Dear Jack,
In less than two years I have held you tightly and cried because a select few individuals made the choice to harm people they didn't even know. I wept for the parents who would never hold their children again like I held you, I wept for the families who would never be whole and for the many lives forever altered because someone made an unforgivable choice.
Part of me was glad you are too young too ask why I was crying, or why grampy was over so early and we all watched the news instead of our usual Friday playtime. I was glad you didn't have to go to school, that neither your father or I had to go to work, because all I could do that day is keep kissing your head and holding your hand and watch the internet like a hawk for updates and acknowledgments that the people we loved were safe, and when they were still mourn for those who could not say the same.
The other part of me knew that we would have some other tragedy one day, and it would not be as simple as reading you your favorite book and turning off the TV. And I know we'll talk then, because I hope we can always talk about the things that scare you and make you sad just as the things that make you happy, but when you read about the things that happened here, now, I know there will be things I want to say.
Look beyond the men who sought to hurt and inspire fear. Look beyond them and see how the rest of humanity responds. See the people who want to help. The truth is my boyo that they are the majority, and they will prove to you why having faith in people is not a faith misplaced. They will go beyond the limits of common courtesy. Walls will drop and we cease to be anything other than fellow human beings and they will inspire you. Take that with you in the dark days, and the amount of light that we put back into the world, while it can never completely snuff the darkness, will overwhelm it.
In the days that follow, keep that light, that faith and love for the world, because wounds will be raw and all wounded creatures snap. People will say foolish things, they will look for someone or something to blame, and it is up to everyone to keep that amazing energy of hope and brotherhood. As long as we do that then those few, terrified and angry people who try to inflict themselves on the world can never succeed. We can prove the world better than they think it.
So my sweet boy, when dark days come again, and I am sad to say that they will as long as fear permeates the hearts of some, look for the helpers as Mr. Rogers says. Look for the good and don't let one speck of darkness turn your eyes and heart away from the light that is the world.
Be strong. Be kind. Be you.
Love mom.
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
Friday, April 12, 2013
20 Reasons is Only the Beginning
20 Reasons I Am Glad I Am A Mom
1. Kisses for no reason.
2. "Cheeeeeessse!"
3. That smile when I come home.
4. His heart against mine.
5. Tiny toes and fingers.
6. Showing me those tiny toes and fingers.
7. The way he kisses the cat.
8. Watching out the window for daddy.
9. When he takes my hand, just because he wants to.
10. His hair right after a bath.
11. The way he makes strangers smile.
12. The way he inspires strangers to be kind.
13. Trucks on my couch and in my boots.
14. Little orange fish watering cans.
15. When he crawls into my lap with a book.
15. Babybuns.
16. His laugh.
17. That cheeky grin.
18. When he hugs or tickles his friends.
19. How he pats his uncle every time he sees him hello.
20. Crazy baby.
Why? Because I snuggled my sweet, silly boy and tucked him in for the night then read another blog by a mom who lost her son today and my heart broke.
Because I read an article about a woman who regrets her kids, and said so in a forum that will come back to them someday.
Because no matter how sad I feel, how frustrated or helpless, I love my son with every bit of my heart.
He is magic in my life that did not exist before him, and I am lucky and grateful, every day, no matter what challenges may arise, to be his mother.
And I just needed to say so.
1. Kisses for no reason.
2. "Cheeeeeessse!"
3. That smile when I come home.
4. His heart against mine.
5. Tiny toes and fingers.
6. Showing me those tiny toes and fingers.
7. The way he kisses the cat.
8. Watching out the window for daddy.
9. When he takes my hand, just because he wants to.
10. His hair right after a bath.
11. The way he makes strangers smile.
12. The way he inspires strangers to be kind.
13. Trucks on my couch and in my boots.
14. Little orange fish watering cans.
15. When he crawls into my lap with a book.
15. Babybuns.
16. His laugh.
17. That cheeky grin.
18. When he hugs or tickles his friends.
19. How he pats his uncle every time he sees him hello.
20. Crazy baby.
Why? Because I snuggled my sweet, silly boy and tucked him in for the night then read another blog by a mom who lost her son today and my heart broke.
Because I read an article about a woman who regrets her kids, and said so in a forum that will come back to them someday.
Because no matter how sad I feel, how frustrated or helpless, I love my son with every bit of my heart.
He is magic in my life that did not exist before him, and I am lucky and grateful, every day, no matter what challenges may arise, to be his mother.
And I just needed to say so.
Wednesday, April 3, 2013
The Magic of Sunlight and Wee Beans
We belatedly welcome spring to New England as finally the snow has ceased and we are teased with the occasional 50 degree days that have many, including myself, staring longingly out at their neglected yards, trowel and confused tulips in hand.
With our first home my mind is filled with plans for our yard, our first property we can do whatever we'd like to, a blank canvas of dirt and plant matter. Luckily, I am armed with parents who make their livings being elbow deep in earth, and will not end up on a DIY disaster program saying "I just don't know what went wrong." I am excited to see what kind of art they will help us make on our half acre of homeland. See, my mom has this super power where she can look at a plant that looks half dead from winter hibernation and can see it in it's full glory in her mind. She literally paints with flowers when there are none to be seen. She paints in potential. Seriously how awesome is that? My dad likewise has a superhuman ability to deconstruct something down to it's parts and rebuild it. He's helping us construct a fence so my son doesn't gleefully throw himself into the 4ft oblivion that is the drop off at the back of our property. He had me pick a fence. Like, just a photo of any kind of fence we liked, and pulled it apart with his mind, reconstructed it, and wrote out a shopping list. They're magic I tell you, magic.
So I am terribly excited because I have their immense skill at hand for what is going to be our first true renovation of OUR home. My mind loves projects, and so I have had little time to give any residence to my depression, which has been a nice reprieve. Since my folks are bringing the skills to the table (to teach, mind you. Life skills man, life skills.) it's left my imagination to roam free. This is a dangerous thing for a geekmom like myself.
The result has been a fixation on a children's garden for my son. I have always had a dream of infusing wonder into my kid's lives in a fantastical way, and this garden is just the first in that quest. Butterfly bushes, fruit bearing plants, fairy homes, wind chimes, bird feeders and even cheeky gnomes are but part of my grand design. But then Pintrest got involved and that broad is bad influence.
So the center piece of my child's garden is going to be : a hobbit hole. Geeky, playful, beautiful. And the best part? Totally doable. We have a hill that has been foiling my planning in our yard, but would be perfect for tucking the perfect playhouse into. Apparently all we need is a good sized dog house and a facade with a round front door. Landscape around and atop it and viola- Hobbit Hole. There must be a garden, a gate and a wee little mailbox as well. I. Cannot.Wait. I will have to chase my adult friends out of it on a regular basis. One may try and live there.
I am also plotting out my veggie garden, my second summer's worth. I have found an immense peace in growing things. It's a similar joy to watching m son, in knowing you are nurturing something other than yourself, and when they thrive is like lighting a fire in your own well being. I've been teaching my boyo about growing things, and he happily helped sow seeds in started pots an exuberantly watered. The Easter Bunny brought him gardening tools and a gnome for his garden.
So now two of us watch wide eyed as green pokes temptingly from our yard, and await when that winter's chill finally vanishes from the air and the dirt and joy can fly.
With our first home my mind is filled with plans for our yard, our first property we can do whatever we'd like to, a blank canvas of dirt and plant matter. Luckily, I am armed with parents who make their livings being elbow deep in earth, and will not end up on a DIY disaster program saying "I just don't know what went wrong." I am excited to see what kind of art they will help us make on our half acre of homeland. See, my mom has this super power where she can look at a plant that looks half dead from winter hibernation and can see it in it's full glory in her mind. She literally paints with flowers when there are none to be seen. She paints in potential. Seriously how awesome is that? My dad likewise has a superhuman ability to deconstruct something down to it's parts and rebuild it. He's helping us construct a fence so my son doesn't gleefully throw himself into the 4ft oblivion that is the drop off at the back of our property. He had me pick a fence. Like, just a photo of any kind of fence we liked, and pulled it apart with his mind, reconstructed it, and wrote out a shopping list. They're magic I tell you, magic.
So I am terribly excited because I have their immense skill at hand for what is going to be our first true renovation of OUR home. My mind loves projects, and so I have had little time to give any residence to my depression, which has been a nice reprieve. Since my folks are bringing the skills to the table (to teach, mind you. Life skills man, life skills.) it's left my imagination to roam free. This is a dangerous thing for a geekmom like myself.
The result has been a fixation on a children's garden for my son. I have always had a dream of infusing wonder into my kid's lives in a fantastical way, and this garden is just the first in that quest. Butterfly bushes, fruit bearing plants, fairy homes, wind chimes, bird feeders and even cheeky gnomes are but part of my grand design. But then Pintrest got involved and that broad is bad influence.
So the center piece of my child's garden is going to be : a hobbit hole. Geeky, playful, beautiful. And the best part? Totally doable. We have a hill that has been foiling my planning in our yard, but would be perfect for tucking the perfect playhouse into. Apparently all we need is a good sized dog house and a facade with a round front door. Landscape around and atop it and viola- Hobbit Hole. There must be a garden, a gate and a wee little mailbox as well. I. Cannot.Wait. I will have to chase my adult friends out of it on a regular basis. One may try and live there.
I am also plotting out my veggie garden, my second summer's worth. I have found an immense peace in growing things. It's a similar joy to watching m son, in knowing you are nurturing something other than yourself, and when they thrive is like lighting a fire in your own well being. I've been teaching my boyo about growing things, and he happily helped sow seeds in started pots an exuberantly watered. The Easter Bunny brought him gardening tools and a gnome for his garden.
So now two of us watch wide eyed as green pokes temptingly from our yard, and await when that winter's chill finally vanishes from the air and the dirt and joy can fly.
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