Everything is most certainly NOT under control

I feel like it's all slipping away. The harder I try to maintain control, the worse it gets.

Quarantine #1 due to the 7th grade basketball team.

My mother is aging and slipping into her own world where we cannot reach her.

My "adult" son failed out of his first semester at college.

There's a global pandemic and my social 13-year-old son isn't handling isolation well.

My job is in jeopardy because I don't have the right political affiliation.

My husband is a saint who takes care of so much...and yet I can't stop finding fault (only a very small portion of which is actually deserved).

Quarantine #2 due to 18-year-old's poor decision making skills.

Christmas is postponed for, at best, 14 days. At worst...forever.

That feeling of death stalking me is back. The fear is back.

I'd like to say I'm at peace no matter what happens. But that would be a lie. 

If something bad happens to my family (again) I don't know what I will do. 

The worst feeling is that I could've tried harder...done better...been kinder...seen more...worried less...

COVID emotions

Myles has been asked by the Middle School to quarantine due to possible covid exposure from an adult at his school. He will be in quarantine through his 13th birthday next Friday. By extension, I will be in quarantine because that\"s the safest thing to do. I can\"t help but feel all the feelings...

~I want to rant. Wear the damn mask. It doesn\"t take anything from you and it\"s such a small ask.

~I want to thank the contact who DID wear a mask. If we don\"t get sick it will be because s/he wore a mask and followed health protocols. I hope s/he has mild symptoms and recovers quickly.

~I want to cry because Sam can\"t come home from college for the weekend and Myles will miss his first basketball games (and any sort of birthday celebration). It\"s nothing in the grand scheme...I know...so many have lost so much...it all makes me so sad.

~I want to acknowledge my privilege. I currently have a job that allows me the flexibility to work from home so that I can do my part to stop this damn pandemic. (Thanks

Cecilia

) I also have resources and friends I can call on to help with the things that need done as the world keeps moving without us for two weeks.

~This isn\"t the worst thing to ever happen to me...so I want to recognize that with a grateful heart.

~I want to draft my will...because there is that fear.

~I want to talk about veterans...and how our society doesn\"t take care of them...and how shameful that is. See Faces of Covid on Twitter for profiles of veterans who\"ve been lost to the pandemic. See

Stop Soldier Suicide

and

National Coalition for Homeless Veterans

on Facebook. It\"s nice...the photos and the "thank you\"s"...but we can and should do better.

Living through a pandemic is an emotional roller coaster, that is for sure. Thanks for listening. I\"ll try to keep the belly-aching to a minimum this next week or so. [Posted on Facebook on Veteran\"s Day 2020]

Blog add:

~I want to complain about the election in which an incredibly qualified attorney did not get enough votes to retain her seat. I want to scream about how the person who did get the votes called and expected that she would be trained by the current officeholder! But I can\"t, because friends of friends...you know how that goes...the grapevine in a rural community is a nasty mess. And I need my job for the time being.

~I want to talk about being 48 years old and not wanting my career anymore. About being disillusioned with public service and my fellow public servants. I want to dream about possibilities that are far away from here...that make me smile instead of giving me migraine headaches.

~I want to talk about how it feels to have death constantly stalking you. Waiting for you to forget a mask or miss a streetlight or eat chicken that isn\"t fully cooked. I\"m exhausted. A teeny tiny virus/bacteria/germ killed my babies. I know the power of a teeny tiny virus. I keep trying to avoid the thoughts...but they always find me. Paranoia. Fear. Grief. Sadness. They won\"t leave me alone!

~I want to collapse somewhere and have someone take care of me without having to worry that they are just covering their insecurities too...knowing that they can handle it...and it WILL be ok.

Life after loss with an 8-year-old

Myles: "Mom, what does TLC mean? Oh...yeah...right...Travis Leo Colgan. What's Dad bringing home for lunch?"

Where we are today

So...I can see I've only used this place as a dumping ground for a while. I know it's no fun to read...so I locked it down so nobody can read. I'd say it defeats the purpose of writing it...but I'm not sure what the purpose of writing it actually is anymore.

The last we left our little hamlet, the older boy was entering middle school and the younger was entering kindergarten. Then there was a lot of random grief and self-pity here for a couple years. And now here we are. The older boy is on the verge of graduating middle school and the younger boy is astonishing us all with his mastery of second grade skills. So here's the roundup 2016 Xmas letter I didn't send...for my benefit and yours.

Sam has not adjusted well to the demands of middle school. For the most part, his grades are average because he is not motivated and he has ZERO organizational skills. I'm hoping he'll get there...to that point where he "gets it" and is willing to make the personal investment. But I fear he's a little more laid back than that (like his father...which is very distressing for me/the planner-and-rule-follower). He plays the trombone really well for his age...and he seems to enjoy it (we just paid it off yesterday...so I hope he enjoys it for a while longer). In exchange for a car ride home from school every day, he is now practicing...which I hope will serve him well in high school band.

Myles proudly told me that he is the BEST reader in his class and he is reading at a FIFTH grade level (he is the ONLY one in his class who is allowed to read that level). He has terrible handwriting...an inherited trait that no amount of practice is going to overcome, I'm afraid. That's ok...he's learning early that it's ok to not be perfect. He has decided that this year our new year's resolution is "to be more positive (yay!)." I'm along for the ride...and it has definitely helped me find a smile a couple of times I probably wouldn't have otherwise.

Steve is Steve. Unshakable. Unbreakable. Like a rock. This is good and bad...but neither of us is a saint...so I guess I'll leave that alone.

Me? Well...I'm not sure who I am anymore. I hate my job at the Prosecutor's office, but I can't afford to quit it without causing further financial damage (our bankruptcy was just discharged...so I should at least pretend to be an adult for a while). I love my job as a photographer...but my business is not at the stage I would like it to be...and that is frustrating me somewhat. I'm overweight and I wear a fitbit...but my treadmill is very very very quiet. My children would love to eat meals at the dining room table...but when I sit at the table, I see all the things wrong with my house [the home improvement sort of stopped for a while]...so I eat upstairs in bed or in the office (I REALLY want to modify this behavior...I think it will be good for all of us...but the house just needs so much work and it's exhausting just thinking about it). I don't think this is depression...I think this is mid-life...and, quite honestly, it ain't all that wonderful. I know I could do things to live with more intention...be present...create meaning...zzzzzzzz. It's hard to get excited about anything when you realize the best Christmas gift you received was a humidifier. I mean...really...I love that thing...and now I feel OLD!

This is fun...I think I'm going to try to make this a habit. I feel all kinds of guilt and sadness that so many years were lost in grief and sadness. So I'm working hard to make up for it. Disneyland in 2014. Washington DC in 2015. Goal...Ireland in 2017 or 2018 (fingers crossed). But I also need to do better with the daily record. I need to create something so my children will know that I wasn't always this miserable creature with a broken heart. Honestly...the BEST moments of every day are when I arrive home and I hear, "Is that mom? MOMMY!" [and they come running to greet me with hugs and kisses...both of them]. I love those moments...and I want to remember them forever. And since my mind is less and less likely to actually REMEMBER anything...I think I should write these things down.

Yeah...more fun...less woe-is-me! Here we go!

We did it!

We survived the first go round of elementary school! (*HIGH FIVE*)

It was touch and go there more than a few times...but we managed to kick ass effectively parent an A/B student who tested for advanced placement in middle school. Sam refers to himself as our "test subject." No doubt this poor kid is going to need therapy at some point in his life.

Holy crap...middle school!

And before anyone rains on my little one-person parade and reminds me that my baby starts kindergarten in the fall, let me warn you that I WILL hurt you.

And yes, I'm well aware that I probably need therapy too.

Happy summer!

Yesterday, today, tomorrow

Yesterday marks three years since my last baby silently left my body.

Today marks the day my five-year-old very loudly registered for kindergarten.

I can't wait to see what tomorrow brings.

Decorating the xmas tree

Sam: Myles, do you know that you have two other brothers?

Myles: No.

Sam: Do you wanna know their names?

Myles: Yes.

Sam: Alex and Travis.

Myles: Alex and Travis.

Sam: Yep...but they died.

Myles: [blank stare]

Sometimes I don't know whether to cry or laugh.

Reading Program Baseball

Parade on the field...

There's Mom!

The Star Spangled Banner...


At first, Myles was perplexed...

But then there was popcorn...

And hot dogs...


And silliness...



And cotton candy...

And smiles! Just LOOK at that smile!

Life is good

Wow! It's been five days since I last posted and you probably have the impression I spent them curled up in bed crying my eyes out. Quite the contrary. Baseball, animal rescue, baseball picnic, board meeting...I am keeping busy and feeling good. Yes, there are moments of sadness, anger and frustration that I usually work out on this blog (for which I should probably apologize more than I do), but generally I'm enjoying life.

It's funny, someone said to me today (after the "I'm sorry"), "You have a lot of blessings in your life...there's nothing like a hard time to make you really appreciate them." And I felt like she was right...and I didn't get angry at the thought. I didn't cry telling her about Little Bug and I actually said, "Well, that's the way life is, I suppose, good and bad." And I meant it.

Last night I watched Sam and Myles being silly and playing on our big king-sized bed...throwing pillows and hiding under blankets...and giggling...oh...the giggling! And I felt that old happiness that I thought might be gone forever. In that moment, I realized it's ok. It's ALL ok. If this is what our family ends up looking like...well...it's pretty great.

It's Mother's Day...go fly a kite

Yeah, sometimes she does

Rockin' it out!

Just look up

I was feeling particularly sorry for myself when I heard the rumble of the lawn tractor. I looked out my window to see this...(I think I have a similar photo of Sam when he was about the same age.)

Perfect Moments

It's supposed to be Perfect Moment Monday. And I'm supposed to post a picture. But my camera and I have been working on Animal Protective League business and haven't snapped even a simple shot of the boys lately (a fact for which they are extremely happy...I think they think I take too many pictures of them). I've been having a lot of "perfect moments" lately...just haven't taken a photograph of them.

Walking into the house after a long day of volunteering and having Sam and Myles run the length of the house toward me with smiles on their faces and their little arms outstretched for long-overdue hugs.

Driving up the driveway after work, seeing horses in the pasture, Steve on the porch, one little boy wearing his bicycle helmet and pretending to ride his skateboard, another littler boy swinging a plastic golf club around like a samurai sword.

Walking out of the grocery store seeing Sam in the passenger seat and Myles on Steve's lap in the driver's seat of our little blue minivan. Steve rolls down the window and they all smile and wave and say, "Hi mommy!"

These moments all seem so perfect.

It's funny because there was a time when I was convinced there would never be perfect moments again. And somehow, despite what/who is missing, it is enough. It is perfect in its own regard. There is no looking back.

But there IS nervous looking forward. Do I dare tempt fate? Do I dare to think that somehow that these moments are not YET perfect? That they can be even better? It is a strange place to be.

Mommy ouch???

The other day I was using my doppler and Myles kept insisting, "Choo-choo...choo-choo." There was something that stopped me from saying the word baby. I don't know why. But today I just jumped right in with both feet when he gave me the opening...

Myles(spying my belly stretch marks): "Mommy...ouch? hurt?"

Me: "Nope, no ouch. You know why my belly looks like that?"

Myles: "Why?"

Me: "There's a baby in there."

Myles(eyes wide in disbelief): "No."

A few minutes later...

Me: "Myles tell Sam about Mommy's belly."

Myles: "No."

Sam: "Myles is there a baby in Mommy's belly?"

Myles(hesitantly): "Uh-huh."

A few minutes later...

Me: "Myles tell Daddy about Mommy's belly."

Myles(enthusiastically): "Baby!"

There's no turning back now. *gulp*

Second (& third) child syndrome

I don't remember when I first felt Myles move in my belly. I even looked in the archives of this blog to see if I'd even made a notation...and I can't find one. I realize I've taken about 1/2 as many photos of him as I did his brother (though I have to say the quality is SO much better). Poor kid's baby book...well...at least I bought one (on the way to the hospital), right?

So in an effort to be a better record-keeper, and in an effort to NOT freak out again like I did last week, I'm recording in this space that I felt the baby move yesterday...a lot. I've felt my own body's reaction to what must be movement for the last week or so. But this was the first time I thought, "THAT was baby."

Of course today is a whole other story. I THINK I've felt Little Bug a time or two...but it's definitaly not like it was yesterday (not freaking out, not freaking out, not freaking out).

Maybe I'll work on Myles' baby book today.

***I don't know when I first felt Alex or Travis move either...but I try not to compare those pregnancies. Living baby to living baby are the only comparisons I feel comfortable with. I KNOW it's irrational...but there ya have it.***

Me did it

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I had a realization this morning, when the house was quiet and I was contemplating the snowy day ahead...I haven't been sharing things here because I'm suffering from what amounts to survivor guilt. I have two lovely living children, but I have friends who don't...so I feel guilty sharing stories about my children. It is difficult to stash the guilt away so that it doesn't affect the way I feel about my own children...or at least the pride and joy I feel in/for/about them. I'm going to make an effort to change this state of mind. So I apologize in advance if I go overboard with the cutesy kid stories.
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Myles has started, this past week, to find pride in his own accomplishments. He does something all by himself, puts both arms in the air, and exclaims, "Me did it!" It is one of the cutest things I have ever seen in my life.
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Sam got his much-wished-for snow day today. He played video games, watched tv, and is now...reading a book! Sure, it's a book about Star Wars...but it's still a book!
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Little Bug is still doing ok. I got another ultrasound picture but I'm entirely too lazy to scan it in and post it.
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Build A Bear

The machine was a bit loud, but it didn't deter Sam too much...

Myles, however, was terrified...

Ultimately, though, I think both customers left happy...

Sometimes they amaze me

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Sam and I had a deal. He could buy $10 worth of books from the book order and I would give him $10 to buy books at the book fair. We talked and he asked for a couple more dollars for the book fair so he could buy "a couple extra books." I love books...I love owning books...reading and re-reading. So naturally, I sent him with a few extra dollars to the book fair ($15). He came home with one $4 book, a plastic pointer with a rubber hand/finger on the end, and four pencils. *sigh*
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Myles was standing on tiptoes, stretching to reach something just beyond his grasp.

I said, "Myles, you're too short baby."

"Huh?"

"You're too short...you need to grow."

"Grow?"

"You need to grow...get taller."

"Oh"

He ran out of the room for about 30 seconds and reappeared with the stepstool...set it down...stepped up on it...and voila. Smart kid.
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Sam continues to struggle with keeping his mouth shut during school. He repeatedly comes home with work he did not finish...because he was talking.
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Myles is talking. It seems he may have been talking all along...I just haven't been paying attention. His pronunciation is terrible except for a few regularly-used words, but he really makes sense if you know what you're hearing. And now that I'm clued in, we can work on making the words sound better.
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Two years

Happy Birthday to our baby.