Monday, November 25, 2013
Day #15- Something Unexpected....
I write a lot about my family, especially my kids. But tonight I just want to admit to one thing- once they were in bed, I was so relieved and relaxed I fell asleep on their playmat on the floor.
The end :)
The end :)
Sunday, November 24, 2013
Days #12-14 Family Time
With the BFH {Big Friendly Husband} off work since Wednesday with a horribly nasty bug and the two squidlets at home, I must admit it's been really nice to have some family time. We are currently working opposite shifts, which means half-and-half parenting. It's not fun. I'm up early and in bed late. So is BFH. And by the time Friday comes, our grumpy pants are well and truly worn in for the week.
This weekend, we had planned a very special surprise for Mr 5. A trip to Santa's Magical Kingdom. He loved it and has stated he will return next week {although my bank account has denied his demands}. Christmas brings out the warm and fuzzies in me. The sparkles, the decorations, Christmas carols, Santa's crazy hair and beard, the arduous yet exciting task of wrapping presents. I've been very prepared with gifts this year, making and sticking to lists and budgets. It'll be sad when Santa has left the building!
Can't bloody wait. Christmas is that little bit more special this year. It's my daughter's first, and the last during which my son won't be a school boy. But that brings up many feelings which will, I'm sure, be published by me another day. The one other issue is that this will be the first Christmas without my Mum, and obviously yet another beautiful occasion without the Main Man {Dad}.
I'm determined to not let the heart-wrenching moments of this year put a dampener on my Christmas Cheer. The kids {as well as the BFH and myself} deserve a happy holiday. Part of the reason why I think I've been able to cope with the loss of my Mum is that I clearly can't forget that in the year that we lost her, I gave birth to my girl. Blessing is an understatement.
We visited Mum's empty house on Friday night. I was fine until BFH asked if I was fine. Then suddenly I realized I wasn't. Staring at her car sitting uselessly in the driveway, the bare garden and seeing the weeds waist height in the backyard was enough to break me.
Something about seeing my childhood home empty and lifeless takes my breath away. Makes me feel a bit speechless, like all of a sudden my childhood has been wiped as the man and woman who made it so wonderful just aren't there anymore. I, at times, I admit, can be quite materialistic. But I can explain. I place a lot of meaning on little things. Especially when they are tied to very important memories of times in my life.
I have my mum's hair brush and old glasses put away in a special box. I have my dad's old slippers. I have flyers from my first play. I have the ball from my first hockey goal tucked away. I have kept a lot of little trinkets and treasures from my children's first moments {and years in Mr 5's case}. My sister said something quite poignant to me this weekend, as we discussed how we were feeling. She said of Mum's things "It's just stuff now that she isn't here Lauren, you have the memories of her". I guess I keep hanging on to this stuff because I don't want to forget one thing about her. I'm not ready to let go and feel the full brunt of the pain because I understand how much it'll hurt. Plus, I can't afford to spend weeks not wanting to get out of bed, no matter how much I sometimes want to.
I want to tell my children the truth about her, not made-up stories because I've forgotten parts of her. So that's why I have kept a lot of little seemingly useless junky items along the way, triggers of memories that made me angry, happy, smile, cry or laugh.
For me, it's not about having lots of stuff or the best stuff, it's about what that stuff meant to me and continues to mean. With Mum, it's me finding it hard to let her go and wanting to hold onto her memory SO BADLY that I'm scared to throw anything out, especially if I know when she had it last. I know, I'm creepy but it's me and it's honest. I didn't want to throw out an old shopping list because it was her handwriting. And I loved her neat handwriting.
With Dad's, it's holding onto things because it's been so long since I saw him and it's only going to get worse. I miss him so much.
The compounding heartache of losing one parent then the other in tragic circumstances means a few things to me. It means I'm grieving and I won't stop. I forgive myself in the moments where it feels like my world is ending and I need to stop and have a cry. I'm kind to myself at times where I let people treat me like rubbish and all I want to do is kick them in the kid {violent response, I know}.
My sister and her family are not considered my immediate family, they are my family. We are one. The heartache means family, life, memories, special occasions and milestones and the way in which I see the world, treat others and expect to be treated myself has changed. I wouldn't be human if they hadn't.
I have noticed in the last few weeks that things can wait and I've let worries and stressors slide. I rest and don't feel guilty. I listen more and talk less. I dream more vividly and enjoy my sleep. I enjoy silence. I'm more frightened of the new feelings of grief that have arisen but I know I'm equipped to deal with them, or get help from someone who can really help, at the very least.
It's been a rocky year, not like any other. I keep this in mind, no matter where I am, who I'm with or what I'm doing- "Life: come at me".
Surely 2014 will be a great year for my family, we've really, truly earned it.
This weekend, we had planned a very special surprise for Mr 5. A trip to Santa's Magical Kingdom. He loved it and has stated he will return next week {although my bank account has denied his demands}. Christmas brings out the warm and fuzzies in me. The sparkles, the decorations, Christmas carols, Santa's crazy hair and beard, the arduous yet exciting task of wrapping presents. I've been very prepared with gifts this year, making and sticking to lists and budgets. It'll be sad when Santa has left the building!
Can't bloody wait. Christmas is that little bit more special this year. It's my daughter's first, and the last during which my son won't be a school boy. But that brings up many feelings which will, I'm sure, be published by me another day. The one other issue is that this will be the first Christmas without my Mum, and obviously yet another beautiful occasion without the Main Man {Dad}.
I'm determined to not let the heart-wrenching moments of this year put a dampener on my Christmas Cheer. The kids {as well as the BFH and myself} deserve a happy holiday. Part of the reason why I think I've been able to cope with the loss of my Mum is that I clearly can't forget that in the year that we lost her, I gave birth to my girl. Blessing is an understatement.
We visited Mum's empty house on Friday night. I was fine until BFH asked if I was fine. Then suddenly I realized I wasn't. Staring at her car sitting uselessly in the driveway, the bare garden and seeing the weeds waist height in the backyard was enough to break me.
Something about seeing my childhood home empty and lifeless takes my breath away. Makes me feel a bit speechless, like all of a sudden my childhood has been wiped as the man and woman who made it so wonderful just aren't there anymore. I, at times, I admit, can be quite materialistic. But I can explain. I place a lot of meaning on little things. Especially when they are tied to very important memories of times in my life.
I have my mum's hair brush and old glasses put away in a special box. I have my dad's old slippers. I have flyers from my first play. I have the ball from my first hockey goal tucked away. I have kept a lot of little trinkets and treasures from my children's first moments {and years in Mr 5's case}. My sister said something quite poignant to me this weekend, as we discussed how we were feeling. She said of Mum's things "It's just stuff now that she isn't here Lauren, you have the memories of her". I guess I keep hanging on to this stuff because I don't want to forget one thing about her. I'm not ready to let go and feel the full brunt of the pain because I understand how much it'll hurt. Plus, I can't afford to spend weeks not wanting to get out of bed, no matter how much I sometimes want to.
I want to tell my children the truth about her, not made-up stories because I've forgotten parts of her. So that's why I have kept a lot of little seemingly useless junky items along the way, triggers of memories that made me angry, happy, smile, cry or laugh.
For me, it's not about having lots of stuff or the best stuff, it's about what that stuff meant to me and continues to mean. With Mum, it's me finding it hard to let her go and wanting to hold onto her memory SO BADLY that I'm scared to throw anything out, especially if I know when she had it last. I know, I'm creepy but it's me and it's honest. I didn't want to throw out an old shopping list because it was her handwriting. And I loved her neat handwriting.
With Dad's, it's holding onto things because it's been so long since I saw him and it's only going to get worse. I miss him so much.
The compounding heartache of losing one parent then the other in tragic circumstances means a few things to me. It means I'm grieving and I won't stop. I forgive myself in the moments where it feels like my world is ending and I need to stop and have a cry. I'm kind to myself at times where I let people treat me like rubbish and all I want to do is kick them in the kid {violent response, I know}.
My sister and her family are not considered my immediate family, they are my family. We are one. The heartache means family, life, memories, special occasions and milestones and the way in which I see the world, treat others and expect to be treated myself has changed. I wouldn't be human if they hadn't.
I have noticed in the last few weeks that things can wait and I've let worries and stressors slide. I rest and don't feel guilty. I listen more and talk less. I dream more vividly and enjoy my sleep. I enjoy silence. I'm more frightened of the new feelings of grief that have arisen but I know I'm equipped to deal with them, or get help from someone who can really help, at the very least.
It's been a rocky year, not like any other. I keep this in mind, no matter where I am, who I'm with or what I'm doing- "Life: come at me".
Surely 2014 will be a great year for my family, we've really, truly earned it.
Saturday, November 23, 2013
Friday, November 22, 2013
Thursday, November 21, 2013
Day #11 November 21st- Colouring In Is Awesome! It Takes Me Back....
So tonight I've been colouring in, illustrating and writing down some ideas for my children's book. I come home from work every day looking forward to drawing.
I don't want to publish a book to say I published a book. I want to publish a book solely for my kids. I want them to have something they can hold onto long after I'm gone.
Memories, in particular visual {like instant video recall in your brain!} and auditory ones can turn fuzzy over time. I want to leave my children with something that they can touch and see. I believe in the preservation of memories and moments.
A lot of parents get caught up in taking pictures of their kids and of events they all attend. Birthdays, Christmas, that first lost tooth, school plays, sports days, holidays. I want to be 1000% present during these moments. BUT I want to remember every fine detail long after they have come and gone. So that is what I use some of my spare time for.
I keep a Project Life Journal, which I have dedicated to my children. Every day, if not every second day, I take an hour to wind down and think about what we've all done and what we've enjoyed. I write about the fun times and I write about when the day got a bit rough.
I keep scrapbooks and baby albums for both my children. I don't know what initially drew me to the idea of journalling and scrapbooking but I like the idea of combining art, craft, writing and keeping a diary. It is quite relaxing and it's nice to be able to look through our weeks together.
I don't want to focus on morbid thoughts because they are not a big part of my mind, but I think about what I want to leave with my children as I grow older.
I want my children to feel, no matter how old they are, that they are loved and cherished just as much as the day I first held them in my arms. I want my children to be independent and healthy and be able to look back on our lives together and feel proud and happy.
I want my children to be proud of me, I want them to know who I am and to understand the journey that has been my life. I want my kids to feel that warmth I feel when I remember my parents. My kids are so young right now, I just can't imagine them grown up {which is wonderful because I cherish every second they are so innocent, dependent and small!}
When people are gone, memories are all you have. So I want ours to be the greatest.
I've taken hundreds of pictures of my kids, well maybe a few thousand. Photos are a big part of my life. They take me back to the exact "cheese" moment. There is no greater feeling than being able to be a part of your children's growth and look back in times when you feel sad about how quickly time moves us on.
There is nothing to be sad about, I really just wish we could all stay together forever.
I want with my children what I felt I had with my Mum. If we come anywhere close to that, I have fulfilled my most desired dream.
I may not be a perfect Mum. In fact, sometimes I lack confidence, I get impatient, I lack energy to play all the time, and sometimes I really just want a little peace and quiet. But I try. And losing my Mum has given me more passion, motivation and strength in everything I do, especially parenting.
Being perfect would be boring and we'd have no goals to strive to achieve. So with here I am with all my quirks, enjoying every moment I'm breathing. I really am. When you break it down, that's exactly what I'm doing.
I've seen life come and go and I want to stay for as long as I can. I owe it to my children to improve my health, my mind and never ever forget that they are the first and last thoughts that enter my mind every day.
I don't ever want to leave this piece of Heaven I'm in.
L
XO
I don't want to publish a book to say I published a book. I want to publish a book solely for my kids. I want them to have something they can hold onto long after I'm gone.
Memories, in particular visual {like instant video recall in your brain!} and auditory ones can turn fuzzy over time. I want to leave my children with something that they can touch and see. I believe in the preservation of memories and moments.
A lot of parents get caught up in taking pictures of their kids and of events they all attend. Birthdays, Christmas, that first lost tooth, school plays, sports days, holidays. I want to be 1000% present during these moments. BUT I want to remember every fine detail long after they have come and gone. So that is what I use some of my spare time for.
I keep a Project Life Journal, which I have dedicated to my children. Every day, if not every second day, I take an hour to wind down and think about what we've all done and what we've enjoyed. I write about the fun times and I write about when the day got a bit rough.
I keep scrapbooks and baby albums for both my children. I don't know what initially drew me to the idea of journalling and scrapbooking but I like the idea of combining art, craft, writing and keeping a diary. It is quite relaxing and it's nice to be able to look through our weeks together.
I don't want to focus on morbid thoughts because they are not a big part of my mind, but I think about what I want to leave with my children as I grow older.
I want my children to feel, no matter how old they are, that they are loved and cherished just as much as the day I first held them in my arms. I want my children to be independent and healthy and be able to look back on our lives together and feel proud and happy.
I want my children to be proud of me, I want them to know who I am and to understand the journey that has been my life. I want my kids to feel that warmth I feel when I remember my parents. My kids are so young right now, I just can't imagine them grown up {which is wonderful because I cherish every second they are so innocent, dependent and small!}
When people are gone, memories are all you have. So I want ours to be the greatest.
I've taken hundreds of pictures of my kids, well maybe a few thousand. Photos are a big part of my life. They take me back to the exact "cheese" moment. There is no greater feeling than being able to be a part of your children's growth and look back in times when you feel sad about how quickly time moves us on.
There is nothing to be sad about, I really just wish we could all stay together forever.
I want with my children what I felt I had with my Mum. If we come anywhere close to that, I have fulfilled my most desired dream.
I may not be a perfect Mum. In fact, sometimes I lack confidence, I get impatient, I lack energy to play all the time, and sometimes I really just want a little peace and quiet. But I try. And losing my Mum has given me more passion, motivation and strength in everything I do, especially parenting.
Being perfect would be boring and we'd have no goals to strive to achieve. So with here I am with all my quirks, enjoying every moment I'm breathing. I really am. When you break it down, that's exactly what I'm doing.
I've seen life come and go and I want to stay for as long as I can. I owe it to my children to improve my health, my mind and never ever forget that they are the first and last thoughts that enter my mind every day.
I don't ever want to leave this piece of Heaven I'm in.
L
XO
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)