Memories Of The Past, Memories In The Making

I'm eight years old, and it is officially the first day of school. I'm off to First Grade in Mrs. Bartley's class. I'm all ready to go in my white, ruffle-neck dress shirt, my purple overalls with the yellow tulip on the front, and my pigtails upon my head.

Being it's no more than a seven-minute walk to school, and back then, my area was pretty darn safe, my parents started out on the journey to my new school along side me, with Sarah, our Corgi. They stopped at the corner of the next street over from us and let me finish the walk on my own. As a big girl.

I remember vaguely, as I turned my head to see my parents still standing there at the corner, after I crossed the street, then crossed to the opposite corner at the end of the block. They waved to me, my dog looking sad and in wonderment of where her "sister" is going off to without her. My mom, I saw wiping tears from her eyes, trying not to fall apart, as most of us mothers do when their babies start trying out their wings.

After waving good-bye and walking out of their sight, I can only imagine how Mom fell apart, and how Dad had to console her on that "lonely" walk back to the house after I made the rest of my way off to school that beautifully warm and sunny morning.

But that would also be the last time she would ever see me take that "big leap" in growing up. Ever. Because the year before I was to start Junior High/Middle School, my mother had passed away after having suffered from a massive stroke and pneumonia.

Yesterday (Thursday, August 18th) my oldest had her Middle School orientation to take a dry run at finding her classes, knowing how to get in to her locker, meet her teachers and to learn the rules.

She has to get on the bus now, about an hour earlier than before, when she attended Elementary School. And she is fine with that. Because she also now gets out about an hour earlier than her siblings.

As my daughter waited outside at the bus stop (which for her, is now across the street) I had the flashbacks. I saw her as a tiny girl again, just starting Preschool. She and I waited for the bus at the top of the hill near our former home. She was SO excited. And I watched as she clomped up each step with her short, stubby little legs, and her huge backpack on her back, as she boarded the bus. It took all that I had to not just lose it right then and there.

Yesterday, it hit me. Not only am I seeing my little girl, my first born, grow up before my very eyes into what will be a stunningly beautiful young woman, but I am witnessing something my mother never was able to have the chance to, and never will. Not with myself, and not with her grandchildren.

I was VERY close to my oldest daughter's age when I lost my mother. And I am only about eight and a half years younger than my mother's age when she died. It pains me to know that my mother has had to miss out on SO much. My marriage. My kids. How I have grown and matured. My overcoming of many medical obstacles.

While I feel blessed and fortunate to be here to see and experience the wonders of my children as they each make their own headway in the world and leave their own marks on the world, it still saddens me that I didn't get the chance to have my mom see all that I can.

So, I guess in a way, I am living life and experiencing these things for the both of us. And I often times wonder what Mom would say, think or do. What would she say about how my life has turned out? What would she say about the man that I married or how I am raising and rearing my children?

Sadly, those are questions that will forever haunt me and be left unanswered. And to this day, it is still hard for me to come to terms with that fact.

I'm "Pouring My Heart Out" via Shell

With all that is going on lately, I think it's finally time to sit here and indeed...



Between an "extended" winter break this year for the schools, my kids fighting because of 'cabin' fever, my son having problems as of late, I am shocked that I'm not in the Psych Ward having meds fed to me three times a day.

If you want a better picture of what is happening with my son, then I suggest that you READ THIS.

As for the longer winter break, we are this year (and hopefull JUST this year) on the college schedule as to help with the budgeting, heating costs and other "costs".

But the biggest thing on my plate is the fact that my husband's grandfather has taken a turn for the worse and there is indeed no going back. I'd written about him a good while back, when we thought that the end was imminent. Of course, once more, Big Papa fooled us all. And even then, I shared my fears of when it's REALLY time. But this time, it's different.

Now, Big Papa is in the beginning of Kidney Failure. And he has flat out refused Dialysis. So, no amount of fluid intake will reverse it and once one organ starts the shut-down process, it's not long before other major organs follow.

We'd taken Hayley (who's the oldest at eleven, and knows fully of what's going on) with us to see Papa yesterday. She sat there and answered a couple of questions. As soon as he complimented her on how beautiful she's become as a young lady, she got up and left the room as to not let Big Papa see her cry.

After seeing she was right outside the door, I made the excuse that I wanted the guys (Scott and his granddad) to have some time alone. Which was true to an extent, but more to check on my kid.

I feel like I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place at this point. Mainly with Scott and Hayley, who will be most affected by the loss when Big Papa indeed does finally pass.

Scott's had this man in his life for almost 40 years. Hayley's known him for most of her eleven years. And she knows it's not everyday a kid can say I KNOW my GREAT-Grandparents.

I've got a responsibility ahead of me. One I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. One to be there for my kids, who will at different levels be grieving.

And I've got to be there to "hold up" my husband when this all goes down, knowing he will be taking this loss extremely hard. And knowing he is one of the pallbearers is of no consolidation to me, either.

All the while, I'll be having to deal with my own grief. So, knowing myself, I'll do my best (and more than likely succeed) to hold it all together and keep it all internalized until the primary portion of the storm passes by.

I've always been of the mind set that if I fall apart when everyone else is that's around me, then no one will be of use to anyone. It's kind of like "the blind leading the blind" in other words.

So, deep down, I know what's headed for me, for my family, and for the family as a whole when all is said and done. But I'm scared that when push comes to shove, I won't be who or what I need to be when the need arises.

Yeah. The Secret Is Finally Out.

I guess I can let this secret out. Even though a few "choice" friends may already know. Then again, maybe they don't.

No, it's not about my stalker like fascination with Nicolas Cage. That's already out in the open to the entire world most everyone.

But it is nearly along the same lines. See, I have been watching a Soap Opera of one kind or another since I was about nine years old. I would come in after school, my mom would be sitting there in the living room, watching Days Of Our Lives. Man! That was a great one back in the day (1980's).

After Mom died, I stopped watching Daytime Television (Soaps) for a good two or three years. Then, I started watching All My Children one summer, while off from school.

That show got REALLY good, and the characters were great! Especially three main guys. Edmund Grey. Trevor Dillon. And of course, Tad (The Cad) Martin.

At the same time, I was also getting in to the show One Life To Live. And there was one main character I had been "in to". That was Bo Buchanan.

Now you are probably sitting there, doing the math. Yes, I was an early to late-aged teenager back in the 1990's. And all these guys from AMC and from OLTL are AT LEAST oh, twenty years or more my senior.

And you are probably asking yourself why I didn't go for the teen guys or even the ones in their twenties (at that time).

The answer is simple. They did not appeal to me. Sure, I'm like any other girl. I love a hot, muscular body. But I want the personality, sensitivity and maturity to go with it. And none of those studs youngsters did it for me.

Even now, when I am approaching 34 29 years old, I will take Tad and Bo over Robert Ford and Ryan Lavery any day of the week.

Bo has the good guy quality. He is a hero and a stand-up guy. He is honest and forthright. He loves who he does with everything that he has and shows it.

Tad possesses uninhibited humor, loyalty to his friends and family and is the go-to guy when the chips are down.

If you put the qualities of those two men together, can you imagine the kind of man you could end up having? All I can say is WOW!

My ex-husband (Hayley's father) is sixteen years my senior. And after that train wreck, I decided to not have an "older gentleman" as a husband or a boyfriend again. Been there, done that, got burned.

Now, I am *not* saying that being in a relationship with an older man of more than five or six years than your age is ALWAYS asking for trouble. But I couldn't see myself if something happened (God forbid) to Scott (my current sucker husband) being with an older man like I was with my ex, again.

That is, unless it was Tad Martin or Bo Buchanan.

(*No copyright infringement intended. For entertainment purposes only.*)

Energy... I "had" it.

Sometimes, I will sit on our living room side porch outside. As I do, I will see the kids playing, running around and chasing one another.

And this is after a full day at school learning from their books, learning social skills and playing outside on the playground.

My children are normally on a school day up no later than 7:30 in the morning. They are on the go all day long at school. Then, they have to come home and change, do their homework and sometimes also do a couple of chores.

Still though, even after all of that, they manage to find the time and the energy to be active and energetic. And knowing them as well as I do, if one is slacking and not moving or talking much, then they have got to be sick with something.

This past week, since about Monday, it's been go here and there, do this and that for me. With barely any time for myself to sit and rest. In fact TODAY is my only real day "off" and not do a single thing. For the most part.

I've been readying for my oldest's upcoming birthday party (she turned 11 TODAY, but the party is Sunday), had gone on a trip with her class Tuesday, helped with a Staff Breakfast at school yesterday and then stayed for most of the day to help in the K class and with my weekly Art classes, being that I will be out of town with my son and his class tomorrow on another field trip.

Add in the get together for early Thanksgiving dinner with my FIL's side of the family and the party on Sunday, there's just no stopping or slowing down.

But it all caught up to me yesterday evening. I was so dead tired, that when I went to "snuggle" with my (soon to be) six year old (who's party will be the following Sunday) in bed, I fell asleep and was snoozing as soon as my head hit her pillow.

Now, I did get up about an hour later, thanks to her snoring. I moved in to MY bed downstairs and drifted right back off to sleep. And apparently, my husband let our other two children sleep on the Family Room couch downstairs. What a surprise to wake up to.

But it's safe to say that one, I went to be extremely early (which is highly unusual, and being it was 8:30). And two, I slept a good oh, ten hours almost straight. Neither of which I think I have honestly done in YEARS like that.

The more that I think of it, I have a feeling that in (less than) a week's time, I have given the Energizer Bunny a run for his moola. Although, I certainly now know, thanks to my body telling me so, I am not as young as I used to be and that age TRULY IS catching up to me. As is the arthritis and tendinitis in my knees.

Dear Lord! I *am* turning in to my father. (cries)

Reality Sets In Three Fold For Me As A Mom...In One Morning.

That time for them has finally come to pass. No longer are they small, helpless, needy children. Now they are increasingly independent, strong, knowledgeable 'tweens'.

In one fail swoop, I'm being forced to not only start letting go of one of the three, but TWO of them at one time. And it will only get more difficult to do so as the next few years fly by.

Hayley started walking the five minutes to school last week, but still coming home on the bus. Now, her brother who is seventeen months her junior is starting to walk to school as well. And again, come home on the bus.

Which in turn has forced my (soon to be) six year old to be a "big girl" and ride the school bus on her own. But starting last week, she started riding ONE day a week after school to come home, being that both Hayley and Bryce are now in the after school program of Art Club.

This coming Thursday, Hayley, who is my oldest, will be eleven. Lord how these years have just flown on past. It's been a ride thus far. And with her mature attitude being more of a fourteen year old, her wings are spreading faster than I had hoped.

The week after, Skyler, who is the "baby" of the family will be six! So, soon, she will no longer officially be a "baby" of sorts to the world. She will no longer be a toddler or a preschooler. She will be an adolescent. Again, I am at a loss of where all the years have gone. Like a wind, they blew past with nary a care of what a mother's heart feels.

When I watched (through the closed front door's glass) Hayley and Bryce cross the street and head down the block towards school, I had them flash in my head as they were when they were little. I saw them as they used to be. Suddenly, I got back in to the reality of what I was witnessing, and for a brief moment, longed for those days once more.

Then, watching Skyler cross from about half way at the bus stop on her own (I walked her half way in to the street) to get on to it alone for the first time, my heart sank and I had to fight my wanting to walk her the rest of the way, it hurt to know that she too has stepped one closer away from me and becoming her own individual.

In these two brief moments of one morning, I wished to God I could stop time. Just for a few seconds. I wanted to turn back the clock to the times where they inherently needed me to the fullest extent. I have witnessed this morning the anxiety of a mother "losing" their children to the world. All at once. Each one making their own individual paths in the world.

How many ways can a mother's heart ache and break? Many. Including watching them all take their own paths in society and forming their own identities.

It's one thing to watch them do this one at a time. But to see all three of your children do this on different levels at once is completely overwhelming. Gone are the days of cooing, learning to walk and talk, being dependent even on me for the simplest of things and asking silly questions such as why the sky is one color and the ground another.

These are the days where you are extremely proud of who you are raising your children to be. But it sucks also, because in the same thought, you wish you could do it all over again with them and keep time as it is.

Letting Go...Not That Easy (get out the tissues)

Over at FaceBook, I do this one application called "On This Day,God Wants You To Know". While I am a Christian, I am not very devout. I believe, and I do read the Bible. I pray for others as needed and felt led to.

With these "messages" from God, it gives you these little encouraging tidbits on how to improve your life, or of someone around you, and lets you know that you aren't alone.

Today's read for me as follows...

"On this day, God wants you to know... that it's time you let go. Yes, of course, you want to control so everything happens in just the way you want it. But at the end of the day, we control nothing, - it's all in God's hands, - has always been, and will always be. So, do what you can, and then let go, and let God handle the rest."

Above this, I had stated in the status area... (my words)

"It's not so much for me, but someone else that this is going to be hard to do. A lifetime can't be let go of that easily. Although, I DID get a lifetime of what I lacked in just one decade. For that I'm forever grateful."

You see, I had grown up since infancy with only my two grandmothers. Both of my grandfathers were dead. One passed a year or around there before my birth. The other died in Germany, during World War II when MY dad was only six months old.

The only 'grandfather' I had was my Great-Grandfather. But he passed away when I was six years old. And I don't have much memory of him or our time together, sadly.

For years and years, I often wondered what having a grandfather in my life would be like. I wondered what my grandfathers would have done with me activity-wise. Fishing, walks, talks about yesteryear. Even throwing a ball around would have been nice (being I was a tomboy).

After Scott and I had gotten together, I started meeting his folks. Good, southern, country-hospitality type of people. Love of family, country and God. Then one day, it was time for my first experience meeting the WHOLE side of Scott's dad's kin. WOW!! Think about this, his grandparents, their SEVEN kids, and THEIR other halves. Then add in all of THEIR kids. And even some more kids after that. LOTS of people.

Almost instantaneously, his grandparents took me under their wing and called me "just another of their grandkids". I have since then had a surprising and unexpectedly unique place in my heart for those two. Especially Scott's grandfather. He is a man of a few words. He has hands of steel. But also full of love. Even now, in his frailty. He has ALWAYS been good and kind to my oldest child and daughter, Hayley, who is from my first marriage. He (as well as Scott's grandma and the rest of the crew) treats her like she has ALWAYS been a Cowart. Nothing less.

For him and his family to take my daughter and I in to their hearts as they have, I will ALWAYS be grateful, thankful and filled with pride.

This past Saturday, we had the annual family picnic/reunion. This year though, everyone (except an aunt, Scott and a nephew, due to work schedule conflicts mainly) was there. It was great to see. Everyone was smiling, laughing, reminiscing, and just sharing of themselves.

This is also most likely the last one with the patriarch of the family. Big Papa (Scott's grandfather) has been steadily declining over the last year. At this time last year, he was hospitalized, and we thought he was not going to make it. He did. And they gave him six more months to live...Just over six months ago.

We all know that the inevitable is coming. It's no longer a matter of if, but of when. And with only ten percent of Big Papa's heart working, we know that time is most certainly precious for each day that we all still have him in our lives.

I've suffered some of the worst loss imaginable as a child. I lost my mother when I was twelve years old. Scott has lost a couple of uncles that I know of, and his Maternal Grandparents (one before birth and one at eight years old).

Losing a cousin or an aunt or uncle is one thing. But to lose a parent at a young age is just in a way fatefully cruel. Losing a grandparent so far in to adulthood yourself, can deal a huge blow to your heart.

Scott's going to take this hard. He is quite close with Big Papa and Big Grandma. It will really be his first major loss that he will understand. And it's already killing both of us inside.

I was actually not going to go. I had my reasons. But then I changed my mind. Now, I am glad I did. And I even got a few pictures of the kids with their great-grandparents.

After getting home and staring at the one of the girls with Big Papa, Skyler sitting on his lap, and him looking SO happy, it hit me. This was quite possibly THE last time I myself will see him alive, being I don't get to personally see them that much. Nor do the kids.

Thanks to that man, he gave me in ten years, what I yearned for, for practically my entire life. To know what it's like to have a grandfather in your life. And I was fortunate enough to receive this BEAUTIFUL gift from him.

It's going to be hard for me when his journey here is over. But I know it will be much, MUCH harder for Scott. And I can only hope and pray now, that when the time comes, I will be the rock he needs me to be. To be the comfort he needs. To have the right words when he asks "why" and "how".

Yes, we all must let go. Of past hurts, of anger and of sadness. But at times, knowing you must let go makes you want to hold on even tighter due to the fear of the loss. Letting go of those that are most important in your life in ANY means can be difficult. But there are those very special someone's that it seems IMPOSSIBLE that you have to let them go.

And Big Papa is going to be one of them.

I found a new home! Moms of TWEENS and of TEENS unite.

I have been with the site for now almost four months now. It's okay. Not as spiffy as FaceBook (or even CafeMom). But it's cute. And it's not just for *any* mom. It's for those of us going gray and bald (some of us at the SAME TIME!) due to having 'tweens' or teens.

It's aptly named Momster. And believe me, some of us can (and usually do) live up to the name! There are days where you just can't win the battle of Teenhood and you turn in to the Momster, which of course, your teen or 'tween' conveniently points out.

There, you can start or join groups, blogs, and discussions. You have your own profile page where the ONLY thing I have noted, is that you CANNOT post *current* updates like you can at FaceBook, or at CafeMom. Otherwise it is a nice site.

And *most* mothers on Momster seem to be of the more mature sect. Not the teen know-it-all's, first time moms with little babies (though some DO have younger kids, plus a teen/tween, like myself). There seems to be MUCH less distention on the forums there.

So MOTHERS of tweens and teens, if this sounds like the site to you, that you wish to join and commiserate with other moms like you, then feel free to FOLLOW ME over to MOMSTER.COM and see what it's all about. Hope to see you there...

The Tween Scene (per my experiences)

I've been the mother 'officially' of a Tween (ages nine, through twelve) for the past year and a half. Believe me when I say, it certainly is no picnic. Especially when your experience is from having the oldest of the three going through this is a girl, no less. Figures. God had to get the good laughs from me.

My oldest is now a ten-year-old she-devil (at times). Not to mention, Hayley is just about as tall as I am. AT THE AGE OF TEN, people!!...I'm only a mere five-foot-tall, petite lady. And here, my daughter is (literally) right under my nose.

She is also already having bouts of PMS (putting up with Mom's shit). So, if we happen to be hormonal at the same time, it's game on in my house. And it ain't pretty! We have been known to almost claw one another's eyes out. And that's on a GOOD day, mind you.

Add in the fact that Hayley is already "budding", and it makes my anguish fueled even more. Why? Because I know that once those puppies start to really...*ahem* sprout, that she is going to be beating her mother in that department. And that's when I drag out my husband, Scott's old Softball METAL bat from the attic. It's gonna be my "beat a boy" bat for those that want to take advantage of my little girl.

Yep. I have this all mapped out. I'm ready to roll with the big punches.

As for my son, Bryce, he JUST entered the world of Tweenhood. So far, so good. Then again, those hormones have yet to even hit him. But I can say for sure, that knowing him, when they do, it's going to be World War Three in my home. And I already told Scott that being he laid the girls (BOTH of them mind you) on me to 'handle', that it is HIS job to strictly deal with the boy when he starts to uh....mature in more ways than one (not including the voice thing).

To me, these days, raising tween is like raising a pack of rabid wolves. You never, ever know from day to day, much less, from hour to hour, what the members of your pack are going to say, do, or think. My daughter changes her mind faster than I can change a battery in my remote. Not to mention the emotional part of the package....That alone can drive you insane faster than a Nascar race car going over 200 MPH.

But, then again, my daughter is truly dishing out what I know I gave to my poor Dad, who pretty much single-handedly raised me on his own, after mom died. For those first couple of years, I know I was hell on wheels. My Nana made matters worse when she "moved" (more like snuck) her way in to our 'happy home'.

Talk about hell on wheels! I made it my life's mission to make her life MISERABLE while she was with us. And I actually succeeded. And her own paranoia even got the best of her. She was sure that I was a druggie (Pot). Why? Because I wanted my PRIVACY. So, I kept my door to my room closed most of the time. That made her madder than anything else.

These days, I've taken what I did as a 'tween' (there was no such thing in my day), think on WHY I did/said what I had, and I apply reason and independence, as well as boundaries based on my past experiences.

*My* 'tween' can close her door (and sometimes lock it) for privacy. She is allowed to say how she feels (as long as it's constructive communication) without worry of getting a 'tongue lashing' for having her own views. Hayley is allowed to talk to her friends on the phone, in private. She can cook for herself (some things...Dad is teaching her how to cook, being that they share in that).

Most of all, I'm letting her grow up and see the world for herself. She will one day be on her own, and she will need to see that life isn't always fun, games, rainbows and puppies. I let her know in honest terms of what her body is doing and why. I'm letting her know now, snippets of why her biological father and I are no longer together (and why I married 'Dad'). She is also learning the TRUTH about certain family members in her bio-dad's family, being he (as I had found out by her) has been LYING about them.

Some days, Hayley and I do not see eye-to-eye on a single thing. Most days, we are like two peas in a pod. But she knows that our relationship has boundaries. I am NOT her "friend" or her "buddy". Not yet. Those days will come along soon enough, after she is grown and on her own. I am first and foremost (and will ALWAYS BE) her mother and a part of her 'parenting team'.

After all, it certainly takes a village to raise a tween...or two.

Hair, sleeping, and timing. It's all relevant.

How many times have you said to yourself that you are mad at YOU, because you had that rare chance to sleep in? Try having that conversation with yourself every stinking weekend!

Yep. Try as I may, I can never really (for the most part) sleep past 6:30 in the morning. Why?

Because (now) three out of seven days a week (used to be five out of seven), I was used to having my husband get up at 5:30 every work day to be on the clock at six. Hence, I would go back off to Dreamland, only to wake an hour later (okay, forty-five minutes...geez!).

Now his hours have changed and I'm scared to think that between his new, wacky schedule, and the kids that THINK that they run the roost, that I may end up pulling my (now even more gray) hair out. Now it's three days a week, be there at six. One day a week, at FOUR IN THE MORNING! And one day a week, it's the 1:30 to ten at night shift.

Speaking of grays. I have harbored new ill-willed feelings towards my hair. Folks, I am only thirty-three Yes! Thirty-three. And already, I have the hair color of a fifty-something. And these stupid, gray strands have finally brought upon me, the death match battle where my coloring it is concerned.

Now even the promise of 100% resistant gray coverage via my bottle of Nice N' Easy (**No commercializing, profiting, advertising is intended**) in  one of their Red shades is doing the trick, anymore.

Sadly, my once gray-free hair (before a second marriage and three kids) is being savagely over-ran with those gray "old-people-maker" warriors. And they are, I'm sorry to announce, winning the fight.

But!!!...Yes, there is a 'but' in this whole mess (besides my own butt)...I will not give up the fight for luxurious, gray-free, red (of some shade or another), multi-highlighted (three shade highlight formula coloring) hair. I will (one day) prevail and take a part of my youth back.

Other that all of that, it's been a pretty good week. And I hope that I have given you a few good chuckles to end out your week. Especially if this one has not been the kindest to you.

Until next time... Oh and if you are in to the Paranormal, ghosts, and hauntings, please feel free to also visit me at my NEW blog page, http://paranormel.blogspot.com/. So far, there is only one entry. But, soon  to be two, being that after this post is entered, I shall be writing in ParanorMel.

Have a great weekend, everyone!