Through the Stillness

When I see someone struggling, my heart swells with sympathy. I am mostly socially awkward and don’t know what to say face to face. I guess sometimes I also feel it isn’t my place to bring up someone else’s issues. So I will express my feelings here. This goes out to more than one person…

It pains me to see you struggling, hurting, and tired both physically and mentally. Know that when I see you like this, I am there for you although I may not know what to say. I do not claim to be or want to come off as a wiseacre, but there is a solution––an easy one. You place the weight of life and all the problems life gives on your shoulders. Just stop. Stop right now. Take a deep breath and then pray. Pray for clarity, pray for strength and pray to see all the blessings that are right in front of you. Pray for the faith of a child. To see life’s awesome wonders. To be excited for each and every day that you and your loved ones are alive and breathing. To be reminded of what really matters. To find your very own passion(s) and to go forth and walk your own path (sounds lame but I don’t care). To know that you are enough and that you are loved. To allow others in and know that you can’t do it on your own.

I hope this helps. I hope you know I care about you and will always be there. When life gets the best of me, I hope you remind me of the easy solution.

I confronted my fear. I looked the treadmill in the eye and stepped up. (Deep breath) I pressed the go button and….nothing. I pressed another button and….nothing. Perplexed. I looked to the guy to the right of me and he looked away. Well thanks nice guy. (Really big deep breath) Ding ding ding the emergency stop was pulled out. Don’t laugh, I was really nervous. I pushed it back in and (boom) started walking on the treadmill. It took fifteen minutes of tedious walking to pull out the courage to run. But I did it. I ran on the treadmill and I am still standing, still alive to tell the story.

Next goal is to run the indoor track…

Oliver has been waking up around 5:30-6:00ish. Out of desperation, we lay him in bed with us in hopes that we can gain more rest. It usually lasts a half hour or so. He climbs on me laughing and poking at my face until I finally get up. I sit up and he climbs out of the bed. First thing he does? Grabs my phone and hands it to me––with a proud look on his face. Adorable, isn’t it? Well not so much. It is sad. Sad that he knows that my phone is that high on my priority list. The funny thing is that phones have always been a pet peeve of mine. I get irritated when people are always on their phone. It is pathetic when you are at a restaurant and can’t have a good old fashioned conversation because you are too busy checking updates on Facebook or sports scores.

I now am that person. I irritate me! I pick up my phone for no reason, hold it in my hand, and feel anxious when it’s not in my sight. Why? Habit or addiction? Ugh. I will say, that when I am playing with my kids I set my phone down (most of the time). Another thing I don’t do, maybe because I am paranoid in public places, is play on my phone at a park. Your kids are playing and you can’t see what they are doing. Hey! Your kid just pushed my kid but you didn’t see it because you were too busy playing Candy Crush. What if someone took your kid and when asked what you were doing you’d have to say, “Uh, playing on my phone?” While my kids are eating a snack or lunch is a different story. My first thought is me wondering where my phone is. Wow.

I know I am not alone in this habit/addiction. I see it everywhere I go. I don’t even want to carry on into the texting while driving issues. Ok, I feel the need to give just one example. The other day a car cut me off when the driver was making a left turn out of a grocery store. The road is a very busy road and she in no way had the space to be turning. My heart sank when I swerved to not hit her (two precious kids in my backseat) and so I look over and she was on her phone…obviously texting! That is brave to be making a left turn while playing on your phone. Think about it, she was leaving the grocery store so I assume she lived close by…why couldn’t she wait to get home to play on her phone? Was it that important that she put her life, my life and, my kids life in danger? I know I may not be as bad as some like the car texter but I am still bad enough that it distresses me.

Will I throw my phone away? No. Do I think phones are the devil? No. Phones have many great qualities and are essential in many ways. I just want to be more present, again. I like having real conversations and feeling the connection it brings by looking people in the eye and conversing. The most paramount possessions are the people right in front of me. No device can replace them. The most precious moments flash by so fast. Did I miss some because I was on my phone?

Luke is four and has many moments where he acts like a four year old…or three year old…or sometimes a two year old. It’s normal. Kids revert back to stages many times. It is all a part of learning and growing. Heck, there are times that I act like a two year old. Aside from the moments of being a kid, I have the pleasure of witnessing the person Luke will be as an adult. Sometimes it lasts only for a few seconds, but those few seconds make me proud. He is my little gentleman. Here are a couple instances.

My friend and her two daughters came in from out of town for a visit. Her youngest, Camden, is Luke’s age. The night they drove in, I allowed Luke to stay up past his bedtime so he could see her. He said, “I will wait all night to see Camden.” Tired and barely able to keep his eyes open––he did just that. When they pulled in the driveway, Luke and I went out to greet them. Camden gets out of the car holding her backpack and says, “This backpack is so heavy.” Luke quickly responded, “I am strong, I’ll carry it for you.” A couple days later, we were in the backyard and Camden announced that she did not like bugs. Luke, naturally, grabbed his plastic baseball bat and stated that he would get rid of all the bugs for her.

The other day at a playground Luke was playing with a little girl. She was struggling to get across one of those bridges that move when you walk across it. Luke jumped off the structure and “held” the bridge down so it wouldn’t move for her. Then when they found a bug by the slide, Luke quickly got rid of it and (very proudly) said, “I got rid of the bug for you.”

I just adore hime. The end.

I went for a run today. The first real run in a while. I felt like I was five hundred pounds and had never ran in my life. I am not new to running or working out. It is something that I enjoy. I work out about four days a week (on a normal week). Since Oliver has been born, I just find it easier to go the the gym. I drop the kids off at the child watch and I workout. Easy. To wait for Matt to get home to go out for a run just doesn’t work. Or maybe that’s an excuse.

My usual workout is the elliptical or the bike, and then some weights. I am trying to tone up a bit so I have been doing more weights lately. Ok like I said, I enjoy running. I have a weird phobia when it comes to treadmills. I am convinced that my shoe lace will get caught and I will fall to my death. I am going to blame this one on my brother Tony. There was a night (a long time ago) that he and someone else turned a treadmill on full blast…then ran, jumped on the treadmill and whooshed through the air landing on their butts. This went on for about an hour until one of them got their pants caught and ripped. It was hilarious to watch. But after that, I realized the sheer power that a treadmill holds. I have the same phobia with escalators.

The gym that I go to has an indoor track. Here’s my next lame excuse. The track circles the entire upper gym. When I am on an elliptical or other machine you can see the track. I have a habit of watching the runners. I study the real runners…I watch their technique, take mental notes and forget as soon as I get home. Then there are the not so real runners. Actually most of them walk. I don’t mind walkers, physical activity is physical activity and it is good. It is the social walkers I can not stand. The walk and talk to their friends and don’t move out of the way people drive me looney. I almost have wanted to get off the elliptical, tap them on the shoulder and remind them of their rudeness. There are lanes designated for walking, you know. No excuse…unless of course you can’t read. Still no excuse because it should be common courtesy to let someone pass. I get so irritated and I am not even the runner trying to slide past them.

I guess the point of all this is that running is the best workout (in my opinion) and I have no good reason not to be doing it more. Especially since I really like to run. I need to face my fear and jump on the treadmill. I need to stop making excuses and wait for Matt to come home or wake up early and go for a run. Maybe I should also use the indoor track. If I have to shove some social walkers out of my way–I won’t. I’ll scream, “Get off my traaaaaccccck.” I won’t do that either. The most I’ll do is say excuse me and maybe roll my eyes as I pass.

We walk in the coney island, it looks like an old diner. The place is small…really small. There is a counter with stools and Luke runs up and sits on one. Luke asks, “Can we sit here?” He brings his best pouty face forward and bounces with anticipation. We give in and decide Matt will just keep Oliver on his lap. There is one waitress attending to all the tables. Like I said the place is small so it is not surprising. She has a hard expression on her face and she speaks without emotion. Matt and I give each other the sarcastic “great” look and roll our eyes. I am tired, hungry and don’t feel like dealing with a mean waitress. When we order our food I can feel her eyes go through me. Her glare makes me even more irritated and Matt and I shoot each other another look.

When the food arrives, she places Luke’s poke in the middle (over easy) eggs in front of him and he asks in a demanding voice, “Where is my toast!” We apologize for Luke and tell the waitress he is still learning his manners. She chuckles. Wow she can actually smile? Then she looks at me and says, “My son still forgets his manners sometimes”. I chuckle. Our eyes meet and it feels like we connect. She then tells me her son who is older has down syndrome and although he knows his manners he will push you out of the way as he is saying please to get to what he wants. The connection places me in her shoes for a moment and a flash of her hard life goes through me. I look at the place differently. I see how hard it must be, even though it is a tiny restaurant, to be the only waitress. Also how hard it is to be a waitress––period. Her mood lightens up and she is more talkative. She even tells me, as she hands us a plate of graham crackers (that we didn’t ask for), that her son packed her a lunch…of only graham crackers. I laugh and everyone eats one. We pay for our food and get up to leave. She hands me two dollar coins and tells me that they are for the boys. “Put the coins in each of their piggy banks and it will bring them good luck.” We thank her and leave.

I walked into the coney island with a chip on my shoulder. I didn’t sleep well the night before and was moody from other things not even worth mentioning. The waitress seemed to have a chip on her shoulder as well. Maybe a customer was mean to her or maybe she just had a lot on her mind…I don’t know. What I do know is I want to remember her and the brief connection we had. I want to be able to see that no matter how moody I may be and for whatever made me moody…there are others who are struggling at the same time. We get so caught up in our own issues that we forget that everyone has issues that they deal with. Funny how a dinner at a little coney island put things into perspective for me.

Morning
I am rocking Oliver; our cheeks are pressed against each others. Luke crawls up on my lap and I kiss his forehead. Luke reaches over and holds Oliver’s hand. Both boys are smiling. There is no other place I can imagine being. It doesn’t last long. Luke gets down and asks for something to eat. Oliver follows. I make breakfast and then dress the boys for the day. We walk to the park that is down the street. Oliver follows Luke around and his eyes tell me that he can’t wait to climb and play as his big brother does. We walk back home and change into swimsuits. The boys splash around in the pool then climb into the sandbox. Wet sand is stuck to every inch of their exposed skin. I rinse the boys off with the hose, dry them with a towel, and we go inside.

Afternoon
It is lunchtime. I put a cheese pizza in the oven for Luke and make Oliver a grilled cheese sandwich. After lunch Oliver goes down for a nap. He naps for about three hours. During that time, Luke and I do activities…spelling, crafts or whatever. I also fit in some laundry and dishes. Luke loves to help with the daily chores. Oliver wakes up and we play in his room. He loves the Elmo puppet book. Both Luke and Oliver dance around as Elmo the puppet (Mommy) sings silly songs.

Evening
The day has passed by so fast and it is time to cook dinner. The boys flock to the kitchen and the whining for food begins. In order to stay sane, I blast some music and dance around. Distraction works wonders. The whining winds down and my boys are happy dancing and laughing at their goofy Mommy. Dinner is just about finished as Matt walks in the door. The boys attack him. Matt takes them upstairs while he changes. I set the table and then dinner is served. After dinner, we clean up, relax and then get Luke and Oliver ready for bed. Oliver goes down first and then Luke. Matt and I will hang out and then go to bed.
This is my usual day. How lucky am I that I get to stay at home and experience this kind of joy on a daily basis? I only work one weekend a month and sometimes that feels like it is too much. I love that I get to watch my boys grow, laugh, cry, throw tantrums, play and discover. I love my simple life. The end.

For our third anniversary, Matt surprised me with a trip to Chicago. Luke was going to stay with Matt’s parents. I was excited but nervous because it was the first time that we would be away from him for more than one night. Fun fun fun was had on that trip. I missed Luke but the time away was much needed. We came home and went back to our normal routine. Well…until I found out I was pregnant. We were trying so it was no surprise. (It is a standing joke that Matt and I can’t go away on our own because I always come back pregnant…we found out I was pregnant with Luke after our honeymoon.)

The pregnancy was pretty much the same as my first. The first trimester was a little worse, but I was chasing a little one around so there was no napping as I pleased. Second trimester was easy peasy. The third was ok in the beginning but the end was rough. A month before my due date, I wound up with a stomach virus that ended in a visit to the ER for IV fluids. It sucked.

I had a C-section scheduled this time, it was nice knowing the exact date and time when Oliver would come. Everything was set and planned for his arrival date. Oliver had a different plan though. He was eager to enter the world. Two weeks before I was supposed to have him…I went into labor. My doctor feared I was still dehydrated from the stomach virus so he pumped me with IV fluids in hopes that it would stop the labor. It didn’t. The one thing I looked forward to with having a scheduled c-section was not having to feel the contractions of labor. Yep. I had to go through hours of labor with a IV hooked up to me. Grrrrr. Finally my doctor decided to do the c-section.

When Oliver arrived, the doctor lifted him up and then he was swiftly swept away. He had fluid in his lungs. Oliver was sent to the special care nursery and I to the recovery room. It felt nauseating not having him near. An uneasiness dwelled in me and I hated not being able to nurse him right away. Matt was extremely anxious but denied it. The pacing back and forth gave it away. At one point they did wheel my bed into the room so I could see Oliver. He was hooked up to oxygen and other misc. tubes. All I wanted to do was hold my baby tight. All I could do was hold his tiny hand and cry. It was awful. I knew it could have been much worse but at that moment it was horrifying. Hours (felt like days) later I got my precious Oliver in my arms and all was right in my world.

Oliver has brought a lightness to our family. He makes me…makes us all more playful. He is laid back and happy pretty much at all times. He laughs and dances while his eyes gleam. You can’t help but to be happy when you are around Oliver. His goofiness balances Luke’s serious nature. While Oliver makes me smile…Luke makes me think. Luke never takes “I don’t know” or “because I said so” for an answer. There have been times I have looked things up because I didn’t know the answer. Really I have. I love his inquisitiveness and his persistence (most of the time). My boys–what else can I say except that I am madly deeply in love with them.

I would have fallen asleep if a coworker didn’t startle me. My head was resting on the table in the break room––something I never did. He asked me why I was so tired and then told me I was pregnant. I said no and he laughed and said I definitely was. Was that why I was so tired? Oh my. The rest of my work day was blurred. All I could think about was (of course) the possibility of me being pregnant. I got off work and went straight to the store to buy a pregnancy test…actually three tests. First test positive. Second test positive. Third test positive. I felt an excitement I can not describe. Then the nervousness set in.

I was sick most of my first trimester. The second and third trimester was easy. I planned on a natural birth. I read books and practiced breathing techniques and felt at peace with the decision. One night Matt and I were watching tv and something happened (I will spare the details). I went into labor and off we went to the hospital. I could not believe that it was really happening. I was going to be a mother. I stuck with my natural childbirth plan. 23 hours later with no pain medicine started to wear me down. My doctor explained that the baby was not descending. I would have to have a c-section. I was devastated. I felt like my body was failing me. I felt defected that I could not have a natural childbirth. When my doctor lifted Luke up and I heard his cry for the first time, all my sad feelings disappeared.

Plans go wrong all the time when you are a parent. I have learned to be more flexible. With that, I have become a happier person. Today is Luke’s fourth birthday. I can’t believe how much he has grown…I can’t believe how much I have grown. I love you Luke and thank God for bringing you to me.

Casey was at work and I was sitting on the couch. Instant messaging at least once an hour with her was an everyday occurrence. We lived together and apparently still had so many important things to pass on. She worked during the day and I at night––how could we have possibly waited until eleven pm to tell each other these things? Here is how I recall this important IM:

“Casey”: Hey do you think that guy Matt I work with is cute?

Me: Yes he is really cute…why are you asking me that?

“Casey”: Just wondering what you thought of him.

Me: Ok

That seemed like a pretty normal conversation between two females. Right? I went to work that afternoon, came home and Casey and I hung out for a while before we went to bed. I asked her again why she was asking me that because I am nosy. My recollection of our conversation:

Casey: (confused look on face) What?!? Matt! That jerk (or something along those lines). He must have jumped on my computer when I ran out side.

Me: (completely embarrassed) I should have known.

The next day I decided to get even. I found a picture of him on the computer…probably one from Casey and went to work. The end result was his cute little face superimposed on a jester’s body. I had a hobby of superimposing heads on random things. I must say, it was some of my best work. The next part was Casey’s job. She printed a bunch out and posted them throughout their workplace.

Long story short, Matt met his match and so did I. We took things slow and our love grew and grew and grew. Now married with two kids. Who would have thought?