Wednesday, July 12, 2017

This is Anxiety

Tonight has been pure hell.  I know people don't understand.  And plenty of people think I've created a monster, or that the way I choose to handle things only exacerbates the situation, or worse yet, that I am being manipulated and controlled by some sort of 8-year-old sociopath.  I assure you, however, I am trying my damnedest to navigate this road as gracefully and sensitively as possible.

For those wondering what I'm talking about, my 8-year-old, Alex, has developed a nasty "case" of anxiety.  It started in the last 6 months or so and focuses itself primarily on weather but more generally on safety (feeling safe, being healthy, etc.).  Leaving the house suddenly makes him feel unsafe and uneasy, especially if there is any chance of wind, precipitation, or heck, a change in barometric pressure of any kind (I exaggerated there a smidge.)   I have seen this anxiousness surface in situations where people are sick or hurt (e.g. Daddy had surgery for a hernia a few weeks ago and Alex was uber concerned that Dad "was ok" and would "be ok" indefinitely).  Of course this increased nervousness also increases his need to be attached to me in true Velcro Boy fashion.  But the most frustrating part is that it manifests in the most unexpected places and times (e.g. on board a naval battleship for a Scout overnight that we've done twice before wherein Alex suddenly expressed a serious fear of small places and wasn't at ease unless he had a direct and well-memorized escape plan at all times).
In the car traveling on a rainy day.
Of course, I don't have all of the answers.  Heck, I don't think I have any of them, really.  I will fully admit I'm winging it every day.  But I am trying to help him the best way(s) I know how.  Afterall, I am the one living this nightmare along side him.  I'm the one who sees the pain in my precious 8-year-old's eyes when he insists, er, demands we stay home or GO home (immediately!).  The point is, I know my kid and I can tell the difference between a fake "I want something" cry and and a real truly scared gut-wrenching sob.  And I know people don't agree.  But I'd like to think that as his mother I can see through the crap and tell the real deal.  I am probably wrong.  But if I'm being totally honest, I would rather err on the side of caution and not risk damaging his emotional well being simply because I didn't "believe him".

I walk a very thin line.  Every. Single. Day.  I weigh the signs, the reactions, the underlying messages and the unspoken emotions.  I try to always think about what the true reason for his outbursts of anger and jerkiness (which seem to be his favorite way to express his anxiety) might be.  Never to assume his behavior is what it outwardly appears to be (for example, he's not REALLY mad at his brother for eating the last banana when the sky just darkened up and he may just be worried about the change in weather).  His behaviors are usually out of left field, or don't make sense in the context of the situation.    I know I'm not a professional and I have come to the realization that he needs one.  I'm working on that.

I just wish other people could see my point of view and try to understand my position.  I'm his Mom.  I'm supposed to fix this.  I'm supposed to make him feel safe and ease his fears.  But with this ugly monster called Anxiety I simply can not seem to do that.  At least not alone.





Tuesday, June 7, 2016

#thisis40

As much as I wish I could change it, I will turn 40 in ten days.  Ten Days until I turn the big 4-0.  I'm trying to be positive and embrace the number.  Really, I am.  I am doing my best to channel my BFF and focus on my many blessings.  I attempt every day to remember accomplishments made over the past 14,600 days.

I'm struggling though.  2016 has been the year of all my friends turning 40.  They all seem to be embracing it.  So many of my friends have been posting photos taken on fabulous trips to exotic places to commemorate their 40th.  They've taken on big goals, done amazing things, accomplished fascinating dreams, or simply just embraced the fabulous people they are.  All under the hashtag, "thisis40".  It has me really trying to figure out, what is 40 for ME?  I'm not planning any trips anywhere amazing.  I haven't accomplished any grand dream or even made a huge impact on the world around me.  I'm not even sure what I want to be when I grow up yet.

When I was in my 20s people older than me would tell me when I got to be in my 30s and 40s I'd care less what people think, I'd find a self confidence I was then lacking.  Forty sounded so liberating.  I always figured by my thirties and forties I would finally know who I am, what I was supposed to do in this world and where I belonged.  I am so not there.

Forty has me physically out of shape, emotionally exhausted and seemingly messing up everything I touch.  My house is a mess, my brain is just as cluttered, and I never quite have it all together.  This isn't the grace and style I was hoping to have by now.  

Will I ever get there?  I guess I have 10 days to figure that out.  Wish me luck.    

Monday, March 21, 2016

Double Digits

In the blink of an eye my Bug has turned 10.  While I can't imagine my life without him in it, it seems impossible to think that he has been in my world for a whole decade!


Three years ago, when he was turning seven, I wrote the following:

"Suddenly, you appear before me, this boy who can make his own lunches and get himself ready for school.  You have friends and a social schedule and plans that aren't always mine.  You have homework and chores and responsibilities that you take care of with some gentle reminding.  You're mature, and polite, and kind.  Temper tantrums have begun to give way and therefore have made time for more philosophical conversations and fun play.  As if out of nowhere, you know things - smart things - that I didn't teach you.  You read and learn and listen and soak in the world around you - the good, the bad, and the ugly.  You worry more.  You parent a lot.  You fight like heck for the little person but forget to stand up for the person you should be protecting the most (you!)."

It hasn't changed at all.  Nate is still my independent, mature, and responsible "old man".  He follows the rules and makes sure everyone else does, too.  He's helpful and kind.  

He is smart and has brilliant ideas and actual opinions about important stuff.  At nine he thinks more about other people and their feelings than most adults I know.  He's raised money for the ASPCA, studies about World War II like it's his job, and even started a business, Inventors, Inc.  He's written bylaws for his business, and has a "staff" of 14 of his classmates.  He even asked his school principal if he could set up a table for his business at the PTSA's Family Fun Night next month.  

Nate reads everything he can get his hands on.  When I'm having a bad day or am beyond frustrated with his little brother's behavior, he is the first to offer a hug, a kiss or will make me a cup of tea just to ease the tension.  His imagination is still stellar and he'll disappear into scenes in his mind.  It's fascinating.  



As a 4th-grader he's still singing in chorus, taken up playing the trumpet, gotten braces, and still lives and breathes fire fighting. He's gotten really good at cooking.  Thanks to loving friends and family, he has a few cookbooks from which he'll pick a recipe and go to town.  He's made some delicious meals and desserts!    



















He is definitely a one of a kind kid.  I don't know how I got so lucky to be his Mom...but I cherish every moment!


Friday, March 11, 2016

Therapy

I have had an overwhelming need to write lately.  Not about anything profound or even all that important...just to "talk" in an effort to purge the words, emotions, and thoughts in my head.  I miss it.  I miss sharing our stories and photos and adventures.  It's not that we haven't had anything to share...it's quite the opposite, actually.  We've been so busy I haven't had the TIME to share.

And that makes me sad.  As I've mentioned before, so many moments have fallen through the cracks in my memory.  So many stories have gone untold and will undoubtedly be forgotten until such time in the distant future when some random event sparks a flicker of remembrance.  Even then the memory will be fleeting, as many of my memories are these days.

As I sit here in my new pink camo recliner the wood stove is cranking at about 80 degrees.  My wine, which was once chilled, is now lukewarm and my cat is insisting on garnering all of my attention.

Nate will be turning 10 (!) in less than 2 weeks and Dave and I are trying to plan a special trip to commemorate this big birthday (double digits!).  I figured at 10 he's over the whole "party" thing (or at least I am!).  So instead of spending the money to have a magician come entertain 20 of his "closest" friends, we're looking to provide an adventure and build some lifelong memories.  In true Nate fashion, we're going to bring him to NYC to tour the 9/11 memorial and maybe visit FDNY.  It'll be perfect for our little Fire Bug.  I cant' wait!  I hope he doesn't miss out too much on the chance to celebrate with his friends, but I want to make it special in a new way this year.








Wednesday, April 1, 2015

A "Lucky" New Direction

A little over a week ago I got news that I never saw coming.  The kind of news that sucks the wind out of your sails and sends you reeling.  My job, the position I have loyally held for nearly 9 years, is being eliminated.  HR did the best they could to reassure me - they reminded me that I still have my job until June; that they will do the best they can to help me in any way I see fit; they assured me (rather emptily) that everyone who "touched this decision in any way feels horrible about it".  At the time, with tears streaming down my face, as I struggled just to suck air, not to mention try (rather unsuccessfully) to make eye contact, all I really heard was "blah, blah, no job, blah, blah, no money, blah, blah, no purpose".

I took a day to feel sorry for myself.  I cried.  I got angry.  I made immature and bitter remarks.  I had a pity party, felt like a loser, questioned my self worth.

Then I picked myself up, brushed myself off and started making lists.  I made "plans".  I did research.  I dusted off my resume and I started applying for jobs.     

Don't get me wrong.  I still feel like a loser,  I worry every second about what will happen or what I'm going to do...but I can't let this get me down (for long).  My husband needs me to be positive.  My kids need to know that nothing is wrong and that even if Mommy is talking about new jobs for whatever reason, that they don't have anything to worry about and their world will not change in any noticeably drastic ways.  I just can't allow myself to have to say "No, Nate...you can't play football this year because Mommy lost her job and we can't afford it",  or "I know all the other kids are going to the roller skating party but it's expensive so you can't join them".  That, to me, would be the ultimate failure...letting my boys down.  So I have to do whatever I can to make sure those words never have to be uttered. 

The good news is, I am pretty "marketable" as far as having a wide variety of "skills" that should afford me the opportunity to land SOME job, doing something, somewhere.  Sure, I'd love to take this opportunity to find something I love...to really figure out what I'm good at and do what makes me happy.  But that is (and really should be, I suppose) trumped by the necessity simply to ensure that I continue to have a paycheck in 10 short weeks when my job ends.

So, if you are so inclined, prayers are welcome.  If you know of any openings, please share.  Otherwise, just wish me luck.  I'm going to need it.  

Sunday, March 1, 2015

The revolving door of parenthood.

You know the scene...you're going through a revolving door at your local restaurant, shopping plaza or hotel lobby.  You hustle your littles into the all-too-tight space ahead of you and then squeeze in behind them, go a half turn through the door and then lead them out safely on the other side.   It's our job.  That's what we as Moms, Dads, PARENTS, do. 

The other day my boys, ages 6 and 8, and I were traveling through one of these doors when they rushed in ahead of me.  They filed into the section before me and I followed, one compartment behind.  Well, I got out on the other side and they did not...they kept going.  And going.  And going.  They were having the time of their lives just spinning around.  Of course I ushered them back through as soon as their fun became distruptive to others trying to get in, but until then, they carried on without me.  This has become a metaphor for my life with these boys lately. 

I understand that's how it works.  We guide them and steer them - Teach them, enourage them, support them.  Then they get independent and disappear into the revolving door only to come out on the other side unassisted.  With me standing on the outside watching them through the glass but unable to reach them.  I'm just not sure I am fully prepared for this new back seat "supervisory" role that I've inevitably been assigned. 

I love that my boys are growing up, don't get me wrong.  Besides, Nate has always been an old soul anyway...light years ahead of his age in maturity and self reliance.  I (half) joke all the time that Nate has never really needed me.  As a baby, he would crawl to his bedroom door when he was tired and sit outside it until I put him to bed. 

At swimming over the weekend I was chatting with a mom-friend of mine who is still very much in the throes of all things baby and toddler.  As she stepped out of the water with her infant in one hand and her toddler on her heels, she noted that I had been relieved of my "going in the water duties" now that the boys were older and could swim on their own.  I agreed, pointing out it was just one of many new breaks I'd finally earned as a result of their growing up.  I smile on the outside.  But inside I cried a little.

Sure, it's great to send them outside (with very little assistance needed beyond "Mom, where's my hat?" and "Help!  I can't get my boots on over my thick snowpants with my gloves already firmly installed on my hands" - ok, so they don't actually talk like that but you get the point...) but I never quite know where I stand.  When my needed assistance will be replaced with their new found confidence and skill.  Who can guess when my advice will be put out of business with wisdom of their own.

I don't know that I'll ever get used to this ever-changing "normal".  Just when I think I have it down, something changes. I will always beam with pride as new achievements are realized and skills are learned, of course.  But inside, I also realize that the end of my parenting job is one step closer.  That before I know it I may read my last goodnight story or hear my last "MOM!" holler for assistance in the bathroom.  And that makes me sad.

Wednesday, February 25, 2015

Cuckoo

Ugh.  I'm doing it again...I have so many thoughts jumping around in my head...there are so many things happening.  Yet I sit down, start a post to share my thoughts or feelings and then I get stuck.  My words suddenly make no sense...my initial concept just isn't being communicated.  It's so frustrating. 

I need this venue.  It helps clear my head, organize my thoughts, and reinforces my sanity.  Yet I can't seem to effectively write a coherent sentence.  I think it's a vicious cycle.  Too many thoughts are overwhelming so when I sit down for my "therapy" everything sort of falls out in crazy and chaotic ways. 

Yet I have to keep trying.  It's important.  I don't want to let another year go by without sharing anything.  I'll go crazy. 

Tuesday, February 3, 2015

A lesson learned...through his eyes

My 6-year-old keeps a photo of me in a frame on his shelf above his bed.  It's a ceramic frame he and his friends painted, decorated, and put their names on for his 5th birthday party at one of those paint-your-own-pottery places.  The photo of me is from 1994, my senior year of high school.

Tonight at bedtime, we were doing our nightly routine of "Day Talk" (where we tell each other, hour-by-hour, minute-by-minute, about our days) and Alex said something about how he loves that photo.  I asked him if he even knew who it was and he said, without hesitation, "It's you, Mommy".

Now, I look at that photo and I don't see me.  I see a 17-year-old version of who I used to be.  I see a young, thin, pretty girl, with the whole world in front of her.  She had adventures to go on, wild animals to tame, and dreams to conquer.  A far cry from the frumpy, old, haggard version of me before him.

But here was my sweet, innocent, 6-year-old saying, without skipping a beat, "It's you, Mommy!"

I jokingly responded, "How do you know that's me?!?"

"Because I see your same eyes."

"The same smile"

"The same hair"

"The same teeth"

"The same..."

He looked at this picture of me from 20+ years ago and he saw me just as he sees me now.  He didn't see the absence of wrinkles then vs. today's dull, lack luster skin.  Instead he looks past my greying hair and the no-longer-straight and certainly no-longer sparkling white teeth I once sported in my youth.  It didn't even phase him that the girl in that picture is easily 100 lbs lighter.  That she saw hope and promise in a world she has since become skeptical of.  He simply saw ME.  He saw his Mom.  He sees the same person NOW that I was back then.  And in that moment...so did I.  Now to practice holding on to that...

Thursday, January 15, 2015

Catch Up

Seeing as I only posted once (ONCE!) in all of 2014 (with the excption of my "getting back on the horse" post from the other day), there is so much to catch up on!! I'm realistic that there is no way I'll ever cover evrything though so consider this a highlights reel. :) In January we brought home a kitten, we promptly named him Kirby...and then he spent the next week sleeping in husband's firefighter bunkers (pants) so the boys renamed him "Bunkers" and it stuck. Bunkers is a big cat now, but he's so sweet and we all love him so much. He's a great "mouser", loves to be outside stalking things (he's even gotten scrappy with a fox), and is a HUGE cuddler (especially with me...at 3 AM) :)

Alex with Bunkers

A week or so later we got a new puppy, Rosie (named by Nate after Rose from the Titanic movie he was then obsessed with). She was so beautiful, sweet and added a whole new dynamic to our crazy household. Truth be told, she was a bit much for us though. We had definitely bitten off more than we could chew. Six months or so later, after much dissention, many conversations and a whole ton of tears, Rosie went to live with a friend of a friend who had the time and love Rosie so much needed and deserved. 
Rosie

We've had our share of fun scouting adventures - zoo sleepovers, an overnight (with Uncle Noah!) on a battleship, a fun night sleeping at the Niagara Aquarium, Pinewood Derby, Rocket launch, and the highly anticipated "ceremony" making Alex an official Tiger Cub (after 2 years of tagging along with his big brother, it was very exciting for him to receive his very own cub scout shirt!).


July marked our bi-annual summer camping trip to the 1000 Islands. This year we traveled with some fire department friends and their granddaughter who was visiting from California. The boys loved having a new friend to play with for the week and it was a great time (that could be a post all its own!).

Nate is in the 3rd grade and is such a sweet, responsible, RELIABLE, 8-year-old. He truly is my grumbly old man and definitely my rock. He's so helpful and independent. He's doing beyond fabulous in school! His biggest issue is that he worries way too much and is way too hard on himself. He's a bit of a perfectionist at times. This year Nate has joined intramurals and chorus, both of which allow him the distinct privilege (?) of being able to ride the early run bus twice a week. We were able to attend his first chorus concert in December and I am so proud to watch him. He loves to sing!

Alex is in 1st grade and is doing very well. His teacher is great and has figured out a way to keep him in check while still allowing him the opportunity to "be a crazy little boy". He is definitely my little character. He's always funning, being goofy, making faces, and never quite takes much of anything seriously. Even when he's in trouble he is trying to crack a smile. It's part charming and part evil.

Earlier in 2014 we found out that Alex has a moderate high frequency hearing loss in his left ear which essentially means nothing except to say he will never respond well to a dog whistle - ha! Seriously though, after seeing many audiologists, an olaryngologist and an ENT specialist, all have concluded that this will not cause him any long term detriment. It has obviously not impacted his learning or his speech in any way so now we monitor it every 6 months to make sure the loss isn't progressive and move on.

Both boys are keeping very busy with their activities (Gymnastics, soccer, baseball, scouts, swimming for Alex and Baseball, archery, BB gun, scouts, and swimming for Nate).


I am (still) Treasurer for the fire department and Daddy is a Captain so we spend a lot of time up at the fire hall for monthly meetings, training, raffles, events, fund drive, and general paperwork. The boys, of course, don't mind as the fire hall is their second home :) Nate especially loves it...he'll bring his gear with him to the hall, put it with Daddy's and wait for "the call". He even has a number (he calls himself Hulberton 3) and department friends have dubbed our house "Hulberton Station 2".

The biggest event for us in 2014 was our much anticipated trip to DISNEY!!! We had talked about it for years so the reality was long awaited! The details and photos of our trip I'd like to save for another post but it was so much fun!

So, in an effort to actually post this before 2015 has come and gone, I will consider this as thorough an update as I can for now...moving forward from here :) Can't wait to share more in the new year!

Sunday, December 28, 2014

Refocus

Hey, remember me?  It is a bit of an understatement to say that I have neglected this blog significantly over the last year or so...not on purpose or with any statement to be made by doing so.  Life just sort of....took over.  It does that.  

But it makes me sad all that I've missed out on capturing and documenting for posterity by making this journal of my life less of a priority.  So, as we approach 2015, I'd like to share my renewed commitment to sharing and telling the stories of my life.  I won't stress over it.  I won't worry if I don't have the best story to tell or the perfect photo to share for the topic (that's not the real point, anyway)..,I will fret less that my story may not be "worth sharing" for it's ALL worth REMEMBERING.  And that is the point.  


Friday, March 21, 2014

Two, Four, Six, EIGHT...who do we appreciate?!?!?! NATE!

I know people say it all the time, and I, myself, bemoan the passage of time all too often, but seriously...WHERE HAS THE TIME GONE?!?!  Today, my first born...the little man that made me a MOM, is 8 years old (!).  I can't help but still think of him as that strong-willed, independent little 2-year-old, or that pig-headed, determined little 3-year-old, or that smart, ingenious, and imaginative, 4,5, or 6-year-old.  Even looking back on him last year at this time, he was a totally different Bug.  His toothless grin has been replaced by adult teeth and a taller, more mature little MAN face. 

Suddenly, he is responsible, reliable, capable, and far too old to be caught dead getting kisses from his Mama.  His favorite response to "I love you", "I missed you", or "Have a great day!" is..."Ok.".  Doing anything with his baby brother in tow is suddenly "embarrassing".  And he rebels against any and everything that might portray him to be a "baby" of any kind (going to bed before 8 PM, having to sit with his brother, holding my hand anywhere outside the house, etc.).

Nate is such an old man, too.  He's curmudgeon-y, cranky, and loves to grumble.  He'll be the first one to curse Mother Nature if it's too cold or snows too much.  He even got mad at the school administrators once for "making young children stand out in the cold to wait for the bus".  He loves to parent everyone (especially the dogs and his brother!).  And rules are his best friends....stray from them at all and he's thrown for a loop and doesn't quite know how to cope.  He tends to be a bit of a perfectionist and the slightest hurdle or bump in the road sends his self esteem into a tailspin.  At eight, we're learning a lot about being more positive, handling stress with more grace, and utilizing some coping skills that he forgets all too quickly when things don't go his way.

I look back on pictures of Nate from years ago and can't help but feel a pang of sadness at how quickly he's growing up.  I miss that blanket sniffing, crazy ensemble wearing, free spirit!  But I am also ridiculously proud of the sweet, sensitive, smart, and responsible young man he is becoming. 





Now, do me a favor, Nate....Slow DOWN!  
Happy birthday, Bug-a-boo!

Friday, October 4, 2013

Go, Fight, WIN!

On July 19th, 2013 one of my oldest and dearest friends, Jes, got a call from her doctor and heard three little words no one ever wants or expects to hear..."You've got cancer."

At 37 years old, she now bravely travels along a road many of us dread.  Suddenly, words like "chemo", "radiation", "malignant", "biopsy", "Stage 2" and "invasive ductal carcinoma" are everyday lingo.  She's had her hand forced to begin talking to her young children about very difficult things...explaining that Mommy is sick and having to come to terms with the reality that (at least temporarily) she won't be able to be as strong for THEM as they will have to be for HER.

Despite this disease that weakens the body, Jes is one of the strongest women I know.  Chemo might take away her energy, and challenge her thoughts, but she does not let it steal what makes her so wonderful - HER SPIRIT.  She has dealt with this "new normal" so well...with courage, grace, and unbelievable RESILIENCY.  I know she struggles at times to remain upbeat and positive, but she is amazing and is a true fighter!!  She has taken this diagnosis and turned it around.  Through her blog, she shares her story to help and encourage others in her situation and infuses SO many with her light and positivity.
So fitting - Jes's husband, Gary, is chief of their fire department.
As a Firefighter Wife myself, I, too, will FIGHT!!

Unfortunately she lives 40 miles away so swinging over every day to check in (like I'd prefer) isn't realistic.  But I do want to help in any/every way I can...I know she would do the same for me.

SO, on October 20th, I (and my family) will be walking for Team Jes in our local Making Strides Against Breast Cancer walk to raise money for research to end this horrible disease.  I will NOT let cancer disrupt my family anymore (my Aunt fought - and WON! - this battle very recently) and/or threaten my friends!

If you are moved to support me in any way, great or small, please click this link to sponsor me/Team Jes and help raise money to fight back!  Any donation will help...OR consider joining Team Jes and walk with us!!  

Tuesday, September 10, 2013

Summer Rec

I know we are in the throes of the school year already, but I feel like there's SO much of the summer I had wanted to capture here for posterity and yet I haven't.


So, please excuse me while I go back in time a couple months to share with you this snapshot in time.  :)

As I've shared before, Nate started Tee Ball when he was 5 (summer before he started Kindergarten).  He played again last summer (before 1st grade) and finally this year moved up to what is called (in these parts) "Coach Pitch" baseball.  It was quite the adjustment for him.  First of all, the people on his team take baseball very seriously.  And some of these kids have been living and breathing baseball since they were born.  So to say that Nate was a little behind the curve is a bit of an understatement.  But what he lacked in skill he definitely made up for in heart and passion.  What really hurt his game was that any practice he was getting at home was limited and, well, let's just say that Mommy pitching (at 4'10" tall) or Daddy pitching underhand is NOT the same as the 6' coach pitching overhand.  So there was some learning to do there.










Good news is, he got a LOT of individual practice with one of his two coaches or other parent helpers. The other thing I really liked was the variety of positions he got to experience.  They had him on 1st, outfield, and he even got to be catcher a few times.  It really was good for him to get a feel for the different positions and the tasks each position is responsible for.  I really think he'll continue to grow.







This year Alex got to join the Summer Rec ranks and play Tee Ball like his big brother.  I also signed him up for soccer because I knew he'd be good at it and I'm glad I did.  I really think he preferred soccer (it moved more than tee ball does).  But we'll give him another year in both to figure it out.  It was an adjustment for Nate who's never had to go and sit and watch at a game for his brother (we had a few words about that the first few practices because Alex did it for Nate's tee ball for two years, it was Nate's turn to learn the spectator role).  It all worked out in the end thanks to a nearby playground and friends of his at practices who he could go off and play with on empty fields.






We had a rough go of it for tee ball and soccer this year.  For the first 3 weeks or so, we kept getting rained out or cancelled for soggy fields.  But once the season finally kicked off (i.e. the weather cooperated), we had fun.







I really liked the way they coordinated the tee ball teams this year.  Instead of playing a long boring game that 4 & 5 year olds couldn't focus more than 5 minutes on, they rotated smaller groups of the kids through "stations" that worked on them with batting, fielding, and catching.  Then for the last part of practice they'd play a "game".  I really think it worked great and taught Alex a LOT more in one year than Nate learned on his teams for two years.  I hope we have these coaches again next year!!






 So, until next year....

Tuesday, September 3, 2013

A Letter to Alexander…as you start Kindergarten.



My dear, sweet Boo Boo (Alex),


I can't believe it, but today you woke up a Kindergartner.  How did that happen so quickly?!?  After all, you're still my BABY!  You'll always be my baby, even if you are stepping on the bus tomorrow to attend your first full day of school.  



As you take this big step into the world, I hope you know that I love you more than anything!  I have so much I want for you.  So many things I worry about for you.  



My sweet boy, I want you to dream big and for all of your dreams to come true.  I want you to remain innocent forever - to never lose your individual spunk and witty sense of humor.  I want you to keep your wide-eyed sense of wonder, learn everything you can, and ALWAYS use your head and make smart choices.  Be yourself -  for you are a wonderful, special, and fabulous little boy, just as you are.  Stay safe.  Always choose things that make you happy.  Be a good friend.  Stick up for the "little guy".  Give more than you take.  Be kind.  Never ever lose that smile!  Think before you speak.  Hold open the door for someone behind you.  Listen more than you talk.  Ask questions.  Pay it forward as often as you can.  

As you travel down this educational route for the next 12 years (or more!), I will be here, always.  I've got your back.  You can talk to me about anything.  Nothing is too small, too silly, too weird, or too uncomfortable.  I am your Mama.  I will always be here, no matter what.  Never forget that.

Now, take your cute butt out into the world and show everyone what a wonderful force you are.  Keep your attitude in check but use your wit wisely.  Keep your anger under control and always remember to breathe.  Stick with your brother and remember how much we love you!!


Big, big, big, big, big, big HUGS!

Mama