Hellwork…oops I mean Homework

What I am about to say might surprise you as a “career educator”.  I HATE homework.  I really effing hate homework.  The struggle in my house is real. 

Picture this…A rainy Tuesday night at 8:00 pm.  We just got home from gymnastics (beginning at 4) and baseball (beginning at 5). Water is boiling on the stove for pasta and leftover gravy is simmering in a pan.  Showers still have to happen and the clock is rapidly ticking away.  The only sound you can hear is my voice yelling at an octave that would make a dog’s ears bleed “Do YOUR GD HOMEWORK!”  JT’s whining, Maddie is stomping her feet, and Maeve, the only one who does not have homework, is happily reading any book she can get her hands on.  Projects are due, it’s the end of the year, and we are all about to have a breakdown.  I turn to Tom, my face red with frustration and yell out, “I HATE homework!”

As a teacher, I feel like I should be a supporter of a rich homework regiment.  I am not. I think that homework sets up an unnecessary battle between parents and kids and leaves kids with a bad taste in their mouth for taking ownership of learning.  I also know that as a teacher, kids who come in with homework that is messy or incomplete are viewed as being from less than “normal or functioning” families.  Being a mom of three, I know that first hand to be completely untrue, but nonetheless, I NEVER want the school to think of me as being an incapable parent.

Believe me, I do think “homework” has its place, but not in the traditional sense.  There are so many rich opportunities for kids to engage in the world around them to learn through hands on experience how the world works.  My kids read EVERY NIGHT.  My kids go on educational “outings”–we do science walks in the woods, we always use our math skills in cooking and baking, we talk go to museums to talk about history and culture, we travel to other cultures, we write stories, we play sports, we interact with people, we learn….

I find it hard to believe that filling non-sensical sentences with vocabulary words is helping my kids to avoid “the slide”.  My kids have always performed well academically even after a long summer break.  On the other hand, I am all too aware that  not all kids have this support at home, but what I also know is that if kids don’t have parents who support their efforts to learn through experience, they certainly are not sitting down to go over a paper of fractions with them.  I can’t even begin to tell you the number of times I would get a note from a parent saying, “I didn’t know how to do this math, so I told little Johnny not to do it”.  POINT PROVEN…….how was that worksheet effective.  Perhaps if Little Johnny and mom made some brownies together using measuring cups, he’d understand through kinesthetic learning how fractions work.

Wouldn’t it make sense for schools to leave time for families to engage in the world around them?  Part of the problem in the United States is that people don’t know their ass from their elbow.  People don’t know how to use the melon between their shoulders to think critically  and outside of the box.  How can a worksheet about clauses help to abate this ever-growing problem???

I, truly, have NO complaints about my children’s school system.  I have said repeatedly that our school is amazing and all of the teachers are rock stars, some of whom I hope to be like someday.  This is in no way an indictment of my school, it is an indictment of the many ills our current education system faces.   Rigor and hard work certainly have their place in school, we most certainly have to up the bar, but I think we definitely have to  explore more unconventional ways of getting our kids to use their brain beside reciting multiplication tables.

I hope the struggle calms down tonight because I really can’t handle another meltdown–my meltdown!  It might get ugly.  Thank GOD my husband has the wherewithal to talk me off the ledge and tell me to go for a run or to a yoga class.  Maybe I’ll just meditate my way through the rest of the school year.  As Maeve reminds me everyday at dinner, “Only 15 more days left of school, mama!”

The War-drobe

Tonight, despite the inhaling of two pastellitos at work, I managed to put on skinny jeans AND zip them WITHOUT a pair of pliers and a quick prayer to God.  I threw on some cute heals and met the girls for a few drinks, but not oh boy, was the people watching rich!  

Let me say, I’m certainly not the fashion police, but I at least look like I own a mirror and use it.  When my fupa feels a little more exposed than normal, you can bet your ass I layer some extra lycra on that shit.  It always amazes me when women think it’s a good look to have your nipples greeting everyone paired with your goddess of the night f@#$ me heels.

Whatever happened to leaving a little to the imagination.  I always thought the best part of building sexual tension is in the thinking about what treasures you’ll find beneath that Nike sweatshirt or nice pair of jeans.  I mean, mystery is sexy, No?

Anywho, ladies,  one of the best investments you could make is a full length mirror. AND USE THE GD thing!  For all that is good and holy, look at it and ask yourself– what’s the look I’m going for?  If the answer isn’t Elvira Mistress of the Night then turn around and change! 

Now understand, I want to look hot, too.  I still get flattered if I get a second look, but I prefer that look to be one of intrigue not horror.  Sexy isn’t more skin, quite the opposite, sexy is in the challenge of seeing whats beneath.  Don’t get me wrong, we don’t all start have to start wearing cassocks or habits, but certainly your look shouldn’t say I just left a Hanes her way photo shoot.

Save us all our eye sight and sanity and check yoself before you wreck yoself….

Antics

I’ll tell ya, it’s not easy being me.  For real….I’m an airhead.  I’ll admit I’ve been blessed with booksmarts.  I’ve done really well in school and love to learn.  I can find my way around a quadratic equation or can discuss Anna Karenina with the best of them, but when it comes to common sense, the Good Lord skipped over me!

Take this evening for instance–I had just left the track feeling amazing after going for a pretty decent run.  I called Tom to ask if there were any additional items that I needed to pick up at the grocery store.  As I was leaving the store I decided to send my friend a quick text.  As I do this, I briefly look  up see my car and walk to it.  I hit the remote key and unlock the doors, stand in front of my car for a minute to read the text sent back to me and then I open the door.

As I open the door, I notice that the people having a conversation at the car in front of me abruptly stop talking.  I don’t think much of it and I look inside my car and think “Holy shit, this car is A LOT cleaner than my car.”

Next think I know the guy talking to the car in front of me says, “Be careful there is a dead body in there.”

Red in the face I turn to him and say, “Oh, this is your car isn’t it?  Sorry about that!”

He says “No problem.  I’m an undertaker”

“Oh-there really is a body in there” I giggle begin to walk away and say “sorry again”.

I get to my car and die–no pun intended–laughing.

True story.

This is the shit that I do in life.  

One New Year’s Eve, way before we had kids, Tom and I went to the local chinese restaurant to pick up our takeout.  As I walked in, I managed to trip, skydiving to the 25 cent gumball machine, missing it literally by an inch.  It looked like I was trying to use my body as a battering ram to assault the ill-fated sugary treat.

What does Tom do, you ask?  Basically pissed his pants laughing.  I walk back to the car as I watch fellow take-outers laugh at the ridiculous scene that they just witnessed.  As Tom struggles to compose himself, a lady looks at him and jokes, “I saw you push her!”

What about the time I went out to dinner with my a group of friends.  I decided to wear my sequined pants–no lie–total sequins. Some lady was giving me the stink eye, which I found troubling, so I looked at her and said “If you don’t like them, don’t look at them!”  I got all West Warwick on her ass.  My friends almost died….

Needless to say, I provide my husband with endless entertainment.  He could list off any variety of things that I have said or done that have ended with him shaking his head saying “Jesus, Angela!”

An Elephant On My Chest

It has been a few days since I’ve written.  I guess it is because my mind has been working overtime.  As of late my anxiety has crept on me, which is odd because it has been under control for so long.

Anxiety-that God awful feeling like something is always awry.  You can’t turn the “voices” off in your head–the lists, the things to do, the negative self talk.  Worst of all it feels as if there is an elephant sitting on your chest at all times constricting your every breath so you can’t concentrate on a GD thing.  It is awful and if you have ever suffered from anxiety or panic attacks, you get it.

Generalized anxiety is something that I have had since I was a kid.  At the time I didn’t know what it was, the unreasonable worries that would keep me awake at night, but now, I  know.

After my son, I suffered from a small bit of post partum.  I wouldn’t leave my house unless my best friend or mom came to get me.  I needed my husband to stay home as much as possible.  I’d walk into the supermarket with my  new-born baby and feel like I was having a heart attack.  Making it though each aisle took all of my energy.  I would go to bed at night feeling drained but I could never sleep.  Of course the new baby kept me awake, but I had insomnia anyways.  It was a vicious cycle–the less sleep I got the more anxiety I had and the more anxiety that I had caused me to stay up at night worrying.

I tried it all–changing my diet, journaling, exercising, therapy, meditation, herbal supplements–all of it did nothing.  Finally during my therapy sessions, my counselor suggested I talk to the doctor in the practice about the possibility of taking a medication.  I balked I WAS NOT GOING TO TAKE MEDICATION.

I was so worried about taking a pill.  Up to this point, I had lived life as a naturalist.  I am a firm believer that the body will take what it needs from mother nature.  Upon my first visit with the doctor she explained to me that people with anxiety are often the hardest people to treat because they spend so much time worrying and contemplating about taking the medication.  What if I turn into a zombie?  Won’t I lose my sex drive?  Does this mean I’m crazy?  Will I ever get off of this medication?   So,  I took the prescription begrudgingly and waited to have it filled.

I’ll never forget the day that I decided enough was enough.  I was at home with my son when my sister came to visit.  JT had just decided to smash his crackers into a million pieces and I lost it.  I went berserk.  Full on tears, nerves a wreck, so angry at the world–all over a few crackers.  Thank GOD my sister was there.  She calmly  explained to my son that mommy wasn’t feeling well and asked him to help clean up his mess and then she and I had a heart to heart about what needed to be done.  Living my life like that was no longer an option.

The next day I took my 5 mg.  Knowing now what I know, I will never go back to where I was.  The 5mg of Lexapro that I take a day helps to keep my body in check.  Turns out anxiety is a MEDICAL condition.  Afterall, the brain is a part of the body.  In people with generalized anxiety, serotonin is not being released at the same rate as in a “normal” person.  The Lexapro helped my body do what it needed to do so I was able to employ all of the other things like yoga and journaling to help keep me moving forward.

It was a long road, and one that I still battle, but now I have all the tools and support I need to keep me feeling whole.  On the one hand, I may never stop taking Lexapro, but on the other hand, I’m a much better mom because I can keep my mind straight.  All of those fears I had have been quelled: I’m not a zombie, I didn’t lose my sex drive, I’m not crazy, and maybe someday I’ll get off this medication.  Either way, I’m better for it because I can be focused on being the best version of me.

It amazes me that mental health can still be a taboo subject.  I mean the brain IS an organ in our body.  Just like cancer, it is difficult to treat, but it is a disease that needs addressing.  Maybe someday my struggle can be relatable to just one person and he/she, too, can get the help needed to feel whole again.

 

 

My girl

Maddie- 7 going on 17.  This kid was born with FIRE in her belly.  Even in my womb, she would make sure I knew that she was there.  At my first ultrasound the doctor told me there was a problem with the pregnancy.  The baby appeared to have a club foot, but we were not entirely sure of the severity.  EVEN THEN, nothing stopped her.  I used to say, “I don’t care what these doctors say, this kid will be an Irish step dancer.”  She would kick her way around my belly, so much so, that you’d see my belly doing a jig-regularly.  Now, she can carthweel herself from here to China and back and not stop.

Her entrance was even grand.  Our due date was in July, but that wasn’t soon enough for her.

It was June 6th, a warm evening even for June and after a delicious blue cheese burger with all of my best friends I decided to call it a night.  My head hit the pillow and I was zonked out.  1:45 am- I sit up in bed like I’ve been shot out of a rocket.

My water broke!  WHAT?!  The baby isn’t due for ANOTHER MONTH!!!  I wake up Tom.   “Tom my water broke!”  He jumps out of bed and gets dressed.

“WAIT–the new carepts!” I exclaim…..and we are on our way.  ONE MONTH EARLY…. it was just her time.

Of all three babies, she was the one who took to breastfeeding immediately.  She was barely in my arms and wanted to eat.   I guess she needed fuel for that fire.

Not much has changed.

One day we were going to the top of the driveway to wait for the bus.  Trying to be slick, she runs by me and says, “Bye mom”.  It is then I notice the bright pink, Zsa Zsa Gabor style eye shadow and lipstick.  “Get inside and wash that off!”  I say.  She is in second grade.  This kids kills me…but I love her so much.

I will never forget the time that we were at the airshow in Traverse City, MI.  The marines were giving away prizes to people who were able to do at least 6 chin ups.  Grown men were barely abel to do it.  Maddie says, “I want to try”.  That little pip got up there and did not 6, but 12 CHIN UPS!  Even the marines were impressed with her!  That is who she is–all strength and all heart.

Maddie is the MOST loving kid on the planet.  She will hug you, no matter who you are and what you are doing.  She is kind and giving and always wants everyone to be happy.  She has an infectious laugh and an incredible sense of humor.

Like her mama, she’s bold.  She doesn’t hold much in and uses her voice to get what she needs.  Most days her outfits match her fiery personality and she rocks the Punky Brewster off season look (tank tops in winter that clearly don’t match the bottoms).   This is the kid that taught her self gymnastics.  She did such a great job of teaching herself, she was placed in the advanced class!

More so than our other two, my Maddie is the perfect parts of Tom and I.  She has his wit and humor and my thick head.  Sometimes I look at her and think to myself, Ok little Angela, just listen to me.  Someday you will realize that I am not an effing idiot!  

The hardest part of it all is that I see so much of myself in her that it drives me crazy!  I just want her to reign it in on occaision and listen to me.  I hear myself getting irritated with her and think, wait you did all of this as a kid.  How do you parent yourself????  Thank God for my husband who balances the equation.

I hope Maddie keeps that fire in her belly because it will serve her well.  I am amazed by her everyday.  

From the dark comes light…

Ok, enough!  My pitty party is over.  I am so thankful that I have wonderful people around me who reminded me of all the blessings I have.  Life is about my three and I need to make sure my kids see me strong and independent.

I am so lucky that EVERY SINGLE DAY I am greeted with unconditional love from my three munchkins….everyday.

Anyways, I guess all in all it wasn’t a bad day.  I didn’t do a damn thing.  I watched the Wizard of Oz snuggled with my kids.  My husband changed the bathroom faucet.  My mom called to say thank you for the card.  And…. I wrote a poem!  Poetry was never my jam, but it just flowed out.  I have no idea if it was good.  But here it is:

Sometimes it feels so lonely here

like standing in a hollow tree

Can you see me??

I’m screaming, but you can’t hear me

See me,

know me

what do you see??

Why can’t you get me

it

anything  I feel

Like a plane, I have to skywrite my message

For you to see

but then

it’s to late

Just a cloud of vapor

No longer formed

lost inside me

Chipping away piece by piece of me

Hollow like my tree

Why can’t you see me?

A little dark yes, but that was the theme of the day.  Today however, is a new day.   I’m confident that as the sun makes its way back into New England, that I too, will feel bright and warm again.

 

 

Shittiest Day Ever

I’m trying really hard to be thankful for what I have instead of remorseful about what I don’t, but I can’t help but feel like this is the shittiest day ever.  I sit here as tears roll down my face because I feel like a failure.

By nature, I’m a fixer, but I couldn’t fix the one person who needed me most.  Logically I know we can’t fix anyone unless they want to fix themselves,  but it doesn’t soften the blow when your relationship crumbles. 

It’s mother’s day and I still haven’t heard from my mother.   I didn’t know what the proper protocol was in this situation so I got 2 cards — one from me and one from the kids.  I wrote a heartfelt note sent the cards and still nothing.  

Someone said to me,  “when someone refuses to talk to you after you tell them something, it’s usually because they know you are right.”  Today being right only feels lonely…..

I’m trying hard to make the best of today.   It’s raining.

Nothing has been planned to celebrate.  

I’m sitting here on my bed because the kids won’t even share the TV.  

I need to stop wallowing in self pity and make myself happy.  It just feels harder today more than others.  

Being a mom means showing strength even in adversity.  I guess it’s time to pull myself up by the bootstraps, put on my big girl panties, and be thankful for what I’ve been blessed with.  This is exactly what I’ve been preaching……..

Touche world, touche.

Raising a Racist????

It is Thursday night and I’m cuddling with my six-year-old on the couch watching Nifty videos when she says, “I don’t like black and brown people.”  

My heart sunk.  I have tried so hard to live a very socially responsible and aware life and have tried to impart that to my children.  I have purposely chosen to teach in an urban community specifically that caters to underserved communities.  Both my husband and I have a variety of friends from different races, religions, political inclinations, sexual orientation, etc.  What happened?  Where did we  go wrong?!?!?!  Did we do our children a disservice by living in a small rural community where diversity is sparse at best?  Have I not exposed my children enough to the beautiful world in which we live?

In all honesty, I don’t know where I went wrong, but what I did know is that this was the perfect opportunity to fix my mistake.   Still yet, I’m not sure I did enough, but here goes.

When Maeve said this, I calmly said to her, “Tell me what you mean.”   Maybe I misunderstood??   She explained to me that she does not like how people with black and brown skin have darker skins.   Immediately I googled the worlds black skin and I pulled up as many google images as I could of all skin colors.  I told her that I think people with darker skins are beautiful and that I love skin tones that are different from mine.  I also said that maybe you aren’t used to seeing a lot of different skin colors, so let’s look at some together.  We looked at people who were very dark and we looked at people who were almost as light as me.  I said some people say that this skin is black, but to me it looks like a beautiful chocolate color, what do you think?  She said, “I think it looks brown.”  We saw beautiful black women with bright teal makeup (teal being Maeve’s FAVORITE COLOR)–she loved that.  We saw women with short blond hair.  We saw Latino/Latina men and women.  We looked at everything but what we see everyday–white.  And you know what she said, “I think I just wast not used to seeing alot of black and brown people”

As we were looking and talking, I explained to her that it is not OK to not “like” someone based on the color of their skin.  Because she is in kindergarten, I tried to draw an analogy using eye color.   She’s no fool because right away she understood that it wouldn’t be fair if the brown-eyed kids were not allowed at the same lunch table just because of their eye color.  She knew that it wasn’t right to treat someone different based on the way they look.

We watched a youtube video that helped explain what I was having trouble putting into words.  We paused and we talked.  In the end, I felt really great about our conversation–open and honest–about racism.  We used that word–racism–and we talked about what that means and why it is not OK.   I think I did OK, but I know I need to do more.

Fundamentally,  Tom and I have always taught our children to be socially responsible–however I made one huge failure.  I thought living by example was enough.  It wasn’t.  I have always said that racism is bad, but I never actually discussed what that meant.  I just figured since I lived that way my kids would understand by osmosis.

To be clear, in all of my ten years of raising three kids, this is the first time this has ever come up.  In no way do I think I am breeding future KKK members, but I want to be very honest about a shortcoming that I never realized.  In order to fix our biases and shortcomings we have to confront them.  So in the interest of full disclosure and doing my part to fix this mess, I did a shitty job of talking about race in my house.

I am not writing all of this because I’m some super mom or super socially aware.  I am writing because I am admitting to a HUGE mistake that I made.  When I started this blog it was always with the intention of brutal honesty–always.  Though I have always thought of myself as a white ally, but I now wonder if I’m doing enough to close those gaps that exist–not just in race, but in gender, sexuality, religion, etc.  I need to make my children more aware of the “privilege” they carry just by virtue of being white.  I need my kids to play with kids of different colors, cultures, values, and backgrounds.  I need my kids to read literature that makes them a little uncomfortable.  I need to do more.

I need to do more..  I need to do MORE…

 

 

My thanks to all of you

Mother’s day is approaching, and as I’ve openly said, it feels a bit daunting this year. However, instead of lamenting about the way I wish things were,  I am choosing to celebrate the people in my life who build me up, build themselves up. and overall show a spirit of love, peace, and positivity.  Here is my thank you to you all…

 

My hubby- My husband is my rock.  He is the foundation on which I’ve built all of my adult life.  Long before there were kids and bills and adult things there was just him….blue eyes, great smile, strong arms, and the world’s largest heart….and he loved me.  He loved all of me-the hormonal crazy sometime irrational all of me.  He still loves the morning donkey breath, crazy hair, 20 lbs heavier, roadmap of stretch marks me.  Each day he keeps me laughing and enriches my life.  We’ve made mistakes together–colossal mistakes–but they have made us stronger, and for him I am thankful.  Thank you, Tom, for making me a mom.  Thank you for sharing equally in our journey.  Thank you for letting me be me.  Thank you for loving all of me.

My sis- Every time I hear the song “Stuck in the middle with you”, you are the first and only person that comes to mind.  I’ve known you longer and more intimately than any other human on this earth.  We are more closely related, genetically, than any other human being.  Though we don’t get to see each other nearly as much as I hope, you are the other half of me.  I can call and not even have to say a word and I know you “get” it.  We have been through it all.  We laugh for eachother, cry for eachother, and find joy for eachother.  Without you I am only half a person.  You are a passionate wife and mother and even better sister.  Thank you for being my matching puzzle piece – so different, yet fits perfectly together.

Dad- You are the very first man in my life and I thank God everyday that he blessed me with you as my father.  You have been the epitome of selflessness for your children and even more for your grandchildren.  Each day that I live a full life, I live it because of the gifts that you have bestowed to me and my sister.  Strength, resilience, fortitude, compassion, and love is what you embody.  Every child should be as lucky as my sister and I to have the example that you have set forth for us.  For all that you do to help me be a better mom and encourage me, thank you. I love you and without you as my dad, I could not be the mom that I am.

KC and RB-    You two are my people.  I’ve known you two longer than I care to mention.  You two are the ones that I consider blood, even though there isn’t a stitch of DNA between us.  You loved me at my worst and build me up at my best.  We celebrate life’s treasures together and we cry at life’s hardships.  Both of you have walked alongside me in light and darkness and for this I am eternally grateful.  I hope one day, to be as amazing as the both of you in spirit, strength, and kindness.  Each day that I know you, you make me a better person.  I love you to the ends of the earth and back, and when the day comes that we every should part, the loss of you would mean losing a part of me.  I love you.

DV-  I met you at a very precarious point in my life.  You guided me and helped me realize my strengths in ways you’ll never know.  You allowed me just enough room to make mistakes and learn from them while always truly wanting me to bethe best I can be.  You never gave up on my when even I would have given up on myself.  Without realizing it, you have been a second mom of sorts to me, helping me to be the woman I am.  I will always be grateful for all you did and will never be able to show my appreciation for the continual support you show me.  Thank you, and I too, love you.

KT- My mother-in-law- As I write this, I chuckle because who in their right mind thanks their mother in law…lol.  I do.  I thank you for so so many reasons.  I thank you because I know I am not an easy daughter in law to have and you still love and tolerate me.  I thank you because you gave me your beautiful son and he is my world.  I thank you because you love my kids–crazily–and the love you so much more.  I thank you because you have shown me through your actions what a good mother does for her kids, the sacrifices that are made, and the strength that is needed to get through.  I know my world is crazy, and I’m opinionated, loud, and generally inappropriate, but you still love me and tell your son that I deserve nothing but the best.  Thank you for accepting me and loving me as your own, and mostly thank you for allowing me to care for and love your son.  Without you, I would never be blessed with him or my children.  I thank you and I love you.

Mom- Though our relationship has seen better days, I am still thankful for the woman who raised me, the woman who raised me and my sister with love and care.  The memories that I have are ones that I will forever cherish. I wish our relationship was as it was just a few short years ago, and I hope that one day we can find that again.  I miss you–the real you–more than you will ever know.  Without you, I wouldn’t be here.  If you weren’t my mom, I would not have been born, met my husband, and had my children.  Just for choosing to give birth to me I thank you, because I breathe life and love each day.  I do love you, very much,  and I hope that soon, we will share these memories again.

To all of the other strong women in my life, I love you all so much.  This post would be 10 pages long if I mentioned every single one of you by name.  Please know that I am eternally grateful for the love and support that you have gifted to me.  For so many reasons I celebrate all of you– JDM,  SS, TA, KM, AV, KP, JM, AP, EB, MZ, SB, ALL of my aunts, my grandmothers and so many more.  I love you and I thank you.

 

 

 

Glum

I haven’t felt much like myself lately.  I’ve been feeling a little moody and under the weather.  The truth is that my relationship with my mom has been strained as of late and it’s really wearing on me.

To say that my mom and I were always close in a huge understatement.  She was typically the one that I turned to when things went awry. We always spent time together and she was exactly the person I wanted to help me raise my kids.

The story of why that all changed is long and quite honestly something I don’t want to rehash here and now, but suffice it to say, the mom that I’ve always had, loved, and cherished has ceased to exist for me for some time now.

It’s been as hard as fuck for me.  I miss my mom– A LOT, but we just can’t seem to see eye to eye, and believe me I’ve tried.  My husband, my closest friends, my sister–they can all tell you I tried, I did, but right now we aren’t speaking.  This wears so heavy on me.

Mother’s Day is approaching and although I am so blessed and fortunate to have three amazing and wonderful kids, I am not in the mood for celebrating.  I look on FB and can’t help but feel small pangs of jealousy when I see friends truly enjoying a fruitful relationship with their moms.  I don’t have that.

And if I’m being totally honest, I am SO SO scared that my kids will think that this is what is supposed to happen between your mom and you.  I would be devastated.  I love my kids more than I love the sweet air I breathe.  My absolute favorite moment of the week is Friday at 3 pm because I know I will be home just in time to snuggle with my three babies before the weekend begins.  It breaks my heart to think that the closeness I share with them could one day be strained.

My husband says not to worry, that I have worked hard so that the relationship with my kids would not be set up that way.  I don’t know, I bet my mom didn’t think so either…..

I’ve always said that life is for learning if nothing else.  I will do my best to figure out this messy situation and I hope, upon hope, that I get so see MY mom, the one I remember and love really soon–before it’s too late.