They Teach Us

I watched B flip off the bed onto the bench and then onto the floor.  He took a second shook it off moaned a little and then got up and wanted back on the bed.  From there he carefully climbed down and reminded himself he knew how to get down and that he could still do it.

We can truly learn from their inability to accept defeat and failure.  B is no good at just moving on from a task he can not complete.  Whether it is winding up a car or climbing to reach something he wants.  In the middle he may throw a fit but he will not move on until the task is complete.  I know people say distract children and they will forget but with B he does not.  He will eventually do whatever it is he is trying to do.

Children also seem to have a trust that could remind us how the world used to be.  He will share anything with a stranger.  I am not sure where he gets this from because he is not in day care but he will walk right up to you and offer you anything from a dry leaf to his favorite toy.  And when you accept it he just lights up.

While in todays day and age I will have to teach him that talking to strangers is not safe it still says something about children that they trust until they have a reason not to.  And lets be real most adults don't trust until they have a reason to trust.

With everything going on in my life I find it easier to complain when tired, whine when I fall and not trust unless I have to.  I think many of us do this as we get settled in our ways and in our lives.  But I ultimately believe that it actually paralyzes us in ways that we don't see till later on.

So many times I used to fall get up dust myself off and try again but the older I get it feels like I lay there a little while.  I wallow in my pity and whatever I just failed at.  I let the fear or the fall determine my next move.

As with trust it can take one family member, friend, coworker or whatever to ruin it for all those to come.  And although I act like I am so open and willing to accept things I find that really I am not.  Really if you hurt me well I am done, ok most times, there are a few people I give/gave second and even third chances to but often was proven that guarding myself was much easier and better on the heart and soul.

Sometimes I wish I could just fail and trust as B does.  I wish that I could let go and be more open to people and the world and then all that has been served to me comes rushing back.  This is something I am working on both in myself and with God.  And I do not believe I am the only one who doesn't live as care free as a toddler.

Reality Hits

As I sit here knowing my Mother will get on a plane tomorrow to head to the other side of the country to say good bye to her father I wonder if that will be me sooner than later.  I wonder how I grew up so fast that my grandfather will now be our angel.  And I wonder how I am the daughter of a man that will most likely not see 2013.

Some days are better than others with tears flowing and some days I know that we will have one heck of a team cheering us on in heaven but no matter what I am scared of how to deal with this all emotionally.  I guess I am just going to have to go with the flow and the moment.

I can smile about the fact that my grandma might move here but the lump in my throat grows as I know that means my grandfather passed.

He will probably not even make it through the week and it is just now hitting me that I will not be visiting their little Spanish bungalow in San Diego anymore.  The old kitchen will soon be occupied by another family and chances are another little girl will be standing on her tippy toes trying to see out the cool green beveled glass front door. 

California will become where I was born rather than where my grand parents live and the chances of my family hauling across the country to go there is slim.  Of course unless my sister does end up out there.  But even then she will travel to us most the time I am sure.

The screen porch that I used to clean off sea shells in will become someones place to sit and relax and that crazy blue and white bathroom out in the detached area will be changed I am sure of it.  There will be no more spying on Miguel next door the boy I have known since birth and the days of playing the organ will only be fond memories.  

How is it that my little boy is sleeping in his crib, I am almost 32 and am approaching my 6th wedding anniversary.  I feel like just yesterday I was on their living room floor playing with the nesting dolls and crocheted coasters anticipating the drive to Disneyland with the whole family.

I know my grandfather had a wonderful life and a hard one at that.  He was born in an era that I dream of and that I often get lost in.  He was a rancher and a cowboy and also worked on the steal carriers in the bay.  He is well known at the border by all the patrol as his family owned hundreds of acres that would later be taken by the state.  Oh how that land would have set us all for life he used to be angry but now I think just content on where we all are.

I don't know him without his hearing aids beeping or his uncanny ability to ignore my grandmother.  I only know the scruffy chin and wise ass remarks.  I know his warm lap and the smell of his after shave.  He was my favorite man for soooo long.  He was my "Big Grandpa".  He used to tell me I reminded him of his mother and for that I will forever live knowing I have big shoes to fill.

His health has deteriorated over the last years thus the man that we have known for the past 5 or so years is not the man that I have known my entire life.  Because of my memory bordering photographic I have chosen to visit minimally because I would rather hang on to the good times.  While many in the family think that is weird my Mom has totally supported this decision and continues to remind me we all grieve in different ways.

She asked me if there was anything I want from their house and 3 things popped into mind.  His desk, a stool in the kitchen and the rainbow crochet coasters.  It is funny how we all have memories in different things.  I love the stool as I sat in that so many dinners and game nights being I was the youngest.  That stool for me is their home it is my place in their home.

I continue to try and be strong for my mom and for myself but know that losing such an amazing man is going to hurt.  Losing a place that I have known for 32 years baffles me to the core.  But I will forever be grateful for the years I did get with him I know I am very blessed.

I think about him being in pain right now and can only pray that my mom gets to say her good byes and when its time for him to go I hope he will stop by kiss me and B on the head and leave a trail of his cologne as the gates of heaven open and they welcome one of the greatest men  I have ever known.

Down Sizing

It's funny I have a friend who is trying to lose weight and she is kicking butt to boot!  She is excited about shopping for new clothes and the fact that her current ones are falling off.  While I am totally proud of her I am thinking to myself how am I losing all the weight I have.

Just yesterday my hubby told me if I get a six pack we are going to have problems that my stomach is no existent.  This is not purposely although I am enjoying that it has not taken much effort.  I must admit though that the 25+ pairs of jeans in my closet are pretty much making me upset about the not trying for weight loss.

When my mom visited last weekend she mentioned had I been doing anything to help it along and frankly I can say I am not.  Two strollers with flat tires have been my excuse for several mile walks.  I mean I have raked and cleaned the house and chased  a toddler but many friends do the same and are just the size they are.

A while back I had a rude awakening about food allergies this has altered my diet pretty extremely but even then I am surprised that it has affected my body the way it has.  Who knew gluten was worth so much weight, literally.

Don't get me wrong I am in no way complaining that I have gone down several sizes without trying but at the same token I am so not in the mood to go get a new wardrobe.  So far my belt has been my saving grace and I am down to rotating 4 or 5 of the maybe 25 jeans I have as to keep them on my ass when I am walking around. 

I know that it is time to go through my closet and be realistic that even with a pregnancy or weight gain I will probably never see the size some of them are again.  Again happy for the loss of the weight sad for the loss of some of the clothes I adore. 

I have not stepped on the scale in months which is probably a good thing considering this loss was not planned and if the numbers did not reflect the size changes I would be totally worried.

I started thinking I may take this size change as an opportunity to really take a look at my wardrobe and what I want and need in it.  As my life has changed so much over the last 6 months it only seems that my clothes should too.  I am kind of giddy about this but being I don't want to end up with just passing trends or likes I am taking my time. And by time I mean I have not bought anything!

The loss is getting more noticeable by other people and I continue to get asked what I am doing, UHHH nothing really.  Frankly I like my friends answer better, exercising and a meal plan sounds much more confident and realistic!

While I will continue to eat how I have been and meal plan for the month I do wonder when the loss will stop.  I pretty much only have a butt and thighs left and well I would be happy for them to down size but they do seem to be hanging on for dear life.

I am excited to see what comes of the physical changes this spring and summer and how my wardrobe changes as I get more confident and comfortable in this new body.  And can you imagine if I get those wheels fixed??

Bring it on I say bring it on! Of course though all the jeans will still sit there quietly waiting and wondering if I will put all the weight back on...

Hand Me Downs

As a kid I did not care for hand me downs in fact I probably dreaded them.  But now with my son I adore them.  It is not just because we save money or we are too cheap to buy B clothes but I love the story behind them. 

He got tons of hand me downs from a 2nd cousin but we are not close with them so those are more appreciated than adored.  But the ones from his friends just make me smile as I dress him in them.  Knowing that little boys who are his friends some of whom he looks up to wore them and wore them well.  I love thinking about the adventures they had in them.

I have a shirt from one of our good friends that I always refer to as C's shirt.  Although we have had it for a long while it will always and forever be C's shirt.  I tend to take too many picts of B wearing it and send them to C's Mommy or post them in social media for her to see.  I am surprised she does not think I am nuts. 

Beyond hand me downs I am adoring vintage.  I mean really who does not want to see their children in clothing that has stood the test of time.  That has experienced in some cases more than we have seen in our lifetime. 

Last night I put B in a pair of pj's that were of course given to us and just to think of the sweet dreams, lullabies and blankie cuddling those jammies saw well before B was wearing them makes my heart burst.  I love some of the new clothes I purchased but when there is no story to them I just think oh he looks cute or handsome I don't dwell on where they have been or where they are going.

To some people it may just be used clothing but to me it ties my son to his peers, friends and even the past.  I like that I get to see my son be himself in the clothing while some other little boy did his thing in them.  I am sure no two nights were the same between both boys in those jammies.

As B gets older I hope he sees the fondness I have for not only all the clothes but other things we have been given along the way.  We couldn't be more grateful for being part of the story that makes up the tapestry of those little jammies, jeans and many other items.

I have even found myself lately wanting vintage, hand me downs, used or whatever you want to call them.  I want to be part of the bigger picture I want to walk in someone elses shoes and leave my trail in them.

I know that when I take items to Goodwill or where ever I never look back but I think I will start to take a minute to appreciate the story of where my clothes or shoes or pillows for that matter have been and then wish them well on their next adventure.

It is not all about upcycling or reusing items it is about the story of that silly item.  Whether big or small if something was owned prior to you it has some type of story.  From a shirt that was bought but never worn and lived in the closet to a little boys pair of pants that are worn and faded.  They all have a story when you look at the racks of the thrift store or in the box at the garage sale.

I will continue to smile and swoon each time I put B into a hand me down and I will continue to make an effort to incorporate them into my wardrobe , why?  Because I am a person who likes to not only know the story but who likes to be part of it.

The Power of 3

Some people believe that death, tragedy, distruction or whatever happen in 3's.  I happen to fall into the category believer.  I don't know if it is true but I know that when I pay attention that they do happen in 3's the same can often be said for the good things though.

This year it is most likely inevitable I will lose my father, grandfather and step grandmother.  Busy year huh.   My grandfather probably wont see the summer time my father well who knows and my step grandmother she is another who knows.  It has me both sorrow filled as well as grateful that we will have some pretty fantastic angels up there watching over us. 

My mom mentioned that old saying of God does not give us more than we can handle and I do believe that but this roller coaster of in and out of hospitals, resuscitation and the overall unknown is tiresome.  We all thought my grandpa was gone and frankly he was but they brought him back.  After I am sure a short jaunt to check on all his kids and grand kids he went back to Calif. to try and make it to 100.  Well 97 is here and he is just tired and ready and we have all assured him  he can go. 

Hubby lives in his own little world through all this.  He tries to be supportive and caring but he is so focused on getting our car back that sometimes I actually think it is more of an excuse and outlet than facing what is truly in front of us.  But I guess it is pretty hard to face that we have so many relatives knocking on heavens gates and he just walked away from a wreck that under any different circumstances should have had him there as well or at minimum injured.

Facing death is never easy but it seems that since I became a mother it is almost easier now because I get that with birth comes death and birth is fricken fantastic.  I once heard the old souls must leave to make room for the new ones and in a way that makes sense and provides comfort when you have to say goodbye to someone who has live a long fruitful life.  (dont get me started on death of young people) 

As I wonder if each phone call is one to tell me someone passed away I still try to turn to my son and enjoy the moments we are in.  I try to teach him that death is not pretty but Mommy can see the silver lining of any cloud because I can only believe that all those I know will go to heaven.

There is a church down the road very very small and every week is a new message about heaven and how wonderful it is.  How to get in and what a party and good time they are having.  "Think life is good now just wait till you get to heaven"  helped me through a pretty dark day of wondering who was next. 

I don't wish this type of year on anyone but I am not gonna lie with this season of death and change I know will come growth and good fortune of some sort.