A Unicorn

March 2017

Most weekday mornings around here consisit of either one of two situations.

Example A) One or both boys are up shortly after 6 am.  There is no reason to be up that early in this house.  They come bouncing into our room as loudly as they can and jump into bed inevidably injuring one of us.  At this point we are awake but they lay there nicely for about 5 minutes.  Boredom sets in so they start poking one of us requesting a phone.  They turn on Nick Jr or some annoying game at full sound.  If the other boy isn't in bed with us yet, at this point he too will come sprinting in to join the party.  We are more alert, so chance of injury decreses as we are able to instinctively protect ourselves as he pole vaults into the bed.  They lay there nicely for another 5 minutes until one gets bored and starts poking the other.  This quickly melts down into a full on wrestleing match...again injury of one parent is inevidable.  Now we are awake and irrtated.  "Ok, adult space! Go to your own rooms if you are going to act like this!"  This phrase is repeated several times until I'm about to loose my mind.  Fuck it, might as well get up and start the day.

Eating breakfast generally goes smoothly but then we melt down into repeated requests to "Change your clothes!"  "Go to the bathroom!"  "Sit down so I can do your hair.....well if your going to bounce around its going to hurt!"  And then comes..."Time to brush teeth."  Something SO simple turns into an epic battle.  Someone is in tears and shouting about who HAS to go first, "No, I went first last time!" or its a fight over who GETS to go first.  Serisouly?! WTF.  I recently decided to make a little game to decide who goes first.  I hide something behind my back and whoever pick the correct hand goes first.  Worked great the first few times but now that has devolved into the second teeth-brusher having a meltdown and accusing me of cheating.  I give up.

Example B)  We have all over slept and it is now 7:35.  By the time I actually get them out of bed, it is 7:41.  Durning these mornings, I am the frazzled one.  Rushing them about.  We have the same arguments and issues as Example A but for the most part they know to just fall in line because mom isn't messing around.  I get everything done with military precision and we get to school 1 minute later than usual.  No big deal but all the rushing around and pushing them out the door leaves me feeling like a real shit.  I am aware that on these days, I have no one to blame but myself.

But every now and then, we have what I like to call a "unicorn" morning.  The term "unicorn" can be applied to more than just "morning".  We can also have "unicorn" meals, all day behavior, trips, etc.  Just like the mythical creature, a "unicorn" is a beautiful, breath taking, and above all, rare site to be held.  It is the occasional "unicorn" day or event that is my reminder to not give up hope in my children or my parenting abilities.

(This photo is an example of a "unicorn day".  There were zero arguments about the outfits, BOTH smiling, and they look freaking adorable!)

This morning they threw me a bone.  There were no, I repeat NO, arguments.  No tears.  No whining.  No rushing.  Everyone was in a great mood and did exactly as they were told.  After drop off, I returned home in an excellent mood and felt like I could take on anything that day.  I reflected.  Tried to figure out what exactly we
had done differently in order to have such a wonderful morning.  I couldn't find an answer.  I decided take a deep breath, enjoy the moment and to just chaulk it up for what it was....a unicorn.

L

Going Home

March 2017

We made an unexpected trip to Denver last week.  A friend and former co-worker of J's was shot and killed by her husband, who then took his own life.  It's one of those things you hear about on the news but would never happen in real life.  Marie was one of the nicest people I have ever met.  She was one of those rare souls in life that could spread happiness and laugher just by walking into a room.  To say her death came as shock and her absence will be felt by many would be an understatement.  So when J asked me to go with him to the funeral in Colorado, I was glad to have the opportunity to pay my respects.

We were gone for less than 72 hours but I was nervous wreck leading up to our departure.  This was only the third time I had left the boys for an extended time and making sure every detail of our daily lives are covered for whomever is caring for them can be stressful.  However, my MIL did an awesome job!  When we got home, everyone was healthy and happy and the house was still standing. Can't ask for anything more.

It was also the first time I had been in Colorado since we left 8 months ago.  Honesty, I didn't know how I would feel being back.

During our first 6 months in IL, I didn't allow myself to even think about Colorado and quiet frankly in the beginining I was so busy I never really had time to reflect on the life we left behind.

But sometime after the new year, I was going through old pictures on my computer and the flood gates opened up.  There was also a period in January where the sun didn't make an appearance for almost 2 weeks and I really started to miss the sunny, mild Colorado winters.  So needless to say, I was afraid if I went back there would be a good chance I may never leave.

As soon as we arrived at DIA, it all came back to me.  The familiar terminal, walking outside into the sunshine and warm spring air.  I didn't feel like an outsider or a visitor, I felt like I had just gotten home.  Driving to J's old office, driving to our old neighborhood for dinner and then down to my in-laws house, was a journey I could have done blindfolded.  Normally, when we travel we are going somewhere new and unfamiliar.  It was a very weird feeling to leave our house and children only to arrive in a place that felt more like home.

Over the next two days, we saw countless former co-workers/friends and I was able to spend sometime with a few of my girlfriends.  Spring had already arrived in Denver.  Our big winter coats were left in the back of the car and my sandles made a reappearence...it was so nice to sit in the sunshine again and talk to smiling, happy people.

Surprisingly, I didn't have any major breakdowns, outside of the funeral, and I willingly got back on the airplane to leave.  After all, our little people were waiting for us! But when we walked through the terminal at Midway, I felt like a visitor.

I know if I spend the next decade in Illinois, it will feel like home.  We will establish relationships and routines, routes and places will become familiar.  I have uprooted my life three times to move somewhere completely new, I know there is definitely an adjustment period and I am in the thick of it.  I WANT to be happy in Illinois.  I WANT to give life here a fair chance.  But I am struggling.  Struggling to "be here now".  Struggling to let go of the past.  Struggling with a longing to go home.

L

Oh boy, oh boy....oh BOY

January 2017

My dad has this saying, "You have one boy, you have a boy.  You have two boys, you have half a boy.  You have three boys, you have no boys at all."

I used to think this saying was funny, now it drives me nuts.  But we are about to figure out if this theory of his is true because Baby V #3 is a BOY.

Early in my pregnancy, I would have sworn this baby was a girl.  I just felt like it was a girl.  There were certain things in the beginning that were or seemed different from the other two.  A bit more hormonal, less hair loss but in retrospect this pregnancy has been pretty similar to the previous ones.  Which, hey, I can't complain because they have all been pretty easy pregnancies.

But I just had this feeling.  Surprise pregnancy...it just had to be a girl.

So when I got the call with the results of my Panorama test at 13 weeks (purpose of this test is to test the baby's genetics and possible chromosomal defects but you can also find out the sex much earlier) and they said "You're having a boy!" I was shocked.

And then I got mad.  Really fucking mad.

I'm not proud of my reaction but that is exactly what it was, a reaction.

I cried.  A lot. I awoke in the middle of the night just sobbing.  I was mad, heartbroken and then mad at myself for feeling that way.

The next day, the anger subsided and I was just sad.  I had to let go the daughter I would never have and all of the things we would never do together.  I had to accept the fact that the mother/daughter relationship is just one that I would never fully understand and I was destined to be a "boy mom."

When I found out Leo was a boy, I was disappointed (and sad and mad) but now, my goodness, I couldn't image not having that boy in my life for a second.  I love my boys.  I wouldn't want it any other way.   And that is what finally got me out of my funk.  I KNOW that there will come a day when I look at this boy and I realize I wouldn't want any other child but him.  He was/is meant to be in my life.

There will probably always be a little bit of sadness in my heart, a longing for that relationship with a daughter but I have learned to let those feelings in and accept them.

I think the only thing that really bothers me and always will is this fear that someday my boys will leave me and never look  back.  Someone once said to us after Leo was born, "Oh, you will have to try for a girl because boys never come home for holidays.  They always go to their wives' families."  Awesome.  Thanks, dick.

After that conversation, I started making Jack promise me that he would come home for Christmas every other year.  He was three at the time.  Future Jack, don't let your mom down.

But there is this piece of me, the nagging voice that makes me look at life realistically and I know, I know when they become men they will find partners to share their life with.  Men whose loyalty and priorities shift towards their partners. As it should be!  But I honestly don't know where that will leave me.  (The third boy is still in my belly, unnamed, and I am sobbing at this realization. I can feel my heart breaking as I write these words because I know someday this will be my reality.)

The fear of losing my boys to their own lives, being left and forgotten after dedicating so much of my lives to them, is why I will always regret not having a daughter.  And I know that having a daughter doesn't necessarily mean that I would be guaranteed to have a close relationship with her,  I just feel that my odds would be better to have someone home for the holidays.

I suppose I can only hope that during the time I have them with me,  I will have cemented a strong enough relationships with each boy and they won't forget their mama.

L

Didn't See That Coming

On November 20, 2016, we found out I was pregnant.  It was, to put it mildly, unexpected.

We had been going back and forth on a third baby since Leo was a baby.  On occasion, I would have a really strong feeling that our family wasn't complete.  Was this chapter in my life closed?  I would never get to experience pregnancy again?  Never again would we watch another one of our babies grow and become their own person?

And then shit would hit the fan with either one or both of the kids we already had and I would say to myself "You're fucking nuts!  You don't need another baby, you can barely handle the two you already have!!!"

This internal battle went on for years.

And then suddenly life became a little easier.

Travel was easier.  We didn't have to pack to so much extra little crap.  They could share a room.  Airplanes were a little less awful.

Leo was almost out of diapers.  Life with no diapers, really?!

Jack was in full time school.  Leo was in half day.  I had 2.5 hours to myself EVERY DAY!

Justin was done.

Every day we inched a little further from our "baby days" and our boys became a little more independent.  Life was still challenging but in a different way.

And then November rolled around.

I had had a little "scare" during our vacation in Tybee over the summer so I just assumed for the first few days it was the same thing.  I was a week late when we left for our vacation to Florida.  J noticed I was a little quiet at the airport and I finally told him.  In my mind, there was NO way I could possibly be pregnant but if I wasn't pregnant then something else was wrong.  Either way, I started to freak out.  So on day 11, I pulled the trigger.

I told J I took a test.  I couldn't look at it myself.  He brought it in to me with a smile and "It's gonna be great!"

Huh?

No way.  There is NO possible way.

But there it was....

Well shit.....didn't see that coming.

L

#illinoisorbust

Fall 2016

Right before we left for our vacation in Savanah, we made a quick stop in Illinois to start looking for houses with my dad.  At the end of the first day, after looking at almost 20 houses, our last stop was a tiny village called Indian Head Park.  I fell in love with the neighborhood as soon as we drove in and when we stopped in front of the house on Thunderbird, I got out of the car and said "This is it."  I was just overwhelmed and frustrated after a long day but I was right, that house turned out to be the one.

It had recently been completely remodeled by an investor and they did an amazing job. I couldn't have asked for anything more.  We put an offer in on it the next day and after a bit of back and forth, it was ours.

When we closed a month later, the movers quickly unloaded the truck and I was left with the task of unpacking once again.  The house was basically brand new and there wasn't anything I needed to change.  But the big downfall was that we needed window treatments throughout the house and all of the closet were just empty spaces, not even a bar to hang clothes up. I began interviewing vendors immediately and window treatments and custom closets were ordered within the first few weeks.

It took a month to get the windows covered and a few more weeks to get the closets done.  You don't realize how much shit you store in a closet until you have to live out of suitcases and boxes for 7 weeks!  It was a very happy day for me when I could finally breakdown the eight wardrobe boxes that lined my bedroom walls.

Our family no longer lived in Colorado but J's job was still there.  Three days after we moved in, he flew back to Colorado for the week to work.  That was the hardest week on me.  I was a so overwhelmed and by the end of the week I locked myself in the bathroom, laid on the floor and cried.  I was alone in a completely unfamiliar place with my two wild boys and a three legged dog that desperately needed surgery for an ACL that tore two weeks before our move.  Having the house in boxes and in utter chaos sent my stress and anxiety over the edge.  And not having J  to offer me some relief and adult interaction at the end of the day made me depleted and depressed.

J's cross country commute went on this way until October.  He was either gone all or part of the week but he was gone every week.  I felt terrible for him.  He wasn't able to start to let go of Colorado because half of his life was still there.  He isn't a man of many words when it comes to his emotions but I do genuially believe it is hard for him to be away from us and by the end of his limbo I think he was worn down and feeling isolated.

I realized during this time how much I rely on J.  I spend a lot of time alone with our boys so I'm always "on" and keeping it together (the best I can) for them but when he is around I don't have to be so in control, I can let go.  I know that I have someone that will be there for ME while I try to keep it together for everyone else.  Our time spent apart during those few months really opened my eyes to this part of our relationship.  And instead of building a wall of resentment as I would have in prior years of our marriage, we kept our lines of communication open.  I know that we still have hard years ahead of us but in this brief time in our story I am proud of us for not falling into bad habits and be able to make it through a stressful blip together.

It felt like as soon as we arrived in Illinois, we didn't stop going until after the holidays.

Jack started Kindergarten in August!  He was SO excited and made the transition effortlessly.

We discovered our neighborhood was a good mix of older couples who had been there 20+ years and raised their families and new, younger families had started to move in to replace the ones who were ready to downsize.  The families we met were all very welcoming and I started a Bunco group for the ladies as a way to start building new friendships.

The first 4-5 months in Illinois absolutely flew by.  Apparently, it was an unseasonably warm fall and we soaked up our new life as much as possible.

Family vacation to Florida over Thanksgiving...more on that later!

And our first Christmas season in Illinois. Opa joined us on the Polar Express to kick off the holiday week.   We did the usual bouncing between the three families but it was nice to not have to fly back for it.  We had our own car and after 3-4 days we were able to head back to our own home to decompress.

Needless to say, we were busy!  I wouldn't allow myself to even think about Colorado during those months. Life was different but not all bad.

Lindsey