Happy New Year!

So it happened. We are now living in 2014.
To say I was born in the 70's is like admitting I am a relic.
Although I realize I am not, but still, don't you feel old?

This past year is something of a blur.
I know that a big part of this feeling is that my husband was gone for most of it.
My youngest turned 1, my daughter 4 and holy shit, Quattro is 13!
A lot has happened and all in all it was a good year, but I am glad it is gone.

Reflecting is something I do often but really, I try to just move forward.
Last year, with my daughters near drowning I feel like looking back on 2013, that is the thing that comes to surface. I know that there are so many amazing moments, Zeke's first words and first steps... but really, the pool flashes in my head and I just try to look forward.

This next year will bring so many changes for our family. We are preparing for a HUGE move.
We will be packing up our house and going on the road for a year and I gotta say, I am so ready.
I am looking forward to doing something new. I have this down, the living in a house and getting kids to school, baseball, ballet. I understand all that goes into this part of life but next year will not only bring new beginnings, it will teach us all a new way of life.

We are surrounded (especially after Christmas) by hundreds of toys, books and games- next year we will learn to entertain ourselves on very few things like this. I wonder what it will do to their desire to consume as adults. Maybe they are too young now to take any of this with them but at the very least I hope they thank us for putting ourselves out there to do something different.

Turning the grey back into black and white. Pt. 1

At 37 years old, I feel like I can finally get a grip on what "it" is all about and I have to say, that I am one of the lucky ones.

I would like to write a series of entries about this topic, as it is long and sometimes ugly- sometimes beautiful too. But I would like to step into the world that no one ever talks about, that is until they are stuck dead in the middle of "the grey".

There is a moment in your life as a woman (maybe men too but I'm not so sure) that you realize you have no idea who you are. This isn't when you are 18 and moving away from home, or when you are 21 and you are moving back.
It isn't even when you are in your 20's and you are graduating from college (did you finish? not the point). It isn't when you get married or have your first (3) kid.
This moment I am speaking of isn't about age or wealth or time or anything like that. It is this moment when you look at yourself in the mirror and everything you have come to know, love, hate, relearn, accept, change- is completely foreign.

You are in the grey.

IF you are lucky you will find your way back to the black and white days. The days when you are owning what you are doing and enjoying the journey, having good days and bad days but you aren't drowning, you aren't constantly searching out what it is "you do".

I had the grey and there was a point when I really thought I would just be forced to deal with it and maybe I will be back there one day. But I am convinced that knowing what makes me "tick", the thing that I "do".
It's not being married or having kids, those are the things that I love but what I am good at is a different journey. I'm not finished. I am not in vivid color, I sort of think that would be perfect and I don't believe in perfect. I think perfect is boring and I don't need that. But to know what it is that I want and to have a journey set in place- even if it changes a million times throughout my life.
Sobeit.

How their death shows your salt.

I am not writing about the death of a movie star this morning.

I am not writing about the death of a friend or relative. 

I am writing about the death of a human.

Yesterday, like much of the world, I read the sad news of Paul Walker's death.

I was instantly sad with the sight of his picture that was attached. It was a somber photo. He was looking down and had a smirk. I was sad about his death, the untimeliness of it all... 

About 10 days ago I lost a friend. 

My neighbor of 10 years.

He was not only my friend but he was a son, a husband and a Father. 

He was an eye, I always felt, watching over my house and my family when my husband was away. 

He was the man that we smiled and and waved to on a weekly basis. 

He was always smiling.

He worked on his boat and smoked the salmon that he caught, always sharing. Always smiling.

The sudden passing of my friend, 54 years young, has kept me in a constant state of worry. 

I worry about my own mortality. I worry about my husband. 

What would he do without me? Or worse yet, what would we do without him?

I am sad and in a somewhat dark place, as death tends to lend itself to the dark side. I am coping though. Remembering the good, trying not to focus too much on the fact that I will never see him again.  That his children will be without him. His beautiful wife. Her sadness is my sadness. I will be a good friend to her, even though I am paralyzed to help. I can do nothing to make her feel better. I can only be her friend and that will have to be enough- for both of us.

Before going to sleep last night I couldn't believe the jokes and rude comments about Paul Walker's death. There were people who were actually saying his death didn't matter. There were "friends" of mine that were writing about what they believed to be unjust shock waves- "if it had been De Niro".... seriously, I read that.

People are attempting to make jokes about the Fast and Furious movies, how he wasn't a good enough actor to be sad over. 

My stomach turned and I got really really angry.

What if this was my neighbor? What if someone wrote that about my friend?

That is the way it felt, because Paul was someone's neighbor. He was someone's son and friend and he was someone's Father. 

Would these "friends" say this about their neighbor? How they weren't good enough to be remembered? I can't say that they wouldn't. I can say that they are no longer people I associate with because I can take a lot, I can read ridiculous political opinions and still be your "friend". You can talk about Obamacare all you want, or the war or the GMO's. You can ask me to support something I don't believe in, you can talk about your God. I can really see the difference in all of us. I can accept, not support, a lot of things but I cannot accept, support or even be remotely associated with making light of someone's death. 

They are dead. 

They are gone.

Never coming back. 

Not to be in anymore movies, or smoke anymore fish.

RIP

On the eve of which we give thanks, I am snuggling in my bed with Q, while he watches Andy Griffith.  

Yep. I am thankful for all of it. 

Finally posting this.

Had the most amazing conversation with my 12 yo yesterday.

It has been a crazy couple of weeks, with my small business taking off and being home without my husband again. It always takes me a bit to adjust- even if we were only together for 9 days total in 5 months... it is an adjustment period for all of us.

So anyway, it was busy. I hate that word. I hate saying "I'm busy", I try my best not to use it but it fits the bill here.

I have been filling a custom order for 3 weeks now. There were 16 pieces total and I wanted it all to be finished so I could work on my next order, truth be told I had been feeling a little guilty. The TV has been on and I have mindlessly been raising my kids. Not getting out to the park or even our evening walks. Man! it sucks being honest, but this is truth time.

Then yesterday my son asks me (while we are making pattern pieces together, while the littles were napping) "if you didn't have any kids, what would you be doing right now?"

I thought for at least 3 minutes before I told him, I had no idea. I said I would probably be on my way to Detroit (where my husband was traveling to). "I really don't know", I said. "I mean, I hope that I would be doing something amazing but without kids, I can't imagine I would be doing this" (making teenie tiny patterns)

Then he asked what I would be doing if I had a million dollars (with kids) and I said

"This."

We then continued to have a very deep and revealing talk that was better for me than him, I am sure. He was just thinking about all the Beats headphones he would be able to buy and I was thinking about how very deep this child is.

I found out, in that 25 minute conversation, that I am not sure who I would be without kids. I know that I didn't want kids growing up. I didn't want to get married or do any of that shit you were "supposed" to do because I always thought it would turn out like shit.

I found out, more importantly, that I am happier right now that I have been in years.

Filling a void I didn't know I had. Making things that not only make me feel good but make a difference (SPD clothing).

I needed that conversation. I needed to be in that moment with my child, the one who changed everything for me., He changed the corse of my life. My world. And now he is helping me realize that my world is forever changing and after 14 years in this "adult stage" I have really come into my own.

Thanks kid.

Where have all the good men gone?

Last night my husband and I got into an argument. It ended with him sleeping and me up late working.
We aren't perfect and we fight and I enjoy it because we get it out, we are both heard and no one has to be right, wrong or even sorry.

I can't stand when someone says "sorry", probably because it is so overused.
My children even know that when you are in the wrong "I'm sorry" is the bare minimum.
They also know what I think about the bare minimum.

Anyway, I got to thinking about my husband (complete incompetence aside, kidding!) and how ironic it is that we are both devoted parents who completely lack Fathers.

Our stories are different. He grew up with a great father. One who cared for him and one whom he looked up to. A late in life divorce changed him to the core and has left his children all but fatherless.

My story is more of a classic version. She just married the wrong guy. I feel lucky though, she took her role as sole parent in stride. We made it, she did it, but why?

Why are men so susceptible to leave? why are they the ones that just pack up and go? How is that?
I know there is not an ounce of that in my body. I couldn't leave if I wanted to, my heart just isn't capable of leaving. I know my children will grow up and move on and have lives of their own but even then, I will have to be in their lives.

So what happened? In a case a new baby, parents split- how does the man leave? What about the late divorce?  What happened there? How could one spend his life being a father and then POOF! gone?  I understand that when the child is small it is the Mother who most often gets the baby, so the man has to play by her rules or the courts rule. But no matter what, how can you just leave them without a father?

A very dear friend of mine had a baby and was not with the mother and he has gone to the ends of the earth (seriously, he is in AZ) to be with this child. This girl is the luckiest girl in the world and she has no idea. He doesn't have anything in his path but her. I am convinced he knows something that most men don't. That childhood is fleeing and that they are only young once. He knows he will get to find his path again.

Because lets face it, when they are grown and move out, we have to be on their terms and well, it's probably not always ideal. I don't plan to follow my son to where ever he ends up. I won't be moving to the house next to his apartment or whatever, but when he is all mine now. I would never leave, no matter what and I know my husband wouldn't either.

The case with my father is a classic. It is so overplayed it is practically in children's books.
But still, how could you?  It is impossible for me to imagine holding my baby and then just writing them off. And I am speaking for everyone who was raised without a father. I am speaking for everyone who had a father and then as an adult was left to wonder why they are suddenly left without one.
And not separated by death- that is different. Although it does feel like a death sometimes. 

"Life isn't fair" and other bullshit we tell our kids.

Well... it's not entirely bullshit, but the fact that I have to tell that to my 12 year old, time and time again is really starting to piss me off. So I did something.

Yesterday Q came home with the tales of the day... it's usually good stuff, sprinkled with lame stuff, whether it be getting hit in the head with a water bottle, falling down the stairs or what have you- he is called a "lesbian" about every other day, this to us has taken a complimentary turn. Which is good. I am now convinced the kid is in love with him, so he needs to tell him something like this. Who else would bother with such a thing? It's okay to be a lesbian and obviously this kid has a problem...

This is not the news.

In class some friends were messing around with stamps and a girl stamped Q in the face, to which he stamped her back, in the face. She got so upset she wanted to change out of the classroom.... this is the mentality of 7th grade girls. It's sad actually. I wouldn't go back to middle school for a million dollars.

No really. I wouldn't.

To make a ridiculously long story short- one that started with laughing and ended with my son having to be late to play practice to go to the office and "apologize" to this girl.

Now I know I am a Mama bear. I know I have the tendency to be protective and yes even at times, over protective but I have always had a good sense of when I am being biased and when my son is being taken advantage of.

Ladies and gentlemen- if you have a boy, they will be treated unfairly. You should tell them now. Go ahead, I will wait..


Ya done?

I have a girl too, so don't get on your soapbox about how girl are repressed and they don't get a fair shot (read post title), I get it. I have that battle too- but today it is about the boy. The boy who will have to apologize for doing something a girl did because she can cry and we will feel sorry for her. I mean, what girl wants a stamp on their forehead? At school? Gasp! Well, why aren't we asking what boy would? Why the double standard Salmon Bay?

Okay, so I was so mad last night. I waiting 5 hours before writing the teacher and Assistant Principle. But when I did I felt good about it. I wanted them to know that I have walked with my son through a lot of injustice and I didn't think it did him a damn bit of good to have him treated so unfairly at school. They are kids! Can we not treat them like kids? Like they are always in the state of learning?
When you are a teacher and you fail to do your job, you fail the kid.

They did not ask the girl to apologize. In fact when Q offered to tell them she was stamping too, he was left with "I don't think so".
Apparently the one side was all they needed. At the end my persistent son said "I just want to know one thing, why did I get in trouble when she was doing it to?" To which they replied "I don't want to talk about it anymore.".

Ya don't? I do.

This morning I was called via speaker phone with my son, the girl and the teacher. He said "everything is fine" and I said it was not. I told him that my son was treated in a manner that the girl was not. He was held solely responsible and I thought that was wrong. And that was about it. He said he wanted everyone to "have a good Friday" and I translated that to "I don't want to get in trouble".

So we all learned. My son learned that when a girl falls down we all rush over to see if she is okay and if she is crying we make sure to take care of her. If a boy falls down, we tell him to get the hell up.