Weary

There's something about this time of year or about the weather, not sure which it is for certain but I get so bone-weary. And after barely doing anything at all. I never used to be this way, I dread, completely dread the winter after Christmas. I liken it to a walk to the plank on a pirate ship. You know its coming, the weight of it feels unbearably heavy, and its unstoppable. I sincerely hate feeling this depressed and cynical but its almost like my body knows what time of year it is and goes into this shut-down mode. I'm really getting tired of it.

Where Anger Lives

I recently had a conversation that took a turn I had not expected. It started out as any other mundane, ordinary conversation and suddenly veered off the county road onto the super-highway of intense emotions and raw nerves.

I don't like to have conversations where I'm surprised by the emotional impact behind them. If I know that someone is going to have a "heavy talk" with me, I mentally prepare myself. But when its sprung on me, I always know I am going to sabotage the event with my reactionary comments. Simply put, I do not handle emotions well. I tend to go to extremes, either extremely angry (and you know I'm angry), or very very quiet. I haven't mastered the in-between, and I though I've tried, I feel I just have a very quick temper.

I left feeling angry, empty and just confused. Wondering how long this person had kept these things to them before letting it boil to the surface. And then I looked at myself, and wondered why I had such intense reactions to this. What triggered my defensive and angry mechanisms?

I decided after thinking and wondering, talking out loud while doing laundry, I just need to find where my anger lives in me. Once I deal with that I hope I can help myself understand why I get so upset over certain things, or at least know how to avoid them. Sometimes I wonder if I can fix it at all....

Kory

I take for granted many things. Like when I'm out of milk, its easy to run into town and pick it up at a moment's convenience. I assume when I need gas, the pump will fill that demand. I count on the fact that when my sons need new shoes or clothes or whatever it is they have outgrown this week, we have the resources to provide for them. I take all this for granted and forget to thank the most wonderful man that is 90% responsible for this life we have.

When Kory and I met, it wasn't really supposed to happen. He was supposed to work one part of the day and I was supposed to work another, and a mix-up in HR put us both together on the same hours. I had recently broken up with someone I sacrificed too much of myself to please and swore I was not going to give in for what I wanted in a partner again. No matter who was next, I was going to just have fun and go in without expectations.

Whether you call it odd, fate, coincidence, or karma, Kory fit all of those things I was looking for in my life. It was easy to be easy with him.

When we had our first son, Michael; I was a nervous wreck. I was so afraid Kory would never know what to do, how to feed him, what to do when changing him. I envisioned the movie Three Men and a Baby and cringed. I think Michael was about 3 weeks old when I stopped the neurosis and realized this child meant as much to him as he did to me.

When younger brother Mason came along, we knew or were told rather this would be our last child. That prospect bothered me quite a bit. So Mason spent more nights on my chest sleeping or in our bed napping than Michael did. Mason was held a little longer than Michael was. And Kory never once begrudged me that physical memory I made with him. Michael was daddy's boy and Mason's was mommy's.

Having an unexpected family so soon in a marriage would probably cause most couples to collapse. But Kory worked two jobs and went to school so I could stay home with our boys. He did whatever it took to have family around our sons at all times. I could see the worry come over his furrowed brow from time to time, but just a half hour of play time with our boys made it disappear.

Men, real men, are a scarce commodity these days. What is a real man? Someone who announces to the world you are his woman and property? Someone who able to rebuild an engine in 20 days or less? A man that can recite all of the Playboy Centerfolds in order??

To me, a real man is someone who rubs his wife's forehead when she's scared after she is told she needs an emergency C-section. A real man kisses his wife on the forehead every day before he leaves for work even if she's sleeping and doesn't know he's done it. A real man understands that a look can mean more than words will ever and has enough in his arsenal to wage war or broker peace. A real man is someone who loves you so much, he will cry at the thought of you hurting. A real man follows through on his promises, goes the extra mile everyday, and does it all with only his family in mind. To me, my husband is a REAL MAN, and I'm so blessed my two boys have that example to follow!

I just don't think I could love this man more....kinda sugary and sickening isnt it?

One More Year...

My little men have made it through another year of school. This year was a very trying and emotional year for our family. We had some pretty intense moments and yet no matter what hour of the day....the smiles on these two stayed constant. I am overwhelmed at their sincerity and love.

We had milestones and firsts this year, lots of new discoveries, new friends and learning new things made the year anything but dull.

Michael lost his first teeth this year. Total to date he's lost 5 teeth and his smile is changing, no longer the small little one, its become more adult daily. He also met his Accelerated Reading goal much earlier than I expected and had A's all year, in every subject.

Mason had a class with very few students he had known before. It was a challenge for him to find his niche in this environment. By the end of the year, he had many friends, a new crush, and grew academically. His reading just blossomed so much, I attribute so much of that to Kim Conrad. She has amazing techniques and the patience of Job most days.

Both boys played sports, Mason tried gymnastics for the first time and did really well. Michael played basketball for the first time on his own team and did better than I expected. His coaches taught him many basics.

We celebrated our Nephew Jackson's very first birthday in January! The boys think and talk about that little boy every day....I am in awe about how much they care for him. Now, if only he lived closer.

One more year down, milestones and firsts experienced. I am so happy they adjust and learn so easily and with little effort, I am relieved they have little difficulities in school. I am proud of the effort they put in everyday. But I am most certainly grieving each year that passes and how little of their childhood lingers. I love being able to do more things with them, I just wish the new experiences would take a little more time getting here. They seem to be in such a hurry to be men, and I'm just trying to catch up to hold onto their little hands for as long as I can.

No Diggity

I put together various play lists on my MP3, (who doesn't?) one of them is specifically for game day before I coach. (Yeah, I'm a dork its ok I admit it) I was getting bored with the same old same old, and I went back to songs that I knew in middle school and high school. Voila! No Diggity by Blackstreet!!

Shorty in down, good lord
Baby got em up open all over town
Strictly biz, she don't play around
Cover much ground, got game by the pound
Getting paid is a forte
Each and every day, true player way

Come on, that's such a grooving song to listen too before you step on the field of battle!! Why aren't there many like this anymore?? (Oh god did I just sound like my parents?!?!) No Diggity!

Hesitation at the precipce

Have you ever been at the edge of a hypothetical cliff and unsure of what to do, knowing that the choices you make are unchangeable? You know, the "rock and a hard place" position. It makes my head throb with figuring out all of the consequences and uncertainties. Knowing full well we can never figure out all of the outcomes of our situations or choices, I still want to at least be aware of possible reactions. Then frustration sets in, anger because of the inability to choose, and the push - pull of adrenaline to make a decision.

Sometimes I think free will is God's cruel joke on humanity. Choices and the consequences of those decisions are all we have in our lives. We can all look back and say "what if" or "if only". We have been given primitive tools to help us: intuition, rationalization, logic. But at the end of the day, in the dark of our rooms when our heads hit the pillow, we struggle to find the reasons these choices are thrust upon us.

I'm a firm believer in Karma and fate. I feel we go through certain things for a reason. I feel I was meant to find my husband....too many factors lead to us meeting that weren't supposed to happen. I feel without hesitation I grew up where I did because I had enough childhood disappointment and was given a hometown to know what innocence can be. I was given the friends I have because I needed to learn humility, I needed to be a better listener. I was given two gorgeous and precious little men because God wanted me to see not all men are evil.

All of this churns inside when I have to make big decisions, and I feel very alone in the decision making lately. I'm exhausted trying to be cooperative, from now on its on my own terms what I choose and to hell with the consequences. No one seems to be dragging behind me with a broom to sweep up the damage path anyway.

Effortless

I like observing what my sons do and how they think. I love the grateful hugs I get when I allow my boys to stay out later and do their homework right before bed instead of immediately after school. I like how my youngest thinks ice cream fixes everything. I like watching my oldest on trying to figure out things that pique his curiosity. I like eavesdropping on their pretend play.

That gentle innocence that is childhood is comforting. It always makes me smile softly with bittersweetness. I love being so much apart of their everyday lives, being there to drink in their new discoveries, to consume the joy they have when they achieve so many firsts. It’s the best sort of medicine anyone could ever have, the best sort of cure for heartache.

Depressed or upset? Go to the park and observe little kids that are yet to be jaded by material possessions. Watch little girls share without jealousy, or compliment each other without sacrificing their own self-esteem. See how little boys still treat little girls with equality instead of succumbing to gender prejudices.

It’s sobering, and we could all use a little sober thoughtfulness from time to time. The gentle way we interact as children becomes ugly and bitter overtime. I’m so grateful I can remember the softness and innocence through my children. I’m so grateful I have been given these two blessings to remind me humanity isn’t 100% evil or corrupt. There are good things left in the world.

Children are all that is good in this world, precious commodities that get too little recognition of their awesome power to bring smiles and love to people without effort.
Effortless love, unending, free. That’s how we should be with each other daily, be childlike in our love and friendship.