Funny Story

I told a funny story today. A story I have told a number of times in the last six months. A story that never fails to make me laugh; sometimes from discomfort, other times from the sheer  absurdity of it all.

Mr. P’s friend’s father announced that congratulations were in order.


I knew this was coming but it’s something that, for some reason, I find incredibly awkward to talk about.

At the time of Nathan’s accident My two boys attended the same school. Everyone was wonderful and supportive and helpful. And because it was such a public tragedy I never had to explain our situation.

Then mister P moved schools.

This means in a single conversation I’ve explained how I was widowed, am now remarried, and, yes, I am pregnant with my fourth boy! Oh, and did I mention that my new husband is also my brother-in-law? Yes, my kids do occasionally call my husband uncle-daddy!

Like I said, it’s complicated.

But also lovely.

And Preston’s friend’s dad? He said he thought it was pretty cool.

Thanks for being awesome.



The Abyss

I’m not going to lie, things are rough right now.  I’ve always been a little anxious but this is a new feeling.  Being on the edge of sanity and staring out over the abyss.  I’m teetering and it’s frightening.


I write blog posts in my head ALL. THE. TIME. My mind is constantly buzzing with strange thoughts and feelings that I know would make more sense if I wrote them down. Unfortunately, by the time children are down for the night and my evening checklist is complete I find my mind void of anything to write at all.

Now, if I could only find that list of ideas buzzing in my head earlier…

Right. Left.

“Beep! Beep! Beep!” I roll over and hit snooze on the alarm.  Joshua comes in dragging his star blankie.

“Moooom.  Can I sleep with you?” he asks.

“Sure,” I say and roll over to make room for him.

“Beep! Beep! Beep!” The alarm blares again.

“I want to turn it off!” Josh announces and hits the snooze button again.

“Beep! Beep! Beep!” it sounds once more. I roll over and turn it off once and for all but continue to lay there.  I’m exhausted despite the sleeping pill and full 8 hours of sleep I’ve had.  I feel dark and lonely and sad.

Time passes.  I don’t know how much exactly but I feel like we really should be getting up.

“Joshy, it’s time to get ready for school,” I whisper.

“NO!” is his immediate reply.

I roll over.  “I don’t really want to get up either,” I think.

Finally I look at the clock.  Oh yes.  We really must get up or we all will be late.

I roll out of bed and Joshy comes too.  I look out the window.  It’s gray and dismal, just like my mood.

I race around the house trying to get everything ready.  I get Josh dressed.  I dress Wyatt too because he’s taking too long.  All of the bread is in the freezer so it’s cereal for everyone. (Thank goodness because toast takes longer.)  I’m just so stressed about something but I’m not quite sure what it is.

Rush. RUsh. RUSH.  Run. RUn. RUN.  Ugh.  The older two are going to be tardy.  I yell and then I feel horrible.

We all jump in the car. We’re going to make it.  I drive them to school and drop them off.  No time to walk Wyatt to class.  I hate that.  Then we are off to pick up a cousin so they can go to preschool.

Preschool drop-off goes well. No hiccups. I rush back to the car.  Why am I rushing?  It’s that stress.  It makes me feel like I need to hurry but I don’t know why.  I race to Target for a couple of things then head home.

“I need to go for a run,” I think.  It will help.  But I don’t want to run.  I want to curl up in bed and cry.  “That means you need to run!” I think more sternly to myself.  I arrive home and walk straight to my room.  I pull out some leggings, a sports bra, a long sleeve shirt and a fleece headband.  I undress in the cold of my bedroom.  At least my shoes feel sunny.  Over the weekend I went to Big 5 with Pres to get him so Futsal shoes and found the perfect pair of running shoes for me. Bright purple to match my hair.

I lace up and head for the door.  I hesitate for a moment.

“I don’t really want to go.  It’s cold out there,” I think.
“Go,” something whispers from deep within and I know it’s right.  I strap on my armband and go.

“Right. Left. Right. Left. Right. Left.”  My feet say. I quickly find my rhythm. It’s slow and steady but it is forward.

“Right. Left. Right. Left. Right. Left,” becomes my mantra.  Just keep going.  Keep moving forward.  Soon I’m warm all over. My purple braids are bouncing, keeping rhythm with a new song playing through my headphones.

Before I know it I’m back home.  Three miles down in the blink of an eye.  I’m sweaty AND I’m stinky but I’m also smiling.  That’s something worth running for.


Me, my purple shoes and a kick ass playlist

The Upside Down



Losing someone very close to you feels like you are living in a parallel universe.  Everyone around you is traveling along as usual and there you are trying to figure out why everything, and I mean everything, feels wrong.  Sure, your surroundings look the same but they feel different.

It reminds me “the Upside Down” in “Stranger Things.”  Physically everything around you is the same but it all feels awful.  The colors are off.  The sounds are wrong.  Everything tastes bland.  Your existence is wrong.  And you look around wondering how everyone else can pretend that things are right.

After my dad died I remember things being off for a while.  When my nephew drowned things were wrong for a long time.  But this, losing Nate, it’s a whole other entity.  My life revolved around my husband.  Everything I did, or wanted to do, I wanted to do with him.  Coming to grips with this life altering change is going to take time.   A LOT of time.

I’m now 8 months into this parallel journey.  8 months since I heard his voice.  8 months since I held his hand.  8 months without the person I loved more than life itself.  It’s been a rough journey but I have to say I am beginning to feel flickers of hope.  I have the desire to find joy again.

I am most certainly still riding the ebb and flow of grief.  There are still long periods where I can’t see past the pain but then it breaks, even if only for a moment, and I can see beauty again.  Someday  I hope to live where the sun shines again but for now I’ll keep walking towards the tiny stream of light shining through the forrest.  The important thing is that I’m still moving.  I’m still going, one step at a time.


I Keep Myself Busy


I’m 3.5 months in to this nightmare and I still feel like I can’t really wrap my mind around what happened. I find myself staring pictures of him and noticing all the reasons it can’t be true. But he’s so big. He’s so strong. He’s right there. He’s right here in this picture I took not that long ago. He’s smiling that sweet, smirky smile.

I’ve been trying to fill my life with distractions. Anything to keep my mind from fixating on my new reality. I feel like I’m doing a pretty good job but then night comes. It’s getting easier but there’s a long way to go before I enjoy my solo evenings again.

I used to look  forward to the quiet of night. Even if my love was going to be working I enjoyed the peace of night. Now I fill it with noise. I’m happy to have a break from my mothering duties but my world feels empty. I so long for the comfort of the love of my life. I long for my tv companion. What I’d give to have my bed companion.

I miss our long talks. I miss his warm strong body. I miss his soft green/brown eyes. I miss his mirthful smile. I miss his big hands holding mine. I miss his love and comfort.

I miss my love.



Solo Theaters

Before I was married I most often went to the movies alone.  I had decided it was less stressful to go alone.  Why? Because I wasn’t going to let anyone down.  When I invited a friend to the cinema I felt responsible if it was a bad choice.  I felt like I wasted their money. Plus others often influenced how I felt about the film.  If I knew they hated it it tainted my enjoyment.

In my late teens  I saw all the movies that came out.  I watched 2-3 movies a week.  I had my solo routine.  I’d go to Chili’s, which was located next to the theaters, order chicken enchilada soup and salad and read a book then go to my movie.  It was so very enjoyable.

Sometimes I would go with a friend or a boyfriend but mostly it was alone.

After I got married I never went alone.  Mostly because I couldn’t stand being apart from my man.  Yes, I was one of those incredibly codependent people who wants to spend every waking moment with their lover.  That was me.  You should have known him.  He was that great.  I hated the idea of seeing a movie and not being able to discuss every minuet detail with him.

This past December I saw my first solo movie since before I was married and it was great.  It was something I knew my lover wouldn’t like and I knew he’d ruin it for me by analyzing it even though it wasn’t an analyze worthy movie.  I saw my movie then went to Thai food alone and read “A Christmas Carol.”  It was a delight.

I’ve been having a hard day.  I miss my love so much.  People keep asking if it’s getting better and the answer is a big, fat no.  Honestly, it’s worse now then it was the first month.  I was still in shock and not at all processing what happened.  Now it’s hitting me like a freight train.  Some days my mind refuses to accept it and some days I can only see despair because I’m grasping my new reality.

Today has been hard.  The kids are off for summer break and my happy ending of knowing the love of my life will be home at the end of a hard day is no more.  I have nothing to look forward to.  I get through because I have to not because I want to.

And then, like a tiny gift, the movies popped in my head.  My mom and mother-in-law have been taking the kids once a week and it’s been an incredibly important reprieve but I haven’t had anything especially exciting to do or look forward to until today.

I’m going to go to the movies again.  Solo.  Like old times.  Well, sort of.

It Can’t Be

I don’t even know where to begin. I’ve written this post in my head many times but how can I begin to explain how upside down my world has become?

My very best friend, the love of my life, my favorite confidante, the father of my children, my lover and the person who made life worth living died. In March he was hit by an SUV at work in a snowstorm and he died the next day.

I’m living a nightmare. Each night I go to sleep and wake-up wishing I could go back to sleep. I don’t want to go on. Not without him. I spend my days muttering “it can’t be true. Not my love.” I will go on because I have three small boys and I have to but I don’t want to.

I had everything I wanted in life. I was happy. I had my own struggles, like we all do, but I was living the life I had always dreamed of. I worked hard at being content with what we had. When we had extra we tried to help others. We worked hard at having a happy marriage. We were so happy. So very happy. I loved him with my heart, body and soul and he loved me in return.

Oh God. How do you move on when all you want to do is go back.

I want my happy life back.

We’ll See

Mean-mom2Every mom has some word, phrase and or statement that their kids loath. Mine right now happens to be “we’ll see.”

When I was a kid I swore I wouldn’t do this. I did not want to “put my kids off” with an indefinite answer to anything. As a mom I would make my kids happy all. the. time.

Then motherhood happens.

It’s not that I don’t want to say yes. Honestly, I want to say yes to everything fun.

“Can we go to the park?” Yes!

“Can we paint today?” Yes!

“Can we play hide-n-seek?” Yes!

“Can we go to nana’s house?” Yes!

“Can we have a bubble bath?” Yes!

“Can we go to the library?” Yes!

“Can we make cookies?” Yes!

“Can we play baseball, football, soccer, handball, four square, monopoly, sneaky snacky squirrel, and battleship today?” Uh…We’ll see.

You see, it’s not that I don’t want to do these things. I honestly do. But there is only so much time in a day and I still have to be the mom and make meals, clean the house, do the laundry etc. Some days I put these things off and just play but some days you do have to get some shit done!

Plus, I’ve learned that with my kids it doesn’t matter how many fun things we did that day, if I said we could do something and it didn’t happen, even if we put that thing off so we could do something more fun, then they will be upset, I’m mean, and the day was horrible.

So, “we’ll see” it is.

And when my kids say, “I’ll never say that to my kids when I grow up!” I’ll smile and say, “We’ll see.”

Becoming Instead of Wanting

Wanting to be something and being that thing are two very different things.  I want to be so many things.  I want to be good becomingand kind and selfless.  I want to be intelligent and thoughtful and gentle.  I want to serve and to teach my children to serve.  I want, desperately, to be all of these things but am I really any of them?  Not really.  Am I some of them sometimes?  Maybe.  My one question for myself is why?

What is the difference between someone who wants something and someone who has achieved it?  The first thing that comes to mind is action.  Obviously I am over-simplifying but for many things in life that is the main difference.  What do I need to do to achieve what I really, truly want?  I need to act.  I need to find ways, small or large, to step instead of think.  I need a plan of action and to implement my plan of action.

I don’t want to just want to make the world a better place.  I want to actually make the world a better place in every way that I can.