Glass half full.. slow leak..

My mom was the best. Really. She was. I know we are all supposed to blindly praise our moms and hide all the negative stuff.. but I don’t have anything to hide.

My mom taught me to be positive. Half full.. always. And that was on a bad day. The glass was usually full.

Someone once told me that I struggle with depression. I believe depression is when there isn’t a “reason”. The psychologist I went to after the death of my mom told me that. She said that I was mourning. That isn’t the same.

I have mourned half of my life. My dad died when I was in my 20’s and I lost my mom at 40. (Not even mentioning the many other loved ones I have lost.) My brother has had undiagnosed issues all of his life and is mentally unstable. And he has been missing for a year.

That is just some of my dirt. I figure there is some stuff I will keep to myself. We all know that there is a moment when blogging feels like a journal.. except that it is public.

Somehow, when I list this I hear my mom’s voice. Telling me of all that I still have. Saying that it’ll be OK, that Life continues.. until it doesn’t. Just like that.

For today, I have my health. My girls and husband are all doing well. I have a roof over my head and even still have just enough money for electricity and an old Mac to surf the web, reach out to friends, and write my thoughts for strangers to read.

Despite the leakage, I know my mom is a beautiful angel with sparkly wings refilling my glass when I am not looking.

And although I have my issues with God-I thank him daily. I thank him for having given me the greatest dad for 20 years and the totally best mom for 40.

That’s how I will help my daughters keep their glass full.. from all the love I received early on. A Mother’s love that keeps on giving.

Happy Mother’s Day!

.. to everyone that has/had/is one.

Tantrums are Contagious

My daughter is an Aspie. She ‘has’ Asperger’s. It’s on the Autism spectrum. All just words. Basically, my daughter needs me. And I have no problem with that. It’s just I don’t think like her. I don’t want to say she doesn’t think like me. Who is to say that my thoughts are all that anyway. My daughter is creative and funny and comes to her own conclusions. Not always what someone might say is the “right” answer. But for her it is.

She is so pure. In emotion. Thought. Everything is telegraphed. What freedom there must be in that. Maybe more of a mixed blessing. To be able to feel the emotion in the moment. See, there I struggle. When the crying starts I can barely keep my composure. I feel her emotions. All of them. Even if we are crying over spilled milk. For her it is a pure emotion and I get it. So maybe not a blessing..

I love my children equally. Funny that my daughter gets jealous of her sibling. She says that I focus and spend more time with her sister. She doesn’t remember the extra attention I gave her in the early years. Practicing words and building blocks. And even now with IEP meetings and extra support in school.

Well, one day at a time. Hugs and kisses to make it through. And once in a while a timeout for me, too.

A mom is what I am.. is it who I am, too?

My girls are getting bigger.  They don’t need me to do things for them 24 hours a day.  Yeah, I am still the superego letting them know when not to fight or what they should or shouldn’t do..  but, they can do many things without me- when they choose to.

So, now that I am not needed to dress and bathe my girls– what do I do?  I really am not sure.  I used to have many interests.  I have actually transferred many of them to my girls.  I watch as they do crafts or draw manga and do all the things I taught them because I love those things myself.

How do I “find” myself?  Maybe I’m not lost.. I am right here.  Under the layers of responsibility to family and motherhood there is a person.  How do I get back there?  I know of only one way.  To be alone.  I need to spend some quality time with myself and rekindle that relationship.  To know what makes me tick.  Wasn’t difficult when I was younger.  I would wake up daily with the wonder and thrill of what possibilities existed for that day.  Now I wake up wondering what I could fit in before I am needed.

So, time to make a hotel reservation.  Maybe NY.  It’s where I grew up.  One of the 5 boroughs.. a quick ride into the heart of New York City where I don’t ever remember anyone saying they were “bored”.  I will visit museums and walk in Chinatown.  All without having to worry about managing to keep 3 other family members happy and engaged.  Just me.

86 Days of Summer.

86 days of summer.

To some that may sound like an endless amount of sun and fun. Oh yes, I do expect to have some great times. Make some memories. However, of those 86 days I am sure maybe 10 will be unforgettable summer memories.. the rest.. I am just not so sure.

I always start out with a plan. I will call it Plan A. Ok.. June we will unwind a bit. Enjoy a carefree daily schedule. July will be a little more scheduled with music camp and planned events. August we will realize we need to take a quick vacation before time is up.

Well, that is the plan anyway. What actually happens is that nothing goes according to plan. There is no schedule. The doorbell and phone rings all day long. They are invited out from the minute they wake up and because there is no school and homework to use as leverage it feels like all reasoning goes out the window. My girls think that being inside the house is a punishment. A punishment that involves watching hours of TV, playing with their ipods or using the computer.

Well. Time to prepare Plan B. Plan B consists of just showering every morning and just driving away with my girls for at least a few hours a day. This will ensure that the girls and I get some quality time and that they remember that mom is not just the enforcer. Drive anywhere. Anywhere that I can sit with my girls and have a conversation.

Plan C will be making sure all electronics fail for a couple of weeks at a time.

Will let you know how that goes.