Rough Patch

My three year old and I are going through a rough patch. It's not the first time. Occasionally, he's gone through what I call the "I hate Mommy" phase. This particular one is really bad. Yesterday, while running errands, he got angry with me because we were picking up Daddy's Christmas gift (and none for B) and he told me he loves Daddy more. When I asked why, he said it was because I'm a bad Mommy. For the record, I'm not.

Luckily, we were going to see Santa today, and I was able to use that as leverage, telling him that Santa loves me very much (as most of y'all know, Santa is my Dad), and that if I were to tell Santa he'd said that, it would not go well for him. I also asked him how he would feel if I told him I loved Daddy more than I loved him. He admitted this would make him very sad, and I told him it makes me very sad when he says it, too. Both of these points seemed to hit home pretty well. He was very apologetic and insisted that he does, in fact, love me very much. (Which, of course he does. He is an only child with a stay at home mom...I'm pretty much his world, a lot of the time.)

But it doesn't change the overall pattern, which is that he's in kind of a nasty phase with me, and as much as I realize one shouldn't take such things personally coming from a three year old, it's really hurtful...in addition to just being unacceptable behavior which, from a Mom's perspective, is never ok anyway.

So, sigh. I just hope it's over soon.

Speaking of Uncanny Memories...

I had a doctor's appointment yesterday, and of course my constant companion was with me. When we pulled into the parking lot, he said, "No crying, Mommy." And I told him, "No, I won't cry." He followed up with, "You cried last time, when Daddy was here." (He was referring to the day of the ultra-sound that revealed the miscarriage.) And I said, "Yes, I did." He said, "That scared me." And I said, "I know it did, and I'm so sorry." He said, "That's ok. You were sad. But! No crying today!" So I agreed I wouldn't cry. Which I didn't.

He is so much like me, this way. He takes in and remembers everything. Which, of course, is a huge part of the reason I am so racked with guilt, still, that he was there for that. Of course we couldn't have known. But I should have. I should have been more insistent, but I was so scared and tired I wasn't thinking straight. So, I guess the best I can say is...lesson learned.

December 8, 1980

I remember that day. I have kind of an uncanny memory - I remember things from when I was quite young, which people always seem surprised to hear, but which is true. On December 8, 1980, I was four. I remember the news, the people gathered in Central Park, crying. I remember my mom being really sad, too. I remember asking her, "Why are those people crying?" And I remember her responding sadly, "Because they loved him," And then I remember asking, "Why?" And her responding, still sadly, "Because he was very special." And that always stuck with me. My brother lived in the building next to the Dakota for a couple of years, and I never visited him without thinking of it. I never passed Strawberry Fields without remembering the crying people gathered there.

I could go on a rant about how celebrities now are devoid of substance as compared with John Lennon. But I choose to believe that's not true. Sure, there are vapid idiots out there, and sure we're all idiots too for obsessing about them. But before John Lennon emerged from Liverpool, who could ever have guessed the impact he would have? Therefore, isn't it possible that the next great artistic genius is just around the corner? I like to think it is. I like to hope so.

You Are My Sunshine

My son just started singing this one day. I used to sing it to him when he was a baby, particularly when we were going his nebulizer treatments. But I wouldn't have expected him to remember the lyrics. As far as I know, he didn't sing it at daycare. I'm really, genuinely not sure how he learned it well enough to sing on his own, but he did. That's all I'm sayin'.

Goodnight, Buck. I love you and I miss you every day, even 11 years later.

Year By Year

Every year, I feel luckier and luckier to have my husband. The past four years have been by far the best and fastest of my life. With each passing year, my husband continues to amaze me with his generosity, his kindness and his unfailing love and support. He is an amazing father. He is probably the best person I know.

I am so grateful to have him in my life, and for the four years of marriage we have under our belts, as well as the years we have ahead.

Big Sky

My parents have had the same best friends since I was about three. Over the years, they've become more like an aunt and an uncle - in fact, that's what I call them - and their kids are my cousins. My uncle's parents were like another set of grandparents to me, growing up.

When I was six, I went on vacation with their family and my uncle's parents. During the trip, I called a summit with the grandparents. I sat across the dinner table from them and very solemnly asked them if they would mind if I called them their "grandparent" names - Mimi and Papa. They graciously accepted.

Mimi passed away in 2004, and Papa passed away overnight last night. Much like my grandparents whom I've mentioned here many times, they had a great love story. As such, Papa was never really the same after he lost Mimi, so as sad as I am to have officially said goodbye to a man I adored, I'm glad he is reunited with his great love. The title of the post is a nod to the fact that they grew up in Montana, so my aunt said this morning that Papa had returned to Big Sky Country.

It felt only right to pay a small tribute to my "other grandparents" here. They had one of the most unfailingly welcoming homes I ever had the privilege of visiting, and I will never forget that.

The Struggle

I had a really bad weekend. Not in terms of events, mind you, just in terms of my own state of mind. I don't know what the eff was going on with me, but I was an emotional mess. I felt like crying pretty much all weekend, and frequently did actually break down. Most notably last night, laying in bed next to a beleaguered and injured (pinched nerve in the neck) E, who was, as ever, supportive and patient and loving.

What was going on? I'm not really sure. Normally, when it gets this bad, it's hormone-related, but I can't really see where that would be the case, based on dates. Or, it could be thyroid related, but there again, I can't see how it would be, since I don't have any other symptoms.

More likely, it's a combination of things. 1) I am putting way too much pressure on myself to get back on the baby wagon. Shocking, I know. 2) I need to get my fat as* to a gym and get back in shape. 3) E was out of commission most of the weekend, which is only relevant b/c to a stay at home Mom, having no hubby support on a weekend is the equivalent of someone who works outside the home working all weekend, 4) The weather was crappy and B had a difficult time with that, 5) I've had a couple of really productive therapy sessions the past few weeks, and while the overall outcome of that is positive, I think I'm probably dealing with some "stuff" all that talk has brought to the surface.

So, what do I do? I don't know. I mean...other than the getting my as* to a gym part. I guess all I can do is continue to be enormously grateful for my amazing husband and unusually sensitive son. Which I am. Day in and day out. Even if I don't always show it because I'm too wrapped up in my own drama and am busy being a big baby.