perspective

one month ago today, 26 people were shot and killed in a Connecticut elementary school. 20 of them were children under the age of 7. the school district in the neighboring town to where my 3 cousins attend school. 3 days before that, a mall in our hometown was attacked, where 2 others died.

i have not been the same since.

something changed in me that day. i might say it's a positive change, but somehow you don't want anything positive to come from such a tragedy. or, maybe that's how people get through these events. they take something so horrific, and they find that silver lining that can somehow make sense of it. but, on that morning, when i started to see the headlines a perspective was pounded so deep within me, i see it every day. in the face of my 5 and 7 year old children. 

i can do anything as long as my children are safe. i can get through anything as long as my children are alive and healthy. nothing should seem hard so long as i'm not grieving the loss of my small child. these thoughts pour through my mind each and every day. at 11:30 at night when i'm hunched over my laptop getting some work done, or at 5 pm when i'm exhausted and parked on the freeway that hasn't moved in 5 minutes, at 8:15 at night when i think i can't possible stay awake long enough to get my kids to bed. at 2pm on a sunday, when i'm wondering how many times more I'll be able to tell my grandparents i love them.

the level at which this event has affected me cannot be explained in words. and knowing this, I cannot imagine how the deep pain the parents of those 20 small children must feel. one evening after scrolling through the names and ages of each child on the internet i fell to my knees in the middle of the kitchen with a feeling so powerful and overwhelming I could no longer stand. the story is one that's hard to believe. and even today, as i think about it my first instinct is that it is only a bad dream. i must have dreamt it. something so horrible could never happy in my lifetime. 

and then reality sets in, and when it does my body naturally goes searching for my kids. who i embrace, and squeeze, and maybe even scare a little as they wonder why mommy hugs them so hard with tears in her eyes. 

this weekend, I spent the majority of my time at fort vancouver convalescent home where my grandmother is (prayers prayers prayers) staying temporarily. both her and my grandfather have suffered some serious medical complications in the past weeks and as my family comes together to help them through this time i'm reminded of what is so important in life. it's only the people we share it with. these people are gifts to us. our family, our friends, our children. gifts. gifts that are not promised to us forever.  my family is clinging to each other during this time. hugs are longer, more words are said, closure is made on issues unimportant. 

a month ago if someone asked me, 'what's up?' I may have said. 'oh man, i'm so busy. work work work, kids kids kids, i have no food in the house and the laundry is piled in the laundry room! my moldings are half complete and some are ripped off the walls, the garage is a MESS, and the car needs servicing. i maybe have thought to myself, 'i never brought in those plants from the yard this winter', and 'crap, that water bill is still left un-paid'. but today, i could really care less about all of that. honest to god, who cares.

i sat with my grandmother at dinner last night in a dining hall full of wheel chairs. my sister, my aunt and myself squeezed our chairs around the small two person table my grandmother was sharing with leota kyle. leota, a recent heart attack victim who was having rehabilitation therapy for the coming 3 weeks. leota was busy poking at her pureed food, and trying to pour her thick buttermilk onto her tray when she said, 'every time i ask for regular milk, and all they do is bring me this crap'. we laughed and asked if we were crowding her. 'oh no!', she said, 'i welcome the company'. so we talked.

the two old ladies asked each other what they 'were in for' as if they were serving time at the county jail. they shared health stories and then deep dived into the important stuff. 'tell me about your family'. the two of them talked about their children, their grandchildren, their great grand-children. they talked about their husbands and how many years they'd been married.

it was interesting to me, that at 78 and 82 these people talked only about the people in their lives. there were was no mention of jobs, or where they lived, how successful they were or weren't. no talk of what kind of house they lived in, what kind of car they drove. it's the people at the end of the day that matter and mean anything at all. it was profound. 

i looked around the room at all the people sitting alone and felt sadness. betty lou in the corner, who we'd invited to grandma's birthday party the day prior was causing a ruckus at the dinner table. she asked, 'my family, what if they never come?' and here, my grandmother with her daughter and two granddaughters was the richest of all. 

so today, when someone said, 'how are you?' my answer was not 'tired, or busy', it was 'i'm great, yesterday i was able to spend the entire day visiting with my 82 year grandmother. today, both kids bounced out of bed with their two healthy bodies, and i came to work to a job that has supported me and my family all these years. 

i have such an amazing family that sometimes i'm overcome by it. we have so much fun together, and laugh and even in the toughest situations support each other. sometimes pulling from the depths of our beings to provide it. none of us are perfect, and we all have our individual struggles and worries. we are all tired with the stress of the last few weeks, but it's from the giving to each other. the gifts that hopefully one day, when I'm rolling myself into a dining hall of strangers i'll get to share. in the same proud and super brave way my grandmother did last night. after dinner, as we waited for the wheelchair traffic jam to clear in the hallway she looked at me and sort of laughed. after her stroke she's still struggling to string a sentence all the way together but i know what she said was this; 'i can't believe that i'm here. that i'm old enough to be here'. i said, 'it must be so surreal.' because at the young age of 34 (in her eyes) you begin to realize that although the years tick by, the person you are on the inside never changes. she looked at me with a tear in her eye and nodded, 'yes, yes it is.'

for a brief moment, i put myself in her shoes (or, her slippers) and was given a gift, such a gift of perspective. and with that I say, my new years 'motto' which is to live each day just one minute at a time. let the mood of the day not be tainted by a bad moment, soak it up, hug the people you love, do for others, and always be kind as everyone is fighting a hard battle. 

dear 5 year old Ian,

i'm writing this to you now when your 5 because, i think it's my favorite age. now, i'm pretty sure i said that when you were 1, and 2, and 3 and 4. well maybe not 3, but definitely the others. it's the age i find myself staring at you just as i did alex at 5...with wonder, with hope, with happiness. sometimes with frustration. your little personality is shining through. you're 'figuring it out'. you need me, but not as much. you're not a baby, but you constantly remind us we aren't done parenting. not by a long shot. you challenge us, you make us laugh, and at least once a day cause your dad and i too look at each other with a mutual look of acknowledgement of just how much we love you. 

i figure, someday when you are reading more than just long vowels you'll read this and wonder what you were like at 5. so here goes.

yesterday was a really super day for mommy. you've been having a lot of anger and frustration lately and it's left me nervous that we are doing something wrong. we've been talking with your teacher and your after school daycare counselor about your crazy energy and silliness. focusing in class is not super easy for you at 5. sometimes i feel guilty that i chose to put you in full day kindergarten before you were ready. sometimes i feel guilty that i can't be home after school for you to come home to after school. when you and alex tell me you're sad i have to work. i feel guilty.

i know your tired. i know that school is a big transition and creates a lot of expectations. your dad and i have been working on ways to keep your attention and reward you positively. we've been trying to build your confidence at school so you enjoy it more. yesterday, your teacher sent me an email that you've asked me to read to you over and over again. 

it said,

Ian is a rockstar reader!  He read long vowel words to me today!  He said that he was trying hard in all of his work - and he is right!  

He has also been a good listener and not being silly.  I am so impressed with his work.

Mrs. Kolb

when you came running through the door after school screaming, 'did you get the email mom? did you get the email?' my heart melted. you may have been more proud than your dad and i. and that's saying a lot and maybe even impossible.

i love 5. i love that you sneak into our bed at 4 am so we can snuggle. i love that your dad pretends to be annoyed, but really isn't. i love how you're so good at angry birds and mariokart. i love that you are learning to read. i love that you'll go shoot hoops underhand for hours and always say 'good job' when someone else makes a shot. i love that you compliment our neighbors on their 'cool christmas lights'. i love how you bop your head to music in the car and pretend to sing along but not so loud than anyone can hear. i love how you always get mixed up on your favorite sports teams which are really your dad's favorite sports teams and say your favorite baseball team is the bears. i love how your dad always smiles and follows up with, 'red sox buddy'. 

i don't like that your getting too big for me to hold. i try anyway, and it usually results in a sore back or pinched neck. i don't like that i have to shop in the big boys clothes for you now, and that your starting to have an opinion on what you wear. i don't like that your dad cut your hair too short and look even older than you are. i don't like that most days i only have 2 short hours to spend with you. i don't like that each day that passes, you'll only get older than the last. 

love you my ian bian.
mommy

today.

my new years motto: 'live today, one minute at a time.'

achieving this for me, is actually worse than vowing to workout more, or picking up that wine bottle a little less. 

i have this nasty habit of living in both the past and the future. i don't blog because i'm so far behind, or i spend time in my day planning the future. i'm about to admit a sick and twisted fact about myself. i don't just balance my checkbook. i balance it's future too. yes. i like to know our financial situation not now, or for tomorrow or til the end of the month. i also like to know what it might look like in august 2014. sick, i know. but i'm a planner. and it's good in many ways. it keeps our lives organized, it keeps our social calendar just the right amount of full, and it keeps our life together. and a life with two jobs and two kids can be challenging. however, it prevents me from enjoying the now. 

so, in the spirit of living today i post my first photos on my now photo-less blog. just because. not because they are wrapping up any events in the past i have yet to write about. but because just now, i took a break at work to look at pictures of my kids. because i miss them when i'm here.

This photo just captures Ian. He lives every moment to the fullest. And usually with a smile.

My sweet girl.

Alex learned to ride her bike ALAS! And Ian is not far behind.

listening to music, wearing teeny bopper clothes

Ian's first Blazer game with dad

I'm so blessed to have such happy kids with sense of humor's for days

my beautiful sister and her fiance

 

Christmas Morning

Christmas Morning

Tree hunting with style

Thankful to have had Donna & Lauren for Thanksgiving this year

Hermione & Harry Potter for Halloween!

Ian completes his first season of organized sports and does it smashingly

loves.

an idea, a novel. a novel idea.

for months, i've been ignoring this blog for a number of reasons.

• due to a horrible clerical error, i managed to delete all photos i've ever posted to this blog. and being the perfectionist that i am i haven't been able to bear the thought of adding content to something so imperfect.
• i'm so far behind in documenting the happenings of our life, i've figured 'why start now? and what's the point?'
• it's sometimes just another nagging 'to do' in the long list of 'to do's' in my life

i come here, to this place following three simultaneous moments of clarity. first, sean and i were given a wonderful gift last week and were able to take our first vacation sans kids to the beautiful island of kauai. my dear mother in law graciously flew out and watched our kids for SEVEN DAYS. i've returned feeling rested, rejuvenated, and re-set which has me feeling both motivated and scarily determined to accomplish this that and everything on my mental 'to do' list. now, it's december so this list is cluttered with christmas cards, gift buying, tree trimming, and cookie baking but why stop there...

i'm going to go backwards and start with the most recent 'ah ha' moment which happened just moments ago. i'd semi successfully gotten the kids to bed, and was leaning up against the wall in our hallway awaiting my kids imminent exits from their rooms. these occur nightly as all you parents know, which include complaints of being scared, needing water, or needing assistance with that pesky hangnail that is preventing them from going to sleep. i thumbed through my facebook news feed to find a blog writer i follow 'gluten free girl' had written a new post. this post, as i scrolled through had me quickly standing from my slumped position and reading faster, soaking in her words like you would those of your therapist. as if each word was going to change your life for the better.

she says, 'The voice I’m having a harder time quieting these days is the one that says, “Do more. Put it on Pinterest. Answer every email. Address every question. Be bigger and brighter and have more readers. Earn more money. Do it on time. Go.”

i put a lot of pressure on myself in my life. we all do. and i think women/mother's especially. we want to be the best moms of the best kids. we want our kids involved in activities, the more the better! we want to do well in our careers and appear super human. we want to document our lives and proclaim it to the world like, 'look what i can do!' we facebook, we pinterest all the things we want to do but could not possibly find the time for. we volunteer in our kids classrooms, we keep a nice house. we want to feed our kids healthy meals and in non-toxic serve wear. we want our homes to look like a crate and barrel catalog, with just a touch of rummage sale. we want to appear perfect.

the fact of the matter is, these child rearing years are HARD. the fact of the matter is, on a friday night when i get home from work my house looks like a bomb hit it. there is no clean laundry in sight and the fridge is bare. the fact of the matter is, we can't possible do it all. and when we can't, we see failure. i always see failure. i see balls dropping. i get calls from the water company that my bill is un-paid and i wonder, 'where is the bill?' i send the kids to school without their homework, and without their library books. i juggle work, i juggle kids, i make every attempt in the world to try and workout and be fit which works out 1 in 10 attempts, i try to be a good mom and wife but what ends up happening is a sore back from picking up the balls scattered all over the floor.

women want to be liked, they want to be appreciated, and they want to be admired and i truly believe it has the majority of us spinning in circles in this invisible competition of 'who's doing more, and who's doing it better'. it's a load of crap. 

my gluten free blogger says, 'The truth is that we don’t need everyone to like us, we need a few people to love us. Because what’s better than being roundly liked is being fully known—an impossibility both professionally and personally if you’re so busy being likable that you forget to be yourself'. 

it's so true. 

the fact is, i am loved. i am loved by a wonderful man who cares not what i do but loves who i am.  who probably appreciates my sense of humor more than the organic food i try to make. or appreciates what i do for our children, and not what i haven't gotten to yet. i have wonderful friends. one of which this week (and is reason #2 that i'm back here) said to me, 'your blog is not perfect, and you lost all your photos, but you did not lose your words. and that is the important stuff'. and my family, my wonderful family loves me and knows me and gets me. the whole jumbled mess of me. the good and the bad.

the 3rd and final reason that i'm here, is due to an impromptu nintendo playing frenzy i encountered this week after a long and tiring day of work. being one of the busiest days of my work month, i came home feeling quite depleted and defeated. i was sulking, and in one of those, 'i'm failing everywhere' moods when ian handed me the controller and said, 'mom, i can't pass this level can you help?'

and i began to play.

i was lost in super mario land when i heard their cheers. they were jumping and clapping and screaming 'go mom, you are the super mario king!' i felt like a hero. i am their hero and it's not because i went out of my way to place the 'elf on the shelf' in new and creative places each day this month. and it's not because i had just made them a 4 course healthful dinner and passed them their vitamins, it's not because i 'pinned' all sorts of holiday craft projects for us to do together, and it's not because most ever minute of every day i spend either working for their future, or thinking about their future. i mean, i had done all that but it's not what mattered. i defeated bowser and passed the castle in world 1. 

my blogger goes on to say, 'I was a lifelong perfectionist who couldn’t enjoy most moments because I was so worried they weren’t good enough. I wanted to please, to be the best, to be the funniest. Somehow I have forgotten about what I want.' 

she later says 'what i want is to accept the warm rays of the sun'.

and that is why i am here today. because believe it or not, with all the things there are to do in life. this, this blog is something i love. and it's not because i want to document every aspect of my kids life, or our life. and it's not because i want to show or prove that i can be super mom and super career woman, super wife and friend. it's because i genuinely like writing. for a girl who crunches numbers all day and finds no soul filling satisfaction from that, this blog brings me joy. it's like a ray of sunlight.

so, i've broken the ice. i hope to bring more words here, and eventually after my wounds have healed, maybe some more pictures. and i do this for nobody but myself, and not to be perfect but to be me. 

I can't even believe it. still.

so, last week. in a rush. I decided to upload some of the kids pictures from their first soccer game. I was 'click click clicking', paying a bill in one window, uploading photos in another, checking my facebook on another, and ordering some swimsuits online on yet another.  in my normal frenzy, i was doing too many things at once.

and I screwed up big.

i deleted some file that held and stored all the photos posted to my blog and now they are gone. forever.

when i realized what happened, and did the proper research to believe that really truly they were gone and my blog was dead and the world might as well end i clicked 'close' and haven't been back since.

so today i took a peek and they still aren't there.

and i'm not sure what to do.

i don't know if i should ignore it and never come back. one day when my kids are 14 and 16 maybe I'll send them the link telepathically because by then, there won't be phones or computers, we will just have to think things and they will happen. they can read it if they want, or not. then i'll watch them (on the built in camera's all kids will have surgically embedded in their frontal lobes by then) tell their friends how both lame and stupid their mom is for a)worrying about a blog and b)accidentally deleting all the photos of their childhood.

or, i come up with some sort of plan to find them all on my old computer, new computer, and various external hard drives laying around and eventually someday upload them. all WHILE, catching up on the last 6 months I haven't written about.

sigh.

so for anyone that comes here. and you wonder what those big black boxes are with the nasty exclamation mark proclaiming, 'carrie, you are a royal idiot' and 'why did you push OK, when you should have pushed CANCEL?' that's the story.

i may be back, i may not. after i work through my feelings of loss and despair i may lift myself up by my bootstraps and keep on keepin' on.

until then, black boxes of stupid pronunciations. you are dead to me.

funnies.

it's been awhile since i've posted some funnies. and maybe they aren't really funny, and i'm just a sleep deprived hag that would laugh if your 5 year old spilled a gallon of orange juice all over your just cleaned kitchen floor.

oh wait, that really happened.

most of what happens in our house these days, is not funny. the mornings are spent frantically rushing around to get us all out the door with all the right things. mom and dad need their coffee, kids need their lunches and camp gear, and sunscreen on their faces. dog needs food, water, and his bed drug into the laundry room where he resides when we are gone to prevent the chomping of alex's last remaining barbies that actually still have heads and arms. 

then we go to work. and we do what we do there.

then i get home at 6, and start the drill sergeant routine of bossing the kids around to drag the dog's bed to where it belongs, feed him once again, put their shoes and backpacks away, and throw their lunches in the sink. dinner's made, baths are had, stories are read and we all dump ourselves into bed.

not a lot of time for funny. so maybe i hold on to the funny that happens at inopportune times when you aren't expecting the funny. maybe i make funny out of the not so funny. 

luckily or unluckily, i have a nice long commute that a) gives me 45 minutes of 'me time' before i pick up the kids and then another 30 of 'quality time' jibber jabbing with them on the way home about their day and answering ian's 1 trillion questions that he's apparently been harboring all. day. long.

'mom, i'd like to talk about god. is she pretty as you? and was she the first human alive in the universe?'

before i have a chance to answer, he's moved on to the next...

'mom, if the sun fell down would it always be the night?'

'mom, do you think bee's are scary? do they know they sting you or is it an accident? what if we had a bee for a pet? can we get a turtle?'

and as we pass mcdonald's each day, and I come up with yet another excuse WHY WE CANNOT STOP (albeit the quick and easy option) conversations as follows occur:

Ian: 'Can we go to McDonalds?'
Me: (silence)
Ian: 'I want a new mom'
Me: 'we can go to Safeway and get you a new one'
Ian: 'I guess I'll just keep you'
Alex: 'AWKWARD'

or

Ian: 'Mom, is Sunriver in India and can I take my water gun on the airplane?'

(Sunriver is a three hour drive from our house)

and sometimes it's laughter as opposed to crying as the two fight over their respective art projects, ask for snacks i do not have, proclaiming out of fatigue and car boredom that they 'hate their lives' or 'are proud of nobody'. Or, when I almost get run off the road by an impaired driver, get sprayed by a sprinkler (while inside my car), and spill a large diet coke on my lap on a day i cave at the mcdonald's request.

ian, since he was 2, and we made that impeccably irresponsible decision to move him from his crib to a 'big boy bed', has been teetering on the edge of either cracking us up at bedtime, or driving us madly insane. 

one night, rather than sleeping he came to the top of the stairs to tell us the following in an effort to stay up:

1. Dad, you smell like rotting tomatoes
2. Mom, my wall broke
3. It smells like dog food in my room
4. My blankets are too heavy on my bruise

other complaints arise regarding non-existent slivers, dying of thirst, and being concerned that he hasn't yet read all the books on his bookshelf. between these stairway visits, we hear sounds that have sean and i wondering if there are 12 construction men upstairs tearing down walls. he tears his room apart, has pillow fights with himself, and talks and sings until ultimately, he ends up falling asleep (rarely on his own bed) and can be found most often on his floor on a pile of blankets and toys, or in our bed. 

recently, while on vacation he told his pop that he must be 'really really really really old' and asked his gramma if she really retired, or was she just fired? the brutally honest observations of a 5 year old....

in other news, his pathological lying has somewhat waned and we believe that all the google searches of 'everything my 5 year old says is a lie' were correct in that it is a normal stage of development and ensures our youngster has an incredible imagination and that we should feel confident he's maturing normally. 

if nothing else he's extremely modest like his father, and would never go outside in his skivvies wearing nothing but a bike helmet and tennis shoes.

oh wait...

five.

i thought i was going un-noticed. that my lack of blogging would just disappear into cyber land and nobody would know I had left. but when i traveled east last week to see sean's amazing family, i realized that i was wrong. i have a few loyal followers who even though months have passed, check for updates each day and in a very nice and not pushy way, called me out.


so, i figure there is some catching up to do. and i have many stories to tell, but first there is an important person to discuss...

ian.


my ian turned 5 last month, and even still i have to look at the ceiling and blink a few times to avoid tearing up. my baby. discussing the fact he's going to kindergarten this year, cannot even be a topic of discussion in our house. and the fact that i found so much joy in holding his giant, long body in the airport last night while he slept in my throbbing arms is a topic better suited for a therapist I suppose. 


there is something about 5. you come to terms when your kids turn 2, that they aren't a baby anymore. then 3 and 4, they are still so little. at 5, something changes. they have ideas and thoughts, and big questions. they don't need you as much in the ways that have become so normal over the years. they get dressed and brush their teeth on their own, and can open the fridge and help themselves to a snack. there is no surprise that society deemed this the age kids can go off to school and leave the arms of their mommies to learn and become smart, and grown-ups. sigh.


the last 5 years have flown by. i think about alex the day he was born. how much she has changed. i think about the week following his birth which held so much fear and uncertainty. i think about how much he's grown and how much he has stayed the same. and i think about what our life would be without him. we were a family when we had alex, but now we are so much more.


this week, we were at an amusement park and the kids had just finished a ride. upon getting off they couldn't find me right away. alex grabbed ian's hand and pulled him close looking frantically all around for me. i saw her turn to him, and assure him that mom was close and to stick with her. he looked at her with the most genuine look of trust and smiled. and the tears well up again...


as we were waiting for our flight home last night (trip posts to follow), and i held him as he slept, a family of 7 came and sat near us. i watched the siblings fighting over a bag of cheetos from the vending machine. i saw the mother struggling with bags and looking exhausted. it's these moments where my heart splits in two in my want for a larger family and the fear of what that would mean for us. i saw her pull out a giant bag of pill bottles and rest them on her lap, she slouched back in her chair and let out a deep sigh. i glanced to the father also looking exhausted while trying to care for all the kids and that's when i saw their middle son.


he was bald from chemotherapy, and had a 'make a wish foundation' necklace around his neck. he carried his many souvenirs from disney world with a giant smile on his face. he sat next to his mother and put his hand on her back and he smiled and said, 'tired mom?' 

at that moment, i thanked god for the health of my kids. parents talk about the struggles of parenthood, and the fatigue of sleep deprivation. they talk about the balance of work and home life. they discuss the best diet for their children, and the trendy toys of the year, they want the best for their children. the best schools, the best life, the best programs and activities and i'm guilty of all of this. but in that one moment, all i wanted was for the continued health of these two amazing kids in my life.


like those mornings after one too many glasses of wine when you proclaim, 'i'm never drinking again!' i vowed, (as i have before) to never take the health of my family for granted again. not ever.


so on ian's 5th birthday, i'm so thankful for the last 5 years and i'm so hopeful that he'll have 100 more. he is a bright, caring, LOUD AND BOISTEROUS love who cares immensely for his sister and LOVE LOVE LOVES his momma (and dad) and has the best one liners!


this year, despite the struggle to get everyone together on his birthday (the 4th of july holiday sends so many out of town) i decided, it was his year for a smashing party and he chose superhero theme (i'll post pics of the party shortly) i made him part of the planning, asking his opinion on 'this and that', showing him pictures on pinterest on possible cake ideas. he looked forward to this day for weeks.

this year, he's so big, and SO OLD we got him a set of golf clubs so that one day, he can buy his momma a great big house and an Audi TT from winning the PGA tour. this kid has a swing that will blow your mind and a smile that will melt your heart.