Just One Year

I just looked at our children - and started to cry.

Until I thought about it I had no idea why.

It's been just one year, since you've been gone.

Do you know how hard it's been for everyone to go on?

You knew our oldest daughter had moved away.

She has moved back into town. I think she's here to stay.

She has learned hard lessons, and needed you most.

Sits on your dirt for hours, talking to your ghost.

Her hard work and success are so exciting to see.

She's determined just like you - and persevering like me.

And our middle child, wore your clothes every day.

She feared if she moved on that you would fade away.

We went for a road trip and found nature was true.

She let go of fear and sorrow, and still held on to you.

She made straight As in her classes, and varsity cheer. 

You won't believe what she's achieved in just one year.

Our littlest girl - she was so sad and so brave

That I had to hold her back from jumping into your grave. 

She may just be the strongest of the three.

She is funny just like you, and empathetic like me.

In just one year, you won't believe how she grew.

She's got a voice just like an angel flying straight up to you.

And me, my friend, except today,

I've held it all together and I'm doing okay. 

I have so many stories that would fill you with pride.

Guess I have to wait to tell you on the other side.  

  

Children are Ruff

When I arrived at my office building today, I noticed, as the elevator doors closed, a sign that read "Take Your Dog to Work Day." I realized, as the elevator doors opened again, there has never been a "Take Your CHILD to Work Day." I guess everyone knows that children are, well... okay like dogs crap all over the floor and there has still never been a "Take Your Child to Work Day."  

Children are challenging. There should be an Olympic sport for moms called "Whatthefuckjusthappened." The rules are as follows: Stay calm, loving, sane and rational until the finish line. In lieu of a gold medal, the winner is awarded hair dye, hot flashes, and a lovely permanent line indented between her eyebrows. 

Teenagers are relentless. My little Estrogenizer Bunnies just keep going and going and going and it's frightening to my nine year old. She freaked out last week because she cried, and then laughed. That's all. She cried, and then laughed. "I think I have PMS! I think I have PMS!" she ran around the house screaming. As if laughing, then crying were the gateway emotions to hell. They are, unfortunately. They are. And there is nowhere to go but up. 

So up I go, to the seventh floor and I smile a little as the elevator doors open to my office. Because I know I am alone - without dog, without child. Serenity now, with a side of black coffee.  TGIF.

The Gigantic Star

Last night I put Maya, my super stressed out nine year old daughter, to bed. I tucked her in, rubbed her back, and told her a bedtime story. It went something like this...

Once upon a time there was a gigantic star in the sky. It was gazed upon by all and embraced by the people for many different things.

Some revered it and made wishes, and believed they would one day come true.

Some felt it's light would brighten their path in the darkest of times.

Others believed it guided them like a compass, in the direction that would lead them to an extraordinary destination.

Many feared it, for reasons unknown.

But a little girl named Maya knew the undeniable truth. The STAAR was nothing more than a stupid bullshit test. 

The end. You are awesome. STAAR Testing is dumb. Go to sleep. 

#letteachersteach

And She Lived

I screwed up as a mother. Again.

Last week, I had to miss Maya's open house to go to Sam's cheer meeting so I rescheduled the open house only to miss that one too because I had to stay late at work as I was behind from missing time to take the kids to the dentist. Maya was sad at me. Maya was mad at me. I had a plan, you see? And awry it went. 

To redeem myself, I took her to see the new Cinderella movie. We got large Icees, I learned how to put a straw in the self serve butter to get perfect popcorn, and found great seats. I was pretty confident I was out of the dog house until BAM - I messed up again. This time royally. Five minutes into the movie, Cinderella's mother fell ill and I realized what was about to happen next. I looked at Maya and said "Let's get out of here, Cinderella's mom is about to die." She said "No. I thought about this after Dad died. Princesses usually lose one or both parents. It's okay." "So, you've determined that you're a princess? Is that why you're so pretty." I asked. To which she replied, "Ya," then took my popcorn. 

After the movie, she asked, "What is the point of being a princess anyway? You always tell me there is no such thing as happily ever after." We sat on the bench and I thought for a minute. "You will live joyfully, mournfully, fearfully, painfully, hopefully, anxiously AND happily ever after. There is no way around it. Life is not always pretty. It is not always fun. HOWEVER... the good news is, at the end of the day you really do get to make out with the prince." "Ewwww!" she said laughing. "But what if he dies?" "Then you squeeze your kids. I love to squeeze my kids!" I said. "I really don't think I want kids though, unless I adopt." she said. "Then you'll get some cats. You'll kiss the cats. You'll squeeze the cats. You get the point?" "Ya," she said. "With cats, I will live happily ever after." 

Once upon a time, I screwed up as a mother. And even still, my Maya, I think she's going to be just fine. And live her wonderful imperfect life to the fullest. And maybe even pass on my wisdom and humor to her own children. Named Fluffy and Cupcake. The end.