The Wisdom of a Child

I pull up in the driveway, and she comes running out. "CYNNNY!"

She is a short, miniature version of my oldest daughter, Shelbie.

"What you doing, Cynny? You picking up Shelbie and Layna?"

"Cynny, you stay here with us?"
"No, baby, that would be awkward."

She reaches her arms up to give me a hug & kisses my cheek.

She is my children's half-sister, their father's youngest child. She looks so much like my daughter Shelbie at that age, sometimes it's scary.

The ex-spouse/half-sibling/step-sibling relationships are confusing to anyone, but a three year old has no understanding of it all. She just knows that I'm Timmy and Shelbie and Layna's mommy. She has no reason not to like me, so she likes me. Simple as that. And to her parents' credit, they haven't done anything to discourage that.

My children's father, his wife, and I can not get along. The reasons for that are many and complicated and not the point of this post.

But the innocence of a child sees none of that. It's so simple and refreshing, and you can't help but wonder...who is the wisest one of us all?

{all photos are of Shelbie at about 3 years old.}

Pouring My Heart Out with Shell

We March Again.

This Saturday is our town's March for Babies (formerly known as March of Dimes).

Those of you who are new to my blog may not know the story behind our support of the March for Babies.

Not long after I met my husband in 2004, he poured his heart out to me. He told me of the birth, and then the death, of his first born son, Johnathon Wayne. He was born prematurely and only lived for 22 days. My heart just broke to see the pain that my husband felt over this loss.

In time, I started wondering what I could do to help him somehow. Obviously, I knew I could never take the pain away. But I wanted to help him honor his baby's memory, and prevent others from going through this pain. So I suggested we join the March for Babies.

We have walked every year since 2006. This will be the second time that my oldest two kids, Tim & Shelbie, will join us. The first time it was when we did the shorter walk. This walk is 8.6 miles. I love that they want to walk with us; I don't pressure them at all, I just ask them if they want to, and they do. My son took the day off of work for this. His girlfriend was going to walk too, but she has to work at her new job. It's going to be a good family event. I am still sometimes amazed that my teenaged kids actually want to spend time with their parents! And then I think....this 'baby' that we're walking for, he would be turning 13 this year. Would he want to hang out with us too? What would he be into, at thirteen years old? What would his life be like; what would our life be like with him in it?

Every year we see the Memory Mile signs, honoring children who did not survive, and then we see many survivors & parents who help to support the cause. It's a very moving experience.

Can you help us help with our March for Babies this year? Truly, every little bit helps. It all adds up to help give babies a fighting chance at life. If you can help with even a very small donation, or by sharing this post, we would be so grateful! Just click HERE or click the March for Babies widget in the right sidebar.

To read more about my husband's son Johnathon Wayne and the story of his short life, please click HERE.

{Linking up for Pour Your Heart Out with Shell @ Things I Can't Say,

and Wordful Wednesday with Seven Clown Circus & Parenting BY Dummies.}

Moments

With four kids, it's always hard to find time to be with each individual child.

It's rare that I get a good chunk of time with just one of them, so I have to take small moments, anywhere I can get them.

The other night, my girls went with my niece to choose & order their bridesmaid dresses for her wedding. John and Tim were at work, so this left me and Andrew at home by ourselves. Shortly after they left, he came up to me and just started talking. Right away he mentioned the situation going on with his biological mother (a.k.a. the egg donor). It was obvious that it was weighing heavily on his mind and he needed to talk about it. I listened to him, and reassured him as much as I could. He seemed to feel better, and went off to play the Wii. It was just a short conversation, but those are the times that I have to take when I can get them.

That same night after the girls got home, Elayna was tired and grouchy, but didn't want to go to bed. Andrew was already asleep, and Shelbie had a friend over and they were doing karaoke in another room. Elayna laid down on the couch with her head on my lap, and I slowly ran my fingers through her hair, and stroked her head, until she was so sleepy she could barely stumble into her room. A very brief and simple thing, but a cherished moment.

The next day, Shelbie and I were talking at dinner and realized we needed a few things from the store. I decided that she and I would make a quick trip after dinner, just the two of us. Usually even for quick trips, it's the whole family or at least three kids tagging along. But occasionally, just the Teenager and I get a chance to sneak off on our own, and I love it. We laugh and tease each other. I lock her out of the car and embarrass her. And we talk. Again....a short space of time. But one that I can't take for granted. She is 15 and still wants to be seen with me. She is 15 and still likes to go places with me. She is 15 and will be grown before I know it. I have to grab these moments while I can.

And then there's Tim. Tim will be eighteen next month. He is a senior in high school. And he lives primarily with his Dad; he's with me every other week from Thursday - Monday. He has a job at a burger place. So, time with him is even harder to come by than it is with the other three. One thing that works to my advantage is being a night owl. He works late hours sometimes on the weekends, and I'm always up when he gets home, and often the only one up. We talk about anything and everything, from life in general to crazy things that happened at work. He has always had this gift of asking me questions that I either have to really think about the answer for, or have never thought of myself, or have no idea how to even answer them. He still does that. This kid makes me THINK. And then I throw something back at him that makes him think, or look at something from a different angle. We may not always agree, but we generally respect each others' opinions. We debate. And we make each other laugh. A few late night moments....and we make the most of them.

I hope I'm always able to at least have these little moments, grabbed here and there, with my kids. Where it's just the two of us, and we talk, or we listen, or we don't talk at all. I'll never outgrow it....I hope they don't either.

*Note* I did it! I blogged every day in February for NaBloPoMo! I'm so proud of myself. Don't be concerned if I take a few days off! If we get any news re: Elayna's thumb I'll update on Facebook. She's going to the orthopedic doc tomorrow.

Found: Love.

This post has been weighing on me, wanting to be written, writing itself in my head.

So I am finally sitting down to write it.

When my first husband and I separated, my self-esteem was not good. It was a bad marriage, a bad ending, and my life was turned upside-down. I was an overweight single mom with three young children.
My own mother told me I'd never find someone willing to take on me and my three children. That was not exactly encouraging.

I didn't want to immediately bring another man into my kids' life, but I did know that eventually, I hoped to get married again. And I knew it would be a lot harder this time around. I was older and wiser and had higher standards, but most importantly, I had three children to think about. I was not bringing just anyone into their lives.

So for about a year, I casually dated, but never introduced anyone to my children, except one male friend who was just that, a friend.

At that time, I was cleaning houses, and I had a client who wrote a book. She gave me a copy of her book for Christmas. It's called Why the Bright Side is Always the Right Side.
It's all about positive thinking, and how your attitude affects your life and the reactions you get from other people. And one section is specifically about finding the right person for you. She mentioned that, before she met her husband, she would pray specifically for HIM. Not to meet him, but she would tell God that she knew he had someone for her, and she would pray that God was getting him ready for her.

So I thought, what have I got to lose? Lord knows, the man who would eventually be with me would need lots of preparation! I prayed very specifically. I had in my head that I wanted to meet a single father with one son. It just seemed like that would fit perfectly. I would pray that this man was having a good day, and that God was getting him ready for me and my children, and the craziness that is our life. I also asked God to prepare me to be a good wife to him.

And one day, I got an email from a single dad with one son. He had seen my AOL profile and just wondered if I wanted to talk. I had already met a couple of guys online and it hadn't went well, but something told me to talk to this man. Give it one more try. So I did.

Now, before I met John, I didn't really think that men like him existed. I mean, I read about guys like him, mostly in fiction books. I saw guys like him, mostly on TV or in movies. Fiction. Not real life; not anything I had experienced, anyway.

And so I waited for the other shoe to drop; for his bad side to come roaring out; for some huge flaw to rear its head. I was convinced that he was married, a drug dealer, or a serial killer. Because it was just too good to be true. We had the same values, beliefs, and sense of humor (VERY important to me). He absolutely cracked me up. He wanted a family, he wasn't just looking for a hookup. He wanted the white picket fence, the whole deal.

And we didn't scare him, not at all. He didn't even blink at the fact that I had three kids. In fact, shortly after he met the kids, we took all four kids (my three and his one) to WalMart. They were ages 3, 4, 8 and 11. It was insanity. And as we were leaving, he said "I can really see us all together as a family". And I laughed and told him he was crazy!

Even when my ex-husband tried to fight him, and assaulted me in the process, he still didn't bail on us. ('nother post, 'nother time.)

But before long, we moved in together (which is yet another post that I will write one day. This caused major drama in my family!). And while I waited for him to lose his temper and scream at me, and curse at me, and do what seemed to be the normal thing for a man to do to a woman....it never happened.

John and I do not fight. And I know fighting. For me, fighting equals yelling, name-calling, and sometimes escalating to physical violence. Frequently someone leaves, slamming doors and shouting obscenities.

This has absolutely never happened between John and I. It's just not how we operate. We rarely argue, and when we do, we resolve our issues by compromising or apologizing or whatever the situation calls for. I don't give myself much credit for this; John is a very even-tempered person and he's also easy-going. And he's a smart man and knows that when I am happy, his life is very good.

We disagree, of course. We're human. But rarely does it become an argument and never a fight.

He has never treated my children any differently than his son. He doesn't try to be their father, but he is an excellent step-father. He does more than most Dads I know. John is four years younger than me, and I had my first son at a young age. So they are only 15 years apart in age. They are like close friends. They have a lot of common interests and I love to hear them talk like a couple of buddies.

And for my girls, he is their taxi driver, homework helper, money giver, everything else any other Dad would do. And he loves us, all of us.

He's not perfect. He leaves his clothes lying around and leaves his shoes lying around. He rarely does dishes. He shaves and leaves his hair all over the sink.

But when you have endured the treatment that I have endured....it is SO easy to overlook those things.

As much as I wish I'd met him many years earlier, I know that I wouldn't have appreciated him back then. It took a really bad marriage to make me realize how precious a really good marriage is. We are good together, and we're good for each other.

The main thing that prompted this loooong post is that I seem to be reading a lot of single mom blogs lately, and I know how frustrating that life is, and how you wonder if you'll ever find someone worthy to be in your kids' life, worthy of your love, and willing to put up with the crazy. And I'm here to tell you, it's possible. It's possible that you will find someone even more amazing than your wildest dreams. That you will look back on that old life and barely remember life without him.

Pray for him. Pray for him to be ready for you, and for you to be ready for him. Pray that he can handle the role he will be taking on. You may end up getting all you hope for, and more!

Visit Shell @ Things I Can't Say for more PYHO posts.

Random Tuesday Thoughts, Grouchy Edition

So, I'm grouchy. Not for any one specific reason, really. I'm just grouchy, so this may be a bit of a bitchfest.



* Have you ever noticed that when you're grouchy, every little thing that annoys you happens all at once? That's been happening to me all night long. It's like the universe is conspiring against me. Bite me, Universe!




* So last night, I was sitting with a patient and watching TV while she slept. I was watching CMT Cribs, and it got me to thinking. Even if I were very wealthy, I just don't think I could, in good conscience, live in the type of extreme luxury that some of these celebrities live in, knowing that there are people living in extreme poverty. I mean, really, a movie theater in your home? I don't begrudge anyone a nice, beautiful home. But some things are excessive and ridiculous, and I just don't think I could sleep at night knowing I had so much, while others have so little. I know that the world will never be truly in balance, but I think this quote would haunt me: "Live simply, that others may simply live." (Ghandi) What do you think?


* Do you ever feel like every time you take a step forward, you take TWO steps back? Because that's how I feel sometimes in a certain aspect of my life. We got the IEP set up for my youngest son, have testing scheduled, I'm feeling good, then he does something social-skills related that blows my mind, and leaves me thinking, what's next? Why can't we make any serious progress without regression?

* I love my life. I chose my life. I am very happy. But sometimes, I feel like I am simultaneously being pulled in a million and one different directions and my head is about to explode! I can't wait till our vacation....27 days...not that I'm counting or anything!

Visit The Un Mom for more Random Tuesday Thoughts!

Stepping Out

Some of my long-time readers may remember that Andrew, my stepson, just came back to live with us a little over a year ago. If you're interested, there's more on the history here,
here, and here. It's just too long to get into here...but for a quick summary, his biological mother has been in and out of his life since he was a small baby, and hasn't seen him at all in over a year. She hasn't called in months, allowing both Andrew's 10th birthday and Christmas to pass without even talking to him. Although we have changed our phone numbers, she has MIL's number and knows where she lives, and has never hesitated to call her in the past (when she wanted something).
She's never went this long without at least calling.
So, it appears that she has totally dropped out of Andrew's life. We don't even know where she is. We heard a while back that she was back with her husband, but more recently I've gotten some info that suggests she is no longer with him, nor her baby she had with him.
I hope his "mother" is gone for good this time. I truly believe that would be in Andrew's best interest. Far better than the in & out crap she did for the first nine years of his life, or the emotional abuse she put him through when he lived with her.
Andrew very rarely mentions her. When he does, it's usually to tell us about some bizarre thing that she forced him to do. It's always negative.
When Andrew moved back in with us over a year ago, he asked me if he could call me Mom. I told him, as I'd told him before, that he could call me whatever he wants to call me. He mostly called me Cyndy; he seemed content just to know that he could call me Mom if he wanted, but out of habit just called me by my name.
But a few weeks ago it occurred to me that I don't remember the last time he called me Cyndy. Towards the end of last year, he started calling me Mom more often. Gradually he has completely stopped calling me by my name. It's always Mama now.
I'm just glad that I can fill that role. It's not always easy. There are challenges. But it gets better all the time, and this recent change confirms that.
One more change you may notice - after this post, I won't be referring to him, here or elsewhere, as my stepson. I usually do, mostly for clarification; sometimes with the blended family situation, it's hard to remember who belongs to who. But from now on, he'll be called our youngest son.
Because at this point, it's time to "step" out.

The bond that links your true family is not one of blood,
but of respect and joy in each other's life.
- Richard Bach

Andrew & John, 2009