Regrets
So it has been five years since my last post. Wow.
I came across this old blog because someone linked from it to the blog where I journal the books I have read (Passionate Book Lover). I read through these old posts and was taken back to a time in my life when my children were young and I felt overwhelmed. I think I wrote the blog, because as a stay at home mom with only my children to talk to, I needed an outlet to express my adult self. I needed someone to listen to my stories, even if that someone ended up only being me rereading what I had written.
Five years later, the words contained here mean more to me than I can express. So much of that time, so many of those little, daily, seemingly insignificant things have been forgotten. So much has happened since then. My children are 5 years older, my mother passed away from her breast cancer, my life has stayed the same and changed at the same time. And all of that is gone, not having been journaled the way the years before were. Regrets. This is one of them.
After rereading all of those posts earlier today, I have decided to pick this blog back up. I want to remember these days when my kids are older. I am so saddened that I stopped writing here when my youngest was just a baby. He is in 1st grade now! All of that time is gone. And now that my kids are older, I wish so desperately that I had some of that time back.
I think I stopped the journaling here because I joined Facebook. I think that updating a status on Facebook and interacting with other people there satisfied that need to interact and tell my story, my opinions, my thoughts on what is important to me, so I dropped writing here. I regret it so much now, realizing how much of what is recorded here was gone from my memory.
So, to catch up...My children are now 14 and in 9th grade; 11 and in 6th grade; 8 and in 3rd grade; and that baby boy is now 6 and in 1st grade. I cannot believe that I am the mother of a high school student. I can't really be that old can I? He attended his Freshman Homecoming just a couple weeks ago. Raising a teenage boy has been a challenge. Somewhere around the age of 11 we lost that sweet child and he turned into one that challenges every word we say. I am sure this is leading to a great independence and self assurance that we will be proud of one day. For now, it is very frustrating and difficult. This parenting thing is a learning process even this late in the game. I suppose it always will be, and in the end that is a very good thing. Even if during any particular moment in time it doesn't feel like it. In spite of that, he still make me proud and sometimes I am surprised at just how grown up and mature he is becoming. We attended his first high school choral concert last night and the chorus blew me away with a Les Miserables melody. What a great night! I was so proud and flooded with memories of my own high school days when we performed Les Mis.
My middle schooler is still very sweet, but beginning that same phase with challenging us. The two of them are the best of friends. That is something that I cherish. They fight, sure, but more often they get into trouble because instead of brushing their teeth they are chatting. I love that and I really hope that transfers into adulthood. I am very proud of the student that my 6th grader has become. Up until this year, he still needed quite a bit of guidance with studying and schoolwork. But this year he has really come into his own and is proving to be an excellent student. I think that this is because the expectations have been lower for him than for the oldest, and I am not sure why that is. Another regret. I wonder if that is why we now have some issues with the oldest with his school work...do we not show the same pride over his achievements simply because they are expected?
My little girlie girl is still such a treasure to me. She is in 3rd grade and struggles a bit scholastically, even though she has the most common sense out of all of my kids. But her academic struggles don't phase her. She doesn't worry about anything and is so self assured, I think because she is just unaware of the fact that there are people out there who judge. She just doesn't care. She doesn't care what anyone thinks, will play with absolutely anyone, and loves everybody. I absolutely love that about her, but it also worries me. I fear that one day she will get her heart broken. She has a friend at school that is a "mean girl" and up until now I have tried not to influence her friendship. Recently, though I had to have a talk with her about this girl's actions when she wrote rude words in my girlie's planner. I had to tell her that this person is a mean girl and not a good friend. That she wrote bullying words and that she probably did it to try to get my girlie in trouble. I spent 15 minutes erasing those words out of that planner (thank God it was in pencil). I know my daughter loves her still, and I hope she doesn't hold it against me for being honest with her. She seemed to take it in stride...again with the not caring what anyone thinks attitude. I am so proud of how strong my girl is and that she doesn't let this mean girl influence her into being a mean girl, too. Every night at bed time I ask her two questions: Who is the prettiest girl in the whole wide world? and, Who is my dream come true? Her response to both is "I am," and I respond with "You are." I hope one day she remembers this and knows that each night when I say those words I mean them with every fiber of my being.
Finally, my little baby boy that is not so little anymore. He is the most sweet, kindest, most caring little love in the world. He is so social and has so many friends. Much different than his older siblings who were more reserved and quiet. He is able to see into my soul and at certain times is able to give me exactly what I need when no one else can. He is so tender and loving. I want that to last forever. He is very much like his older brother (my 11 year old). We often say that they are like twins 5 years removed. He is so smart and is excelling in school. Top group for everything, and while I have realized now that that does not matter it still makes me very proud. Every night at bed time we have a routine. I ask him who his girl is and he pretends not to know or names someone else. I then tickle him like crazy until he says his girl is me. I know now, after reading through the old posts here, how much I should treasure that.
So that is my children...
I really regret not keeping a journal of my life, my feelings and the events that transpired between November of 2011 and sometime late in 2012. I feel that I could write a book about those months. My mother's health started really going downhill around her 70th birthday in November of 2011. I began helping with household chores and doing grocery shopping. Then my dad fell ill with pneumonia in January 2012. He was hospitalized and my mom couldn't be left alone so my husband, my brothers, their wives, my aunt and I shared the duties of caring for her and my dad. He came home from the hospital and she went in - blood transfusions because of her advanced cancer, a stint put in her leg because of a blood clot. She came home from the hospital and he suffered a heart attack in February. It was touch and go for a while with him. He spent quite a long time in the ICU at Sinai and at the same time my mother was told by her doctor's that there was nothing more they could do and she should consider hospice care. There were days during all of that that my brothers and I thought we were going to lose them both. It was so so so hard.
My older brother took charge of Dad's care, while I took charge of Mom's and my younger brother filled in on both sides where necessary. We worked SO well as a team. I wish I had all of that recorded in some way. While it was the hardest time to date of my life, it was also enriching and wonderful. The bond between the six of us (my brothers and our spouses) became so strong. It was a force to be reckoned with. The decisions we had to make I would not wish on anyone, but we handled it together every step of the way. We were only able to get my mom and dad together three times in that last month before she died in March of 2012, because he was in the hospital and then rehab and she was inpatient at Gilchrist. But we made those times count. We worked together through her arrangements when my Dad just couldn't, laughing and loving as we went. I hope my Mom was proud of that.
So many feelings that go along with her passing. Not being with her at the very end because my girlie had strep throat is still so hard for me to contemplate. Making a choice to have dinner with my girlfriends the night before she passed instead of going to see her, because I just needed a break from it all. Not saying what I should have said to her on those last few visits before she slipped away and became almost unresponsive. Regrets.
My faith, my husband, my children, my brothers & their wives, my girlfriends...they were my support and my rock through all of that. I learned how strong I was, just how much I could withstand, how even though I felt like I was about to break I was able to keep forging ahead. I learned how strong my family was and we created a bond then that is incredible. Things that could truly drive a wedge and destroy family only brought us closer together. And look at how far we have all come since then...
My dad has recovered from a major heart attack and lives independently. I accompany him to doctor's appointments, grocery shop with him once a week to help him get the groceries into his condo, and I take out his trash and handle a few other occasional household chores with my brothers' and my hubby's help (like light bulb changes and washing the litter box). Otherwise he does everything on his own. I am very proud of how he has come through losing his wife. And I treasure that being with him through his grief has shed light on who they were together and how deep his feelings ran for her.
So, my goal is to keep this up. Someday I want to look back and remember all of this, the good and the bad. I want to have a record of some of the little, daily, inconsequential things that will mean everything when time has stolen them from my mind. I want a record of my feelings during some of the more consequential times, too. Even if I end up being the only reader. It is really just for me anyway.
I came across this old blog because someone linked from it to the blog where I journal the books I have read (Passionate Book Lover). I read through these old posts and was taken back to a time in my life when my children were young and I felt overwhelmed. I think I wrote the blog, because as a stay at home mom with only my children to talk to, I needed an outlet to express my adult self. I needed someone to listen to my stories, even if that someone ended up only being me rereading what I had written.
Five years later, the words contained here mean more to me than I can express. So much of that time, so many of those little, daily, seemingly insignificant things have been forgotten. So much has happened since then. My children are 5 years older, my mother passed away from her breast cancer, my life has stayed the same and changed at the same time. And all of that is gone, not having been journaled the way the years before were. Regrets. This is one of them.
After rereading all of those posts earlier today, I have decided to pick this blog back up. I want to remember these days when my kids are older. I am so saddened that I stopped writing here when my youngest was just a baby. He is in 1st grade now! All of that time is gone. And now that my kids are older, I wish so desperately that I had some of that time back.
I think I stopped the journaling here because I joined Facebook. I think that updating a status on Facebook and interacting with other people there satisfied that need to interact and tell my story, my opinions, my thoughts on what is important to me, so I dropped writing here. I regret it so much now, realizing how much of what is recorded here was gone from my memory.
So, to catch up...My children are now 14 and in 9th grade; 11 and in 6th grade; 8 and in 3rd grade; and that baby boy is now 6 and in 1st grade. I cannot believe that I am the mother of a high school student. I can't really be that old can I? He attended his Freshman Homecoming just a couple weeks ago. Raising a teenage boy has been a challenge. Somewhere around the age of 11 we lost that sweet child and he turned into one that challenges every word we say. I am sure this is leading to a great independence and self assurance that we will be proud of one day. For now, it is very frustrating and difficult. This parenting thing is a learning process even this late in the game. I suppose it always will be, and in the end that is a very good thing. Even if during any particular moment in time it doesn't feel like it. In spite of that, he still make me proud and sometimes I am surprised at just how grown up and mature he is becoming. We attended his first high school choral concert last night and the chorus blew me away with a Les Miserables melody. What a great night! I was so proud and flooded with memories of my own high school days when we performed Les Mis.
My middle schooler is still very sweet, but beginning that same phase with challenging us. The two of them are the best of friends. That is something that I cherish. They fight, sure, but more often they get into trouble because instead of brushing their teeth they are chatting. I love that and I really hope that transfers into adulthood. I am very proud of the student that my 6th grader has become. Up until this year, he still needed quite a bit of guidance with studying and schoolwork. But this year he has really come into his own and is proving to be an excellent student. I think that this is because the expectations have been lower for him than for the oldest, and I am not sure why that is. Another regret. I wonder if that is why we now have some issues with the oldest with his school work...do we not show the same pride over his achievements simply because they are expected?
My little girlie girl is still such a treasure to me. She is in 3rd grade and struggles a bit scholastically, even though she has the most common sense out of all of my kids. But her academic struggles don't phase her. She doesn't worry about anything and is so self assured, I think because she is just unaware of the fact that there are people out there who judge. She just doesn't care. She doesn't care what anyone thinks, will play with absolutely anyone, and loves everybody. I absolutely love that about her, but it also worries me. I fear that one day she will get her heart broken. She has a friend at school that is a "mean girl" and up until now I have tried not to influence her friendship. Recently, though I had to have a talk with her about this girl's actions when she wrote rude words in my girlie's planner. I had to tell her that this person is a mean girl and not a good friend. That she wrote bullying words and that she probably did it to try to get my girlie in trouble. I spent 15 minutes erasing those words out of that planner (thank God it was in pencil). I know my daughter loves her still, and I hope she doesn't hold it against me for being honest with her. She seemed to take it in stride...again with the not caring what anyone thinks attitude. I am so proud of how strong my girl is and that she doesn't let this mean girl influence her into being a mean girl, too. Every night at bed time I ask her two questions: Who is the prettiest girl in the whole wide world? and, Who is my dream come true? Her response to both is "I am," and I respond with "You are." I hope one day she remembers this and knows that each night when I say those words I mean them with every fiber of my being.
Finally, my little baby boy that is not so little anymore. He is the most sweet, kindest, most caring little love in the world. He is so social and has so many friends. Much different than his older siblings who were more reserved and quiet. He is able to see into my soul and at certain times is able to give me exactly what I need when no one else can. He is so tender and loving. I want that to last forever. He is very much like his older brother (my 11 year old). We often say that they are like twins 5 years removed. He is so smart and is excelling in school. Top group for everything, and while I have realized now that that does not matter it still makes me very proud. Every night at bed time we have a routine. I ask him who his girl is and he pretends not to know or names someone else. I then tickle him like crazy until he says his girl is me. I know now, after reading through the old posts here, how much I should treasure that.
So that is my children...
I really regret not keeping a journal of my life, my feelings and the events that transpired between November of 2011 and sometime late in 2012. I feel that I could write a book about those months. My mother's health started really going downhill around her 70th birthday in November of 2011. I began helping with household chores and doing grocery shopping. Then my dad fell ill with pneumonia in January 2012. He was hospitalized and my mom couldn't be left alone so my husband, my brothers, their wives, my aunt and I shared the duties of caring for her and my dad. He came home from the hospital and she went in - blood transfusions because of her advanced cancer, a stint put in her leg because of a blood clot. She came home from the hospital and he suffered a heart attack in February. It was touch and go for a while with him. He spent quite a long time in the ICU at Sinai and at the same time my mother was told by her doctor's that there was nothing more they could do and she should consider hospice care. There were days during all of that that my brothers and I thought we were going to lose them both. It was so so so hard.
My older brother took charge of Dad's care, while I took charge of Mom's and my younger brother filled in on both sides where necessary. We worked SO well as a team. I wish I had all of that recorded in some way. While it was the hardest time to date of my life, it was also enriching and wonderful. The bond between the six of us (my brothers and our spouses) became so strong. It was a force to be reckoned with. The decisions we had to make I would not wish on anyone, but we handled it together every step of the way. We were only able to get my mom and dad together three times in that last month before she died in March of 2012, because he was in the hospital and then rehab and she was inpatient at Gilchrist. But we made those times count. We worked together through her arrangements when my Dad just couldn't, laughing and loving as we went. I hope my Mom was proud of that.
So many feelings that go along with her passing. Not being with her at the very end because my girlie had strep throat is still so hard for me to contemplate. Making a choice to have dinner with my girlfriends the night before she passed instead of going to see her, because I just needed a break from it all. Not saying what I should have said to her on those last few visits before she slipped away and became almost unresponsive. Regrets.
My faith, my husband, my children, my brothers & their wives, my girlfriends...they were my support and my rock through all of that. I learned how strong I was, just how much I could withstand, how even though I felt like I was about to break I was able to keep forging ahead. I learned how strong my family was and we created a bond then that is incredible. Things that could truly drive a wedge and destroy family only brought us closer together. And look at how far we have all come since then...
My dad has recovered from a major heart attack and lives independently. I accompany him to doctor's appointments, grocery shop with him once a week to help him get the groceries into his condo, and I take out his trash and handle a few other occasional household chores with my brothers' and my hubby's help (like light bulb changes and washing the litter box). Otherwise he does everything on his own. I am very proud of how he has come through losing his wife. And I treasure that being with him through his grief has shed light on who they were together and how deep his feelings ran for her.
So, my goal is to keep this up. Someday I want to look back and remember all of this, the good and the bad. I want to have a record of some of the little, daily, inconsequential things that will mean everything when time has stolen them from my mind. I want a record of my feelings during some of the more consequential times, too. Even if I end up being the only reader. It is really just for me anyway.
posted by mother juggler @ 9:37 PM
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