The Adventures of Truman and Fletcher- boy

A penny for your thoughts.  I’ve got a million. But as I grasp for the thoughts I find myself still reaching, coming up empty.  Feeling lost and like I’ve lost.  Except I haven’t.  I’m one of the lucky ones.  My heart hurts, but not in the same way as a mother who has lost her child. Not in the way that a mother plays back the last words, the last touch… the last everything.   I sit here sick with grief for this village we call parenthood. Sick with anger, and sick with fear. Sick of posts like this.  I sit here with a million thoughts and questions.  I sit here helpless, yet always hopeful. Hopeful for healing. Hopeful for change. Hopeful for safety.  It’s naive to a certain degree, I’ll give you that, but without that hope how else do I find the courage? The courage to fight. The courage to raise boys to become men who recognize their emotions and do not flee from them, but to speak to them and face them.  There’s no politics to debate here tonight, and even if there were, this isn’t

22?  So who finds it ironic that it’s 2022,  22 months since the world shut down and we are again looking at a school closure due to Covid?   Heard these lyrics earlier today from our friend Taylor Swift.  “don't know about you But I'm feeling 22 Everything will be alright if You keep me next to you” Well I know about me, and so far I’m not feeling ‘22.. January is generally a dark month for many. It’s gray, we take down our Christmas decor and did I mention it’s gray? And then in marches Covid, yet again, to remind us that we’re still in this.  That it doesn’t matter who’s next to us, because right now it’s not alright.  ( and this is NOT a post about severity of disease, vaccine efficacy, etc.  This is a post about MY feelings ) A text came through on Sunday afternoon stating that school would be canceled for a few days.  We’re too short staffed to operstd our schools. Thank goodness only a few days and not indefinitely like before.  But still my heart fluttered.  I instantly

 Behind the fence I have to let go.  I can control nothing but my emotions .  I can’t control theirs.  And some days ( today) that’s easier said than done.  A strike out leads to tears.  A bat hit into the ground for theatrics.  More tears . I get frustrated at their frustration. I react.  Bigger than I should.  ( turns out that doesn’t help anyone) And now those big emotions are even more unstable and out of control.  But what do you do when it’s more than that? What do you do when the emotions are bigger than the child can handle?  Do you intervene?  Do you address it later ?  I don’t have the answer, I’m genuinely asking . Tonight my small human struggled. Not only in public but also at home.  It took tremendous patience to wait it out.  He was embarrassed, frustrated and his little body literally quaked with too much energy.  I could feel the anxious beat of his heart , which echoed my own. But eventually the adrenaline passed and he found his way to my lap.  Slowly.  Tentatively h

Nearly 8 months ago I wrote these words and I can still feel the emotions that accompanied them.  "I laid in the dark, early morning hours this morning knowing that in a few hours my kiddos would walk into school.  Tru, for the first time in six months, Fletcher for the first time.  And there have been so many emotions to fill this day. " The emotions hit different today.  Joy.  Relief.  Gratitude.  Amazement.  Eight months ago, I thought there was no way we'd make it to this day.  Heck, I wasn't sure we'd make it past the first month. But we did.. and then one turned in to two, fall turned to winter, 100 days passed and now the last day.  So here we are.  The conclusion of another year.  Backpacks came home ,just like they always do, filled with a years worth of  work and learning, snacks that should have been tossed long ago and (a new addition this year) an abandoned mask or two.  But it pretty much looks the same.  And credit to parents and educators alike for

I saw something on the news tonight about finding the last picture on your phone before the lockdown happened .    I found a video of Truman and myself walking to soccer practice on March 10th, one year ago today.    Mere days before all we knew was different.  The boys then started looking through pictures with me from last March on.    Lots of walks, snuggles and crafts.    They said things like “that was fun” and “you made that really cool”. As much as the last year has been hard (not shown in photos were the many tears and freak outs)and as much as I feel like I’ve failed over and over again.. I need to remember the perspective of these boys and know that it’s been ok.     ❤️ Looking through pictures is different than it was before.    Pictures from 2019 feel different from 2020.    2020 pictures automatically raise my heart rate.    Those pictures transport me back and clearly remind me of the early    days of the pandemic.    But in other ways, those 2020 pictures are blurry.   

How it started and how it’s going memes seem to be all the rage right now.  Heck I even shared a picture recently with this caption just to jump on the band wagon.  When I see them, I can't help but think of how this pandemic started for me and where I am almost a year later.  Right now year old memories pop up on my phone reminding me of dinners  out, no masks , school events, birthday parties and more.   These memories make me happy as I see our smiling faces, but it also makes me want to jump into those photos and prepare the people in them for the changes right around the corner.  How naïve I feel when I look back.  And how much anxiety I feel now for the me of a year ago.  She doesn't know what's coming, and wouldn't believe me if I could sneak back in time and tell her.  We’re weeks away from the anniversary of school cancellation, lockdowns and the change of life as we had previously known it.   Over the past few months I think I've blogged enough about how i