The Year of The House

        I always liked going to Chinese restaurants and reading the zodiac.  It was fun.  According to the zodiac, I am a dragon.  I like that.  It seems fierce and strong and don't mess with me. Jarrad is a tiger and, fortunately, we are a good match.  Emma is a dog - we are not good matches so when she hits puberty and we really start to butt heads, I can blame it on her year. Sam is an ox and they aren't compatible with either the dragon or tiger. Hmm, our future seems very ... frustrating! 
       But I always like the idea of the year cycles.  Not only do you have a different animal every 12 years but there is a different element too.  This year is that of the fire rooster.  Not sure what that means, but it is interesting. 
     A whole year of something.  Not like the Greek and Roman horoscopes that only give you 30 ish days but a whole year.  It makes you think that time is precious and should be savored. I know, that seems . . . odd.  To savor a year.  But maybe it is because we get everything so quickly that the idea of a whole year seems different. 
     We do get things quickly.  That is why it is hard to wait.  And hard when the waiting is over. 
     4 years ago, we decided we needed a new house.  We tried to make this one work and it does.  It works.  But not forever.  The ramp is long and when Jarrad is tired, he has a hard time pushing up and we only have the one exit for him.  I suppose I could try to throw him out a window in case of emergency but I really don't see that happening.  He can get in and out of the house by himself but it requires some effort.  He can't really cook and he can't get the mail.  He can't really get into the kids rooms and he has no place to work.  As we look at getting older too, we are going to need a lift and where on earth would I put it?  Right now, we are making this house work but for how long? 
      But 4 years ago, we weren't ready.  There were too many unknowns.  Too many uncertainties.  We found a great realtor and she knew a builder who we were confident knew his stuff.  We thought we had found the perfect place but when it came down to the details, we were scared that we couldn't make it work and decided to wait.  We put together a plan and worked on it.  And now, we are ready.
     And now, we are scared again and just a little discouraged.
     Jarrad said to me the other day that it would be so much easier if he wasn't paralyzed.  And he is right.  It would be.  We wouldn't have to worry about stairs, flat lots, bathrooms.  We would have found the perfect house about now.  We wouldn't have to worry about floor plans and finding a 1 story house or finding a lot where we aren't on top of our neighbors.  But we might not be looking for a house.  The whole reason why we painted was to make this house more ours.  I had accepted that we would stay here forever.  It is March.  We are 3 months into The Year of The House and I don't know how much we have accomplished.  I was kind of hoping it would only be one year.  I was excited for it to be only one year but the reality of it is that it might be 2 or 3 years. 
      A year seems like a long time when you are ready to begin.

That stupid elf....

    We spent Saturday holiday shopping.  We had our usual leisurely Saturday morning and then headed out to the mall a week before Christmas!  Yes, I know but I never claimed to be brilliant.  We went to Barnes and Noble, Target (every lane was open), and Kohl's.  While waiting in line at Kohl's, Sam asked why we didn't have an elf. You know, that little doll that is styled like something from my Great Grandmother's childhood?  The one with the mitten-ed hands and slightly psychotic expression that makes you want to walk backwards out of the room. 
    It isn't the first time he has asked that question about why we don't have an elf.  This time, it was prompted by the lady in front of us who was carrying an elf "pet" (there is a pet now???). The conversation went something like this:
     "Mommy, why don't we have an elf?"
     "That's because I signed us up for the co operative plan."  (The lady in front of me sniggers.)
     "What does mean?"
     "It means that we share an elf with several families.   There is one elf that keeps watch on a bunch of families and he is invisible.  Besides, do you think Mommy would be on the nice list if she had to clean up all the messes that an elf would make?   You know how crazy Mommy gets when you leave messes.  The elf would drive mommy even more crazy!"
     This is where the lady in front turns and says,  "Actually, it is the shining list."  REALLY, lady I don't know, really?  I know you are laughing at this tale that I am spinning for my son and I may be adding more to contribute to your amusement but since I am clearly avoiding this brand new modern addition to what contributes to the craziness of this holiday season, why are you trying to sabotage my explanation?  Instead you should be applauding me for not being sucked into - the first year is cute, -the second year, still fun - but by the third year, you are kicking yourself for it - phenomenon.
     The side conversation going over his head, literally, Sam continues.  "If the elf isn't there all the time, how does he know when you are being good or bad?"
     "That is because he contracts out to your stuffties.   Instead of just the month of December, the stuffties watch you all year long." 
    Satisfied with the explanation, Sam turns to annoying his sister.  
    I know that if we had an elf, it wouldn't be forever that I would have to come up with new and creative ways for the elf to be naughty or whatever the reason why the elf does things at night.  I know that soon, the magic of Christmas will be gone.  I know that the kids won't always want to write letters to Santa.  I know that they won't always be excited to see if the reindeers' hooves left glitter on the driveway.  I know that this isn't forever.   So I know that the stupid elf would be a limited time and the kids would have a good memory of their childhood if we had an elf.  But I also know that they already have good memories and traditions that they can share when they have children of their own. One of those memories will be of mommy NOT going crazy with the elf! 

Big Numbers

     10 years ago at this time, I had a new born.
I had been a mom for a total of 4 days and I was exhausted.  The no sleep schedule, the nursing, the sticky poopy diapers.  The pain from a c-section.  The what-was-I-thinking?  I-don't-know-what-I-am-doing moments.  But somehow, I made it to 10 years.  A whole decade.  And somewhere along the line, I must have thought I had a handle on it because I did the whole no sleep, nursing, sticky poopy diaper c-section thing AGAIN!
     10 years.
     So how do you celebrate a decade of life?  2 words:  Room Makeover!
Yep, for Emma's 10th, she got a new room.  Goodbye bugs and princesses. Hello tweenager room!  This was her present (and a slumber party with some friends).
     So why?  Well, when I was in 9th? grade, I went away for a week and when I came back, my folks had redone my room and it was awesome!  Jarrad remembers his folks getting a bonus and he got to pick out a new bedroom set.  We decided we wanted to create that type of memory for our kids too and you know, they have more than enough stuff!
    Enter Pinterest.  So. many. ideas!  Jarrad had to pull me back; otherwise, I would keep going.  And I was pleased that Emma really got into it too.  She really wanted to help design and she did but I kept a lot a secret.  I let her pick out the colors and help paint.  We went fabric shopping and talked about what she liked and didn't like.
     We are both pretty pleased with the results. 
     I love before and afters sooo....

 This was her nursery.  And then, it became her "big girl" room.

BEFORE - the big girl room:

    You can see some of what we did before.  There are paint samples on the wall and I had already painted her dresser - Black Pearl. 
    And now, the after:

 

Emma picked out the sheer fabric at Joanne's.  The bedding was a surprise.  She wanted paisley and I found this on sale at Target.  

 Dad made the bookshelf.  It comes apart so when she gets a bigger bed, she can keep this.  The shelves are adjustable and he cut notches for cords.  There is also a bed light that she can turn on.  The jewelry frames are peg board and recycled frames from The Scrap Exchange.  I used knobs we had, glued sequins to IKEA knobs and spray painted ones from Hobby Lobby.  I bought the laser cutouts from Michael's.  Emma has 2 copies of Emma by Jane Austen from Litographs.

 Spray paint is awesome!  Everything that I could paint, I did.  From frames, to lamp shades to well, just everything. 

I had a lot of fun doing this.  She enjoyed what I allowed her to partake in and really loves the final product.  Which is good, because this is it for the next 8 years!

and then...

    There is a phrase "they dropped a bomb".  It means to say something so world changing, so explosive that it leaves everyone broken.
    But where is the phrase that means you want to tell people something but don't know how to say it because you can't really start a conversation with it as there is no transition and then you are left with awkwardness because no one knows how to transition away from it?
    That's what this post is.  I have told 5 people.  All wonderful friends and I don't know how to tell or what to say after I receive the genuine emotion.
     I just feel awkward.
     And sad. 
     My mother in law passed late Wednesday.
    I am glad we went to see her last week. It seems so weird that last week, we saw her, talked with her. Hugged her.  I helped her to change one day and she asked me what Jarrad had gotten me for our 8th anniversary (its been 12 years).  I showed her the ear rings and bracelet I was wearing. She said he did well. 
    She was a woman who loved her son.  She spoiled him by making his favorite dishes when she came.  She had a kind heart and couldn't sit still for long.  She always wanted to help - even when I didn't want her too!  She taught me that wearing an apron is always a good idea! She was sociable and knew how to make small talk - I guess that comes with being a minister's wife.  She was always concerned with the comfort of others.  She could be quite stubborn.
     I can't tell you how many times she changed her name but it was a few and I thought that was cool.  I asked her once what her original hair color was  - and she said she couldn't remember!  She always wanted to bake or cook with the kids because that is what she had done with her grandmother.  We didn't always see eye to eye and I am sure that she could be as frustrated with me as I was with her at times.  But we had one very important thing in common, we both loved Jarrad and wanted him to be happy.

   
   She was my husband's mother.  She was my children's Nana.  She will be missed.

How do you get rid of a whale?

    Sometimes, you are faced with a situation.  It seems huge and you don't even know where to begin.  Back after our Disney trip (I need to finish that...), we got news that my mother in law was failing.  We had known that she had been diagnosed with a rare disease - Amyloidosis.  What we didn't know was how quickly it would progress.  What we also didn't know was that Jarrad's company was going to sell his division and that there would be changes in how vacation was doled out.  In short, he had to fight and go above his superior's head in order to get the vacation time that he had put in for long before there was even a hint of a buy out. But that also meant that he went "in the hole" for 3 months. Which meant that he had no vacation time to use to go and see his mom.  I am giving you the short version and it was not pretty.  Why do we have to fight for the "privilege" of being with our families?  You ever see that commercial where the kids are asking for one more day?  It isn't that parents don't want to take one more day, it is because they aren't ALLOWED to!
     But, I am getting off topic.  And if I seem frustrated - I am!

     However, because of the buy out, there was restructuring - yeah! - and Jarrad has a new boss.  This one is a bit more compassionate and seems to have common sense.  This one found out what was going on and said that he was ok if Jarrad did his work in the car or after "normal" business hours (and since they have clients on the west coast, well, normal has a broad definition).  Because of that, we were able to traverse 7 states, 32 driving hours and 10 days in order for Jarrad to see his mom and say good bye.  We combined it with a trip for a family reunion on my side since it would save us a whole 2 hours to leave from PA.
     Huh, that means that it was 36 hours of driving...
     We tried to turn it into a road trip of sorts.  We would drive for about 3 or 4 hours, stop at a museum for an hour or 2 and drive a couple of more hours to a hotel.  Jarrad would stretch out, find and order dinner and the kids and I would unpack.  Get up the next morning and repeat.
     We are now Hilton Honors "Blue" Members!  Only 14 more stays and we upgrade to "Silver".
     Whoo hoo! 
     What did we learn?
     1.  That I need to evaluate my packing system that has worked for the past 4 years because the kids are getting older and can help.
     2.  That road trips aren't as bad as I was dreading if they are broken into chunks.
     3.  That I love my bed.
     4.  That people be crazy when they be driving!
     5.  That I miss my bed.
     6.  That there are some really cool places to stop and visit on the way.
     7.  That we are "cool" Auntie and Uncle.
     8.  I really, really love my bed!
     We tried to be upbeat?  adventurous? about the trip.  Hence the stops to sight see.  But the point of the trip was for Jarrad got to spend time with his mom.  It was hard to see her.  She was tiny to begin with and now, she is smaller still.  Hospice has told my sister in law that the body knows how to die.  There is even a pamphlet.  We know about the cycles of grief and that the cycles don't go in order nor do they end.  We have all this knowledge but the reality is something different.  It comes in waves and sometimes, it leaves a whale on the beach. 

just a bit upset.

    Yesterday, I posted an article on my Facebook page about the movie Me Before You.  It is a big deal in my community.  You know - spouses and SO's of wheelers.  It is big because it is about a guy in a wheelchair and he decides his life is not worth living.  It is being touted as a romance with descriptors such as: 

"Young and quirky Louisa "Lou" Clark (Emilia Clarke) moves from one job 

 to the next to help her family make ends meet. Her cheerful attitude is put

 to the test when she becomes a caregiver for Will Traynor (Sam Claflin),

 a wealthy young banker left paralyzed from an accident two years earlier. 

Will's cynical outlook starts to change when Louisa shows him that life is 

worth living. As their bond deepens, their lives and hearts change in ways

neither one could have imagined."

and

                      "Experience life, laughter, and love in the year's biggest romantic event." 

      These descriptors are rubbish.  

     A couple of friends commented and said that they had no idea what the movie was about other than a romance but after reading the article I shared, they were glad to know.  And then my mom called.  She asked what the movie was about as she had been planning on going to see it.  And I started to cry.  
     No, Nope, Never.  Don't.  Just don't.  
     If you must go see this movie, go right ahead.  Fair warning - don't talk to me about it and don't you dare tell me that it was inspiring or wonderful or whatever crap (and I am being polite here) comment you want to make about it. You have been warned and I have every right to let lose a whole lot of hurt on you.  In fact, here is a preview! 

     First, there is the title.  ME Before you.  Emphasis added.  Just let that sink in for a bit...

 
    Did that make a connection for you about the content of this book? Do you need to think about it some more?
    

      Second, When I was working at the library, this book was checked out a lot.  Not a big fan of romance, I passed it by but then I thought that I should expand my repertoire so that I could be better at my job so I picked the popular book up and causally asked my co worker if she had read it.  To  which she said that if I did not put it down right now, she would smack it out of my hand and I was not to read that book.  Or something to that effect.  Since I didn't want to upset her, I put it away and waited till she went home to check it out.  I started to read it and understood what she meant. 

  
       BECAUSE it is NOT a love story.  He commits suicide!  He doesn't choose to "live boldly, live well, just live".  He "loves" her sooo much that he is kills himself so he won't be a "burden" to her.  This is a book about suicide. About how this wealthy quadriplegic cannot see how he can have anything to offer - to Louisa, his family or the world in general. 
     I think that I have some strong emotions about this book and movie.  Especially when compared to the Christopher Reeve book Still Me.  It has been a couple of years since I read Still Me  but the the title comes from a time in Christopher's life after his accident where he discussed with Dana how he was going to be a burden to her and maybe he should just die. She told him that he was still him and the person that she loved.  And he realized that she loved him - not his body and he still had a lot to offer.  He chose to live.  Boldly and well.
     I think that I have strong emotions about this book and movie because I would be lying to you if this topic of "it would be better if..." was not discussed in some form or fashion in every wheeler house.  It was discussed in ours.  And crushed and never brought up again.  
    Because a true love story is one where you get up every morning and go to work.  A love story is about living because to do otherwise would crush the very ones you profess to love (And now is where you contemplate the title again).  
    There are some critics who say that my community has no right to get in a twist about a fictional account.  The thing is, to us, it is not fiction.  It is real and to have our choice to live boldly and well and to just live portrayed as the lesser choice is insulting.  We live it; we know. If you don't know what it is to live this life, you do not get to "romanticize" it.  
     
 

the day before

     Last week, Sam turned 7.
    "Hey Buddy, last night you went to sleep as a 6 year old.  Tonight, you go to sleep as a 7 year old!  Will you wake up as an 8?"
    "No, Mommy, I think I will sleep till 9."
    The kids like for us to play the "__ years ago at this time" game.  It is a way to tell stories about them and they love stories.  It is a way to remember what happened.  The good - got a little boy; the bad - he drives me crazy some days; the ugly - it was a very rough delivery. Very.
    Sam's birthday is always fun.  He just loves presents but for us, it is a bit hard.  You see, 4 years ago, we went to the zoo for his birthday and then a week later, Jarrad fell and was paralyzed.  4 years ago today, my husband was at work and he was walking.  4 years ago tomorrow, at 2:30, I will be calling for an ambulance to come.  4 years ago tomorrow, our lives will change forever.
    Sam snuggled with Jarrad on his birthday and told him that sometimes he is sad.  He is sad because daddy can't walk.  He doesn't show it a lot but I know it bothers him.  It bothers Emma. It bothers me.  Jarrad hugged him and said that it made him sad too.  What else can you do but to validate feelings? 
    I think every year gets a bit easier.  This year, I didn't start the emotional game until today.  I think that is progress.  But I know that every year, May 19th is going to hurt.  It is going to hurt a lot.  No matter what I do or what I try, this day will always be hard.