I do however take comfort in that no one could love her anymore than her dad and how amazingly wonderful her life will be because he is in it.

I also shed tears for the son she leaves behind. This boy I've thought of as a little brother has grown into a wonderful man with a wife and life all his own. I always knew he would do wonderful things with his life and let me just say he does not disappoint.

I had held it together through the service rather well until after all was done and we all turned to leave this boy no more leaned down to give me a hug and we both just fell into weeping. I know his shoulders are heavy now with a sister who will need him more than ever and the void left from no longer having his mom around.

It's just all very sad and the tears fall so freely now that they have become expected, accepted. So with a sad and heavy heart I say:

Thank you Joni, for everything. It meant more than you would ever know or I could express. Thanks for the car rides, the attitude adjustments, the words of encouragement, the reality checks, the hugs, the gentle pushes in the right direction, the feeling that you were always in my corner and willing to show up...and for the shower, band-aids, clothes, and motherly love that night.

trying to find those 5 needed minutes

2009-06-01T13:35:00.004-04:00

Needless to say having 4 kids is totally kicking my rear. I am finding it difficult to get everything completed during the day. So, my writing has taken a back seat which really bothers me because not only do I enjoy writing but it is also my sounding board and release of the happenings.

We have managed to make it through the wedding with very little drama and only a few tears. It was a beautiful event and I'm rather sad my friend isn't close anymore but I'm hoping to plan a trip to see her before summer is over.

The dress I wore...holy good god....my breasts look like they are coming out of it at all angles which I suppose they were. My advice for those in the future don't wear a strapless dress when you are breastfeeding and your breasts are the size of small blimps.

Since the wedding we have seen little of Sean as he is traveling as much as possible to be with his dad in Charleston. With a little luck his dad may be home the end of this week and Sean won't have to travel as far to help out.

We also have the yard sale coming up this Saturday. I have so many kids clothes and maternity clothes that I have filled 4 racks and still have at least 2 trash bags full. I'm hoping that we can make a good amount of spending cash for the beach.

Also, our first trip back to the beach since we've had Conor. His first beach trip...so sad because the other 3 where on the beach before they were a month old. I hope we are able to still make him a beach baby.

Sorry for the deconstructed posts...I'm forcing myself to at least type a few thoughts down when I find a minute. I'm truly trying to get back into writing but it's always the first thing to give up when the day is busy which seems to be a daily event.

For example, today I took both boys to the doctor's office. They each had to have 3 shots and get checked out. Let me just say, you try to take a 2 year old and a 2 month old by yourself and see how you survive.

It went well enough but it wore me out trying to keep Michael from screaming and escaping the entire time as Conor was getting hungry and we still had the shots to survive. Luckily, after shots I was able to feed Conor and get home just in time to put both boys down for a nap.

The house is quiet now thus the reason I have 5 minutes to type..but my time is up and I have to get back to getting things ready for the yard sale, working on my lists of things to get ready for the beach, and laundry/housework.

I'll get there...eventually.

2009-05-19T23:45:00.004-04:00

I'm crazed at the moment. Not only am I trying to run a house with 4 screaming kids I'm trying to prep 3 of us to be in a wedding while 2 others are attending, leaving needed childcare for the remaining O'Sullivan.

On top of wedding craziness my father in law is recovering from a stroke. Luckily, it is much better than it could have been. He can talk and move so we are very thankful. Not much to tell currently other than he will start rehab soon so we are all just playing the waiting game.

Also, my favorite book has now been made into a movie and is currently playing. I'm so excited. So I have all kinds of blogs to write if I can find a moment to write them. Here is hoping tomorrow I find a moment because I'm really excited about writing right now.

I promise longer and better posts are coming. I promise!

busy bee still at work

2009-05-12T22:18:00.002-04:00

I had so hoped to make a constant return to blogging....well it's still a little difficult.

FYI: My father-in-law is back in the hospital so please say a prayer. My girls are still playing soccer, I'm trying to get my girls and I ready to be in my dear lil sis' (Ash) wedding in less than two weeks. Which is another post...can we say nursing mom trying to fit into a strapless dress just 8 weeks after giving birth. lol Tune back in for a laugh later. Plus, I'm trying to hang out with some momma friends and keep from locking myself into the house.

Now, I'm going to return to my guilty pleasure of Housewives of NYC and hope to write more tomorrow.

busy busy bee

2009-05-04T13:41:00.004-04:00

Ok, so it has been a very long time sine I've typed a word. Granted, I have been a little busy. Don't believe me....let me catch you up.

Well, I spent a good couple weeks with a terrible rash the last part of my pregnancy which had me up all hours of the night because I couldn't sleep so I spent my time pacing and scratching. Turns out I need gallbladder surgery, yippie! On a good note though, I don't have to have the surgery right away since delivering the baby made most of the symptoms go almost unnoticeable.

Of course I also gave birth to my 4th kid, that's right I am now the momma to 4 rugrats. Conor Reed O'Sullivan was born March 24, 2009 weighing in at an even 8 lbs. He graced us with some red hair and a very serious personality.

Since then I have been adjusting to having 5 year old twins, a 2 year old toddler (oh yeah, had his second birthday a few weeks ago), and an infant. Needless to say I don't have enough spare time to visit the bathroom much less head to the basement to write.

I'm hoping however that I am beginning to get the hang of having 4 kids and will be able to start writing at least twice a week if not every other day.

So for now, enjoy some pictures of what has been keeping us so busy.

7 years and counting

2009-01-26T15:33:00.001-05:00

Today Sean and I celebrate 7 years of marriage. We have known each other for 11 years. Our dating life was rather difficult which is mainly my fault. Granted I'm not sure we would be doing so well had those first few years been easy. The phrase, "We've come a long way baby" comes to mind and is very true.

Within 7 years of marriage we have moved 6 times, had 3 children and our fourth to arrive in March, and survived two periods were work required us to live in different cities and different states.

Looking back it's easier to say it was a piece of cake because we see how far we have come and and much we still love and enjoy each other...yet....marriage is full of ups and downs, easy and hard times.

I believe the difference between marriages working and falling apart is the desire and effort put into those marriages. I was lucky enough to marry my best friend. He is the one I talk to about everything, the one who knows me better than I even know myself sometimes. And from what I know....the same is true in reverse.

We truly work as a team even if one must pull a little more weight than the other at times. We try very hard to not allow outside influences to cause us issue by discussing situations and realizing that first and foremost our relationship must always be at the top of the list.

We are far from perfect and far from having marriage figured out but we have realized that some things work better than others. We know that it takes work and you get into trouble when you are unwilling to do the work.

Some couples aren't so lucky. The quickly jump from relationship to relationship often times from marriage to marriage looking for something to fill a void which makes building a lasting relationship difficult.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm truly blessed to have the husband I have and even though I might want to strangle him from time to time (as I'm sure he would love to do to me as well) I know I'm exactly where I am suppose to be.

Sean, I love you. Here's hoping the next 7 are as crazy and wonderful as the first 7.

so when does the whole "it gets easier" kick in?

2009-01-07T21:42:00.004-05:00

Since I gave birth to twins I have been told, "It gets easier as they get older". Now while I'm sure that in some form that is true I am beginning to believe that from my perspective that statement is full of shit.

I love my kids...each and every one of them. Even if I can never seem to get their names right. I couldn't imagine my life without them, spend my days with them as my main concern and job.

However, since my girls turned 14 months old my life has been extremely interesting...even if only to me. Granted the craziness began the moment they were born. How to breastfeed two? How do change two? How to keep from going insane with two?

After Sean and I finally managed to find a way that allowed each of us to get some sleep and get the girls fed we were off and running...and rather smoothly I might add. That is until...

dun dun dun

They began to walk/run/climb. My girls became huge fans of hiding and even bigger fans of getting into any and everything that would make a mess.

Some of these rather scary yet fond memories include Finding and covering themselves and every inch of the floor in baby powder at 14 months, the girls climbing upon each others back to get over the baby gates at the young age of 17 months, at age 2 they began to team up on me.

This consisted of following me to the bathroom and while I'm attempting to pee one would run off and go straight for the door. While one entertained me the other would run outside and hide. Then they both began running outside and hiding. They of course did this naked on several occasions because for some reason I am still yet to understand they hated having to wear clothing, and took every opportunity to undress.

From this point they began to venture into the road on these escape adventures leading to a neighbor having to return them inside. How embarrassing to have to run for the door as your pulling your pants up because you just know that it's over the girls. And yet again, they were naked.

After this moment I installed alarms on all the doors so at least I was capable of keeping up. This alerted me immediately but amazingly 2 year olds are fast. They would take out the door running and I would find them hiding in a house that was still under construction across the street.

I spent many a day during their "toddler" stage crying. I just couldn't keep up and at every turn they were working together, against me.

This gave way to potty training which needless to say is one of the most difficult things I've ever done. There are days in which I still believe one of my daughters will be in middle school before she finally gets the full hang of it.

Now the girls spend their days trying to get into anything and everything they know they are not suppose to touch. Still playing in baby powder, still putting toothpaste on the floor and attempting to use it as glue (or at least that is what I'm guessing was the motive). They still climb cabinets to get into food they know they are forbidden to have and still hiding anything that might get them into trouble underneath anything they can find.

So if you spill your drink, the only logically answer is to cover it with dirty clothes and pray that mom doesn't find out....or if you find yourself unable to get to the bathroom in time to pee you should shove your stinky underwear underneath your brother's crib because mom would never look under there. My favorite thus far has been been the let's just throw it behind the tv.

At age 5 my girls on well on their way as kids. Yet it is more exhausting than when they were 4 days old and wanted nothing but to eat all the time and never sleep. I honestly believe it's getting harder and harder as they are getting older.

While so many seem to find the infant stage to be the craziest and most exhausting I have preferred it with all 3 of my kids. My little boy is still so loving and will just cuddle with me when it becomes bedtime yet, I still miss those days when he would just smile and wiggle vs. running and screaming.

It is amazing to watch them grow and become little people instead of these little helpless babies and yet there are days when the thought of them continuing to grow and become more independent is enough to send me searching for the nearest closet and a stiff drink which neither are possible currently.

Easier???? Not a chance, easy parenting is in the beginning when you do nothing but feed, change, and love. This whole allowing and teaching children to become self sufficient productive adults is exhausting....and my oldest kids are 5. The only thought I am left with is "God help me when they become teenagers."

back to the norm

2009-01-05T11:37:00.003-05:00

Today the girls returned to school after almost 2 weeks off. So to some degree life is returning to our norm. Mornings are busy with the girls rushing around getting ready for school and husband getting ready for work.

However, I'm surprised to say I miss my girls. I was very anxious with such a long break. Michael and I had worked out our routine while the girls were in school so to have that interrupted left me feeling somewhat out of control.

To my surprise the break was rather nice. No rushing in the evenings to get every thing in...no rush to stick to a strict bedtime. It was, shall we say, relaxed. While there were some hiccups along the way it was enjoyable.

So today, the house is much calmer, quieter, and lonelier.

While on the break I finished the baby's room. I painted it and then Sean and I put the crib together. Still several items needed and more decorating needed but if something should happen that baby boy arrives early...we are ready. That is if you don't count we are still in need of a name for our little guy.

It felt good to get the room ready and yet strange to think another little life will be entering our home before too long.

With each pregnancy I've been nervous. Constantly concerned that something might not be exactly right. How would we handle the change? The first, twins, I was mortified. How could I possibly care for two lives at once with no previous experience and no help. We lived 7 hours away from family and Sean was starting a new job.

With Michael I was just worried about how adding another life would change the family dynamic. We had perfected the family of 4 thing and while I was so excited to have my little boy I was worried about how I would deal with twins plus an infant.

This time, more than any other time, I'm worried about health. Thus far, we have been given no reason for concern other than extra heart tests which turned out fine. Still I have this nagging feeling that this one might prove to be more than I can handle. What if something goes wrong?

I should point out that I've worried about the health of the baby with each pregnancy so maybe the "more than any other time" is simply that I'm currently in the midst.

The next several months should prove to be very interesting with my ever growing belly/baby, girls full time in school and starting the soccer season soon, Michael a constant toddler, and momma trying to prep the house for another little life.

It's hectic, crazy, full of energy. So, yes, it's life back to normal for us which even though I miss my girls is nice because it means we are moving forward.

27

2008-12-17T21:01:00.002-05:00

Today is my birthday and while my husband seems to be taking great joy in pointing out I'm no longer "young" I have the feeling I haven't been "young" for a very long time.

Looking back at the years that have passed I'm struck by the number of birthdays that were in so many ways just another day. My mother always did a great job of celebrating the day I was born but to me the hype of the day sometimes didn't transcend.

As kids we tend to build up such days, look at them as they are to be the greatest day, almost as big as Christmas. Often times such hype can leave us wanting.

As an adult I know that while my birthday is special it is in actuality just another day. Life beyond my own front door continues to pass with little notice of it's meaning to me, which is just as it should be.

Another thing I have noticed about my birthday is that for some reason I'm saddened by the day. I remember at 13 spending the day in my room, mostly crying. For what reason, I do not know.

My 15th birthday was spent wishing my grandmother and mom were home rather than at the hospital. The next day my grandmother died.

Now, since that birthday I admit celebrating became rather difficult. My birthday simply became a reminder that my grandmother was no longer around and given that at the time I was my momaw's girl it was and still is sad to think of yet another year she has missed out on.

As the years have passed I know that there will be moments with each birthday that the sadness of her departure will creep in, I know that I have many things to be proud of and am grateful to have made it through another year.

As a child we rush to celebrate, shout from the roof tops that it's our day and as we age the shouting gets quieter and quieter until it seems to become a whisper. Eventually it becomes less of our shouting and more of those around us shouting for us, and sometimes in spite of us.

While there will always be those that do not acknowledge our birthday's and those who seem to never forget, I believe the true celebration comes from the ability to look within ourselves and mark how far we have come. A declaration of "I've made it" and the understanding that with another year passing another one waits to be explored. We may not be guaranteed tomorrow but that doesn't mean we can't anticipate the adventure that awaits.

So with that spirit in mind, here is to the coming year and the many doors that will be opened and to those that will never open. I'm sure regardless of what happens it will definitely be an adventure...one I plan to enjoy even if it pains me along the way.

Also, here is to celebrating your special day...whatever day it may be. Embrace it, enjoy it, and know that it doesn't matter who celebrates with you as long as you are doing a little celebrating yourself.