redirection

http://thereyouareb2three.wordpress.com

this life

This new life is all about not enough time in the day.  And never being able to be in all the places my kids need me to be in.  And not making dinner but buying fast food like every night.  And not bathing Hayden for 3 days in a row because I just can't fight her aversion to water.  And throwing away the daily paper still in the bag the newspaper dude delivered it in because I don't have time to watch any trashy tv, let alone read the f'ing newspaper.  And leaving my girls to get to school on their own, which I know they are fine with but still it bothers me.  And putting off taking Hayden to the doctor even though the crap pouring out of her nose just gets greener and greener each day, and, oh awesome, this morning it has moved up to her eyes.  And falling into bed by 8:13 because I can't stay up another second.

breathe

I have to keep telling myself that.  When things get crazy, it becomes a silent chant.  It gets me through the various panics that seem to temporarily immobilize the girls.  It moves me through the moments when it suddenly strikes me that this really is life now.  Funny thing is, it works. 

ready or not

Tomorrow marks my unofficial return to the full-time work world--A world from which I have been absent since May of 2006. Tomorrow will also mark the beginning of new roles for the girls...And while my eldest has definitely felt this burden since the Hay's birth and Mitchell's diagnosis, this will be the first time they are being asked to do so much.

anniversary

Twelve years ago today, Mitchell and I got married. We would have been together almost 14 years.

Miss you, Babe.

Sent from my iPhone

not a babysitter

Shortly after Taylor was born, I was finally getting out of the house to see a movie with a friend of mine. Mitchell was happy to push me out the door so he could finally have Taylor all to himself. He was on the phone with his mother, and I heard him say, "No, I'm not babysitting....How can I babysit my own daughter?!". He was pretty indignant about the whole suggestion. I recall thinking he was funny to be so upset, but he took the job of dad seriously. He did everything he could to let the girls know that he loved and supported them.

On this first Father's Day without Mitchell, I honor him by remembering all they ways he was a remarkable father.

moving forward

The girls and I recently returned from our first family vacation without Mitchell. The trip was a much anticipated one to Disneyland. Hayden's very first experience with the Happiest Place on Earth. For the most part it was a great trip. Hayden loved it, although the giant characters she really could have done without.

The last time we visited Disneyland was with Mitchell. There were many bittersweet moments both for myself and Taylor during our week long excursion. It made me sad to remember so vividly rides we'd enjoyed or places we liked to eat or even conversations we'd had on that last trip when the girls were small and easily impressed.

It was weirdly painful and satisfying to have made the trip and for it to have been a successful one.

getting back

I started dreaming again. Well...probably I never stopped, but I'm remembering them in the morning. I'm taking it as a sign.

me hulk

So I guess I really don't know the extent of my own strength...Showering this morning, I literally ripped my shower head off the pipe-y thing that sticks out of the wall. How did this amazing feat of strength occur, you wonder? No, I hadn't been dead lifting the children prior... This was mere moments after staggering out of bed and into the stall, bleary-eyed and slightly disoriented. I reached up to redirect the bountiful spray provided by my 2-in-1 rain/hand held, and suddenly, the entire unit snapped free of the pipe and was hurtling toward my face. I narrowly averted disaster with some slick ninja in the shower moves, and the offending device clattered to the floor.

Somewhat bewildered, I scrambled to turn off the gush that sprang from the broken spigot. I stood for a moment, covered in body wash and conditioner, pink, plastic razor hanging limply in my hand.

In my immediate future, a trip to the Home Depot and the shower head aisle.

birthday

The last day of March marked the day of Mitchell's birth. He would have been 43. The day came and went as most others. It is remarkable to me that it was so ordinary.

good now

Hard to believe the move is now in the past.  Good to be here now.  Sleeping much better.  Feeling more comfortable, almost renewed.  Excited again.

almost there

Only 14 days until we begin a new chapter. I am only too ready to leave behind the sharp and painful memories that reside here. Granted leaving this place won't eliminate those memories, but it will put some much needed distance between them and myself.

strange days

Valentine's Day brought some unexpected happenings for the very youngest of the Harris Girls. While playing around on the trampoline waiting for Valentine's dinner, there was what seemed to be a minor accident. Dylan brought in the Hay, wailing and snot flying. I sat her down and checked her out as mom's are wont to do. She seemed fine. We had dinner, and while she ate almost nothing (typical), she did her usual jamming of dinner into whatever she happens to be drinking (very typical).

Bedtime came early, but sleep did not last. That night was spent with Hayden crying out and/or sobbing in her sleep. By about 3 am, I am convinced there is something wrong. I barely get the big kids off to school and call the doctor as soon as they open. The appointment set, I spend the morning with a very lethargic 2 year old (atypical).

At the appointment, x rays revealed that Hayden's tibia and fibula had been cleanly broken distally. I was shocked to leave the appointment with nothing more than a referral for an appointment with an orthopedic surgeon for this afternoon. No wraps. No splints. Nothing. Just instructions, "Don't let the leg hang; it will cause more pain and injure the area further.". Perfect!

pieces

The material pieces of our lives are not us. They may be reminiscent of us or help tell others how we perceive ourselves, but they are not us. The letting go of these possessions does not mean we are discarding loved ones. Our loved ones live in our hearts and our minds and our actions. They are there behind our eyes waiting for us to reminisce with them and laugh with them and even cry a little too. But things like clothing and cars and yes, even houses, those are just things. Our loved ones travel with us, no matter where the rest of our lives take us.

floundering

Just over two months since Mitchell's passing. It's strange how time seems to drag and yet fly by all at the same time. I still can't let go of those last moments. They continue to haunt me, blind-siding me in quiet moments.

The world outside continues on. It seems they barely recall that just a short time ago he was here. Outsiders offer "help". Everyone seems to have advice, opinions about how best to proceed. People who think they know how we feel like to give me helpful hints. I try to avoid these good Samaritans, but they've got radar and hone in on my signal.

decisions

Can one think too far ahead? How much of your future is reasonable to contemplate? Three years? Five? How about 10; is that too much? Thinking about the choices that lay ahead only makes for more forks in our road.... It's reminiscint of that restaurant menu that has way too much to offer. You're not dead set on anything specific and in a way they all sound pretty good.

restart

That's where I am right now.  I'm on a restart of my life.  Of course, I'm still a mom to three great girls, that's not going to change...But all the rest of it, that's what I'm talking about.  I'm trying to figure out what's next for the four of us.  This doesn't feel like home anymore.