October 14, 2011 ~ Day 309 Pivoting, Pivotal

I've missed a lot of days with this blog lately.

Happily I've come to a place emotionally, after working on this project for nearly a year, where I can truly accept that.

It isn't perfect and I'll be working wrapping up the missing posts for a few months after we hit December 10, 2011.

In a way, I'm secretly happy about that. It would be rather abrupt to stop writing altogether... especially after a year full of sharing quiet confidences in the wee hours of the night.

Today I had a really special moment with my smaller son's preschool teacher. I'd raced by her to grab him on the playground, with only 20 minutes remaining to get across town to pick up his elder brother from the 1st grade. We were running late as usual.

She stopped me though, and I could tell by the warm and effusive smile that whatever she needed to tell me was positive.

"I was going to send a note home this afternoon," she said, "So I'm really glad to see you. Your son is doing so well! He's really begun to thrive in class. He has mastered a number of skills recently (she then gave me a list) and he has also finally started talking a lot to the other students and to the other teacher and me."

"Yay!" I cheered. "He's warming up! It sounds like he finally feels comfortable here. I'm thrilled."

Indeed, just last night our little boy had pitched an enormous fit when his daddy suggested that he might want to stay home with me today. Enormous crocodile tears rolled down his cheeks (which had turned bright red from caterwauling).

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I want to GO TO SCHOOL!!!!!!!!!!!!! Tomorrow is SHARING DAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TAKE ME TO SCHOOL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

"Wow, hon-" my husband had turned to me. "I think he really likes his school."

* * *

It's great when these parental gambles we take actually pan out. There have been so many times over the past four months when our son actually didn't want to go to school. He even got injured thanks to his ardent desire NOT to go to school.

We kept sending him back though, with a smile every morning and a hug from Mommy and a fully stocked lunchbox. Now - wonderfully - our faith in the school has paid off and it brought tears to my eyes today when, as I was signing him out of school for the day, a little boy yelled at me

"He's MY FRIEND!" pointing at my son. "HE'S MY FRIEND!"

"That's great! Who are you?"

"I'm Remmy... HE" (gesturing emphatically in our direction) "is MY friend."

My son grinned from ear to ear.

At that moment, I could tell that what his preschool teacher had confided was 100% right on. Our boy has really turned a corner.

* * *

If anyone asked me right now for a sixty second window on our lives right now, I'd have to say in all honesty that I'd had no idea just how positive this move to our new home would end up being for us.

I feel so lucky, blessed, relaxed and focused.

So many good things have come into our lives with this move. New friends, new supports for our family (Moms group at the church, play therapist)... tutoring work for me... amazing schools for our kids. Exercise, sports teams, financial solvency, new philosophies of being, renewed health and time to devote to both the marriage and the children.

Things are solid; Real.

When I look back to where we were a year ago, it really feels like a different family living a totally different life. As a now healthy-motivated-optimistic woman on the go, I have trouble remembering the sickly, depressed woman I used to be very clearly; but I do remember that things weren't going well. (I'm good at blocking out bad memories... love focusing on the good ones!)

Not like we've suddenly become perfect...

It's just that, somehow this lifestyle and community are really healthy for us. We are each supported here in our dreams, needs, desires and even flaws. We've found an equilibrium in daily life that had been sorely lacking.

Last October I didn't know that it was even possible for us to be this happy; this contented as both individuals and a collective.

I hope when our kids read this blog someday in years to come they will recognize then that it IS possible to make major changes in a life, family and marriage in order to "re-boot" and have a fresh start. Even when you are 36 and 37 years old, with three small children in tow. (Even when your health is on the line.)

This year we learned that with faith and dedication, anything is possible.

When all is said and done I believe we will look back on this as a pivotal year of transition that set the stage for our bright, beautiful future.

August 4, 2011 ~ Day 237 Just Plain Happy

I'm happy.

It isn't often that I start a post with those words - even though happiness has been a large part of our family life this year.

Typically at the end of the day when I finally have time to blog there's been some incident with our kids ~ some issue that we're working through ~ that has captured my attention.

I frequently chronicle the episodes of our own real-life family situation comedy; landing us somewhere between Family Ties and The Simpsons I guess.

Lately we've had some dramatic moments. It's been easy to get caught up in recording the things that aren't going well, or describing some of our hard-won victories.

Happiness is such an ephemeral feeling, hard to put into words. For me, it means a peaceful kind of contentment. Sort of like watching the sun go down over the ocean on a warm September afternoon, sitting next to your best friend, not talking. Just enjoying the moment. That's happy.

Right now I'm relaxing on our well worn green couch, the one we bought second-hand in perfect condition from an old friend/coworker of mine five years ago for the bargain price of $300.00. We got our money out of this thing years and years ago... and since then, it's just been a cosy, comfortable joy.

My husband is seated not far away at the dining room table, working hard on his laptop. It's 9:24pm but that sweet guy is still working - trying to wrap up some code that's been vexing his brain today. I love looking at his profile, such a handsome strong face. He focuses with razor sharp clarity upon the screen, sometimes smiling (when he solves a problem) and other times running his hands through his hair as he grapples with a new dilemma.

His dedication and passion for these esoteric languages inspires me, even though I cannot relate to them at all. It's a beautiful thing to watch someone you love fully engaged in a challenge that fulfills them at a deep level. My husband soaks up the complexities inherent in his work with intensity and vigor. It's super attractive.

Our three children are currently "falling asleep" (ha ha ha) in three different rooms nearby. They always end up in the same room that they share, but for the purpose of falling asleep they need to be separated. So, they've gone to bed.

What does this actually mean?

From each room we are listening to a different set of sounds. Our younger son is 'reading' Green Eggs and Ham in the doorway of one bedroom. "You may like them, you will see," he recites from memory. "You may like them in a tree!" He uses a slow, syncopated voice as though he is actually decoding the words, which of course are coming from his memory and imagination. Every so often, he giggles.

One bedroom over, his elder brother is trying to puzzle out real words. "What does J-o-h-n spell?" he calls out. "Ja - aw - huh - n"... Silence for a moment. Then, "Mom, what time is it?"

"It's 2:30 in the morning, honey."

"WHAT?" the six year old comes running out of his room. "It's 2:30?"

"Yeah, you're going to be SO tired in the morning when we wake you up in 3 hours," I smile.

"WHAT?"

He checks the clock in the main room and starts to laugh. "MOM! You tricked me!!! It's only 9:38pm!"

"Yeah, but that's really late honey," we both respond. "You need to get some sleep or you really WILL be that tired in the morning."

"Daddy!" calls out his little brother, joining the conversation.
"Daddy! You have to go to bed at Butt-Butt time."

(Have I mentioned that recently *everything* with our little guy talks about winds up linked to rear ends?)

My husband and I are trying not to laugh out loud, but it's hard. We're in a great mood, and his four year old comment strikes us both as pretty darn funny. We exchange a long glance, as our mouths open in silent laughter and we tacitly agree that our children crack us up.

The baby girl has at last succumbed to sleep, but not without jumping on her bed, tucking in her dolls, ripping up a book, telling herself a story, and crying briefly when we at last turned off her light and shut the door. She's now curled up with a bear in her big brother's bed, tousled curls flung across her pillow. She manages to be so fierce and innocent at the same time. Just peeking in on her as she sleeps makes me smile.

These are the moments - the moments that are least emotionally charged but most Real. These are the moments of our life. Traumas and tantrums alone do not make a family; major upheavals and challenges are not what keep us together.

No... what MAKE us, what unite us in a sort of magical and forever sort of way are the balmy summertime evenings when everything is just plain okay in our world. Good, even. We're contented. Our evening feels steady, comfortable, cheerful and warm.

These are the quiet, unobtrusive moments that bind us together - an invisible glue hard to quantify in words.

Tonight the five of us ~ a family ~ are connected by an invisible web which threads from room to room, from heart to heart.

This is love. This is happiness.