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April 2, 2009

Human thoughts – ramble, ramble

Posted by joya under Family, Life, Love, Parenting, broken heart, divorce
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It’s been a while since I have posted. So much has been going on in my life I don’t even know where to start.

It’s been raining every day, so much that my mood is effected. My emotions have been mixed in the past couple weeks, I don’t know if what I write today will make much sense to anyone. I feel I haven’t been making much sense at all.

Work has been steadily busy, a plus in my book right now because at least I can stay focused when my personal life seems to be full of drama.

I try not to talk too intimately about my personal life, but isn’t that the point of having this online journal? I’m sure I don’t know most of my readers anyway. I wonder if any of them feel like they really know me, if they feel like they can relate to my ramble of unclear thoughts and melodrama.

Today it doesn’t matter. I’m writing to get things off my chest.

I’m feeling sad and gray, matching the sad North West weather that I live in.

My ex husband got into some ‘legal trouble’. He’ll be incarcerated soon. I’m not sure exactly, maybe in about a month or so. I don’t even know where he’s going, only that his sentence is for 2 years.

The best thing that happened in our time together was having our 2 children. They are 11 and 7 years old, my first two children I have, and there is something so very special about each of them.

For some reason he wants me to stick to our current parenting plan, or court order where we have joint custody. This would mean dropping them off at their stepmother’s house while he is in prison. Since we have joint custody, that’s fifty percent of the time, each week, each month, each year.

We’ve battled about the kids before in the past, but nothing nasty or malicous. Feelings have been hurt and there is a level of mistrust but I can say that I know my kids adore their father, and I know he loves them very much.

But I can’t help but wonder why would he think this is a good idea? We live 27 miles away from each other. He proposes they attend a school in his neighborhood, when naturally I plan for them to attend a school in our neighborhood since the courts would assign me temporary full custody until he is released.

So many thoughts go through my head:

Does he really think that’s good for the kids?

I am their mother, they SHOULD be with me.

How will the kids adjust to not seeing their father over time?

Will they rebel, will they be depressed?

I know in my heart I AM THEIR BEST INTEREST.

It hurts to even hear him suggest I drop them off with their stepmom. Granted she is a good woman, and I know there is affinity in their relationship, but will they cry freely with her when the ache of missing their father becomes too much? Will they be able to say in their own words how they feel and share that with her? Will she hold them the way I do and let them fall asleep in her arms if they ask? Would they ask?

Am I not the best person to nurse the wounds of their aching hearts?

It is DRAMA – I know – see what this weather has done to me.

I am supposed to meet him and his wife on Saturday after I drop off the kids. My husband will be with me. But really, this is a discussion about my ex and me, and our kids. Our current spouses are there for support, as flies on the wall that take notes about any exchange that may be misconstrued if it gets ugly.

But I can’t help but wonder, “Why do you bother to ask? Don’t you think I am what’s best for them? Don’t you know you already have 3 kids under 2 years old that your wife needs to attend to? What kind of mother do you think I am?”

I know we’ve changed so much over the years we have been divorced. I am certainly happy that I am not married to the man who committed wire fraud and now has changed the entire course of his future. I am glad I don’t have to question where he was or is coming from. I stopped knowing him months before we even divorced.

But my children I know well – like my own hands, like the lines around my eyes that are apparent now, over months of worrying about how they will handle all this change.

I look at my eyes in the mirror every morning when I wake up, and I wonder if people can see the sadness that I can’t seem to push down anymore. I’ve been able to hide it for a long time because I happen to be a fairly good actress – but this is an affair of the heart – the kind that pulls at my most delicate heart strings.

I picked up my 11 year old daughter from school yesterday. I was so happy to have 30 minutes alone with her during our commute home. It would mean truly focusing on just her, on whatever she wanted to tell me that day, or not. She didn’t have to talk, I just enjoy being with her.

I asked her how her past couple days were since she was at her dad’s house. She told me it has been fine. She said that she didn’t really know how to feel after her dad and stepmom explained that he would be going to jail for a while. In her own words she said, “Mom, I don’t think I drank enough water that day, because I didn’t cry.”

All I could do was tell her that she was strong, and that she handled the news well. She said her brother didn’t really want to talk about it, that he chose to be distracted by other things. That’s how my son is. He isn’t READY to deal with it. He’s only 7. My heart felt a tug when she told me he had no words to share after the news. She simply said, “He’ll talk to you mom. He is closer to you.”

We went to the grocery store to pick up a couple things before going home. At the last minute I decided to buy some white wine. I decided that I wanted to numb some of the dull ache in my chest that I have been feeling for weeks.

It was ‘Breakfast for Dinner” last night and all the kids (I have 4) were delighted to have French Toast for dinner. My husband was cheery and almost done with cooking when we walked through the door.

I sat with the family, poured myself some wine, and stared outside at the pouring rain falling hard onto our deck. I kept thinking, “that’s how I feel inside, heavy and stormy, completely unresolved of my emotions, unending…no warmth or shine in near sight.”

It was so obvious my husband could see and he asked me several times if I was okay.

I just didn’t want to talk about it. I haven’t wanted to talk about it for weeks.

But today I find the words to explain my sadness, and for some reason I feel comfort in being able to type at my keyboard, without editing, or ‘trying to make it better’.

I just want to be human and not hide behind the obvious melancholy state – that I hold in my face, in the way that I walk, in the way that I look at people…

I wish the rain would stop and the clouds would move aside for just a little bit, then maybe I would feel like I can get out of this state. This state of “Why me?”

I don’t like feeling sorry for myself, but honestly, I am sad for me.

This is how I feel today, and tomorrow I pray, it will be different.

 

February 18, 2009

Natural child birth with my daughter Michal

Posted by joya under Life, Love, Parenting | Tags: , , , , |
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Last weekend my 11 year old asked me what it was like to give birth to her. She was my first born and frankly, I remember each birthing experience like it happened yesterday.

I thought I’d share as one day, she’ll read my blog and feel special that I had shared with everyone who visits my blog.

First of all, my pregnancy was pretty uneventful.

I weighed probably 89 or 90 pounds at the time I found out I was pregnant. I was 27 years old.

I gained probably 10 pounds in my first trimester and I remember wondering if this was okay because I read that most women only gain a few pounds (if any) in the first 12 weeks.

It seemed to even itself out though because in my second trimester I only gained about 4 pounds.

By the time I got to last my appointment before I delivered Michal, I had gained 27 pounds. Just the right amount for my size (I’m only 5 feet tall).

She was due on December 12th 1997.

My husband (now ex) and I went to watch a movie on November 28th. It was the Friday after Thanksgiving. I can’t even remember what movie it was. When we arrived home I felt some Braxton Hicks contractions (known as practice contractions for the real thing but nothing to be alarmed about).

I drank about 4 ounces of grape juice and went to bed.

I woke up at about 4:50 in the morning – I remember looking at the clock on the wall in our bedroom. I felt like I wet the bed. So I went into the bathroom and found “bloody show” in my underwear. Definite sign that I was in labor.

I said to PJ, “Uh, I think my water just broke”. He got out of bed and asked, “Are you having contractions?” I said, “No, but they’ll probably start soon”. He jumps into the shower and I’m thinking, .’Hmmm, this baby is coming early. Good thing the bag is packed. We better put the carseat in the car.’

Then it hit me. A REAL contraction. ‘Good Lord almighty, that’s the real thing’. I had to brace the couch as I could barely breathe. I could feel this huge wave of tightness throughout the lower part of my body. I could barely keep myself up on my legs. It was so intense. Then it was gone. I think it lasted like 20 seconds.

Since PJ and I had attended birthing classes, we assumed for our first time going into labor and delivery, that we’d be hanging out at home for a while. He gets out of the shower and asks me, “How far are your contractions?” I answer, “Uh, like a few minutes apart.” He says, “Should we call the doctor already?” I say, “I don’t know. It’s only been about 25 minutes since I woke up”.

Each contraction is still only 3-4 minutes apart but they are so intense I can barely breathe. I have to hold onto something or lean up against a wall because I feel like my legs are going to give out from underneath me.

I change into some sweats, deciding I don’t want to take a shower and accidentally slip. I call the doctor and get a hold of an on call person since my original doctor was in New Mexico. They suggest I go to the hospital since my contractions felt so strong.

We left the house at about 5:30 in the morning.

We lived about 25 minutes from the hospital. PJ is so nervous he could barely keep my timing right for the contractions. They felt like they were about 2 minutes apart and I say, “This is happening so fast. Why is the baby early?!”

We pull into the hospital parking garage and start walking towards the emergency entrance since it was barely 6:00 in the morning. About 20 feet from the doorway I find myself in a serious contraction, again, barely able to breathe through it. I have no where to hold my body up against, so I ended up taking a semi squat position (yogis and yoginis – think Utkatasana – chair pose).

I yell, “PJ – I feel like there’s a head coming out”. I swear my underwear feels wet, like more amniotic fluid keeps coming out at each contraction. Between each contraction, I’m hauling ass to get my body to the check in counter.

I’m in another contraction and have to wait before I can talk. I explain to the ladies at the desk that I had preregistered. I gave them my name and they told me they will get a wheelchair for me. I have to hold myself up against the counter to get yet another contraction over with.

When the wheelchair arrives, I’m thinking, ‘Are you kidding me? It feels like the head is coming out and you want me to sit down?’

I literally keep my butt off the seat by lockingout my arms and push off the handlebars.

They’re booking it to the maternity wing and I can’t believe how fast these contractions are coming. I tell the nurse, “My contractions are back to back, I feel like this baby is coming out”. She says “I can tell. Let’s get you in Triage and see how you look.”

Once we get in the Triage room I hastily get into a hospital gown thinking, ‘This baby’s head is about to fall out. I just want to push.’

The nurse examines my cervix and announces, “‘You are fully dilated! This baby is ready to go, are you ready?” I say, “Yes, let’s go. Where’s my husband?”

PJ is in a state of shock. He can’t believe we’re ready to deliver already. Everything happened so fast. They wheeled me into a room, where a few people were ready for me. One nurse is at my side, trying to coach me. PJ totally just stands by, not even knowing what to do at this point.

I am trying to breathe as the nurse and doctor tell me not to push yet. I’m like, ‘You’re kidding right? I’m pushing whether you want me to or not.’

So I am ready to go – I’ve got a couple nurses pushing down on my knees (as I have assumed the position). I push. OMG – it hurts like nothing I have ever felt before in my life.

I push again. The head is right there! And hell yeah – I am feeling it! Ever heard of the rim of fire? Yes, that’s exactly what it feels like – full in effect (as my best friend Glody would say) – the burning sensation is out of this world.

I’m pushing and they’re telling me to take it easy. Someone in the room announces the baby’s heart rate is going down. The nurse on my right side says to me, “Honey, let’s get this baby out.” I push. They say take a breath. ‘I don’t want to. I want to push.’ So I push, and the head is out.

The doctor says, “One more push, and the shoulders will come out.” I push again, and she’s out all the way.

My daughter Michal, my first born was born at 6:20am on November 29th, 1997.

They placed her on my chest as they started to clean her up.

Meanwhile, the doctor tells me to push again. I’m thinking, ‘Are you f***ng kidding me? She’s out, what the hell do you want from me now?‘ Ah yes, the placenta needed to be delivered. Got that over with.

The labor and delivery happened so fast that I had to get stitches. That part was terrible. Then I discovered witch hazel worked wonders.

They let me nurse Michal right away and it amazed me that she ‘knew’ what to do. She latched on to me right away. I loved nursing her.

Later on PJ told me that he felt nauseous. I hated that he saw me in a way that probably plagued him forever.

Since Michal was born 2 weeks early, she was on the small side. She was only 5 pounds 12 ounces and 18 1/2 inches long. She had a full head of hair and a round sweet face. I was so in love with her the moment I saw her.

To sum it up, I loved having a natural childbirth. That’s what I originally planned for, but I never suspected it would have happened as fast as it did.

How lucky was I.

Namaste.

 

December 29, 2008

treating the sugar addiction

Posted by joya under Life, Parenting, working out | Tags: , , , , |
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As I am typing I am committed to kicking this sugar addiction like someone with a serious drug habit.

Not only does my stomach react to sugar in the worst way – my self esteem and lack of control disappear. I feel defeated. Let’s add gross too.

My husband tries so hard to look out for me. He asks me, “Are you sure you want to eat that?” – when he knows how many times I get up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom. My stomach writhes in pain. Every time.

But I love the taste of anything sweet. I love the comfort I get from a good slice of cake, or however many cookies I can stuff my mouth with. It’s never worth it.

So I got on the internet and looked up sugar addictions and how to break the habit.

The good news is that it is doable. Totally.

The bad news is that I will pretty much have to do this cold turkey.

Then the good news about that is that I have been able to do it before – with caffeine.

I don’t drink caffeine – I can certainly live without it, and I was able to quit within 2 days.

Then the bad news to that is sugar is my great love!

Goodness, I sound so pathetic.

So one of my great answers is to pray about it! Yes! I am praying about it. I am asking the good Lord to help me control this habit that I have, and to ‘heal’ me of this awful addiction. Do you think it will work?

We’ll see.

I keep talking about taking pictures of myself to track any progress but I hate how each picture turns out. I will try tonight AGAIN to just get it over with – as I know seeing improvement is the best motivator.

I refuse to get on the scale since I have been so weak and eating every sugary crumb in the house. Plus I know the way I have been in the past – getting hooked with the scale says is torture for me. I don’t want to replace one compulsive habit with another! Trying here.

Plus I think about my girls – and they look up to me so much. I love them to pieces and at 11 and 9 years old, they are looking at themselves with the scrutiny I did when I was in middle school. And I was so self conscious in middle school.

It scares me the pressures they feel now at such a young age, how quickly they are growing up and how much they self depreciate under the stupid, snide comments that other kids in their class make. I know that half of what these kids say is normal and supposedly unharming – but those same comments triggered my food issues at a very young age.

I’m trying to be a role model here. Dang it’s hard. How is it at my age I still feel so much pressure? And the worst part is that it is self inflicted. I am the only one who thinks I am such a freak!

Onto something else – I forgot to bring my gym shoes to work today so I was unable to get my cardio in – curses!

I didn’t want to take the yoga class because I knew my elbow would be in pain while doing vinyasa, so I decided to turn up the heat and sit in the sauna. I sat in the sauna for 45 minutes and I was sweaty! Just like hot yoga – I was perfectly comfortable!

My elbow is still killing me and the only thing that seems to comfort it is plenty of ice and massage. As putting my fitness goals on hold is hard enough, I am challenged that I can’t do most of what I have done in the gym in the past.

So I am back to doing cardio and once the holidays are completely over, it will be easy to get back into the regular swing.

I know that doing cardio will bring down my weight fairly quickly, it usually does but I am afraid I will lose muscle as well. Oh well, what am I going to do? At least I don’t have a serious injury. I have to try and look at something positive.

Well – it’s time to close up my post for the day. Looking forward to getting back to a normal schedule and getting back on track.

Namaste.

 

December 2, 2008

Christmas gifts

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seem to mean nothing but having more ’stuff’, so I banned giving Christmas gifts out to adults this year. Instead, I am baking – A LOT.

Next week I am getting together with a couple friends from work and we’re baking all day, then putting together an assortment of baked goods in pretty decorated boxes to give as gifts for friends and family. These are the kinds of gifts I love to receive so I enjoy making them for people who mean a lot to me.

sidenote: I don’t know about eating them, it’s either I am good and eat just one or I devour the whole box…

Ian and I decided not to buy gifts for each other this Christmas. Money is tight and situations have come up that have really put us in even more of a bind and we’re just hoping once the new year rolls around, things will improve.

But last night he told me he’s going to buy me a gift.

I personally don’t like it when people tell me they are giving me a gift because then I feel obligated to give something in return. I shouldn’t feel this way but the Catholic in me feels guilt to the umpteenth power.

Now I need to be creative and create something for him. When do I even have the time?

Last Friday – after Thanksgiving, I did not get up before dawn to take advantage of any Black Friday deals. I have in the past 2 years, but not this year.

I did – however stay in my comfy pajamas, make myself a great cup of coffee and sit at the computer for 45 minutes and shop for all the kids on my list. This includes godchildren, nieces, and nephews. I purchased online (all free shipping) at Target and Toys R Us. I may have forgotten a couple now that I think about it, but the online deals were great!

I feel accomplished for having done so much in such a short amount of time.

This weekend I’ll do some decorating around the house for the kids and try our best to finish up our holiday projects for classmates’ gifts.

I wanted to teach the kids about making things with their own hands, and putting together little gifts to hand out to to their friends, they really liked the idea! So hopefully we can finish that up by Sunday afternoon.

As for dear husband, I do have something in mind, nothing big but I won’t mention it in case he decides to visit my site (which he does once in a blue moon).

I have my older kids from my first marriage on Christmas Eve. They then go to their dad’s on Christmas morning.

We have a tradition in our family where I bake a birthday cake for Jesus and we sing to him on Christmas Eve. We share the dessert and just have a quiet time with the family. We have one treat that night – and that is to let the kids open their stocking gifts. They love it.

I hope these are traditions they carry on to their children, because it only creates blissful feelings for me.

As I have grown older I don’t think of receiving gifts at all. That doesn’t mean anything to me anymore. I do like home baked goods, sauces, mixes, and crafts but I figure if I really want something, I’ll buy it myself.

I just want to show my children that Christmas is more about what we give from our hearts, or because we can, or because so many people have so much less than what we do.

This holiday season is such a deep relection of my upbringing. I hope my mom knows how well she did with me. Everything she used to say – I actually remember – and now I am saying those same things.

So bittersweet.

Namaste.

 

May 20, 2008

Potty training the 3 year old

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I’ve been working on potty training my 3 year old, who at 2 and a half showed interest in going to the potty.

So we bought the potty and one day he said he wanted to go. It was as easy as that. He would sit on the potty and go whenever he said he needed to.

All of a sudden, 6 months later, he has stopped. He just stopped. He’ll sit on the potty and nothing happens. I’m stumped. And I don’t want to get mad at him because I know it’s not worth it. I don’t want to make matters worse either. 

Has this happened to anyone else? He’s a boy, so training boys can be harder anyways (my first son was not fully potty trained until he was nearly 5!).

I know Mason knows HOW to do it, but he’s completely stopped showing interest. Instead, he’ll sit on his potty, after 10-15 minutes of waiting, nothing happens. I explain to him he gets no treat for not going potty.

I put on his pull up, and then he goes potty in this pull up. Sigh.

I remember when I was trying to potty train Sol. He was 4 1/2 and his dad and I were starting to stress out about him being potty trained since he would start kindergarten soon. He learned number 1 and number 2 within a week. He was finally in boy briefs a few weeks before his birthday.

I need to get Mason into preschool! I can’t have him doing the same thing as Sol!

EEK! Someone help me out….

 

May 9, 2008

I want to hear “I love you” every day

Posted by joya under Family, Life, Love, Marriage, Parenting, Relationships
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I am one of those people that says “I love you” a dozen times a day. I say it when I say good-bye to the kids in the morning when they go to school. I say it when I pick them up. I say it when dear husband and I part ways, talk on the phone, as a way of saying thank you. You get the idea.

“I love you” means more to me than the obvious. To me it also means “Thank you” – “I appreciate you” – “I want you” – “You mean so much to me”. So I say it all the time, and our family says it back to each other. And none of us seem to get tired of saying it or hearing it. And I like that.

I grew up with a father who rarely told me he loved me. Coming from an Asian background, that’s just not our culture. We just don’t say it. But as I grew up I told myself I would tell my kids and husband one day that I loved them all the time.

It doesn’t seem to be overused either. It doesn’t lose its value. It always brings a smile to my face, makes me feel warm. Maybe I am just really sappy and like that kind of thing, but my kids ask for it too. They want to hear it in return. They smile too when I tell them.

Even my 3 year old says it out of the blue. I don’t have to say it first. We’ll be in the car driving home and I’ll see him in the rear view mirror, looking out the window. He’ll catch me smiling at him and he’ll say “Mama – I love you SOOOO much”. Seriously, he emphasizes the SOOOOO. And I love it.

Even when my husband and I argue, I’ll tell him I love him even when he makes me mad or drives me up the wall. It always shortens the tension between us.

When I tuck my kids into bed at night, they hug me real tight and tell me they love me so much it ‘fills them up’. That always makes me smile.

So in my world “I love you” may be said a dozen or more times a day and it always has some impact on me.

“I love you” is something I don’t get tired of saying or hearing. It is music to my ears.

Namaste.

 

 

May 8, 2008

Mother’s Day – do we feel pampered?

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Yesterday dear husband asked me what I wanted for Mother’s day. I told him “You should decide how good of a mother I have been in the past year, and have your gift reflect that.” I was pleased with my witty response.

Ian, the husband, had the “oh sh*t” look on his face when I said that. He’s like, “Great Joy, why can’t you just tell me what you want?”. And I reply (with a beautiful smile!) “Well, what do I deserve?”

So – what do we deserve?

It doesn’t matter how many kids you have, how old they are, if they still live with you, if they are in your every day lives…none of that. What do you think we as moms deserve?

I have 4 kids. Our oldest is 10 and our youngest turns 3 this Saturday the 10th. I work full time plus I teach yoga on the side. So – I don’t even have that much time with my kids. In fact, I have been going back and forth in my mind about quitting my day job to be at home. We would save so much money just by not having to pay the child care for 4 children. I could teach at night and look at different ways to save money.

Does staying at home make me a better mom? To be honest with you, I don’t really think so.

But there needs to be balance. I work long days and am tired when I come home from teaching. My kids ache for me to lay down with them, read them a book, cuddle with them. Any time I have aside from work goes to them, so then the husband is left out.

Ian and I focus on our kids because we want them to grow up and be like us; responsible, hard-working with good values, and work ethic. But we want more than that. We want them to be better than us. Don’t most parents?

So reflecting back this past year, as I spend so much time away from my kids to work and create a future where it shifts to my love for yoga – I don’t feel I have been a very good Mom.

But when I am with my kids, I am so present with them. I get on the floor with them, roll around and laugh out loud. I dance with them, exercise with them, race in the park, and let myself be a kid with them. My time with them is so limited I know, but I hope that they see I have their undivided attention when I sit with them, crash on the couch with them, and nap next to them.

I want to say I need an afternoon to myself, kid free, chore free, and ‘I have to do this now’ free. Would that be a good pamper for me? I guess so. Would I want a make over or spa day to show me I am a good mother? Hmmmm. I don’t know. That only lasts for a day.

It’s just one day, right? One day to honor us as mothers. Which by the way our job is an endless, thankless one that doesn’t quite equate to a bouquet of flowers and brunch at a busy restaurant.

Part of me doesn’t want it because I am far from done. And I want to be thanked every day, acknowledged and honored often. One day out of the year to notice what I do? That sounds sad to me.

My kids are far from grown up. I am still growing into my motherhood shoes. In fact, they don’t ever stop from teaching us something new about ourselves.

What I really want is my family to notice me for what I do. Even if I do work long days and 2 jobs. I don’t spend time with my own husband to make sure the kids know they are number one.

Anyway, this post sounds like a complaint I know but really, it’s not.

I just wonder how other moms feel about mother’s day. I think it’s hard for me too, because my mom has been gone for 2 years now and I don’t think I thanked her enough for the love she gave me, even when I wasn’t around her.

I’m missing her so that’s hard for me, always.

 

March 27, 2008

Baby, you have changed me…

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You can not put into words how having a child or children will change your life. Friends of mine who were pregnant for the first time would ask for words of wisdom from me. I have had 3 children of my own. Each experience having profoundly changed me in a way I would not have ever dreamed of.

This is what having a child does to you. It changes you as a person, it shapes you into a deeper, greater person. It molds you into someone you can’t possibly expect to know. It just gradually happens.

And it is the best road to ride.

My first child is now 10 years old. Her name is Michal Joy. She is similar to me in many ways. She is nurturing, loving, giving, and sensitive. She is hard on herself, self sufficient, and tough as nails. On one hand she still asks me to tuck her in at night. On the other hand she is telling me how to increase my speed in running by interval training, and “Why don’t we run together in the park, Mama? I bet I am faster than you now!”. Things like that blow me away…

See – each of my kids are a gift. I know that sounds like such a cliche‘ but it’s so true. My 6 year old Solomon is a gentle guy. He’s always thinking of how things make other people feel. He pays attention to the words he uses. He is one of those kids that says “I love you” hundreds of times a day and means it every single time. Solomon was 2 years old when his father and I divorced. He doesn’t even remember what it was like for me and his dad to be together. He is curious about our past relationship, wonders how people stop loving each other. He’s a wise little guy. We definitely picked the right name for him.

Mason, my baby is a spitfire. He keeps me on my toes. He is a lot of work. He’s got this huge personality, making faces all the time and always trying to be the entertainer. He dances to Sir Mix Alot and Chris Brown. He makes everybody laugh. He was my preemie baby who reminded me that God delivers miracles every day, small and big. Whether people realize it or not, they happen.

My babies are growing up but they will always be my babies. I can remember holding each of them for the first time; checking out their fingers and toes, kissing their perfect little lips. Nursing them half asleep. Crying over them because I was so exhausted. Crying over them because they hurt each other’s feelings, punched each other, or unintentionally said something hurtful to me. Crying over them because I see so much more in them than I ever saw in myself. They seem to only have the best of me. The worse things I can forgive, and I can barely see. The worse things are only in me. They are better than that, better than me.

Writing this brings tears to my eyes because my mother died 2 years ago. She lived the simplest life. She never required much. But she always used to tell me that all she really cared about was that her kids were doing well, that they were happy, that they turned out okay. I see that clearly now. I see that that is my ultimate success to be had some day.

My babies have changed me. They have taught me true love, unconditional and completely forgiving. They have taught me joy like no other person can give you. Incomparable to what your spouse can give you, that your best friend can give you.

A few times my children have asked (even my stepdaughter has asked me this, Cloey who is 8), if I still love them even when they’re bad, even when they have hurt me, even when they have made big mistakes. I have told them that, “I will love you no matter what. I know that, there’s no doubt about it. You WILL hurt me some day, you will say terrible things to me, you won’t make me the most important person in your life. But you’ll know I love you, always. Nothing will change that. And some day when you’re older you’ll come back to me and we’ll be friends again. And you’ll see nothing about me has ever changed. Loving you is one thing I can promise you, will never change.”

So that’s how I feel in my heart about having children, about being a mom, about infinite and unconditional love, about fulfillment.

I may never go down in history having done something extraordinary but I have a strong feeling my kids will turn out happy and extraordinary adults. And that to me makes my life complete.

 

March 12, 2008

Almost 3 years old – Mason

Posted by joya under Family, Parenting
1 Comment 

/>Mason eating breakfast

My youngest, my baby turns 3 years old on May 10th. his birth date was July 12th, 2005. he was born 9 weeks too soon weighing in at 2 pounds, 4 ounces. i can barely remember what it was like that day he was born. i was so drugged up with morphine, and the pain was so great that all i cared for was hearing his little cry. once i heard that, i passed out.

three years later no one brings up the fact that mason was a preemie. he is so little as he is, he won’t be a tall person. i stand only 5 feet tall and ian, his dad is only about 5′8 or 5′9 at best. still, mason’s personality is big. he is outspoken, a troublemaker, an instigator, sensitive but bullying…and he is constantly growing into his own persona.

yesterday i picked him up from the sitter’s after work. he was as usual, munching on a cookie; he himself calls himself a cookie monster. he was happily munching away, little crumbs escaping from his perfectly small lips, smiling and saying, ‘cookie’. i put his shoes on, then his jacket and he hugged me intently. he was as always, genuinely happy to see me.

this is always a good thing after working a long nearly 10 hour day. mason brightens the rest of my day. so we are driving home and it takes about 20 minutes with all the traffic. a new song by mariah carey comes on titled “touch my body”. catchy little tune. mason hears the chorus a few times and i smile as i see him in the rear view mirror swaying back and forth, slowly closing his eyes and trying to sing, “touch my body…”

kids definitely know how to entertain.

it was a perfect evening with him. he didn’t complain about dinner, he didn’t whine. he didn’t throw any tantrums. after dinner he danced to sir mix a lot’s “square dance rap” (a favorite of my older children) and i got a few good laughs from that. i also got plenty of affection, kisses, squeezes on my legs, high fives. you name it, he said yes to everything.

9:00 p.m. rolled around and i told him i was tired. he said he wanted his ‘baba’ so we went downstairs and i gave him some milk to drink. he told me he wanted to bring it to bed and i simply stated, “mason, you’re not a baby anymore. we’re not going to bring it to bed. so go ahead and drink as much as you can and i’m going to put you to bed”. he just responded with an “okay mama”.

and there was the perfect evening. i tucked him in as he asked for two specific ‘babies’ (stuffed animals) to be placed beside him on his pillow. he kissed me goodnight. he didn’t get out of his bed once. before i closed his door, he said ” good night mama, i love you”.

my baby is turning 3 soon but he will always be my baby.

my mason.