A Dose of Perspective

Today I hold my little man a little bit tighter and give him one extra kiss.

I love my job. Every day - I really do. But with every job there's always some bad to go with the good.

I met a family recently who had lost their 3 year old son to cancer. They are beginning a Foundation in his name to raise money to support pediatric cancer research. They stated with such certainty that they planned to find a cure that no one in the room could believe anything but.

As they shared their son's story, I think my heart actually stopped beating for a moment and I had to catch my breath. It ached for them and I fought back tears. I cannot imagine what they have gone through and I marvel at the passion with which they choose to move on.

And so today I remember that I am so blessed. And today I hold my little man a little bit tigher and give him one extra kiss.

I hope that each time I get frustrated with him that I remember how lucky I am to have him. I hope that as hard as potty training can be that I keep my wits about me and remember that I can even be thankful for little wet drawers.

And I hope he knows how much I love him and how much he has changed my life. I hope I remember to tell him often how much he adds to our little family. I hope I remember his sweet giggle and how much he loves Thomas the Train. I hope I remember him jumping on our bed & screaming 'look at me mah-mah, look at me!'.

I hope I remember the first time he told me that he 'wuv'd' me and I hope to always hold his small sweet hand in mine.

Falling for the Five's

And forgetting our Four's

Four was rough with A. There were several moments over the stretch known fondly as 'freak-out-four's' that I poured out my troubled heart to friends as I poured wine into our glasses. My friends encouraged me to hang tight - that Five's were just around the bend...and promised me that Five's were a bit more fabulous.

The four's felt really really really long. Somehow life must be harder when you reach four because she behaved as if she was being torturned half the time. She was frustrated by most everything, she did most everything at a snail's pace, whining the entire way through. She refused to eat, didn't want to get dressed, didn't want to put on her shoes, didn't, didn't, didn't, didn't. You get the picture.

As much as you love your kids...you may like them a little less from time to time (and I say that with a big smile) when they are going through these 'phases'.

And just when we were at wit's end with all the shenanagin's...A turned 5 in January. I can't tell you how we anticipated that day! I think Josh and I thought it would we would magically see a metamorphosis from the little green monster to a well behaved princess...as soon as we hit the start of her 5th year - on the hour she was born.

Clearly there was no magic in site that very day....but I can say that in March we are on the right track. This week my sweet, loveable, listening, minding, helpful little girl returned. And now we are well on our way back to princessdom.

My sweet baby girl has returned! She's decided learning might be fun after all (phew - we were worried about school), she gets her self dressed in the morning, helps get her breakfast, takes her dishes to the sink, brushes her teeth when asked, cleans up her toys, she kisses and hugs and cuddles her mama and skips the whining and fits and reasons why she can't or won't altogether.

Phew. Welcome back my sweet girl. Just in the nick of time! Mama was about to lose her mind. I've missed you! I am so glad to be off track 4 & on track 5. (And to those who are reading along, please DO NOT ruin it for me. I just want to be in this happy place tonight).

Straying a BIT off topic, but it'll do my best to get back on.

My Grandpa George passed away last week. (It's Mama Laura)

I am so extremely sad to have had him go, but his 95 years of life were good and he was more than ready to go see his bride - grandma "Vi' (Viola). As we prepare to say goodbye to him this week and lay him to rest next to the love of his life, I have been pondering the many happy days I spent as a child with the two of them.

There were bike rides in grandma's 3-wheel bike 'basket' (yes, both my sister and I would hop in the back basket & she would pedal us up and down the street), picking cherries from the tree out back, playing hide-n-seek in the woods out back, watching grandpa carefully pot and fertilize his flowers in the greenhouse, picking roses off of the bushes, running through the sprinkler, the hummingbird feeder that he filled with homemade 'sauce' each day, grandma cutting our hair in the hair salon my grandfather built for her off the back of the house.

But I think what I will and want to always remember most is this: They were in love. Really truly, deep down, found-your-soul-mate-can't-live-a-day-without-you kinda love. I don't ever remember them raising their voices at each other (or anyone for that matter). I remember grandpa growing beautiful flowers for her every year to wear on mothers day. I remember him telling me the story about how they eloped with they were 17 & 18...and then spent a year living at their respective homes before they broke the news to their families. He talked about the years he spent away at war - and that after each return home a new child was born. My dad was the first.

I remember my dad telling me that they found stacks of neatly bound letter that they had written to one another while he was away at war.

Grandpa shared with me that after grandma lost her memory to alzheimers and she was slipping away, he would wrap her up each night in her favorite blanket and carry her outside to her favorite chair on the deck so that they could sit together under the stars. This was a chair he made for her.

I remember that he's visited her nearly every Sunday since she passed. I know that he wanted more than anything to join her again, and so he has.

It seems to me that this 'love' exists rarely these days and I wonder what has happened to us all that makes this the case? Has our world, and subsequently so many of us, lost the true meaning of what it means to build and hold and fight to hang on to (no matter what) those you love?

I miss you already grandpa. Thank you for sharing so many lessons in my life. Please tell grandma I send my love.