Blindsided

I love the movie About Time. It absolutely reduces me to a soggy, sobbing mess, EVERY time, but I'll pretty much never not watch it, still. There's a line in it. "The real troubles in your life will always be things that never crossed your worried mind." As an avid worrier, I can confirm that this is very, very true. Sure, I had a nascent worry about losing my Dad, but it honestly never occurred to me that he was going to die on that flight over the Atlantic.

And it's funny…grief is kind of similar. Times when you think things are going alone fine, when you think you're doing ok…WHAM! The carpet disappears and you're free-falling.

It's been two and a half years since my Dad died. And then some things happened.

Last week, my cousin lost her husband. He was 44. He was a wonderful, wonderful person. He took care of her and her daughter when she was a young, single mother, and became a great Dad and husband for them. Together, they went on to have two more children. They made a family together, and it really sucks that he is gone now. Death is a part of life, yes, but sometimes the TIMING of it is just flat out unfair.

So, perhaps, then, grief was on my mind already when I went to show my daughter a video of her as a baby, and subsequently stumbled across one of B jumping to my Dad in my sister's pool. It had been a long time since I'd heard his voice. And it caught me off guard. And as my Mom said a little while ago, "Grief sneaks up on you. It's like a kick to the back of the head." And it is.

It's a particular weakness of mine, when it comes to my Dad and B. They had a special bond. So, seeing that video hit that nerve even more squarely in light of that. Still, two and a half years later, I just hate that B lost his Papa. I hate it. I hate that it changed his world. I hate that it changed the WAY he sees the world as a whole. I hate that it will probably be the defining event of his childhood. It's not fair. And I know life isn't fair. But I don't have to like it.

But perhaps it is through this filter that Ben sees the world, that brought about his reaction when I told him about my cousin's husband's death, and his first thought was for their 7 year old son. This extremely empathetic boy of mine knows loss. And although that sucks, maybe it will bring about something good, somehow. Maybe. I hope so.

Sigh. Another not entirely coherent post here at MommyWriter.

Every New Beginning...

I turned forty on Thursday. I'm really excited for this new decade. I was pretty over my thirties, if I'm being honest. I mean, obviously, so many amazing, magical things happened in my thirties. That's a given. But I also spent a lot of time kind of struggling with finding my new identity, as a wife and Mom. After spending most of my twenties getting really comfortable with myself, my sense of self completely changed in my thirties, and while a lot of it was good, it was also hard and often kind of painful.

So many people have told me since Thursday that the forties are a great, fun decade, and I'm ready for it.

But in order to have a great, fun decade, there are some old habits I really need to let go of.

I've made a lot of progress in my self talk, but I still have a long way to go. I'm my own worst critic, hands down. I can sometimes be kind of awkward, probably due to my social anxiety/shyness, and as a result, I can really mentally berate myself. It's so counter-productive and needs to stay in my past.

I constantly convince myself that people are mad at me. Like, CONSTANTLY. Or, even that people don't like me. There are examples of it that are patently ABSURD. And I really need to knock it off. I'm a kind, caring person and a good friend and family member. If I'm not DOING anything to make anyone angry, then I need to quit torturing myself.

I need to believe in myself more. I have this longstanding feeling of inferiority. Sometimes, it'll even rear its ugly head within my own family. I'm not as good an athlete. I'm not in as good of shape. Whatever it is. I can convince myself that I have less to offer. And I can sometimes think that other people see me through MY eyes, not their own. It's a totally gross, mean (to me) habit, and I need to get rid of it. And it comes into play professionally, too. I need to have more professional confidence. Yes, I had some bad experiences, but they were a long time ago now, and when people tell me I'm good at my job, I need to believe them.

Now that my kids are 8 and 4, and are beginning to get more self sufficient, I need to get back into a better self care habit. I think it's fairly standard when your kids are tiny to kind of neglect yourself. But really, it's not as helpful as it seems, and that one needs to get gone, too.

I'm just ready for some fun. Some enjoyment. Not that I didn't have fun in my thirties, but I think I spent so much of that decade "getting settled" into various things, and now that I am a bit more settled, I feel ready to reap some of the good stuff I sowed.

Ho Ho Ho

"It's comin along Christmas. They're cutting down trees. Putting up reindeer and singin songs of joy and peace. And I wish I had a river that I could skate away on…"

Joni got it.

As I've said pretty much every year I've had this blog, I love Christmas. I love Christmas parties more than anything. I've been to three Yankee Swaps and a Secret Santa in the past two weeks, and they never get old.

But also.

I think most moms, even most PEOPLE, would feel me here - this time of year is so stressful. There is so much to do. There is so much to remember. And none of the "other stuff" takes a back seat.

This year, my Mom, all five siblings, and families, as well as my aunt, uncle, cousin and cousin's gf, are going to Montana. It's going to be an adventure for sure. The kids are going to learn to ski. And it'll be amazing to go somewhere that was so close to my Dad's heart, at his favorite time of year.

But for sure, traveling for Christmas adds a level of stress that cannot be downplayed.

I'm going to make the absolute most of the trip, though. I haven't had a vacation in two years, and when I come back, I'll be coming back to full-on walk season. So, it's time to live in the moment (advice E gave me just yesterday) and that's what I plan to do.

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.