Monthly Archives: July 2014

Scott – Part 2 A LETTER FOR LATER (1991)

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Scotty - kindergarten 2 Scotty,

Tomorrow afternoon you and I will be going to your kindergarten orientation. You’re going to Elms Elementary School. Mrs. Huffman, your teacher is very kind. You will be in her morning class from 9:15 until 11:50 each day. I can’t believe this is happening already!

I took this summer off so that I could spend time with you before you started school and it went so very quickly – just like the past five years… Have I taught you enough?… Did I teach you the right things?… Will you make friends easily?… Are you ready for all of this?… Am I?

I hope someday you will realize how very much I love you. I want you to be independent, confident, and self-assured more than almost anything, but there is a part of me wants to scoop you up and hold you in my arms, and never let you leave me. I am a little ashamed to admit that. I just want to be my little boy’s mommy and keep you from any hurt or danger.

Kids will be mean to you. You will get your feelings hurt. You will have embarrassing moments. You may not always know the answer and I won’t always be there to help you. You’ll learn to cope. You’ll shine. You’ll grow up – much too fast. You’ll need me less and less, and I will be very proud of you – and that part of me will want to scoop you up…

It’s a difficult thing to create a life and try to give him everything he needs and then to let go, knowing you can’t protect him from the world…

I believe in you. I know you are ready. You are brilliant; you get along well with others. You understand the world much better than I do at times. You are such a big boy. You are not a bully, but you know how to stand up for yourself. I’m very proud of you, my little old man. You have a heart of gold and you mean the world to me.

I pray God gives me the strength to be strong for you on Wednesday when you become a kindergartner. I’m afraid when you get on that bus I’ll fall to pieces. – Isn’t that silly?! I feel such anxiety, and I’m not completely sure why. I want to be confident, so that you will be. It’s so important to me that this be a positive experience for you. It’s the beginning of a whole new wonderful world of learning for you – one I know you will blossom in!

This is a momentous occasion in your life! You will never be the same after starting school. Change and growth are good, but never easy – especially for your mommy. That part of me still wants to scoop you up…

I love you, my Scotty-boy, more than life itself. Please take that with you. Be kind and good, and life will return the favor. You are my precious, wonderful little boy with so much to give. I will always love you, as you always tell me, “more than infinity…”

Mommy

…………………… HIS………………….

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Opinionated, educated, sensitive

strong, a leader, fragile

“That girl’s got moxie!”

Betrayed by her sisters

Shunned by her brothers

“That woman’s a Bitch!”

Shame, Fear, Loneliness

Strength, Peace, Frailty

“That child is mine.”

girls leaders

Scott – Part 1 First Night Home

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scott

 

 

 Scotty Baby Tux

 

 

 

 

 

 

I remember bringing him home from the hospital, 28 years to the day, like it happened last week. He had that beautiful jaundiced skin that looked so healthy to this new mama and he kept curling up in a ball most of his waking hours. Taking his picture proved a difficult task! I honestly couldn’t believe that the people at the hospital let me take a baby home. The first night home in July was almost the end of me…

We came home to the big old farmhouse that we had rented upon our return to our small hometown just a few months earlier. I kept hoping that the day would go smoothly and the night would never come. My parents lived about 5 miles from our home and we had loads of other family and friends very nearby whom we could call for help at any time – Except after 11:00 or so at night when I understood I could only call in the case of an emergency or the world would find out I was not new mom of the year material.

Our first day was filled with diapering, a few visitors, nursing, and sleeping – Scott, not his mama! I watched him sleep for hours, fretting over any buzzing fly that would come near him or loud noise that might frighten him. He was a wonderful baby all day long.

My mother called just before the 11:00 news came on that night. I told her everything was fine. The truth is I kept her on the phone as long as I could because I was terrified of being alone with my baby ALL NIGHT LONG! After we said our good-nights, Scott finished nursing. I had changed his diaper and I hoped beyond hope that sweet slumber would be upon my precious baby within minutes. He lay in my arms as I sang a lullaby and in a short while, his eyes began to flutter and he gradually fell sleep.

I slowly and ever so quietly ascended the narrow, wooden stairway with this new little blessing protectively in my new mama’s arms. I gently laid him in the beautiful cradle that my sister-in-love had crafted with her own hands for her babies and now generously let me borrow for my new bundle of joy. I stared down at the gift I had been blessed with and love, like I had never known before first becoming a mama just days before, washed over me. I knew that I would always do whatever I could to make his life the best I could and to ensure that he never doubted how completely he was loved.

I stepped into the bathroom to get ready for bed, leaving the door ajar so that I could hear any noises that may come from his cradle. I just kept thinking nervously, “What am I going to do with this baby if he starts crying? What if we both fall asleep and he chokes and I don’t wake up?  What if a bug bites him and hurts him?  Why the heck would they send a baby home with ME?! I have NO idea what I’m doing! This is NOT the same as babysitting!!”

So, naturally, my son started wailing within minutes! I picked him up. I tried to feed him and that didn’t work. I checked his diaper – Dry! I rocked him, walked him, patted him, sang to him, talked to him, laid him down, and held him.

NOTHING worked. He just kept on crying and crying for hours and hours.

Finally, just before 5:00 a.m., I was at the end of my rope, so I walked downstairs where his daddy was sleeping soundly on the couch. I woke him up with tears in my eyes and said, “I just can’t do this right. I need you to take him for a little while. He doesn’t want me. I can’t make him feel better.”

His daddy took him and Scott continued to scream for about 30 more minutes and then, silence… I sneaked down the stairs and there was my tiny, exhausted baby fast asleep on his snoring daddy’s heaving chest. I dragged myself up the stairs and slept gloriously and fitfully for the next two hours.

The following afternoon I confided in a friend how horrible our first night home was and she told me that the trick was to not let my baby know how nervous I was feeling because she had heard that babies react strongly to their mother’s emotions. She told me to “fake it until I could make it.” It was sage advice. I told myself the rest of the day that this night was going to be different, wonderful. I decided we would have a restful night and I refused to worry about it anymore.

Scott went to sleep like a little angel that night. He woke up every 4 hours and nursed before falling right back to sleep again. From that night on (until he was a teenager!), he only kept me awake when he was getting a new tooth. On those nights, we stayed up ALL night long together and I loved every minute of helping my precious boy through the pain of welcoming a new tooth into his sweet little mouth! By the time he was a month old, he slept 10 hours straight every night.

I’m not sure if he had something terribly wrong the first night and it never happened again or if it was just a coincidence that Scott was a perfect baby after that first night. I know that I believed that it was simply mind over matter for more than seven years until I had my Hannah, and in spite of the “real” veteran confidence I had, she screamed her head off all night for no good reason on the regular!

I am his and he is mine…

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This is a HUGE year for me. I had my 50th birthday in January and in just a bit more than a month my Honey and I will be celebrating our 25th wedding anniversary. I have been married to him ½ of my entire life!   I have joked about being married to him for 1/2 of my life when I was 5o since I can remember!  How did it get here already?!

There are times when it has felt like it has been twice that long. The months when we can’t seem to find each other or remember who the other person is anymore, days when we can’t agree on anything, the times when we just get on each other’s nerves all of the time, and we are just plain old ugly to each other have felt endless. Those times don’t happen very often, especially now, but when they have, it is excruciating….

There have been a very few times when I couldn’t even remember why I wanted to be with him in the first place because I was wounded so deeply. Those times never lasted very long, but I’d be lying if I said they never happened.        Marriage is hard. It’s also long – sometimes…  if you’re lucky and committed, but long means SO much can and will happen.

I think one of my most favorite parts of being married to my Honey is that we’ve worked through huge piles of our junk and decided that we are committed to being really present in this relationship, not just surviving it and staying married for a long time.  We always had a pretty good marriage on the outside, but it was pretty icky a lot of the time on the inside. I couldn’t admit this to myself for a very long time. I think that’s why I was such a good actress and contributed to the pretty marriage façade others saw for so many years.

I remember when things got the worst they had ever been and I was wavering between walking out the door and staying almost every other day, someone told me that if I chose to stay and really worked to make things better, God would bless my marriage and it would be more wonderful than I could imagine. I thought that person was on crack, honestly. I just couldn’t see past all of my pain enough to see anything ever getting better. I was just beginning to grasp how much of a lie my marriage had been for the first almost 20 years. After being given some more advice, I decided to just wait, to give myself time to heal some and to not make decisions based on pure emotion at such a low point. That was some of the best advice I have ever gotten. It saved my life and my marriage.

During counseling my Honey and I decided that we were all in. After all, we didn’t really have anything left to lose. I remember thinking that it truly couldn’t get any worse and I needed to know that I had put it all out there before I could walk away with a clear conscience: my fears, my insecurities, my sins, my needs, ALL my junk with complete integrity, no mixed signals, no games, no protecting myself.  My Honey did the same in a big way.  I think it was probably the first time in our whole marriage that we just depended on God to see us through.

I think we both felt like we were seeing each other for the first time when we first began to really talk candidly in counseling. There were times when he would admit something to me that I had questioned him about for years and I felt like he handed me back my reality and after an initial burst of anger, I was in awe of his honesty and vulnerability. Other times I was almost unbelieving when his deep love for me would come shining through. It took me a long time to fully trust his love for me. It took him almost as long to trust my love for him. The irony about that is that it was mostly because of our own junk that we felt this way, not because of the other person’s actions. I think that’s probably true of most relationships…

Our beginning wasn’t picture perfect.  We had both gone through ugly divorces just a year before we got married. We also each brought a precious toddler son into our union.  We dated almost 5 whole months when we got married (What in the world were we thinking?!).  We were both in our last year of college and my parents were living with me at the time!  Much of our first several years of marriage were spent in the courtroom dealing with constant custody and visitation issues.  The attorney bills were astronomical. Blending a family is not all Bradybunch-ish, I can tell you that!  We loved each other very much and that was the glue that kept us together in the early part of our marriage; that and God’s mercy.

There are things I have always loved about my Honey.  He has always made me laugh more than anyone else – especially when I didn’t even know I needed to.  I love that he loves to talk.  He’s like a best girlfriend, only SO MUCH BETTER!!  He has always been a gentleman.  He holds doors open, puts me on the safe side of the path whenever we’re walking outside, and always takes care of me when we go out, holding my chair out for me, getting my drinks, etc.  He has always been a loving daddy to our babies.  He rocked ‘em, diapered ‘em and coached their teams.  I don’t think he ever missed a school or a sporting event that he knew about.  I love that he works so hard for our family because he wants us to be comfortable.

There are even more things that I love about him now because they were hard won by us.  I love his willingness to put me and others first.  I love his humility which has replaced his angry insecurity. I love his presence with our family and his commitment to our health.  I adore his commitment to our marriage – its stability, its growth, its happiness and its authenticity.  I love that  now he understands that our family would rather spend time with him than have extra money and he is trusting God more to take care of us.  He still works VERY hard, but he puts relationships before money now.  He really seeks God now and is willing to be authentic with other Christians in a way he wasn’t able to be a few years ago.  I am mad about the way he bakes and cooks with our children!

Most of the time I can’t believe how quickly 25 years have zoomed by.  How did we have time to raise 5 children, move across the country and get this old?!  I can’t wrap my head around where we started, where we are now, and how we got here.  It’s been quite a ride and I don’t ever want to get off.  It still amazes me that this is my life. I get to wake up and live this life.  I get to be known and loved. Does it get any better?… I don’t think so…

 

I love my husband more than I thought possible.  Apparently, the lady on crack knew what she was talking about!  I like him more than anyone else in the whole world.  He’s strong, protective, hilarious, gorgeous, smart, sweet, kind, thoughtful, honoring, talented, silly, and beautiful inside and out.

He fought for me.

I am his and he is mine…

for at least another 25 years…

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Honey & Me Shady Grove 2014Honey & Me Laughing

 

 

Forgiving that little brat…

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I find that whenever I write about my childhood or almost anytime before I was a “grownup,” I have a tendency to apologize for who I used to be, almost as if I was her just yesterday.  I still feel HUGE shame for the person I was pre-adulthood. I didn’t torture small (or large) animals as a child or anything, but I was outspoken, pushy and downright mean to some of the girls who were bullies back in the day.  I was a kid…

I read this really neat thing on a dear friend’s (who I have known since my days of shame) facebook wall:

 

Forgive Yourself

Now, while I think this is a bit of an oversimplification because I’m a 12-Step girl and I believe in making amends and all of that, my first thought when I read this was, “AMEN!!” … and then I realized the person who judges me most by my past is me.

Even while I type this I am imagining old school friends, family members, and others from my past reading this and I have this overwhelming urge to explain why I was so awful or to justify the many bratty things I did.  I want to say, “I’m so sorry for the way I acted!  Please forgive me and know I’m not that girl anymore!  I’m a good person now.”  I was a child…

I’m not that girl anymore, nor have I been for a very long time.  She was not as terrible as I was led to believe she was.  She was NOT evil.  She was very sweet at times.  She wanted to be accepted for who she was.  She wanted to be loved unconditionally and feel like she was even likeable at times.  She wanted to be really good at something – anything! – And have her family, especially her mother, notice it and be proud of her.  She defended the underdogs always.  She was scared and insecure ALL of the time, even though she was a phenomenol actress and appeared to be overly confident to other children.  She loved to argue with people because she was pretty good at that… but an argumentative girl is not something people notice in a good way, nor is it something to be proud of, apparently…

I left the town I grew up in a long time ago.  Part of the reason I did that was to leave it all behind.  I wanted a fresh start.  I wanted to be a new person and I couldn’t really get a clean slate there.  In the decades since then it has been a rare new friend of mine who doesn’t hear about what an awful person I was back then.  I guess I thought if I confessed it enough, it was a kind of repentance.  I wanted my present friends to know who I used to be.  I wanted to be upfront and transparent.  I wanted them to have an out… 

I wish I could tell you I was protecting them, but I think it was me I was protecting.  No one wants to be friends with girls who are bossy and argumentative.  Right?

When I write it all down, I realize how silly this all is because it was SO long ago and I’m not that girl anymore… Well, I am outspoken if it’s something that I feel really passionate about…  Maybe I am that girl.  I’m just grown up, my edges have rounded out, my heart has been broken and softened, I REALLY love people, some of them even love me back, and I’ve found a few things that I’m REALLY good at.  He loves me unconditionally and that’s enough. 

I think of friends who have been through so much more as children – sexual abuse, loss of parents or other loved ones,  divorce  – and I feel like a drama queen.  This is how I’ve stayed in this rut for so many years.  I minimize my pain.  I think a lot of us do that when we become adults.  We file our childhood pain under “Get Over It” and move ahead… only not really.  It’s there.  It always shows up even if we don’t recognize it.  It’s there and leaving, burying, pretending, none of those things heal it.  Pulling it out, really looking at it with blatant honesty, forgiving the necessary parties, and then putting it to rest forever or until we’re ready to deal with a little more of it – that’s the way to heal it.

And, still, I haven’t forgiven myself.  I’m not sure how to do that, not even sure how to begin.  I just know it’s looming in the background and affecting my present relationships.  I know that I still feel genuine embarrassment at the little girl I was (sometimes).  I know that this may all sound very silly to someone who is not me, and that’s okay.   If one of my friends came to me and told me that s/he was struggling with forgiving the person s/he was 30-40 years ago or more, I would tell my friend to let go of that and embrace their present self.  I would reassure him/her that no person in her right mind would still be holding a grudge against a child this many years later for things that children do.  Right?

Right?