Make some Jello...

I may have told this story before, but when I was in college and stressing about writing lesson plans, and a paper, and other homework I was complaining to my mom. At the time I was at my mom's Alma Mater and also studying education. She told me to go to the kitchen and make some Jello. WHY?! I hate Jello? Mom said it's not about the Jello. It's about getting unstuck, doing something where you can see results and knowing you can accomplish something. Then sitting down to write one lesson plan doesn't seem so overwhelming. If you write one, you can write two, and before you know it you have written the unit lesson plans. Just go make the Jello.

My mom hasn't given me advice for a quite awhile. My mom has Alzheimer's. She no longer really knows who I am. Memories like this one make my heart hurt, a lot. Because there are still so many moments when I wish I could ask my mom how to navigate this new place or just hear I'm not crazy. Just menopausal.

I still talk to my mom almost every single day, but it's not the same. It used to be her listening to me go on and on about the kids, my husband, and soccer moms. Now, I listen to mom go on and on about...anything. Sometimes she strings her thoughts together and I can almost forget she doesn't know I'm her daughter. Other days I sit patiently listening to her struggle to speak, think of words, and talk in circles that make no sense.

Once in a while, she will say something that knocks the air our of my lungs and the tears out of my eyes. Sometimes she says something like, Go make some Jello. And those moments are like catching a glimpse of an old movie. For a moment she's there-right there with me-then she's gone again.

My boys don't remember Nanna with out Alzheimer's. They don't remember the Nanna who read to them, and played trains with them, gave them a bath, and tucked them in. There are pictures but no memories of the Nanna who ran a business and community fund drives and every family holiday. It breaks my heart that they will never get that experience when she is still right here. 

I remember asking my mom, why Jello? She said "I just liked it." I still hate Jello, but I always have some in the pantry. Because sometimes, I just have to just- Go make the Jello.

Not until I say so...

Both boys suddenly have friends, who are girls, that they spend time with, alone. My husband is ALL for it. But he made it very clear to the boys - they are not girlfriends until he gets to meet them. I love that my husband thinks he has this much control!!

The boys response - " ok dad, she's not my girlfriend". There's no argument at all. "Bring them to the house!" Again -"ok dad". They are not phased. Dad holds no threat to his boys that both now tower over him. I have to admit this is a great source of mirth for me.

Last weekend my oldest texted me at 4:30 pm. "Hey mom, Any dinner plans? Just wondered if you wanted me home at any certain time?" So I texted back "No plan yet. What are you thinking?" So he called me and I was out with a friend at the time. I said, "I haven't gone to the store yet - what are you thinking?" and that's when my son said, "Well I was thinking of bringing my friend home for dinner..." Absolutely!

My husband was SO excited. He went into cleaning mode. Most women can relate and what you are probably thinking of is a quick pick up and Lysol wipe down. Nope. This is when my husband does things like vaccuum the basement carpet, clean out the refrigerator, trim the bushes, or wash a car.  The other factor of my husband going into go mode - he yells at everyone else to help him.

So I got my son's call at 4:30. We planned to eat at 6:30 pm. I had not yet been to the store and my son's girlfriend has food allergies. OH - and remember I was out with a friend at the time. I left for the store at 5 pm with the charge to make dinner for 5 that was gluten free and tree nut free (essential!) and for my family diary free and meat free options.

Meanwhile my husband cleaned things, barked and snipped at my youngest son, a lot, took a shower and stood by the front door waiting for them to arrive. When they pulled up the whole neighborhood was alerted as my husband started yelling "THEY'RE HERE! THEY'RE HERE!" You have to love his enthusiasm.

We had a great dinner, I didn't send anyone into anaphylactic shock, and they hung out and talked with us for a while. My husband smiled all night long. My son's girlfriend is 6'tall. They are both in engineering and the marching band. They are both quiet, thoughtful, serious, kind, and probably more family oriented then friend centered. 

And now she is officially a girlfriend - according to my husband! My son's not big on labels.

Three Little Birds

When they hand over your child life changes, in many ways. The first is - you want every little thing...to be alright.  When things are not alright it's hard. Your heart and soul are screaming FIX IT!! Literally. Because your heart and soul are now outside your body. They are walking, talking, and living in a cruel cruel world. It is your mission to protect them.

My oldest son relived my exact experience on my first flight. On the first flight he would be able to remember his ear became inflamed causing severe pain upon descending. And then we had another flight to go. It was awful and there was nothing I could do.

Sighhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

I started to sing. Every little thing, is gonna be alright. Baby don't worry, about a thing. Cause every little thing, is gonna be alright.

Here is the thing. I knew that it wasn't going to be alright. Not for quite a while. But there was my heart and soul holding it's head, crying, terrified, and in pain. So I keep singing Baby don't worry! 'bout a ting. cuz every little ting, gonna be alright, mon.

For me, maybe not everyone, the hardest part of parenting is reliving all my childhood trauma. If I have to relive it all, at least I can help it turn out WAY better this time. What did I need to hear when I was a kid having panic attack after panic attack? I just needed to know Every little thing was going to be alright. Even if it wasn't, yet.

After that trip, I looked up the song not knowing the title is Three little birds. The verse not just the chorus are beautiful. If there was ever an anthem for positivity and gratitude this is it. 

Rise up this mornin'
Smiled with the risin' sun
Three little birds
Pitch by my doorstep
Singin' sweet songs
Of melodies pure and true
Saying', (this is my message to you)

Singing' don't worry 'bout a thing
'Cause every little thing gonna be alright
Singing' don't worry (don't worry) 'bout a thing
'Cause every little thing gonna be alright

Even when maybe every little things isn't gonna be alright right this minute, what I know from life is - It will be. Tomorrow morning the sun will rise, the birds will sing, and at least one little thing will be all right. Never stop singing mon.

Facing your fears....

It is an absolutely gorgeous late fall day. It is 60 degrees, the sun is out, there is a lot of wind but being outside in shorts in the Midwest on November 6th! I'll take it. Ne excuse for not working out and for not getting in 500 words. New goal. 500 words  a day until the end of the year.

Face your Fears! Does not mean jumping out of an airplane, I'm not crazy! But it does mean do the stuff that is hard. Writing even when I want to pull the covers back over my head. Texting someone to see if they want to take a walk, asking my husband for a date, sitting down in front of a blank canvas. First world fears right?!

If I am writing this for my boys, then this is what I want them to know about fears. They never go away, just morph maybe? Human's biggest fear of all? Being alone. Truly alone, not 21st Century alone where you have TV, radio, 10 streaming services, iPad, and iPhone. That is anything but alone. The kind of alone where the only other person you can hear is in your head - YOU.

The people who say I can not mediate or I hate meditation. What they hate is hearing all the chatter of their mind. Their actual inner voice. Their deepest darkest wants, needs, desires, thoughts, and fears. That shit is scary. It is hard work to learn how to sit with yourself and not judge, just listen. Get curious. You can't not do it boys. Because here is what I learned way late in life. In order to fully give and receive love you have to be able to give and receive love - to yourself. Forgive the stupid shit you did, said, watched. Talk to yourself like you would talk to your best friend. Beating yourself up isn't discipline its dumbassery. How long would your friends stick around if you talked to them they way your talked to yourself???

All of us as humans could make a list of 100 things we fear. Not one of us would put "Myself" on that list. But that is ultimately what we are most afraid of - being alone, in our head, with our life movie on repeat. Reliving it over and over again...regrets, mistakes, F#@% ups. There is more though. If you learn to sit still, be still, get quiet, get curious, not judge, forgive, and talk to yourself like you would talk to your best friend. Then you can see the good stuff, the joyful stuff, the silly stuff. Then you can see yourself for who you are to the world.

This is why your parents, teachers, friends will say to you...I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.

This used to be easier.....

I haven't found time to sit down and write about my sons misadventures, milestones, and memories for quite a while. I would like to blame work, life, or my husband. But the reality is, it was easier not to. Sitting down and writing is hard and I stopped doing the hard stuff.

I told myself I WAS doing the hard stuff. Raising kids, working part-time, surviving a pandemic, taking care of aging parents. But that was not the reality. It was just to hard. My sons's did not stop growing and making memories....I just stopped writing them down.

I don't think I have written about my oldest son since he was in Junior High. He is most like me. He struggled with Junior High and High School, his first girlfriend, and perfectionism. Covid was horrible for him. All the hard work he had been putting into music was paying off RIGHT when the world shut down. The rug was pulled so far out from underneath him I am not sure if it will ever go back.

He is currently at University studying and playing music and still a perfectionist. He may have a girlfriend but he is certainly not telling us, so my husband told him it is not official until we meet her. Such a Greek father! Honey, he may not speak up until the wedding -?!

My youngest son has chosen a University. One and done. We went, we looked, we're done. Now, the after Senior year world tour is a different story. He has said for three years he is going to go to spend time with family overseas after high school. Now he just has to plan it. Part of his plan is to see if he can workout or tryout with Football clubs there. Good on'ya Mate! As long as he is driving this bus. I can't do it for him, but I will cheer the loudest. Guaranted.

I'm frustrated with myself for not writing more down. The boys deserve better. I deserve better. As I watch my mother disintegrate from Dementia I am paralyzed. What if that is me??! Just like that New Year's Eve question- What if I wake up tomorrow and forget who I am? Who will tell me.....what would my boys remember?

Will they remember all the trips to the zoo, the library, the parks? Will they remember all the hours I volunteered in their classroom and on school trips? Will they remember all the homemade birthday cakes, Halloween costumes, celebratory meals? Will they remember the hours we spent in the car - driving everywhere! To soccer practice, soccer games, soccer tournaments, soccer parties! and to be fair also cross country, basketball, flag football, and even dance classes for a bit. Will they remember awards, concerts, ceremonies?

If holding onto memories requires reliving them over and over again. Who will they relive those memories with besides each other? We don't have family, they don't have friend groups. And of course my biggest worry, they are too much like me. The only memories they will have are of the anxiety, disappointment, and trauma.

There are two reasons I am angry at myself because ultimately I let myself down. I let Anxiety and depression win. I stopped writing and stopped reliving the moments to cement them in memories. That's all on me.