I hope that all of my Momma friends had wonderful Mother’s Days, full of all the things that you like to do.
We had a really nice day.
Mea had a friend sleepover, and we had our youngest grandson overnight as well. They were both picked up by 9:30, and we headed over to my sister’s house for brunch shortly after.
I had printed the letter on nice paper and left it in my parent’s car as we were walking into my sister’s. I didn’t want her to turn into a puddle in front of everyone, and I know I would have been bawling too. My sister and I pooled together and bought my Mom a rosebush, and a gift certificate to a favorite restaurant my parents go to when they go out-of-town. Their 41st anniversary was on Monday, and they are headed out-of-town for a few days this afternoon after my Mom’s chemo treatment. (This is the weekly chemo, not the big one. Less side effects on this small treatment.)
They are excited to get away for a few days.
Mack, Mea and I spent a good portion of the afternoon together, playing, and shopping. It was a really nice day.
I had really nice messages from the big girls as well.
The past few days there has been some major drama going on with my youngest step-daughter and the baby’s father. To break it down simply, he borrowed her car, and messed it up. It is going to be costly to fix, and he is not working. I wish that these girls would learn from each other when dealing with their baby daddy drama, but I suppose it is something that they each have to learn for themselves.
Yesterday, the baby had a doctor’s appointment for his six month check-up. Little chunky man is doing well, despite the fact that he has a major cold going on.
While I was waiting for Mea at gymnastics last night, I sent her a text message asking how is appointment went, and if there was any news on what is going on with her car.
Her Mom has been working on getting the car fixed with some mechanic she and her boyfriend usually use. At some point she was talking to E, and her phone cut out so she couldn’t hear her mother, and her mom got pissed off thinking she wasn’t listening and hung up on her, then wouldn’t take her phone calls.
This makes me completely crazy.
These are our adult children. They are not teenagers, they are not children. Now sometimes they may act like it, but still. Then again, we all know how mature their mother can act.
We texted back and forth for the majority of the hour during Mea’s gymnastics class. She talked to me a bit about the drama going on with her baby’s dad, the issue with his mother (another grandma) doing daycare, and him holding daycare over her head if they get into arguments.
I talked her through it a bit, gave her my opinion, and offered to take the baby anytime she needed me to while I am not working. Due to this latest development with the car and the baby’s dad, daycare was going to be an issue for today. We agreed that I would watch him while she worked today, she had missed two days this week because of the car, and the baby not feeling well, in addition to the fact that he told her that she couldn’t bring the baby for daycare.
While Mea and I were in route back home, and stopping for dinner, E posted this on Facebook…
I’m so blessed to have not only one wonderful mom but two… Love you Kelly, thank you so much for being there for me!!
When I get these messages from the big girls, I cannot begin to tell you how happy it makes me. It was a long time coming. It took a lot of love, patience, and time.
This morning she sent me a text stating that her mom called in sick to work so that she could watch the baby, but that she may have me watch him tomorrow.
It is fine.
But at the same time, it is ignorant. I know that her mom took a paid day off from her job because it was going to be me that was watching him.
I sent her a text back saying that I would be happy to watch him if she needed me to.
My husband called a bit ago to see how the baby was doing. When I told him that I didn’t have him, and what I speculated the reason to be with his ex-wife, he reminded me that these reactions to things are part of the reason that she is an ex-wife.
I get it.
I just don’t really understand it. My husband isn’t jealous of her boyfriend of twenty years. He understands that he has been a big part of their lives. She is their mom. I know this. They are also grown-ups, and should be able to have adult relationships with anyone they want to have a relationship.
Sometimes it feels like she is constantly challenging me to some sort of weird better mother duel.
I am ever so thankful that she is not on Facebook. I have a feeling that the messages that I get from the big girls would either not happen, or the meaning and thought behind the messages would get ruined by this woman.
In the meantime, I will continue my internal dialog to myself, saying, “I am the more mature one, I will not do or say anything to ruin the relationship I have worked so hard for with these girls.”
I think I will silently hate her in my head for the rest of my life.
I spent much of the week going from store to store attempting to find the perfect Mother’s Day card. I could not find one that said what I needed it to say, so I thought I would write you a letter in addition to the card I did end up buying.
I would not be the woman I am today without having you here to guide me. You have taught me when to be strong, when to let go, when to stand up for myself, to be independent and to think for myself, and how to be an amazing mother to my own daughters.
We have been through so much, and I am sure that I have tested you in ways you never could have imagined that I would have done. For some of these tests I put you through I am truly sorry, but some of those tests brought us closer together, and created amazingly beautiful things,
You are the matriarch of the family. You are the glue that holds us together. You still settle arguments between sisters, make us kiss and make up, when we might otherwise stew and pout at each other for long lengths of time.
You are the keeper of records, and the one who journals all of our lives events. You are the memory keeper.
You are an amazing Nana, and there are four very lucky girls who are proud to call you their Nana.
You are the woman I aspire to be.
You are the wife, friend and mother that I compare myself to.
You have the strength of ten thousand people, and have the courage of a million others.
I am proud to call you my Mom, and my best friend.
The doctors and nurses called it when they said you are Super Woman, because you really are, in more ways than they could ever know.
I would say that I love you more than you could ever know, but I believe that you do know how much I love you, because you love me exactly the same way.
I hope that you have a wonderful Mother’s Day, and just want you to know just how much I love you.
To the Moon and Back,
I am a card person.
I keep them all. I have shoe boxes full of them.
I can almost always find a card that can say for me what I have been trying to say, or something with a hidden meaning that may only truly be understood by myself and the person that I send it to. Sometimes funny, sometimes serious, sometimes I am drawn to the art on the card, but I can nearly almost always find just the one that I am looking for.
Some of you have even been on the receiving end of my card craziness.
I like to mail cards. Who doesn’t like to get a piece of mail that isn’t junk or a bill in their mailbox? Just a little something that can put a smile on your face, when you hadn’t really felt like smiling. Anymore with emailing, texting, and so many other ways to communicate, it feels like the art of writing a letter is going by the wayside.
For the last three days, I have been trying to find a card for my Mom for Mother’s Day. I have been to four different stores, and have yet to find anything that really says what I want it to say.
There isn’t really a section in the Mother’s Day card section that is specifically for your Mother with terminal cancer. (Someone at Hallmark should get on that.)
I bought one yesterday, but it still doesn’t feel like the card that I want to give her. I have come to the conclusion that I am going to give her the card that I bought, but I am also going to write a letter to go along with it. For her to open later in the day, vs. while we are at my sister’s house for brunch.
I have been pouring over my old posts and there are bits and pieces from many posts that I would like to actually share with my Mom. I am going to take these bits, and turn them into a letter.
My parent’s 41st Anniversary is on Monday. They are going to go out-of-town for a few days after her chemo treatment on Wednesday. My sister and I bought our parents a gift certificate to their favorite restaurant they visit in this town that they are staying in.
At this point, it seems like buying her things that she can use to have fun is a better option than a sweater, or a plant, or jewelry or any other thing.
Adding another memory for my parents, that is something really special.
I have been MIA for a few days. I just haven’t really had much to talk about. I am starting to lose my mind sitting at home all day long every single day. The good news is that it’s starting to get nice outside, so hopefully, I will be able to spend some time in the nice weather.
Let’s get to the thoughts taking up space in my brain.
- I am starting to get on Mea’s nerves.
- She is also starting to get on my nerves.
- Quality time is over.
- I am bored out of my mind.
- I need a job.
- I have another interview set up for next Monday.
- It is promising.
- I just wish that something would/could pan out soon.
- It was my mission to completely wear Mea out after school yesterday.
- I succeeded.
- She played outside for three hours.
- We even did her homework outside.
- When it was time to go in, she made this face at me, and told me that I wasn’t her friend anymore.
- Even when she is “mad” she is super cute.
- So after dinner, I put in Mary Poppins.
- Specifically so that I could prove to Mea how “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious” is said.
- Every time she goes to say it, she somehow adds “Miss Alabama” into it.
- I have no idea why.
- It ends up something like, ‘Supercalimissalabama, Momma, how do I say that one really long word again?”
- She fell asleep before the song came on.
- Which means we will probably have to watch it again so that I can prove to her how the word is said.
- I don’t mind, because I love Poppins.
- Also, let me tell you how thankful I am that Hollywood hadn’t attempted to remake this movie. There are some movies that just should not be remade.
- Mary Poppins is one of them.
- I probably just jinxed it.
- I have been thinking of a dear friend who underwent major surgery on Friday. Take it easy! Let yourself heal! Don’t do too much!
- I made this super delicious Caramel Apple Crisp Pizza on Sunday. So good.
- Cross between apple pie, and apple crisp.
- It was almost too easy to make.
- Sinfully good.
This is all I have.
I hope you all have a Supercalimissalabamafragilisticexpialidocious Day.
I know that the majority of you are not surprised at all by “kids are weird.” They are strange little creatures.
Yesterday, when I picked Mea up from school, she had a neon orange slinky that she had picked from the teacher’s prize box. Every now and then she will come home with some item from the prize box. I don’t really know what they do to earn a trip to the prize box, but she comes home with some sort of tchotchke every other week or so. She has brought home small balls, tattoos, stickers, little containers of bubbles, sticky things, slimy worms, sometimes a gum ball, or a fruit snack.
When we were on our way home, our conversation went some thing like this…
Momma, what should my slinky’s name be? Mr. Slinky or Mrs. Slinky?
Well, is your slinky a boy or a girl?
Hmmm, I think he’s a boy. So I guess he is Mr. Slinky. Mr. Slinky can go stretttcccchhhhhh like this… (She yanks the poor little plastic slinky as far as her arms will stretch.)
Mr. Slinky can make a flower. (I couldn’t see how she made it a flower.)
Mr. Slinky can make a circle. (Obvious, circle shape.)
Mr. Slinky can get stuck in my poofs. (Moves circle shape to the top of her head, and it gets stuck in her hair.)
Mr. Slinky can go in a rainbow. (She makes an arch.)
Mr. Slinky like to bounce. (Grabs it by one end, and shakes it and wiggles it all around.)
What else can Mr. Slinky do? (We had pulled in at home by this point.)
Mr. Slinky likes to eat Doritos!
Mr. Slinky wants a fruit snack!
Mr. Slinky is thirsty!
Mr. Slinky doesn’t have a leotard that fits him, I don’t think he can go to gymnastics naked.
So after Mea told me all the silly things her slinky could do, Mack came home as a surprise. She was going to dinner at my Mom’s, and I had invited her to go to gymnastics with us before dinner.
After much snuggles, and loves on her sissy, she started telling Mack all the incredible things Mr. Slinky could do.
When we got home from gymnastics, her Daddy got an earful of what Mr. Slinky could do as well.
Mr. Slinky was a very busy guy yesterday.
Twenty years ago today, my dear friend lost his baby girl to SIDS.
I was just thinking of little M, of her parents, and how heartbreaking the funeral service was for this little six month old baby girl.
My friend Mike was always a bit of a player. He had more girl friends than anyone I can even think of to this day. When he started dating M’s mom, there was a change in him. Maybe it was that he was getting older, maybe it was time for him to settle down a bit, but I think it had a lot to do with baby M.
He wasn’t her biological father. He started dating M’s mom after she was already pregnant. They hadn’t been dating all together too long when M was born prematurely. If I remember correctly, she was about 12 weeks early. His girlfriend had not had the best pre-natal care. She had just really started taking care of herself, and going to doctors appointments around the time that the baby was born so early.
While M was in the NICU getting strong and learning to breathe and eat on her own, I tried to take her mom under my wing to help prepare her for what was to come when M could come home. Mack was four months old when baby M was born. Mack was a bit of a practice baby for my friend and his girlfriend. She was huge compared to tiny baby M. (Remember that Mack weighed 9 lbs 4 oz, compared to baby M who was barely two pounds, Mack was a giant.) By the time that M was released from the hospital, she was wearing some of the very few newborn things that Mack had worn. I gave them my baby swing, many clothes that Mack had out-grown, and other things that I can’t even remember at this point.
Mack was nine months old when baby M died.
Attending the funeral of a baby, when you have a baby, has got to be one of the most difficult things I have ever done.
Not long after baby M died, Mike and baby M’s mom were expecting again. Before A was born, they had split up, moved to different states, and hated each other. Mike didn’t see his daughter A for years. Not from lack of trying, it was the worst custody battle I had ever seen.
Baby M was only a few months younger than Mack, A is just about two years younger. It was so difficult watching them grieve baby M, and then watching them just being torn apart after the birth of A.
Now, Mike has a beautiful wife, two little girls, one older than Mea, and one about the same age. He has regained a relationship with his oldest daughter.
Today, he posted this on Facebook, and it brought a few tears to my eyes…
The lessons I learned 20 years ago, have taught me to be the parent I am today. Out of great tragedy comes great lessons in life. Don’t take your loved ones for granted because there is no guarantee for a tomorrow. Hold your children and make sure that they know how much you love them. One day I will see you again, but not yet….
Just breaks your heart.