Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Reality Check

I don’t know what’s gotten into me since I unloaded my bullying experience.  It feels like 95% of my motivation for writing evaporated as soon as I hit “Publish.” 

My kids will do or say something and I’ll think oh, that’s a great topic to write about, but instead of germinating and poking its head up through the ground, the seed remains dormant.  My mind has been rendered infertile, dammit, and I do not like it!

So I apologize to you, dear reader (all one of you), for two things:  first, for my recent lack of posts, and second, that it might take me some more time for the brain to return to its fertile, writing-piece-sustainable state.

While all of this is frustrating, though, it’s really not all that bad.

I talked to a mom yesterday who, almost two months ago, had a bilateral mastectomy and about thirty lymph nodes removed.  Tomorrow she starts chemotherapy, and will later also undergo radiation, to ensure that the stage three breast cancer she was diagnosed with is eradicated.  She has a six year old and a four year old.

Thankfully, her doctor says that after her treatment, there is a less than one percent chance that the cancer will return.  But in the meantime, she has a hellish road ahead of her.

I can’t imagine what she is going through not just physically and financially, but emotionally as well.  Just thinking about it makes my stomach tighten and my eyes well up. 

In the meantime, I am organizing helpers among my moms’ club – we’re going to do what we can to help this mom in need by running errands, hosting her kids for playdates, bring them to and from school, and providing gift certificates to Target and the grocery store.

So yeah, I have been rather frustrated that I can’t seem to break through this writer’s block, but my frustration is far preferable to the medical, financial, and emotional turmoil that my friend is dealing with.  I pray for her, and I thank God for the blessings that I have.

I know I’ll get my writing groove back.  I've got to.  I’m a full time mother to three little boys.  Just dealing with them, how can my mind not return to its normal, sarcastic state?

Sunday, February 19, 2012

His First Sleepover

From his perspective, it's a big deal.  A rite of passage, you could say.

J was invited to, and is going on, his first sleepover tomorrow night.  I should qualify that statement somewhat – he has slept over Grandma and Grandpa’s house a couple of times, but this will be his first sleepover at a friend’s house.

He’s so excited.

I’m excited for him, too.  I remember sleeping over my best friend’s house when I was his age.  It was the coolest. thing. ever.  Come on, admit it - when you're seven, a sleepover at your friend's house is really that cool.

I’m also a little nervous.

Gee, now there's a shocker...  you, nervous about something?

I know, I know, that’s just a little bit helicopter-ish, but what can I say?  I am a little bit helicopter-ish.  Let’s also not forget that lovely little tendency I have to worry and be ever-so-slightly dramatic.  

Trust us, we don't forget that easily.  

But cut me a break, k?  This is my oldest, my first child, going to spend the night at the house of a person to whom we have no blood relation.  

All right, all right.  We're snarky, but we're not heartless.  It is hard to sit back and watch the little birdies fly from the nest, even if it's only overnight.

So, what exactly is making me nervous?

That I don’t know the parents very well; that although they were in class and played basketball together last year, J doesn’t mention this boy in conversation; that his friend is the youngest of three; that I’ve never been to their house; that the father has offered to pick J up instead of me bringing him there (so I can "feel out" their home); that in addition to J there will be another classmate of theirs plus the middle child is also having a friend sleep over; that something might happen that will make J uncomfortable and he will be unsure how to act; and OMG do these people have an unlocked liquor cabinet or guns in the house?

Okay, I was pretty okay before, but now I’ve just worked myself up into a small-sized (for me) tizzy.  

Way to go, mom.  So what are you gonna do about your concerns?

Well, I have to call the father back tomorrow to confirm, so I suppose I have some questions for him.  I did explain earlier today that J has only slept over his grandparents’ house, so understandably Hubster and I are a little, um, helicopter-ish about him.  Hopefully that will explain some of my possibly bizarre questions.

Is that it?

Nope.  To help ease my mind and ease my hesitation about letting go of my baby, I hereby send positive thoughts for a fun, safe, and exciting experience for J tomorrow night.  And peace of mind for Mommy.

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Status: Charging

In case you hadn’t noticed, my last two blog entries were, well, kinda heavy.

So heavy, in fact, that I am now either regrouping after unloading a heavy burden that I had been carrying around for years, or I am suffering from a massive case of writer’s block.

I’m not sure which it is.  Maybe a little of both.

But in the meantime, I do have something rather amusing to share.

Remember how I said I wanted more balance?  That seeing pictures of friends’ Gals Night Out gave me the sadz because I’m a Gal, but wasn’t Out?

Yeah.  And you know that old saying when it rains, it pours, right?

The more astute reader will probably see where this is going, but for those who prefer that the dots are placed really close together, I shall explain in detail:

It's pouring.

On my calendar?  Let's take a look, shall we?
  • Tomorrow night I am going to meet with some moms from T’s preschool, who have started an informal book club.
  • Next Friday I am going to play BUNCO with some moms I have known for several years and some moms I have yet to meet.
  • And just today I was asked if I would be interested in joining a group of moms from J’s elementary school to get together to play cards and drink wine.
You just realized that you need your sunglasses to shade your eyes from the sparkle in my super-wide smile, don'tcha?