Forty Something Parents

The Ins & Outs of Parenting


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Baby Turns 5…In a Flash of Light

Seems like just-yesterday, we were welcoming our little Nixi into this world, and now…she’s five years old.  My…how time flies when you’re having fun and chasing a little’n at the ripe ‘young’ age of 46!  :  P  Even though my Nixi leaves me feeling quite exhausted most days, I find it invigorating just-the-same.

Today I found the energy to go for an hour-long walk along the ocean; pushing Baby in her jogger…all the way…for over an hour round-trip.  I should feel drained, but I don’t!  Instead…I feel like I actually accomplished something today.  In fact…this whole week, since Sunday when Baby turned 5, has been a very pleasant…but busy, change to our regular everyday; which I admit has become quite monotonous.

One thing most folks know about me, if they know me at all, is that me and ‘monotony’ do NOT mix.  I long for change…adventures anew, each and every day.  I long to wander this vast globe of opportunity, and see the things many have yet to see.  Still, I am stationary…for now!  I keep telling myself, ‘Your days a-comin’ little lady!  Your days a-comin.’  I look so-very forward to the rest of my life.

Seeing my youngest child growing so fast, my oldest with a child of her own (my only grandchild), and my son in the Army…away and very missed, reminds me I really don’t have all the time in the world.  But for now…I am sharing some pics from her 5th Birthday Party.  I hope it brings a smile to your face, and some joy to your heart.  I know seeing them again, certainly made me smile.  :  ))

Enjoy!!


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The Scent of Longing

I woke up this morning wishing I could call my mom; and wondering when my oldest daughter will get over the thing she thinks was bad enough to not speak to me for over 3 months.  If only I could have just three more months with my mom, I’d be the happiest girl in the world.  I miss her so bad on most days, that it’s unbearable.  She was a forty-something mom too. 

So many times she’d tell me the story of how I came to be; how my Daddy gave me my name; how I would always be her baby.  My heart continues to hurt.  I wish I could call her and have her be the mediator between me and my oldest daughter ‘M’.  I miss her pretty face.  I miss my precious little grandson; his smile that will light up any dark day or pitch-black room.  He is a gem…a priceless gem!  And I haven’t gotten to see him…hold him…smell the way my little guy smells; like a bit of dried up milk and…well…like my grandson. 

We all have our own scent; that one way we smell to those around us, whether it be good or bad.  When you love someone, that scent-of-a-person is always a welcoming thing; like going home after being away for a long…long time.  My mom always smelled like Roses and perfume; an indescribable scent that belonged only to her. 

I can open the jewelry box that I inherited; the one that had belonged to Mom since I can’t remember—perhaps longer than I’ve been alive—and it still has her scent.  I’m careful not to open it too often…so-as not to lose it forever.  At least that way, I still have my mom…at least a little.   

Even still, knowing the changes that will be taking place in our lives this coming month; the changes that are already taking shape, I want to see and talk to…to hug my ‘M’ and little ‘J’ even more.  My heart hurts more and more with every thought and wonder of how they are doing.  Are they safe…?  Are they happy…?  How much bigger is my little guy now than he was back in December; the last time I got to hold him in my arms all night because he was down with a fever and his mom had something to do.  I wish I could make it all right again.  I wish…I could cry more often…to release the years of pain and hurt built-up inside of my heart.  I wish my kids could see inside of me…inside my heart, then they would never have any doubt about how much I really do love them.  Nothing will ever change that.

So now I am faced with the tasks at hand: too many to mention in one sitting.  It is time to roll with the wind once more…and see what needs to be seen.  I have sat here day after day, wondering when it will all seem new again; when my kids will pull up into the drive; when it will all be better, but it is still just what it is.  That is why I have to go with the flow–do what needs to be done, face what needs to be faced, and hope and pray that one day…soon, my family will all be one once again.  We will all be alright…truly better for having suffered through this time; minus of course that one void we will never be able to fill.  My mom is still not with us.  I miss her.  I miss her. 

*Love like there is no tomorrow.  Forgive like you wish to be forgiven*  


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A Mother’s Dream

*I’m up early this morn–I had a dream about my daughter (the oldest one)* I miss her face and my GBear, too. : (

As the dream went:  She was at my door–where we lived before–and she looked very sad and lost.  I quickly unlocked the chain when I saw it was her.  She was wearing a red T-Shirt; the one she always wore to sleep, the words “I’m a Pepper” written across it.  I was holding my toddler on my hip, and she began asking about her nephew–my grandson…the son of my oldest–as they had become quite close since he came home from the hospital.  He had been born with complications and specials needs at only 3.5 lbs, but had quickly grown into a heppy…healthy little tyke.  *My heart hurts to see his smile.*

In my dream, my oldest (I’ll call her ‘M’), reached for Baby (my youngest) but Baby turned away and kept asking for my grandson.  My daughter ‘M’ didn’t seem to care that I was standing there, but then it all faded away and I felt a very eery feeling come over me….just before I woke up in tears.

Hubby heard my sobbing and tried to console me, even though he wasn’t quite awake yet.  Now, it’s early morning Saturday….and I’m feeling scared for my daughter and grandson.  I want to hold him in my arms.  I want to hold her like I did when she was young.  I feel so lost for answers, as I’ve tried to call her…but she does not answer.  I’ve tried to call my son too–though he’s another story entirely–he doesn’t answer either.

My kids (minus Baby) have 86’ed me from their lives.  The reason my daughter ‘M’ might give is that I stood her up for a dinner that I RSVP’ed to–though most people will never hear the part where she told me not to go, she didn’t want me there; right before hanging up in my ear.  We decided against exposing our youngest to any drama that might ensue should we go anyway.

As for my son–He never called me and asked what was going on between me and his big sister.  He just went to linching me right along with her.  Still, I’m not mad at either on of them…even if the trust has crumbled.  I miss them, even though they have the tendencies to dig up old bones, that are distorted in truth at best.  I love them…no matter what they do or say to me.  As I’m sure all mother’s know–Our love is unconditional.

Still, I wish I could go back to sleep…if only to see my daughter’s face once again.  My grandson wasn’t in the dream, though I wondered where he was.  I miss his sweet smile.  I miss my son’s goofy nature…and when was the class clown; the teachers always sending home notes.  I still hope that someday…he’ll become a comedian in movies, like Jim Carrey.  I’ll never give up on my kids.  I sooner give up on myself.

The sun is rising-fast across the lake.  How I wish they could be here with me to see it.

*Oh my aching heart*


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A Mother’s Prayer

The Joy of Innocents

 

Awoke early this morning — my mind an abundance of thoughts. The sun has-yet to show its face as I sit here and try to find my words. Still…nothing. Laying in bed this morning, I had so many things to say; if only I could record what I am thinking right when it strikes. But, my dreams remain elusive to the writing I attempt this cold, crisp…late December day.

I have been thinking a lot about my older children: the one’s who are now grown in years, but still so young in mentality; the one’s who are still not talking to me, mostly…I suspect, because they feel guilty for writing such harsh things about me on Facebook and disrespecting me worse than I ever imagined they could…or would. My heart was shattered that day; the day I had no choice but to block my own kids from my social page. I still can’t believe it wasn’t all a terrible nightmare.
But…it is only another day in my life…with my adult kids constantly blaming me for anything…everything that has ever gone wrong for them. Will it ever end? I wonder…

I pray that my youngest–still in her toddler years–will have a milder temperament when it comes to forgiveness, understanding, loving another unconditionally. I suspect, because she is partially of a different genetic pool, that she will not be so difficult as my other two have always been. There has been no break from drama for the past 10 to 15 years. Never a dull moment with those two. I miss when they were young and still so innocent and sweet. I worry where I went wrong; hoping I won’t make the same mistakes with Baby.

Being a mom is the single-most difficult, scary, frustrating, heartbreaking, rewarding, priceless job a woman can do in her lifetime. Being a dad is equally the same for dedicated fathers who stand by their wife (or ex-wife…be-it-so) through it all.

I commend those parents who seem to have it down to a science; the ones who have reared their children so well. I look up to them…and envy them, all at once.
The only thing I have left to do these days…so it seems, is pray.