Friday, November 8, 2013

Andrew and 2

Andrew and I have not had such a great week. Ryan and I had a sinking suspicion Andrew was going to be more of a challenge at 2 then Daniel and Jake when he was born, and the premonition is coming to fruition. Andrew does not do anything at 50%. He's an all or nothing kinda kid. Which is great-most of the time. This past week he's been loud, he's been emotional, he's been hitting, screaming, and crying. He can't sit still. He doesn't understand no or wait or that's Jake's. He slammed the fridge door and broke glass bottles and at that point I stood there and just started crying. After a night of trying to keep him entertained at Jake's taekwondo class (I broke down and got the kid ice cream too just to placate him) eventually having to raise my voice, I just lost it.
He is 2. I'm not new to this Mommy business. I get that he doesn't understand I was already having a hard time before. (It's that season again. Missing Daniel a lot) But I am human. And my limit was done. I thought to myself, how am I going to make it another year with his emotional lability? 
And then this morning while I was changing him for school, he jumps into my lap, grabs me in a hug only Andrew can do (arms wrapped around the neck, snuggled into me) and says, "oves you, Mommy". In that moment, I got just enough strength to know I'll make it through this trying time. And I will continue to love on that little boy even when his attitude makes me want to scream. He's my special, special guy and that bond that we share is still very present. And that cannot change despite age 2 or 3 and whatever else the growing years will bring. 

Saturday, November 2, 2013

I've been quiet over here again. It's not for lack of things going on in life and in my mind; it's just trying to find all the time to fit it in. I'm lying in bed typing this out on my phone if that's any indication on when I can squeeze this in. I did make a promise to myself, however, that I would continue to write if God purposed continuing my story; so here I am, lying in bed and making that time. 
October is one of my favorite months. Other then Christmas, there isn't another time that lightens my soul and fills me up with such joy. It goes without saying too much that the October of 2011 was hard.  Like many things that I now have to do in my day to day that Daniel isn't included in, celebrating that Fall was like a big slap in the face; a dose of the truest reality that my boy wasn't going to be by my side. It was hard. I struggled a lot. I was in a constant pull of wrapping myself in sorrow and peeling it back to catch the rays of hope. I made every effort to be more there in life and fight the grief that had wormed it's way in. 
2 years later, I still do have that battle. Without understanding how I am until I can see myself from the other side, I grow more despondent and fitful. Little things bother me more and seem to grow bigger in need. I can be short tempered and retreat more into myself.  Joy with the new life I am living gets replaced with the hurt of my former life. I feel cheated, jealous and sad. I cry. I try and comfort myself but I've since learned, I cannot comfort myself in this time; I just have to accept it for what it is and keep in the back recesses of my mind that there is hope once this part of grieving is done. 
And then I come out of it. It doesn't last as long as I feel it does. I'm not sure what triggers the change; maybe it's because I gave myself that time; or maybe it's because I've fought this battle enough times that my arsenal of hope pushes the bad thoughts back. All I know is that each time I come back, I can embrace life better. Each time I fight the fight, I grow stronger in my desire to hold close what it truly dear.
The most recent pumpkin patch excursion is a great example of the change that occurs when given time to heal and allow to be healed. 2 years ago we began a wonderful tradition of celebrating Fall with my very closest friend and her family. Whom I love, love, love. I can remember October of 2011. I was autopilot Mom. Going through the motions for the kids and really trying hard to grab some of the happiness I was trying to give the boys. Really, most of that entire day was spent wishing Daniel to be a part of it. Making new memories and experiences without having him there to share in it felt really lacking. Fast forward to this past year. (2012 was spent at home as we were in the middle of daycare illnesses) The sting of continuing with something so fun and not having Daniel there was less. The laughter was more real. The smiles truly genuine. My point in all of this is this; there is joy for those that seek it. There is the purest form of happiness if you choose to embrace it. I will forever choose. 

Psalm 27:13 
Yet I am confident I will see the Lord’s goodnesswhile I am here in the land of the living.