My son started his first day of preschool with no parents around. It was a very good transition.
He said" bye momma, see ya later" and off he went holding one of his new friends' hands(Cass).
Cass is a little boy lux's age with the same build and height. Cass' mom is megan and she is very nice, although I didnt get much time to talk to her at the open house yesterday, I am sure we will begin to talk as our kids gravitate toward one another. Lux seemed relaxed and at ease yesterday when we arrived at the school, I think all the time we spent focusing on preparing him for school has paid off. His frequent school visits during the summer and his teacher coming to the house made a definite impact on his comfort level. I feel like we did something really nice for him. At this age, surprises that effect a child't emotional foundation are not welcomed surprises. They are met with resistance and tightly gripped hands.
The children at Detroit waldorf school are very sweet kids, they were helping the younger kids get on and off the swings, sharing their toys and holding hands as they moved around the playground.
I am excited about this year, and I am anticipating many many insights and changes.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Friday, August 27, 2010
bake slaes, fundraisers and after school specials
So, lux is off to preschool, in 2 weeks he will be going to school 3 days a week. It will be an adjustment but at the same time, we are all looking forward to him. I want to see what he will learn when he is in an educators care. What revelations will he have? How will his view of the world change? Will he have tons of friends or just a chosen few? He is 3 1/2 years old, he will be 4 in october and he is beyond ready! This kid can read count to 30 and name all of his shapes and colors including octagons and pentagons and colors like ecru and yellow ochre.
When your child begins to scratch the surface of independence this way, there is a feeling of concern and excitement all at the same time. I feel like I want to implode and explode at the same time. So that leaves me with what i have right here in my presence. I am savoring the moments i have with him in every way. more to come as we being volunteering for the bake sales, the fundraisers and going to the after school assemblies...
When your child begins to scratch the surface of independence this way, there is a feeling of concern and excitement all at the same time. I feel like I want to implode and explode at the same time. So that leaves me with what i have right here in my presence. I am savoring the moments i have with him in every way. more to come as we being volunteering for the bake sales, the fundraisers and going to the after school assemblies...
Sunday, April 4, 2010
My Grandpa at 92
Affecionately referred to as Dido, meaning Grandpa in Czech. He was 50 when I was born, from the time I was old enough to remember my grandpa has been there in my life. Either in the middle of it, on the side, or lingering in the background. At times, I valued everything he said, other times I repelled from all of his "advice" and now as he ages, I find myself peaking with interest as he tells his stories. This man, was a seat filler for my father. When my dad died, he was there, he made his home available to us and we moved in. Not unselfishly, this was a move to better control my mom's outcome and to keep track of her affairs. But to a 1 1/2 year old who spent the next year in his daily presence, I was safe. My grandpa has always tried to provide safety and security to me, with Huge consequences, if his way was not the way I chose to get to the finish line. But this is not really about the "real grandpa" today, this is about "my grandpa" and it comes from a child's perspective, because as a child he was my everything.
My grandpa was a stern, strong, tall man when he was young. No nonsense. He taught me to be strong, opinionated and have a fighting will. He told me to never give up and to always speak my mind. He had no tolerance for wimps. it was not long after I was 3 that i remember beginning to fear him a bit, at times, I would stand at his feet and look aaaalll the waaaay up to his chin! I could not see past his chin, but I knew he was looking out around to make sure nobody was trying to harm me. When I stood behind him, peering out, I knew if I squeezed his leg, he would protect me. He would hold my hand to cross the street, he would offer his coat to me when I was cold and he always made sure my grandma was preparing us something to eat, so as not to be hungry. When I would take a bath, I could call for him, he would wash my back. I could always rely on him to lift me up to the tallest part of the cherry tree so I could reach that.... one.... cherry... i saw from the ground. He did this, and so much more for me. Today, I was watching my son, holding his grandpa's hand, walking from the restaurant, and I remembered how special I used to feel when I was holding MY grandpa's hand. I felt totally safe, totally loved and soo cool because he picked me to hold HIS hand. There have been times in my life as I have grown when my grandpa was a very deep source of pain for me. Some of the memories come with a price. His gentleness waned as I became an adult. His overbearing expectations, were too much to handle at times. But, today, I went to see him and i was so lost. My grandpa is a 92 yr old man. He is frail and bony, his face is skeletal and his eyes are hollow. He wants to be able to die. He just wants God to finally say, it's enough,we're ready for you now. But still he is given more time....He said to me today, I NEVER in my life, thought I would live this long. I knew, this was not a statement of pride, but one of despair, of utter desperation. I held my grandpa's hand today, and suddenly I was the hand providing stability, strength and comfort. his brown spotted paper thin hands, have seen so much pain and very hard work in his life. They have carved wood patterns for many of the first buick's at fisher body. My grandpa's favorite car was his lime green cadillac with the white leather interior. My had style. Now he sits in his flannel shirt, pants that are falling from his hips and has to drink coffee from a straw. This pillar in my life is crumbling. This man who was my father, and my grandfather, is now waiting for his last breath to finally come. It is heartbreaking and so completely wrong to watch him like this. His empty stare gazing out a widow, as if he is searching for his real life. Just gazing, looking, searching for a sign that this is NOT really the life he is living right now. The painful realization is to much for him to bear. Each time I see him now, he cries. he cries about still being alive, or about when he was an orphaned boy who mother chose to leave him she could come to America " she said she didn't me anymore". He cries about the church he used to belong to that told him after 67 years, "John, No we really don't want to hear your opinion anymore". He cries about the friends who have passed, and how he and my grandma are the only ones left. In the midst of all of this, he lives in his house with strangers, 24-7 caregivers, who feed him, bathe him and help him walk to the bathroom. He sleeps in a special recliner now, because he cant straighten his back anymore. He has not been able to sleep next to my grandma in 2 years. She sleeps on the couch next to his chair so that the familiar sound of his breathing can lull her to sleep. All the while longing to hold him next to her so he can reassure her of her own safety. This is no way to live. This is not a happy ending to a life honored by 6 children, 17 grandchildren, 10 great grandchildren and 3 great great grandchildren. This is not the way he wanted to go. All of this is bubbling up inside of me, waves of melancholy and frustration rumble over me like a bicycle over a cobblestone road, jarring my perspective and perplexing my mind. Right now, at this moment, I want my grandpa back. The guy who had fight in his soul. I want to see the man who taught me all of those things, and I want to relive those experiences. I want my Grandpa.
My grandpa was a stern, strong, tall man when he was young. No nonsense. He taught me to be strong, opinionated and have a fighting will. He told me to never give up and to always speak my mind. He had no tolerance for wimps. it was not long after I was 3 that i remember beginning to fear him a bit, at times, I would stand at his feet and look aaaalll the waaaay up to his chin! I could not see past his chin, but I knew he was looking out around to make sure nobody was trying to harm me. When I stood behind him, peering out, I knew if I squeezed his leg, he would protect me. He would hold my hand to cross the street, he would offer his coat to me when I was cold and he always made sure my grandma was preparing us something to eat, so as not to be hungry. When I would take a bath, I could call for him, he would wash my back. I could always rely on him to lift me up to the tallest part of the cherry tree so I could reach that.... one.... cherry... i saw from the ground. He did this, and so much more for me. Today, I was watching my son, holding his grandpa's hand, walking from the restaurant, and I remembered how special I used to feel when I was holding MY grandpa's hand. I felt totally safe, totally loved and soo cool because he picked me to hold HIS hand. There have been times in my life as I have grown when my grandpa was a very deep source of pain for me. Some of the memories come with a price. His gentleness waned as I became an adult. His overbearing expectations, were too much to handle at times. But, today, I went to see him and i was so lost. My grandpa is a 92 yr old man. He is frail and bony, his face is skeletal and his eyes are hollow. He wants to be able to die. He just wants God to finally say, it's enough,we're ready for you now. But still he is given more time....He said to me today, I NEVER in my life, thought I would live this long. I knew, this was not a statement of pride, but one of despair, of utter desperation. I held my grandpa's hand today, and suddenly I was the hand providing stability, strength and comfort. his brown spotted paper thin hands, have seen so much pain and very hard work in his life. They have carved wood patterns for many of the first buick's at fisher body. My grandpa's favorite car was his lime green cadillac with the white leather interior. My had style. Now he sits in his flannel shirt, pants that are falling from his hips and has to drink coffee from a straw. This pillar in my life is crumbling. This man who was my father, and my grandfather, is now waiting for his last breath to finally come. It is heartbreaking and so completely wrong to watch him like this. His empty stare gazing out a widow, as if he is searching for his real life. Just gazing, looking, searching for a sign that this is NOT really the life he is living right now. The painful realization is to much for him to bear. Each time I see him now, he cries. he cries about still being alive, or about when he was an orphaned boy who mother chose to leave him she could come to America " she said she didn't me anymore". He cries about the church he used to belong to that told him after 67 years, "John, No we really don't want to hear your opinion anymore". He cries about the friends who have passed, and how he and my grandma are the only ones left. In the midst of all of this, he lives in his house with strangers, 24-7 caregivers, who feed him, bathe him and help him walk to the bathroom. He sleeps in a special recliner now, because he cant straighten his back anymore. He has not been able to sleep next to my grandma in 2 years. She sleeps on the couch next to his chair so that the familiar sound of his breathing can lull her to sleep. All the while longing to hold him next to her so he can reassure her of her own safety. This is no way to live. This is not a happy ending to a life honored by 6 children, 17 grandchildren, 10 great grandchildren and 3 great great grandchildren. This is not the way he wanted to go. All of this is bubbling up inside of me, waves of melancholy and frustration rumble over me like a bicycle over a cobblestone road, jarring my perspective and perplexing my mind. Right now, at this moment, I want my grandpa back. The guy who had fight in his soul. I want to see the man who taught me all of those things, and I want to relive those experiences. I want my Grandpa.
Friday, March 12, 2010
way down in there
SO most of my life I have had made the choice to be a happy person, optimistic, hopeful. In many, many situations people will usually make an issue out of it. They want me to not be so happy! Why are you so happy all the time! How can you be so happy all the time!.
Well, all of those people have finally won!
I cannot seem to find my happiness. I uaually can talk myself out of the selftalk. I can get past it, I can see it for what it is, an old way of living that just does not fit me anymore. But, recently I have not been able to do that. It is different than depression. I feel urgent! I feel like I HAVE to change my circumstances, my career, my life. And yet, the truth is, for right now, I am stuck here. I feel stuck because i AM stuck. It's almost as if I have 20lb weights on each foot literally preventing me from moving. Some of this is the dual life I am living. I spend all day at a job that is pointless, worthless, and just boring. My mantra every morning is, You are getting paid for this... you have to go. I want to be saying I am getting paid for this? I cant wait to get back there! There is quite a difference between the two perspectives. Is it a perspective though, or is it reality? or is it just a worn out version of the same story I have been living my whole life? I feel a rumbling, way down in there, a nudge, but it has force. It's an adamant nudge. This nudge is what is driving me crazy! I thought, once i knew what I wanted to do with my life, I would be happy, but here I am, knowing what I want to do and yet I am unable to do it right now. I want to skip all the time between now and graduation and just get on with it! All of this time spent on homework is necessary so i can do well in my classes and get this HR degree. My biggest fear, is that I will get the degree, and then I will have a masters in HR and still be doing this pointless job! That would be awful. So I wait, I am living in parallel universes. One is like a large ship or a barge, moving slowly in the same direction, nothing changing, nothing progressing but getting tot eh destination eventually, the other is a high speed whirlwind, moving from subject to subject, massive amounts of learning, information flying at me from all angles and with grabbing on to the handle of the ride with white knuckles hoping I make it to the end.
Well, all of those people have finally won!
I cannot seem to find my happiness. I uaually can talk myself out of the selftalk. I can get past it, I can see it for what it is, an old way of living that just does not fit me anymore. But, recently I have not been able to do that. It is different than depression. I feel urgent! I feel like I HAVE to change my circumstances, my career, my life. And yet, the truth is, for right now, I am stuck here. I feel stuck because i AM stuck. It's almost as if I have 20lb weights on each foot literally preventing me from moving. Some of this is the dual life I am living. I spend all day at a job that is pointless, worthless, and just boring. My mantra every morning is, You are getting paid for this... you have to go. I want to be saying I am getting paid for this? I cant wait to get back there! There is quite a difference between the two perspectives. Is it a perspective though, or is it reality? or is it just a worn out version of the same story I have been living my whole life? I feel a rumbling, way down in there, a nudge, but it has force. It's an adamant nudge. This nudge is what is driving me crazy! I thought, once i knew what I wanted to do with my life, I would be happy, but here I am, knowing what I want to do and yet I am unable to do it right now. I want to skip all the time between now and graduation and just get on with it! All of this time spent on homework is necessary so i can do well in my classes and get this HR degree. My biggest fear, is that I will get the degree, and then I will have a masters in HR and still be doing this pointless job! That would be awful. So I wait, I am living in parallel universes. One is like a large ship or a barge, moving slowly in the same direction, nothing changing, nothing progressing but getting tot eh destination eventually, the other is a high speed whirlwind, moving from subject to subject, massive amounts of learning, information flying at me from all angles and with grabbing on to the handle of the ride with white knuckles hoping I make it to the end.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
my 3 yr old
OK my son is potty trained! It took him about 6 weeks but we are on the way to big boy ville.
He wears regular underpants, he go on the potty chair, he goes on the big toilet, he goes in department store bathrooms. This weekend we went to see my sister and we had to stop at meijer to get a few things, we were standing in the aisle way and he exclaims, I have to pee! Then I turn to look at him and his pants are already half way down. This prompted a conversation about when he has to pee, he needs to tell us and then we will go to the potty. there are not automatic potty's that pop up when he suddenlyhas to go, although that WOULD be a good idea!
We were in the car, he had to pee, and there was no potty anywhere. So, we taught him about the special magic that boys possess, how they can pee in a cup just by lowering their pants. He was lit up! he thought this must be one of the coolest things ever!!! he was very pleased.
Last night he says, I have to doop. runs to the potty chair, drops his pants and then looks at the floor, two little terds fall from his butt onto the floor. he then walks to me with his pants around his ankles and says, uh, mommy, I uh, hmm i dont know what happened. So cute.
Someday I will tell this story at his high school graduation. Thanks for the material... :)
He wears regular underpants, he go on the potty chair, he goes on the big toilet, he goes in department store bathrooms. This weekend we went to see my sister and we had to stop at meijer to get a few things, we were standing in the aisle way and he exclaims, I have to pee! Then I turn to look at him and his pants are already half way down. This prompted a conversation about when he has to pee, he needs to tell us and then we will go to the potty. there are not automatic potty's that pop up when he suddenlyhas to go, although that WOULD be a good idea!
We were in the car, he had to pee, and there was no potty anywhere. So, we taught him about the special magic that boys possess, how they can pee in a cup just by lowering their pants. He was lit up! he thought this must be one of the coolest things ever!!! he was very pleased.
Last night he says, I have to doop. runs to the potty chair, drops his pants and then looks at the floor, two little terds fall from his butt onto the floor. he then walks to me with his pants around his ankles and says, uh, mommy, I uh, hmm i dont know what happened. So cute.
Someday I will tell this story at his high school graduation. Thanks for the material... :)
Long time gone
I know I have been missing for awhile. I think my life is just spinning aorund and little things fling off of me every now and then. Today I am in a space that i don't like. I feel pointless.
Over the last few months, a lot has happened. Christmas came and went, it was lonely but ok. The new year brought graduate school, I am now attending online and trying to manage the everyday stresses of work, school and family. I had to quite selling Scentsy, it was taking too much of my focus. I had to quit teaching yoga, too much time spent trying to be available to people who are inconsistent and don't show up for class. My marriage has been going through a tough transition. My friends are all over the globe and I am still at this dead end job. Everyday when I wake up, I dread my work day. I never used to feel that way, but after i was told that there would be contractors hired and I was not one of them, everything changed. I want to leave, but there is no place to go here, in metro detroit. I want to go to california, move my family and begin a life out there that at least will create a feeling of congruency on the depeest level. We would be legally married and steph could adopt little boy. But, my wife is not ready to leave. Most days it doesn't bother me, but days like today, when I am sleep deprived, bummed out and just fed up. I wish we were packing our last boxes and having a moving sale! I want to feel differently, I want to see the sunshine everyday. This is the worst time to be in MI. It is so damn gray here. I have my daylight lamp, I use it every day, some days are harder than others. I have been watching the olympics lately. I am so inspired and envious of the athletes. First because they make me think about all the things I can do with my life. Then I think about all the things I have not done yet. That sucks. I am usually acutely aware of everything I have not done anyways, so when I watch the olympic athletes, I am just reminded of all the things I chose instead of other things in my life.
I am going through some medical stuff, and it really is hard. I have this excessive bleeding that happens during my cycle and it is really affecting my quality of life. When I am bleeding I feel like I am being drained of all I have. I have some options for fixing the issue but none of them are good options. 1. I can get a D & C and go on hormones. I dont want to do that because hormones make me a nutty crazy mess. Thats the BEST version of what could happen. 2. I could get an ablation, this is a procedure where they either freeze or Burn the interior lining of the uterus to a point of infertility. The infertility part does not worry me but I just cant get past the burning/ freezing thing. 3. Hysterectomy, worse side effects such as, dry skin/scalp. hair loss, depression, emotional instability, loss of libido, the list goes on and on. So, for now, the main thing I am going to try is exercise, and progesterone cream, you rub it on you belly everyday ad it is supposed to help control the bleeding.
I dont know if its because I am coming up on 42, or if it is just another chapter of my very turbulent emotional life, but i feel like I really just dont want to have to make any decisions. I want the universe to just tell me- Do this, Do that, Call this person, accept this job, leave this place, etc. Is there an angel like that out there???
Over the last few months, a lot has happened. Christmas came and went, it was lonely but ok. The new year brought graduate school, I am now attending online and trying to manage the everyday stresses of work, school and family. I had to quite selling Scentsy, it was taking too much of my focus. I had to quit teaching yoga, too much time spent trying to be available to people who are inconsistent and don't show up for class. My marriage has been going through a tough transition. My friends are all over the globe and I am still at this dead end job. Everyday when I wake up, I dread my work day. I never used to feel that way, but after i was told that there would be contractors hired and I was not one of them, everything changed. I want to leave, but there is no place to go here, in metro detroit. I want to go to california, move my family and begin a life out there that at least will create a feeling of congruency on the depeest level. We would be legally married and steph could adopt little boy. But, my wife is not ready to leave. Most days it doesn't bother me, but days like today, when I am sleep deprived, bummed out and just fed up. I wish we were packing our last boxes and having a moving sale! I want to feel differently, I want to see the sunshine everyday. This is the worst time to be in MI. It is so damn gray here. I have my daylight lamp, I use it every day, some days are harder than others. I have been watching the olympics lately. I am so inspired and envious of the athletes. First because they make me think about all the things I can do with my life. Then I think about all the things I have not done yet. That sucks. I am usually acutely aware of everything I have not done anyways, so when I watch the olympic athletes, I am just reminded of all the things I chose instead of other things in my life.
I am going through some medical stuff, and it really is hard. I have this excessive bleeding that happens during my cycle and it is really affecting my quality of life. When I am bleeding I feel like I am being drained of all I have. I have some options for fixing the issue but none of them are good options. 1. I can get a D & C and go on hormones. I dont want to do that because hormones make me a nutty crazy mess. Thats the BEST version of what could happen. 2. I could get an ablation, this is a procedure where they either freeze or Burn the interior lining of the uterus to a point of infertility. The infertility part does not worry me but I just cant get past the burning/ freezing thing. 3. Hysterectomy, worse side effects such as, dry skin/scalp. hair loss, depression, emotional instability, loss of libido, the list goes on and on. So, for now, the main thing I am going to try is exercise, and progesterone cream, you rub it on you belly everyday ad it is supposed to help control the bleeding.
I dont know if its because I am coming up on 42, or if it is just another chapter of my very turbulent emotional life, but i feel like I really just dont want to have to make any decisions. I want the universe to just tell me- Do this, Do that, Call this person, accept this job, leave this place, etc. Is there an angel like that out there???
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Pain and death
Today is a sad day. My brother in laws sister Irene passed away yesterday from a rare form of Leukemia. She had a persistent cough that lasted two years. During that time she went to the doctor dozens of times, they kept saying she had a cold, a sinus infection, post nasal drip,etc... after 2 yrs they finally did a series of blood tests and found that she had leukemia and was acute stage meaning that 30% of her blood was already infected. She went through the chemo and radiation and went into remission, for 4 months, then she got a cold, couging. achy and fatigued. Well it wasnt a cold it was the end. She went into hospice care this thursday and died yesterday.
I found out from my sister, her shaky, broken voice ont he other side of the phone, trying to choke out...I R EE N N EE .....I s D E A D. The rush of emotion that came after that statement was one I have never experienced with Cindy. She is not emotional, she is not open like that. I think when my dad died, whatever part of her that had the ability to be open was permanently closed. I heard the sorrow in her voice, the pain that went beyond anything I had ever experienced and for a moment I felt connected to her in a way that I have never felt connected to her. Hearing her sobbing felt so desperate to me. Like I was absolutely helpless to assist in relieving her pain and completely unable to answer her questions. What are the answers to the Why's when someone dies. I suppose there aren't any. Since Irene was in hospice, her pain was managed until her body could not keep up with the slow decline that the medications were presenting and she finally succumbed to the peaceful rest that was awaiting her.
I told my sister, I don't want mom to die like that. I don't want her to gurgle and moan her way into obliviion. I want her to die when she is still my mom, not just some old person who is waiting to die. At times like these, there are so many things that run in and out of my mind. I want to cry every last tear out of my body, I want run, I want to shout and kick and vomit and collapse. When someone I know dies, it opens up the tunnel where all the dark pain is from the loss of my dad and I just want to run deep into the tunnel where I cannot see light from either end, and stay there in the horror. I want to try to feel the deepest pain, thinking in some way that if I do, I will honor my father and his memory. the risk is, can I find my way out of the tunnel? Will i ever be free from it?
I found out from my sister, her shaky, broken voice ont he other side of the phone, trying to choke out...I R EE N N EE .....I s D E A D. The rush of emotion that came after that statement was one I have never experienced with Cindy. She is not emotional, she is not open like that. I think when my dad died, whatever part of her that had the ability to be open was permanently closed. I heard the sorrow in her voice, the pain that went beyond anything I had ever experienced and for a moment I felt connected to her in a way that I have never felt connected to her. Hearing her sobbing felt so desperate to me. Like I was absolutely helpless to assist in relieving her pain and completely unable to answer her questions. What are the answers to the Why's when someone dies. I suppose there aren't any. Since Irene was in hospice, her pain was managed until her body could not keep up with the slow decline that the medications were presenting and she finally succumbed to the peaceful rest that was awaiting her.
I told my sister, I don't want mom to die like that. I don't want her to gurgle and moan her way into obliviion. I want her to die when she is still my mom, not just some old person who is waiting to die. At times like these, there are so many things that run in and out of my mind. I want to cry every last tear out of my body, I want run, I want to shout and kick and vomit and collapse. When someone I know dies, it opens up the tunnel where all the dark pain is from the loss of my dad and I just want to run deep into the tunnel where I cannot see light from either end, and stay there in the horror. I want to try to feel the deepest pain, thinking in some way that if I do, I will honor my father and his memory. the risk is, can I find my way out of the tunnel? Will i ever be free from it?
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