Bittersweet

I've always had a love-hate relationship with this time of year. I LOVE summer. But I love fall, too. I always loved school, but was always terrified at the start of the year. This year, I'm so ready for my kids to be back in school and to have a break from each other, but I hate that I'm going to have to wake them up and rush them through mornings.

This summer was the best we've had in a while. Two years ago, my Dad died in early August. Last year was a great summer, but a stressful one, with our big move and all the transitions that brings. This year, we were settled, thankfully, since it was the first summer since 2009 that I was working full time. That took some doing, but all in all, it was a really good summer. The kids had a ton of fun and made so many good memories.

One of the awesome things about this summer was the multiple reminders of what rockingly awesome support system my Mom has around her. On her AHEM (milestone) birthday, August 8th, we threw her a party in Long Island, and a bunch of her friends came down for the weekend. These people, most of whom have been in our lives since around the time I was three, made the effort to travel to Long Island to celebrate my Mom, and they were all beyond happy to do it. They have embraced her, in the past two years, in ways we couldn't have anticipated, and I know I speak for my siblings as well as myself (and my Dad) when I say that I am grateful beyond words.

It was a summer of personal growth for me. In addition to working full time, I ran my first 7 mile race. It. Was. Awesome. Hard, really hot and humid, and awesome. I can't wait to do it again. Hopefully in less painfully slow fashion.

After finishing his MBA, E started a new job. It's a really big change (although within the same company) for him, and just the new challenge he needed, I think.

So, it's a bittersweet night around here, as we anticipate school starting tomorrow.

2

Once again this year, I struggled with what to write, when to post...the usual stuff. Here's where I landed. I decided to post today, rather than tomorrow, because August 2nd was the last time I spoke to my Dad. The last time I told him I loved him, while he was in the physical realm (I still tell him daily at minimum, but it's different now). So, I decided that, rather than posting tomorrow about how much I miss him, which I do, painfully, still and always, I would post today and focus on all the things that make me feel grateful, as related to him.

First, to that phone call. I think about it often. A million different things could've prevented us from reaching my parents on their way to the airport that day. We could've been running late. They could've been in a dead spot. One of the kids could've thrown a fit. A million things. But none of those things happened. We did get through. And we finished the conversation by saying, "I love you." And I will never, ever stop being grateful for that. Ever.

I'm grateful that I had such an amazing father in the first place. Not everyone does. And I did. How lucky. He was awesome and funny and kind and loving and myriad other things. He offered guidance and support and was the best cheerleader any of his five kids could've asked for. He was literally Santa Claus. We were really lucky.

I'm grateful that he loved my Mom so much. I had models (in both him and my grandfather) from early in life of how I should expect to be loved by my husband. And that is to say, I learned that I should be adored and appreciated, always. I carried that with me, and it is precisely why I ended up with E.

I'm grateful that he couldn't resist babies. If he hadn't been so gaga for babies, maybe there wouldn't have been all five of us.  No matter what else is going on in our lives, we have four built-in best friends that our parents gave us.

I'm grateful that I will always remember how thoroughly he believed in me. If ever I doubt my competence, I have only to remember how absolutely sure of it he always was. It never faltered, even when it probably should have.

So, yea. In short, two years later, life still sucks more without him than it did with him. But I'm also just so damn grateful for the life I have at least in part because I had him for a father. And I'm grateful because I believe he's still watching over me. Thanks, Papa.

Fear and Friendship

After a pretty decent hiatus, my anxiety has been back lately. The good news about that is that I think the hiatus can be mainly credited to regular acupuncture, which I've had to miss the last few weeks due to scheduling craziness. So, acupuncture seems to be helping my anxiety a lot. Which, yay.

But lately, on more than one occasion, I've been lying in bed and come to panic. Often over my children. Which stands to reason. I love these two beings with everything in me. They are like magic. Sometimes, I sit and just watch them and think, "Look at that! We did that!" Amazing. They're far from perfect, mind you, but their perfect in their lack of perfection.

B seems to have inherited my anxiety, along with most everything about me. And this has been on my mind a lot this week. Maybe it's because the other day was one of those arbitrary social media "holidays." This one was "Best Friends Day." It made me think about my best friend.

I was B's age when we became best friends. Seven. At seven, we chose each other. And we've continued to choose each other through life's roller coasters. Sometimes outward rollercoasters, sometimes rollercoasters within our friendship. But here we are, all these years later.

What does this have to do with B? Well. When I was an axious worrying seven year old, I found myself a kindred spirit. And through the intervening thirty plus (ahem) years, we have taken turns talking each other down from ledge after ledge. Failed fourth grade math tests, mean girls, meaner boys,  jobs, the two nicest boys, motherhood, all of it.


My family is so close, obviously. But my best friend is the family I chose, and she's been around so long that my whole family accepts her as part of our family.

When my Dad died, she packed up her then four month old and came to my sister's house, where she proceeded to spend most of the next week at my side.

One of my greatest hopes for B is that he finds a friend like this, to travel through life with. We anxious types can benefit from something so solid.

Stuff

It's been an insanely busy spring around here. This weekend, E1 graduated from Babson with an MBA. I'm so unbelievably proud of him. He worked his butt off to go to school while working full time and being a present  husband and father. He's amazing, you guys.

This was my first season as a full time employee with March of Dimes. I've worked five walks in two states so far. It's been a whirlwind. A fun, stressful, exhausting whirlwind. I feel like I've been a little absent from other parts of my life, so if you are in those other parts, I am sorry I've been MIA.

I also committed to running the Falmouth Road Race in August, to fundraise for March of Dimes. I haven't run a race in a long time. Like, pre-kids long. I had gotten back into regular running the summer E2 was 1, and then I got injured and took a hiatus. Then, I got back into regular running again before my Dad died. And then I stopped. I got into other types of exercise for a while and it was great. But I tend to forget when I'm not doing it regularly that running has a totally different effect on me, mentally and emotionally, than any other type of exercise. It's brutally hard for me. But nothing else I've tried feels the same afterwards. Like I've conquered something.

We've been dealing with the official ADHD diagnosis for B, and what that means. There is a lot to it, and it's hard, but it's not really a surprise, and I think knowing what we're dealing with is a sizable part of the battle.

72

Today would've been my Dad's 72nd birthday. He's been gone closer to two years than one now. And mostly, it is what it is, at this point. But then days like today come along and the emotions get so raw again. Occasions like this drive home how much it still sucks. It's not that it ever doesn't suck, but I guess this far in, we've gotten pretty used to it. And today, I was back to having a lump in my throat all day. I just wanted to be able to call and wish him a happy birthday. I wanted to be able to hug him. I wanted to be able to celebrate his birthday with him, the way I celebrated so many others with him.

I just still miss him. That's what it comes down to.

Leader of the Band

Being born in 1976, Dan Fogelberg was at the height of his popularity when I was a little kid. From a very early age, I remember his song "Leader of the Band," and I also remember associating it with my grandfather, who was a musician.

Calling him a musician doesn't really even cut it. Music was his everything. It surrounded him in every facet of his life. He played saxophone from age 4. He played in the army. He played in every type of band you could imagine. He taught music. He sold instruments to schools. Eventually, he fulfilled the lifelong dream of owning his own music store.

One of the things I will always remember most about him was his ability to whistle entire jazz ensemble pieces, all by himself. I can't do it justice with words. It was the most amazing thing I've ever heard, and he did it all the time, often without even realizing he was doing it.

He also loved the water. He lived near the ocean and always had boats. One of our favorite activities as kids was going out in Boppie's boats. We fished and swam off his boats. We ate the steamers and muscles he caught.

He lived a long, amazing, rollercoaster of a life. He fathered the most amazing person I've ever known (my Mom). He found true love in his second marriage, to my mother's stepmother, who was the only grandmother we knew growing up, as his first wife passed away in 1971.

Although he was a hypochondriac (I didn't get it form the green grass, people) and had been telling me since around 1994 that, "I could go any time, you know," he was always a hale and hearty guy. He was active and kept a strict, healthy diet (aside from the occasional apple cider donut from The Big Apple). So, when his health began to decline, it did so fairly rapidly. I think for him, the loss of independence was as damaging as age.

And so, at the age of 94, he left us yesterday.

I will always remember riding in his van (a cargo van, not really meant for transporting children...but it was the 80's, you know), listening to him whistling, smelling the salt air.

And whenever a song moves me in a really profound way, which is often, I'll remember where I got that from.  After all, "I am a living legacy to the leader of the band."

ADHD in the House

When I graduated from college and moved to Atlanta, I got a job at a school that specialized in individualized education for students with ADD/ADHD. From the get-go, it felt pre-destined. I've never worked anywhere that felt quite so much like where I was meant to be. (Although where I work now for sure comes close.)

I'm a believer that everything, or at least the big stuff, happens for a reason. And I'm discovering the reason for my teaching experience.

I think I've alluded in previous posts to my suspicions that B has ADHD. Having spent a good chunk of time amongst ADHDers, there were behaviors of his that were eerily familiar. This week, we got the official recommendation from his teachers that we get the diagnosis. And even knowing it was coming, it was hard to swallow.

Not because there is anything wrong with ADHD. On the contrary, there are people who have meant a great deal to me in my life - who have been and are among my favorite people on this planet, who have ADHD. But that's just it. Because these people mean so much to me, I know that there are things that come harder to people with ADHD.

Yes, education has made great strides in accommodating this increasingly common learning style. Even in the 15 years since I left the school, huge strides have been made. But it's still a huge challenge that he'll face. Whether the official diagnosis is ADHD or something else. It'll be a challenge. And what parent doesn't dread her child's challenges?

We are looking into dietary modifications to address what's going on with him. I am optimistic that will make a difference. And we'll continue down the road toward a formal diagnosis. We'll see where we end up. Stay tuned.

In the meantime, tonight, I'm feeling so very grateful for all my kiddos from back in the day, for teaching me so much about how best to help my B. I knew back then that they were special and meaningful to me, but I don't think I could've understood how much, until now.