Dreaming of Cheesecakes

 Yesterday was Thanksgiving. Our Thanksgiving's have always been filled with time spent at my sister's house and Dave & Shila's house. It was that way before Jen passed away and it has remained that way. This was the third year without Jen and the second one with Missy. For those of you noticing, the sentence above is a disaster. Break it down; I noted both women together in a sentence, I have placed Jen's name first which could be construed as to how I see these women (first and second), I took the route of a pessimist instead of an optimist by starting "without Jen" instead of "with Missy", and now since I have over analyzed one small sentence I might be crazy or a freak. Truth be told this is how many of my days play out. I spend time analyzing what was said or not said, what actions there were or were not, the feelings that were had or the lack of them. At the center of all of this are two women, one alive and supportive while the other one is dead and also supportive. It is quite a situation. 

    For Thanksgiving, Jen would bake pumpkin cheese cakes shaped as mini pumpkins to take to both houses that we were visiting. After she passed away I feel it has become my duty to make sure that the cheese cakes make it with us to each location, and in all honesty I enjoy making them. This year was no different. I had Trevor and Dylan help me this year which was a nice change from the past years. The boys and I acted silly and goofed off the whole time which brought a fantastic feeling to the whole experience. Each boy cracked eggs and added sugar or all spice. They stirred mixtures and added giggles. They turned on the big mixer and licked up crumbs. When I would raise the whisk out of the bowl to add another egg they would swipe their finger under it to catch a taste of our delicious product. It was perfect. 

At my sister's house she smiled and shot me a look when we came in with the cheese cakes. While eating them later she spoke of how the cheese cakes were tasty and we briefly spoke of how they were Jen's recipe. It was nice and respectful. 

At Dave and Shila's the cheese cakes were put in the fridge to keep cool. I wondered if it was to move them out of sight, but I don't think that was the case at all. After dinner we pulled them out and they sat on the table while the kids were given ice cream. After the kids were set, the grownups sat down and enjoyed the cheese cakes. Everyone seemed to like them. There wasn't any discussion about them being Jen's recipe.

In the car during our travels from house to house Missy said, "Thank you for making the cheese cakes." After saying you're welcome and thinking about it for a second I asked her why she was thankful for that? She said, "because of the meaning behind them, what they stand for and for Jen." I have always felt Missy understands the importance of Jen in our lives. I marvel at how well she manages it all. 

Earlier in the day I had left a message on Jen's Facebook page which I had asked Missy to read. She said it was very sweet. I got the feeling it had hurt Missy, so I asked. She expressed a profound feeling that I had not thought of. She expressed to me that it felt like I was being unfaithful to both her and Jen. A notion that could be looked at as ludicrous, because one woman is alive and the other one is dead. Yet when you look at the situation it makes great sense. I can relate and understand how someone could be unhealthy in the way they cling onto a loved one who has passed. To fantasize about that lost love and the want to restore it, is a normal process in losing someone I believe. It takes time for the reality to sink in that they will not be coming back, that you will not see them in the "human form" here on earth. You may experience them as a spirit, or a vision, or in your dreams, however you will not be able to return to how it once was prior to before them passing. I would say I have a good grasp on this aspect. Sure I'm bias, I'm talking about myself but I truly feel I do well in this area. What I didn't realize is that my level of "well" might hurt others around me. In the beginning, after Jen passed, I was more aware of this and now that I have found love again I feel I have not put as much thought into it. Selfish of me yes, but I felt for good reason. To hear the woman you love say it feels like I'm being unfaithful caused me to think about it. While I thought about it and apologized for it, she told me it was okay. She said she understood and that she felt it was respectful, it just hurt. For a woman who has chosen to be part of our lives, who has chosen to be uncomfortable with me, who has chosen to endure the looks and the pointing of fingers and the words from family that say, "I disagree with your life, your choices and I want nothing to do with you" or "My family will not be introduced to them", I think she is amazing. I am thankful for Missy and everything she is to us. I know I don't make it easy. 

    I find life to be fascinating and at times I might read into it too much. Following the heels of our Thanksgiving I felt a slight distance from Missy this morning. I had woken at about six am to let the dogs out and when I climbed back into bed I snuggled next to Missy and gave her a little kiss on the shoulder. She was awake but kind of distant. After asking her if she was okay and not getting a good feeling that she was I asked if she had a bad dream. She said, "It wasn't bad, but it didn't feel good either." After prodding her for the details she said she had a dream of Jen and I being intimate. In my mind I believe this was caused by a spillover from the day before and I found myself sorry and upset that I had hurt her. I feel dreams are not exactly controllable but that if we pay attention to them there are some good lessons to be learned. We spoke about it for a little while and I could feel the distance between us fade away. It wasn't long before we were both back off to dream land.

This time I had a dream. In the dream, Missy and I were in the living room of a house, there were a group of Missy's friends and a group of Jen's friends. While we were sitting there a friend of Missy's was holding our house phone and she said, "It’s time to change the voice-mail greeting. It should be something about the kids. It should be about your group that you are creating with the kids." Missy replied with “No” it’s Jen's voice on the machine. After another push by this friend it gets expressed how that might be difficult to let go of. A husband of one of Jen’s friends chimes in and says this is just like what I do at work; how I help people deal with difficult things. At this point I lash out at him expressing my thoughts and feelings that his line of business has nothing to do with this and that he has no understanding of the situation. I follow it up with letting him know we don't need to make this situation about him and that he should keep quiet. The woman who originally brought the subject up tries again and I snap at her yelling, "But it’s the only thing I have to hear her voice on." In the dream I am crying and angry at this point. I try to catch my breath and I mutter, "It’s nice to hear her every now and then." I turn and glance at Missy. She looks at me with a look that tells me she feels betrayed, like I just cheated on her. I stand staring at her eyes and while crying I say, "But I love you." She stands, says "I know", gathers her things and then leaves out the front door. As I stand there wondering what just happened our friends try to give me advice. 

I watched Missy walk pass the window and down the street, her friends followed and then most everyone else left too. A few of Jen's friends lingered around to give me some advice. I find myself searching for space to be alone. I leave the house and head out to find Missy. As I search for her I find myself in the elevator of a high-rise building headed up. I have left my cell phone behind but I have the house phone. This is the phone that represents the voice-mail greeting with Jen’s voice. I try calling Missy and I have a hard time remembering her number. I miss dial the first 2 times. The next time I enter in the right numbers. As I’m in the elevator I look around. I notice I'm standing there with two older women who both start moving to a single corner causing a large distance between us, they are uneasy and unsure of me. I get the sensation that they are mad at me, or upset with me. They are not supporting me, which I am sure of. Someone answers and the voice on the other end of the phone is my sister. She acts like it’s a call center saying, "Thank you for calling Missy she’ll be right with you." As I wait my sister then says, "This has been a very important day in your life it’s time to wake up and support Missy." The elevator is now clicking away as it rises. I get a sick feeling in my gut and I think to myself, am I getting set up? The entire event starting with the statement from Missy's friend, to the older women in the elevator, to my sister and even Missy's response to her friend feels contrived. Missy voice is now on the phone and says, "now that you have gotten all of that out." I stop her and say, "Is this a set up?" She says you have been holding this stuff in for so long, you need to let it out. At this point I arrive to the twenty-fourth floor and after the elevator dings I’m standing in the elevator with a large green platter. There are raised letters on the platter and as I come out of my confusion I see it’s a message. The top line reads, "This is not a set up, the feelings you just had were real." The next section reads, "Even though the manner in which the feelings and information were extracted were that of an elaborate plan, it is all true. You needed to release these feelings and therefore your loved ones all played a role in getting that accomplished." It was a wicked scheme just like in the move "The Game" starring Michael Douglas and Sean Penn.

I woke in a panic. I woke scared that Missy would not be there; that I had ran her off. I was afraid that I disrespected Jen in some way. I was afraid both groups of friends would not support both Missy and Jen. It has been a struggle of mine for some time now. I have yet to find the balance or the answer, and I'm not sure if there is one. I can picture it in my mind. I can see the merger of the two lives; one with Missy full of life and love always in the moment, and I can see the other with Jen never forgetting where I came from and always thankful for her helping shape who I am. 

Maybe the dream is to help me see Missy's side more. Maybe it is to help me be more understanding to the feelings involved in our lives. Maybe it's for me to be open to our friends and their suggestions. Maybe it's to be more supportive of the difficulties of our family and friends who struggle with the loss of Jen and therefore my dating Missy. Maybe it is Jen sending me a vivid message that it's ok to focus more on Missy and to let go just a little. Maybe it's my subconscious trying to kick myself in the ass. And maybe it's just another dream where I need to remember to stick to my roots; I love life, I love my life and I am optimistic on what it will continue to bring me and those around me!

Gabby Girl is 10!

I can’t believe ten years has gone by since I first saw, heard, smelled and loved my daughter. I always get so emotional around Birthdays.  And this was no different.

In the days leading up to birthdays, I always find myself reliving “what I was doing however many years ago”.  Was I at the hospital? Had I started pushing? We count down to the time each child was born to make it official.

And then with Gabby’s, I relieve the events after her birth. The room filling with doctors, The Doctor telling me she had Down syndrome, and his offer of putting her in an institution. It truly felt like an out of body experience. Like I was seeing it all happen from afar, yet it was painfully happening so close. I remember my dear friends Melinda Lewis and Cindy Abercrombie showing up, well after visiting hours – daring the nurses to try and kick them out, to comfort me and support me. It was then that when they looked into my eyes and said, “You can do this”, that I knew I could. We spent four long days in the hospital. I could not wait to get my beautiful daughter home.

Once home, everything was surreal with Gabby. I was so in love with this amazing person. She slept cuddled in my arms, on our sides, facing each other, nose to nose. I wanted to breath her in. We spent many, many hours on the couch, feeding. I loved waking up early with her, only to take a long morning nap with her. She was mesmerizing.

And she still is. There is something so real, so honest, so true about Gabby. I think she loves people they way they are meant to be loved, without judgment. Her emotions are real and she’s wonderfully honest. She is selfless, getting more excited for others than herself. She’s such a hard worker, working harder than any of her friends to do the same thing they do, and all while smiling. 

She taught me everything I know about being a mother - how to love my children unconditionally and to cherish every unique, different, quirky, crazy, lovely thing about each of them. How to really live by the belief that everyone is different - and that is great and wonderful.

Gabby, sweathearted and loving

Lucy,  emotional and sensitive

Dylan, protective and loyal

Trevor, intuitive and sensitive

Cody, fearless and funny

Evey, silly and....is "princess -like" a word?

I am so beyond words lucky that Gabby chose me to me her mother. I am eternally gratefully for all that she has taught me about life and love. She is my biggest inspiration. 

Happy Birthday our Beautiful Gabby Girl! 

Gabby is in love with the color purple, because it is Justin Bieber's favorite color. 

Thank you Auntie Wendy for the beautiful cake. 

Her Justin Bieber Barbie. It sings.

Dylan and Lucy showing Gabby the "Justin Bieber stage",  complete with a Justin and Gabby lego person, that they made for her. 

Love

You're Thankful for WHAT??

   Missy expressed that she would like to do a "Giving Thanks" tree in the house for Thanksgiving this year. She said she has always wanted to do one, so this year sounded like a great time to start. We went to a local arts and crafts store to buy foam leafs that can be written on. The idea is that we write the things that we are thankful for on the leaves and then we put them on our tree. The tree consists of a trunk that has been drawn on a large piece of paper and taped to the closet door, and then the leaves are placed on and around the tree. The leaves are in fall colors: red, yellow, orange and brown. For the little ones who are unable to write words, Missy and I will do it for them. For the other kids they can write their own.

We started the tree a little late, so on the first day we had each child write (or tell us) something they are thankful for on two different leaves. Cody's leaves were that he was thankful for a summer trip to Lake Tahoe with Grandma Betty and Papa and also a Charlie Brown Thanksgiving. We had recently watch the movie where the kids found the fighting chair scene with Snoopy to be unmatched in the area of humor. They have even been trying to reenact parts of it, resulting in the shutting down of their production quickly. Evey said she was thankful for every colored leaf we had. After much time and a bit of coaching she finally resorted to saying Rubber Ducky and Cody. Her ducky we understand, but her response of Cody was either forced or calculated to take our attention off of a massive attack that she is plotting against him. Trevor said he was thankful for the fish we have in our fish tank, as well as responsibility. He's full of it and just trying to suck up I think. Lucy said she was thankful for our trip to Disneyland at the end of last year and her mommy and I. I will brag for a moment cause she actually said my name first then she said her mommy. Gabby decided to be thankful of hearts as well as her mommy and I. I'm not going to try to gloat on this one because Gabby actually said, "mommy...oh and Andy too." I'm still working through the acceptance of that one.

Then there's Dylan. Mr. analytical on topics of life and thankfulness. I must preface that his answer was given at a time where the week before, his school had just completed "Red Ribbon Week." So when I asked him what he was thankful for he thought quietly for a moment before answering: "That the president said no to drugs." Now I'm not an extremist, I'm not a far left or far right, hell I'm not even a fan of the two party system cause they both seem the same in so many ways. At times I might be considered anti government and at others I might agree with what the government is doing. It depends on the issue and the fact of right versus wrong in most cases for me. Now I'm not here to spout my views on politics (at least not yet), I'm not here to say that I'm perfect, that I don't lie cause I do and I'm not here to bad mouth the establishment or the people sitting on both sides of the congressional aisle. However, I'm not planing on political falsehoods taking over the minds of our children. I'm a realist and after going through the process of being honest and real to the boys about the death of their mother I have vowed to always tell it like it is. Sure I'll sugar coat some things and I will try hard to protect the kids and their innocence, but I want to be honest with them. I started off by asking Dylan what he meant by his statement, maybe he was saying how the president has tried to get tougher on drug issues saying that his administration hopes to reduce youth drug use by 15%. But then Dylan said, "no, for him saying no to drugs." I laughed out loud and leaned in so that I could get Dylan's attention while I spoke to him. I tried to have a straight face as I said, "but Dylan sweetheart, he didn't say no. He admitted to using drugs." Dylan's face ran stoic, he was not in pain but he was trying to process and recover without getting upset. He sat there quiet for a moment before I said, "I'm sorry Dylan, I don't want you to write something that you regret later because it wasn't true even though someone told you it was." Dylan then followed it up with, "well I'm thankful that the president is protecting us and not going to war." I slapped my hand to my forehead and let out a quick, "wow!" Dylan looked at me with a questioning look. Again I leaned in and said, "But Dylan he did get us involved in a war." I wasn't going to go into the current two wars we were fighting that are credited to W. I explained, "Dylan, the president had agreed for our military to be involved in a war in another country, Libya, and that he did not get congressional approval like the law says he should." I didn't see it important to explain the sixty day rule that was noted in the War Powers Resolution, or the thirty day extension to withdraw the military. Nor did I explain the meaning of semantics when the reason why the president did not need congressional approval was because, “U.S. operations do not involve sustained fighting or active exchanges of fire with hostile forces, nor do they involve U.S. ground troops.” I bit my tongue when I wanted to say that using manned and unmanned aircraft to drop bombs on another country is no longerconsidered an act of war. So I politely said, "Dylan maybe you should word it slightly different." He ran through what he was trying to say and it all came back to the president. Finally I asked, "Dylan what is it about the president that has you wanting to give thanks to him?" He replied, "I don't know, I like the president, I want to write president." It dawned on me that he just in fact might like the word since he feels comfortable writing it. We don't watch much television and we never watch the news, so I'm hard pressed to think he has a deep knowledge of Obama. So he ended up writing that he was thankful for the president making good decisions and saying no to bad stuff. Dylan's second thing he was thankful for was the army. I support that one.

I know some people reading this post might be a little bent by what I wrote. It hurts to have someone say the person they voted for isn't acting in the best manorfor our country and it's laws. And I'm sure there are a few people muttering, "yeah but Bush was worse." I would agree in some areas on that. Truth be told I didn't vote for either of those men. And for those that will question the information, please check out the links below.

Maybe I'm wrong for telling our kids the truth about this one. Maybe I should have tried to shield Dylan from the realities of life. Maybe I made a bad decision. Maybe he just wanted to write the word "president" and I took it to far. Or maybe I didn't.

ARS-

MSNBC article on drug use

Video of him saying he did drugs

Washington Post article explaining why congressional approval was not needed for Libya

NY Times article explaining why congressional approval was not needed for Libya

How Do You Do It

So, the question I get often is, “How do you do it?” How do I organize six kid's schedules, meals, and activities and stay so organized? The truth is, I really don't feel organized. Truth be told, I have a hard time remembering that on Tuesdays and and Thursdays Andy takes Cody and Trevor to school, so Dylan comes with me to take Gabby and Lucy and then I head back to Roseville to take Dylan to school. How many times am I going to schedule a work meeting in Sacramento (thinking I'll be out that way after I take the girls to school) only to reschedule becasue I forgot I have to come back to Roseville??? 

The good thing is both Andy and I are pretty darn picky, compulsive and crazy about staying on top of laundry, dishes, and cleaning, so that part is easy. We keep Clorox wipes in just about every room… kitchen, both bathrooms, laundry room etc. so we can easily do a quick wipe down of anything. The same goes with DREFT laundry spray… it is in both bathrooms and laundry room to make sure every clothing item gets sprayed before it hits the wash. We do at least one load of laundry a day to stay on top of it, getting it in the wash before anyone leaves for school and it is usually folded and put away before noon.  I have to give Andy all the credit for this. I maybe fold laundry twice a week.

I have been obsessed with our online calendar lately. We have an online calendar for the girl’s schedule that we share with Jorge. Andy has his, I have mine and we have one joint one, Andy and I have access to all of them.  Then, at the beginning of the month, I update our dry erase calendar in the kitchen. And it’s color-coded. No Joke.  The girl's schedule is in purple (school activities and their schedule with us and Jorge). The boy’s school schedule is in blue. My work schedule is in green, and family activities are in brown. Its crazy and I am compulsive about it, I completely admit it.

Everyday we set out that nights PJ’s and the next day’s clothes.  We also prep each child’s cup, the four younger ones like juice in the morning, Lucy likes milk with Ovaltine and Gabs likes just milk. After their one cup, they get water the rest of the day.

I also try to plan out our meals for the week. Along with breakfast items. I then plan out on what days I need to do something in advance… like make muffins for tomorrows breakfast.  Or, these past two weeks, I have been making all muffins on Sunday morning (to cut back on clean up) and then freezing some for later in the week.

Going off that menu, I set aside some time on Sunday morning to see what I can prep ahead of time. For instance this week I am making a chicken sausage and apple casserole dish. So, on Sunday morning I diced the carrots, celery, and onion and cut up the sausage. I placed them all in Ziploc bags along with the apple I will need. I could of even measured out the dry ingredients for the biscuits if I thought about it. On Wednesday we are having soup.  Again, I diced the onions, carrots, and celery and put the sausage all in Ziploc bags. So Wednesday morning I will dump everything into a crock-pot.

For lunches, I pre-packed the snack items, crackers; pretzels and a sweet treat in Ziploc bags and put into a storage container in the pantry. I also make all the sandwiches for the week and put into a storage container and then in the fridge.  In the mornings, I line up lunchboxes, water bottles and grab what I need for each one and have them packed in under 5 minutes.

We also have some other tricks that keep us running smoothly and our children helping out!

We have a large calendar in the hallway and Cody’s school days are in blue since he asks NON STOP “Do I have school when I wake up?” We have a white board, and on the one side we have “MORNING DUTIES” where I have everything they need to do in the morning from wake up to leaving for school: eat, brush teeth, get dressed, make beds, brush hair, get lunches and backpacks out. (Yes, they are responsible for making sure their lunches gets in their backpack).

 

On the other side are their chores. Right now each child has ONE chore a day and it rotates each week. They are: feed dogs in the morning, feed the dogs at night, get the cups out of the fridge each morning, trash in bathrooms, help with dog poop (this is everyone’s favorite chore to talk about), and to help set the table at night. They all know their chores and usually once everyone is up from naps, we make sure they get done for the day. We do not give an allowance for this. We feel this is something they need to do to help our family run smoothly.

And last but not least…. The biggest trick we have is every night, after the kids are tucked quietly into bed, Andy and I grab a drink… usually milk and Baileys (cuz we're hardcore like that) and either sit on the couch or our bathroom floor and talk about the day. We talk about what worked, what didn’t work and what we can do better tomorrow. I think we wake up thinking and hoping that today will be the best day ever, but knowing we will fumble and make mistakes along the way, but it’s important to learn from them, so tomorrow can be even better.

Just a Lazy Sunday

    Our weekends are normal - not filled with t-ball or soccer games unless we are going to go watch my niece or nephew play. Our kids enjoy sports but none of them have had an undying love to join the organized sporting world. It's a chilly, rainy morning so it's a perfect pajama day if you ask me. Normally on these kinds of days we will find the kids doing a multitude of things like puzzles, Lego's, board games, reading books, chasing the dogs, playing dress up, and on the more rare occasion watch TV.

    While Missy baked in the kitchen I took to the couch. Although my figure might say differently, I rarely watch TV. In a given week I might find myself watching TV a total of two to three hours a week. Today I decided to watch a riveting forty-five minutes of Auction Hunters. I found myself on the couch shrouded by Dylan, Gabby, the dogs and Evey when she needed a fix of tormenting the dogs by "petting" them. Cody and Trevor were playing in their room and Lucy was in hers. With six kids in the house we welcome the chance for individual and group play. 

    As the final numbers were coming in on how much money was made by selling a gun, some robots and a lot of useless crap, Cody walked up to me with his finger in his mouth. He had left a Lego space ship on the couch next to me while Dylanlaid over the top of me and Toby snuggled behind me. I thought he was back toretrieve it and then back to the room of noise and destruction, also referred to as the boys room. As he grabbed his spaceship I noticed a wet spot on his pajama shirt. I focused a bit more on it and noticed it wasn't water. At this time he pulled his finger from his mouth and stood there staring at the tip of his finger. It had a slight red color to it. He licked it off and shoved it back in his mouth. I noticed it was in an odd location however. It's not often a child who tries to brush his teeth at mock ten to avoid the brush from touching his gums will shove a finger between his lips and gums. This behavior caught my eye and was warranted for a closer look. I asked Cody if he was alright which he responded with, "yes" as he looked at the tip of his finger again. He then held it out to show me and said, "I think it red." 

    I grabbed him and pulled him closer to try to get a closer look. I asked him to open up so I could see in and he just smiled. The red teeth that peeked out from behind those soft cute lips was enough for me to ask Dylan to climb off of me for a second. I moved closer to Cody and told him to relax his jaw so I could see better. Apparently that means close your mouth and try to get away. Missy threw a paper towel my way and I shoved it inside to see how much blood I could soak up. As a doctor, all-be-it not a real doctor in some peoples mind, I don't waist time withgentle antics. So I grabbed his lip, pulled it away from his face and jammed that towel up in there. He didn't make a noise, he didn't even try to escape. When I pulled the towel out it was red with blood and had a good amount on it. I tried to ask Cody what happened and all he could do was smile and say I don't know. He was wiggling his lower body and acting like he was hiding something. I pressed him again and I got the same thing. I called for Trevor so that I could interrogatehim next. If Cody wasn't talking Trevor surely will. I asked Trev what happened and he told of a story where there were fights and battles between good and evil withing their bedroom and it was all played out with Lego's. He said he shot his Lego's at Cody and hit him, but that it wasn't in the face. I asked to see this new weapon of mass destruction and he quickly ran to get it. Upon inspection and a quick demonstration it was obvious even to a non trained eye that this was not the cause of the blood. In reality this weapon would be hard press to injure a spider if it had a direct hit on it. Each boy agreed that nothing other than the Lego weapon had been used. Cody tried to say that it was Trevor's Lego weapon that hit him and caused the blood yet Trevor responded with, "It hit him in his back." Unless we are currently in Dallas driving down Elm street in a convertible limousine I am incline to say the magic bullet is a farce, and even then I would still call bull shit. 

    I decided to take Cody into the kitchen where the light is a bit better to inspect the full damage. I sat him on the counter, tilted his head back, opened him mouth and pulled up his lip. I must say I was surprised to see the beginnings of the grand canyon within the upper gum of Cody's mouth. It was not a cut that caught me bysurprise but I did get my attention. When I called Missy over to take a look, she quickly turned away with a disgusted look on her face and said, "A warning would have been nice." Staying true to the rules and actions of the house she grabbed the camera to get a close up. We enjoy documenting our ups and downs in our house so that they might be used as a teaching aid later on to ward off a repeat incident. 

    The thing that gets me is that I never once heard him cry or get upset. I never heard a thud to signal an injury. I never heard Trevor say, "I'm sorry, don't tell Daddy." It was as if Cody got punched in the face for a wrong doing and he took it like a man. He didn't even pull away as I shoved an ice pack between his lip and gum and held it there for several minutes, and then repeated that two more times. I must say I was very proud of him and scared by him all in the same. I think I will keep an eye out for him, he's borderline crazy!!!!!!!!

Our Halloween

    Ever since Jen passed away the holidays, are at best, hard to maneuver through. Maybe it's my own B.S. that I bring to the table but it never feels comfortable during any holiday, and Halloween is no different. It really sucks because I love Halloween. I'm a big fan of cold weather, well cold for this part of the world at least. Our area rarely gets bellow the low 20's during the middle of winter so I welcome the 40 and 30 degree weather. Once Fall comes around we normally start to get slightly cooler temperatures and the leaves start to change. A stark contrast from when I lived in Dallas, Texas. Fall there started in November sometime and lasted about six days. The leaves tried to change colors but there would be a freeze around that sixth day and everything just died and fell off the trees. It ranged in the 50's to the single digits for the next three months and then a week of Spring would hit before the horrid Texas Summer took over. But here Fall starts around Halloween and it progresses towards winter in a slow to moderate fashion most of the times. I also enjoy the fun of Halloween including the costumes, the parties and the family activities. I just wish it wasn't so blah sometimes.

    This was the third Halloween without Jen and the second one with Missy. I have realized a few things as a widow; one being that the first year of something new is normally a numbing experience and the second year is a hard one. I had experienced two anniversaries as a widow before dating Missy. The first one was less than two months after Jen passed away and everyone was just numb about it. The second one people wanted to remember and try to even celebrate it with me. It was an uncomfortable day that proved to be a lot harder emotionally then the year prior. I found myself waiting for the time to pass so that I could be home alone with the boys snuggled in my bed. This Halloween was the second one with Missy in our lives and it kept my theory alive. Last year went good if you ask me. Missy told me she felt comfortable and at ease with the evening and I felt the same. This years was slightly different. I always find myself working up the scenario because of my own insecurities. I think, "are the trick-or-treater's going to avoid the house because we're the people who's wife and mother died?" I wonder, "are the kids going to have a break down cause they miss mommy while we stand at a neighbor's doorway waiting for treats?" I get nervous thinking, "is tonight the night when I'm going to think I see Jen and not know how to handle it?" It's all crazy stuff right? But it's all happened before in the past. The setting has been different for each one of those scenarios but they all have happened. 

    This year we invited the usual family members and a few neighbors that we know and who the kids are friends with. One of the neighbors, Carrie is part of the mom's group Jen belong to. I'm close to all the ladies of the mom's group and I have seen the difficulties of the loss of Jen in their lives, along with the difficulties of me dating. I have a lot of respect for the women from the mom's group and I don't want to hurt them more by dating in front of them. This is one of the hardest part of our lives. How do I support and grow with Missy when I'm almost afraid to do it in front of the friends who knew Jen. It's hard to do, and I know I don't do it right. If I don't support Missy then I feel like I could push her away. No one wants to be in their own home and not be supported by their partner. On the flip side, if I don't support "Jen's side" then I feel like I am betraying Jen and therefore the boys, followed by the family and friends involved in that scenario. Most people see this as a no win situation, and all though I can agree I don't want to. I know I can do both even though I will fail at trying along the way. I feel like I can love, grow and support Missy and our relationship while honoring Jen and her memory. The hard part is getting everyone else on board with that. I think it's wrong of me to ask that of them, but I sure as hell hope for it. 

    This year I should have know it would be a little more difficult. A little over a month before Halloween, Missy and I switched out some of the pictures in the house. Missy had gone to my therapist, Angela, without me because she said, she needed to talk to someone about us but away from me. I'm the kind of guy who wants to be the "everything person" in a relationship, so this hurt a bit. I try to be everything to my partner so that they know I'm always here for them, that I'm going to try to help in every way. So when Missy said this, I was a little defensive and upset. After she returned from Angela's I was excited to hear the outcome and to help work on the issue at hand. Missy told me she wasn't ready to talk about it. It took six days before she finally did and it turned out to be a big thing. Missy told me she didn't feel like the house was her home, she felt it was mine and Jen's but not hers. Jen and I had moved into our house two months before she passed away. There were only two things up on the wall at the time of her passing and the garage still had about fifty unopened boxes yet to be taken care of. So for me the house always felt like mine, not ours in relationship to Jen. But for Missy she said she felt like she was cheating with another woman's husband. That was hard to hear and it was the last thing I ever want for Missy to feel. That night we started the process of taking down the appropriate pictures and moving the others to a more perfect location in the house. Some went into the boys room, others went into the hallway and the others came down. It was hard and difficult and sad and exciting and bonding and beautiful and most of all respectful. It became a huge positive in all of our lives. It gave life to the girls in the house as a more permanent fixture with their pictures up. It made us all feel more connected and like a family. It did what it should do and I should have done it about two months sooner. Here's the difficulty, as a widow people are around all the time after your spouse passes. Some good and some bad. Then you start dating and most of those people disappear. It's understandable, but it's sad as well. Because of this fact and several others, not to many people come over to your house anymore. After we changed out the pictures the only people who came over and saw it were my parents and Jen'smom, Shila. So on Halloween when my sister entered the house it was the first time for her to see it. Jen and her were best friends and I knew it would sting to see the changes. My sister has been a huge part of my life and even more so after Jen passed. Since I've been dating Missy, my sister and I are not as close but there are several reasons for that. I asked my sister if she saw the new pictures and asked how she felt about it. She said, "yeah" and told me it was fine. She said the ones in my room were a little harder to manage cause she liked them but it was fine. She and I didn't speak but a sentence or two after that all night long. I felt her avoiding me and avoiding Missy. At one point I had to search the house for Missy, she was hanging out in the kitchen alone and after I pressed about the feeling of avoidance by my sister she started to cry. She said she felt my sister was avoiding her. She said she felt like she didn't belong, like her and her girls should leave. She said the house did not feel like her home anymore. It was a tough spot for her, for all of us.

    It was hard for Shila too. I saw it on her face a few times. Jen and Shila would always get the boys costumes and get them ready. I'm sure Shila feels like she doesn't belong sometimes as well. We try to make sure she is involved and part of all of our lives but it's got to hurt. My sister and Shila talked by themselves a lot. They gave the feeling like they were talking about Jen and felt like they couldn't do it in an open way with everyone else. It adds to the feeling for Missy that she doesn't belong which is understandable. It pisses me off because I keep asking for everyone to talk about Jen when they want to so that we can work through the difficulties together and tell stories to create lasting memories for the boys. I guess my utopia will have to wait for everyone to get to that comfortable place. 

    I know I see things different than everyone else when it comes to the loss of Jen. I miss her yes, but I thank her everyday. I thank her for all that she has given and taught me and shown me. I thank her for the boys and our life. Some people don't get that or understand that. The best way I can describe it is like this; Every minute of every day I miss Jen in some way. My deep mourning and understanding started the moment I got the news that she was never going to come out of her coma and it has never stopped once since then. For family members like Shila, her grief process has been similar to mine in the sense of a time line. For friends of Jen'sthat saw her once a week, their day 6 of mourning is my day 42. For those who saw Jen twice a year their day 2 is my day 365. I will come to terms and understanding and appreciation faster than anyone as long as I'm open to the process. If I'm closed up and shut down and angry at the whole thing I will prolong the process. If that be the case then my day 365 will feel like day 2, and I have too much life and love to allow that to happen. I have three young boys who won't benefit by that and I have a legacy of Jen that won't grow like that. 

    Missy gets it. She gets me, she gets the boys, she gets the bull shit of it and she gets the beauty of it. But mainly she gets Jen and what Jen means to all of us. She's the first to ask a question about her, or tell the boys how much they look like her. She listens to my stories about Jen and at the right times injects them into the boy's lives. It's a hard and shitty spot to be in, the partner of a widow. When you look at it for what it is, a partner of a widow should be praised and held high. They are helping your friend or loved one, your family member to be loved and supported. They hold the widow while they cry and ache because of their loss. They selflessly give into the hurt and anger of the family and friends who lash out at them because they are "taking the place" of their loved one. Word of advice, the loved one who passed away is irreplaceable, don't ever think they can be replaced; and the person now "taking the place" is actually on your side. Maybe then the holidays might be fun again.

    This is one of my best friends, Ben. Every year he dresses up for a costume contest at work, for the county, and he normally wins. This year was no different. Had I have know he was dressing like this I might have made a costume made out of a large foil ball to help complete the look. 

If I step on one more Lego...

     For the past three years our house has been inundated with Lego's. It started with the Duplo Lego's that Dylan played with when he was just turning four. He had a few sets prior to this time but he never really had an interest. Then Grandma bought him the fire fighter set and he's been hooked ever since. The Duplo are the larger Lego's designed for younger ages so that the kids are able to handel them better. What this really means is they are hard to swallow, easy to see and heavy enough to draw some blood when thrown with the unchecked aggression of a two year old. Dylan wasn't much of a thrower of toys but I sure as hell was, and at times still am. Dylan quickly realized the Duplo sets were not as interesting as the regular size sets. I would completely agree with him in this scenario. 

    Once Dylan decided to move on to the regular size Lego's, his brother Trevor became interested. And since mister "I can do whatever my brothers do" Cody was now utilizing his sweet quiet voice to scream at his brothers for not including him in the day's activities, he was now involved as well. The Lego phenomena exploded after Jen passed away. I found myself buying sets from time to time as a way to keep my mind off of lying on the floor in the fetal position crying because I missed her so damn much. It wasn't long before each boy would receive a new Lego set on an almost monthly basis from Jen's parents, Dave and Shila. I don't think anyone would blame us for fixating on something like Lego's as a way to sooth and fill a void left by the death of their mother, but it did get a bit out of hand. 

    Month after Month the kids table in the kitchen grew more and more unmanageable due to the pile of Lego's on top of it. I bought a four drawer plastic storage container that was about three feet tall and we filled it up with all of our Lego's. Soon I had to buy another one. The kitchen was being overrun by Lego's, regular size Lego's. The trade off from the Duplo to the regular size was you needed less storage, however the pieces are much smaller and easily forgotten on the floor. I have found myself screaming obscenities because of the pain felt after stepping on a Lego piece at least fifty times. It became almost a daily ritual in our house. And truth be told I have the most sensitive feet ever. I'm the kind of guy who wears tennis shoes around the inside of the house most of the day because the floor is to hard on them. I know, I should turn in my man card right now. I don't know why they are so sensitive but that is how it has always been, so Lego's in the kitchen that I step on when letting the dogs out one last time before bed really pisses me off. 

    After Missy and the girls moved in, the Lego's went from "that's cute" to "holy hell where are all these Lego's coming from?" I had enough of the disaster zone created by the Lego's, also known as our kitchen nook. After a week long discussion Missy and I both agreed we needed the Lego's in another room. The playroom was first choice but the boys room, the girls room, the garage even the storage shed were all viable options in our minds. We searched on-line and in catalogs for ideas or even purchasable systems that would help minimise the Lego issue. The boys had their own drawer in the Lego containers where they could store their project and the other kids were not allowed to touch it. It worked well except for when Cody was around. I found him multiple times raiding his brothers drawers for pieces only later to lie to them about taking it. That became a whole other issue resulting in early bed times, missed dinners and the utilization of "the wall of shame" for his items. Yet we liked the larger storagble spaces and we were trying hard to find something that would work.

    One day Missy showed me an industrial grade tool separating system. They sell it on-line for a ridiculous amount of money. Sam's Club sells it for cheaper but it's still hundred of dollars and hundred of pounds. Funny enough we both agreed that this option was the best one to date that we had found. About a week later we decided to take the kids to Lowe's with us while we looked around to see if anything struck a cord with us on this venture.  We came up with a system using small storage bins where I would build a shelving system to hold them. I'm not the worst with power tools but I'm no Bob Vila either. At this point we are loading our cart up with about 50 of these small plastic bins. Then we came to the end of the isle and saw our new found joy. We each glance at the item and then at the other person. The look was all we needed to know this was it. It was an eight pack of bright yellow Stanley Tools sorting bins. The bins hang on a plastic piece you screw into the wall. It was perfect.

    We bought all the packs that they had which were five and we bought five large bins that matched the set. It took time to plan out the project. We needed the right space, the right size, the proper materials and equipment. I'm anal so I spent about four days drawing different configurations and ideas before we came up with what we wanted. In addition the amount of Lego's was astronomical which caused some alterations of our initial idea. At first we thought we would do a bin for each shape of each color. Yes you read that correctly. After putting that figure in our head we realized we would need about 950 different bins. That would most likely take up the space of the entire twelve foot wall almost floor to ceiling in the playroom. A bit overzealous. 

    We decided to settled on 117 small bins and 5 big bins with 4 additional bins from Ikea to hold the instruction manuals, odd pieces and mini figures. We were lucky enough to find the bins at Home Depot and we snatched them right up. The construction of the Lego unit took a few days while I had time in between pick up and drop off at school and all the other house hold duties. I worked hard at creating a pleasing piece of furniture in the house, even thought it was holding Lego's.

    After the structure was built and in place the true fun began, sorting. I had no idea of the hell that I was in for when it came to sorting. First we sorted those eight drawers by color. We emptied them into other plastic bins that we had around the house. This process took about two weeks. There were hundreds of thousands of Lego pieces. The fun days where when I was sorting and the kids would ask to help. They found it fun to grab a few pieces from the drawer and then they would try to throw the Lego in the proper colored bin. My most favorite was when Cody took half of the blue Lego's out of the bucket we had sorted them into, built some contraption he called a spaceship and then dismantled it and shoved it back in a different drawer that had yet to be sorted. We found all kinds of things too; other toys, Missy's hair bands, money and even Evey's stuff. We weren't sure if Evey did it on her own or if Cody was hiding it from her. One day I had been sorting for about two hours when Lucy walked over to me after getting home from school and she said, "wow you're still sorting that same bin?" I had been on that bin for three days so far. I immediately stopped sorting and headed straight to the fridge to get a ice cold beer and sit outside in the backyard for some fresh air. 

    After the color sorting was done it was time to move on to shape and size. I started off easy by grabbing a color with only about sixty pieces and putting it in one small yellow bin, then putting it up on the wall. I knocked out about twenty of those the first night. I was thinking this is easy now, smooth sailing here on out. Well I was full of it and I should have know it. Imagine twenty pounds of white Lego's, they don't just fall into four or six small bins and align themselves in an orderly fashion. Truth be told the whites were the last color I did. It took me two days working about two hours each day on it. We ended up with eighteen small bins and one large bin of just white Lego's. All in all the sorting took about four weeks before it was completed. Missy helped with the sorting into colors and she sorted the blue Lego's for us. It was greatly appreciated. That is until I realized the way she sorted those eight bins of blue and the way I sorted the other one hundred and nine were different. So I resorted the blue and finished the project. It was such a task that we both agree the kids should never play with them ever again so that we don't have to sort them ever again. At least we got the kitchen back, the Lego's are out of our immediate line of sight and my feet are feeling much better. On some nights I still walk into the playroom and turn on the light just to marvel at the beauty of those organized Lego's.

A Perfect Day for a Walk

    Each year Missy's non-profit puts on a one mile walk to raise awareness for Down syndrome through her organisation DSIA (Down Syndrome Information Alliance). This year was the second one I was involved with. Last year's walk was at the beginning of our fourth month of courtship and I think I was still kind of wet behind the ears in the world of dating then. Missy had told me she was the organizer of the walk. My naivete led me to believe that this meant she just made a few calls to get the acting board members to fulfill the jobs that were needed for the walk to happen. So for the second or third time in my life I was wrong. It doesn't happen often but every now and then I slip just a little.

        As a side note, we used to use the term E.O.E. (expert on everything) for another family member however I hear it directed at me from time to time now. I might never have had any formal training in either electronics or aeronautics, but by god I'm sure I could command the space shuttle on a rainy day with the loss of the auto pilot while my buddy Ben straps in as my copilot after we both have had a double crown and coke at 7am on a monday morning. 

    Last years walk prove to be a lot more work than I ever thought it would be. Truth be told Missy organized, helped plan, commanded, lead, directed, and damn near did every job imaginable for the walk. One acting board member helped her in the area of registration but that was about it. I was amazed at how much she did and how good it went. Well this years lead up was a bit more. They partnered with a new software company to make it easier and more user friendly, which helped in many areas and hindered in others. They also brought on new board members unsure in the process leaving extra loose ends for Missy to manage. And manage she did. Our house turned into a T-shirt storage center for the registrants who received shirts. UPS was knocking on our door every day at nap time for three weeks it seemed. She would get up at 5am to get two hours of good work in before getting the kids up and starting the household morning routine. She took phone calls from 8am till 9:30pm. She worked an hour or two after the kids went to bed and through-out the day she was either working on the computer, at a meeting, picking up walk items or packing boxes for the event. 

    The morning of the event Missy and I were at the location by 6:45am, even though the walk didn't start till 10am. There was a lot of set up and getting ready to do. Missy was once again in charge and she ran the event flawlessly. There were about eight hundred registered walkers, forty-five volunteers, twenty-five vendor booths, a crew who volunteered time and resources to cook lunch for eight hundred people, a crew who volunteered to collect recyclables, an audio/video company, a band, a kids puppet show, a dance and sing team from a local theater, a local police K9 unit, a local fire department with their fire engine, table and chairs, a one mile walk course marked and barricaded from traffic, day of registration and so many other little things; and Missy did it all. Again the same board member from last year, Lisa helped out a lot and a new one Hillary played a vital role in the rounding up of volunteers, yet it was Missy who put it all together and ran it. The walk is the main fund-raising that DSIA does each year and it sets the years financial goal for what the organization is going to be able to do. This year turned out great. The overall numbers are down just a little bit from last year and I know she's a little upset at herself for that. However, I saw what it took first hand and I watched how hard she worked, so if you ask me she hit a home run. I heard nothing but great things from the participants, where several of them stopped her to expressed how much smoother it went this year as compared to years past. 

    With all the prep and all the hard work it's easy to forget the whole reason for the event. For DSIA the reason is to raise awareness, raise funds and to support other families in the Down syndrome community. For Missy the only reason is Gabby. The weekend of the walk Gabby and Lucy were scheduled to be with us. However, Gabby and Lucy's grandmother on Jorge's (their dad) side was flying in from Florida just for the walk. Missy had agree to switch the weekends with the one stipulation that once the girls got to the walk they were now on "her time". She wanted to share the walk with Gabby and our other five kids and she wanted it to be known. Can you blame her? Hell I can't, I commend her for knowing what she wanted and asking for it. The relationship between Missy and Jorge is really a good one and he completely understood her want and need for the girls to be with her. So they were. 

      

    In the middle of the chaos of running an event like this Missy never skipped a beat with the kids. She held them and walked with them, she fed them and played with them, she talked to them and listened to them. It was just like any other day to be honest. She did an amazing job being there for the kids, for me, for our families, for her friends, for the other families and for every child there with or without Down syndrome.It was a perfect day for a walk!!!!!!!

     I don't know if Gabby understands the effort her mom puts into DSIA in the hopes of helping other families navigate life through the rough waters that might be created due to a diagnosis of Down syndrome. I'm not sure if she realizes how she has impacted her mom's life work to support all families including those who have a child with special needs. I don't know if she will ever comprehend how one tiny little chromosome that stuck around has been the catalyst for the care and support of thousands of people through the words, hugs and tears that her mom has shared with so many. But when I look in her eyes I undoubtedly know she understands the depth of the love and gratitude her mother has for her because of the person she is. She is Gabby, daughter of Missy and that's all that matters to us. 

DSIA website