Living my own dream

This is an ode to my husband. He of sexy accent and cute smile and shared bathroom. God love him. I sure do. I married the first person that made me feel special when I was 18 years old. He went on to crush me in so many ways there is still evidence of my wariness now. BUT! He gave me two wonderfu sons who I simply love more than my next breath. I can deal with the history of Brian and I. If only to be glad in the being of Chase and Chris.

Then came Patrik. I think I may have seduced him...sort of. We had been giving each other the eye for a couple of weeks. He was a bellman at La Concha where dad was the Genereal Manager. I worked in the gift shop there, managed by someone else. We batted eyes at each other for awhile and then one night he came into the shop and asked me to take a break with him. We just talked, in a smoky hallway behind the kitchen. He told me he was from Slovakia and I swear I almost corrected him ("you mean Czecholslovakia..." ) but thank goodness I didn't (the country had split into Slovakia and Czech Republic in 1993). A week or two after our talk in the back hallway I left a note on his podium...it said in essence that I would like to get to know him better outside of work but not to tell anyone since his boss was my dad. I couldn't believe he wasn't fazed by that. Long story short, we dated, dad ended up loving him, and we married at a wonderful wedding in Key West on April 17, 1999. I loved my wedding. I had a ball. Patrik doesn't even remember it- he was so nervous. It was the last time I ever danced with dad. It was glorious. It was everything I ever wanted in a wedding. Seriously.

The first 3 years of marriage were HARD. Patrik had inherited two pre-pubescent boys that I spent much energy siding with. It was difficult at best. But we muddled thru. Went on to have beautiful Laura, Julia, and Emma. Lucky us.

Lucky us. We held on thru the tough stuff. And have somehow ended up here, at a place where I think we are both so blessedly comfortable and pleased with how things have turned out. We put up with each other on the bad days, and are completely smitten on the good ones. I just can't believe it sometimes. Does he drive me crazy? Hell yes! But I also know better than to judge on the stuff that makes me want to strangle. I watch him with the girls- his desire to snuggle, his jumping up and dancing with them on a whim during a great Slovak song, his passion for me always...he says "I love you" more than I do and I hope this stinginess of heart isn't a result of being so hurt before...I am working on this like you wouldn't believe. Because I DO SO VERY love him. He makes me laugh, he GETS me, he supports me, he adores my children. He's still cute, too! He is RIGHT for me. We balance each other. I am so damn grateful to have him. Even when I feel blinded by anger or frustration...I will not leave this...this is what I have been searching for my entire life. The thing I never thought I'd find. The thing I was too shy or too fat for. Patrik validates me in more ways than even I realize. Because despite the irritible bowel and the PMS and the pushy insistence to have things MY WAY! and my weight gain and easy tears and my unwavering liberalness...he's stayed. He's here. He is right now putting new locks and handles on the front door because the old ones were tarnished..not broken but tarnished...

*sigh*

He has been my hero more than a couple of times. He would die for my kids...all of them...even the ones that were breathing before I met him. He would sacrifice himself for mom and my brothers...he would shrink to an unrecognizble form of himself if anything happened to me.

He is my husband. And I am so full of gratitude that I found him. I cannot describe the way he looks at me sometimes...as if he's never seen me before...how does he do that? He is the prince charming of my adolescent dreams. Who knew I'd be lucky enough to really get him??!!

*sigh*

I know when to count blessings. When it comes to my husband, sometimes I count them twice.

Happy New Year.

*Happy Anniversay, Mom*

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Just taking a minute in my lovely chaos to wish all I love a very Merry Christmas and a wonderful New Year. You are all the true blessings of my life.

*Miss you, Dad*

On being thankful

There are Christmas decorations that have been up for more than a week now. There are Christmas movies on tv, and Christmas carols on the radio. I know why, I understand the desperation of this economy. But in innundating us so early with all of these things that I actually love about Christmas, Thanksgiving is getting overshadowed. And Thanksgiving deserves its own limelight. A day of the year to focus on all that we have that causes gratitude in life...what a glorious thing.

It's a small world...and we are all in this together.

I am generally a thankful person. When I hear of the difficulties of others my mantra remains, "There but for the grace of God go I.". I have had my share of tough times but have always had someone standing by me thru them. And I've always been lucky enough to come thru these times stronger, better even, than before. I know that it could just as easily be me with the lost job, the foreclosed home, the sick child. And that I am enjoying a life barren of these things makes me humbly grateful.

I am thankful to have these glorious, crazy kids. The lot of them define the very essence of who I am and dictate many of the choices I make in life. They are such a huge part of who I am that my self melds with their existence. And that's okay with me. A life with five blessings is something that brings me naked joy.

I am thankful that Joe makes me laugh, that he gets me like no one else ever could. I always think -" when I grow up I want to be just like him". And I know if I ever needed anything, he would be there, no questions asked, as he has before. I hope and pray he knows the same stands for him...he is my champion and always has been.

I am thankful that Mark has come to a clearer path in life. He has worked so hard to pull free and find who he is and that makes him a hero in my eyes. I hope he realizes that he is never alone and that all he needs to do is call and I will listen -that how he feels is important to me and that the girls adore him.

I am thankful for mom in more ways than I could ever express in the written word. She is the epitome of gentle strength and I often wish I was more like her. There has never been a time in my life that I have doubted her love and support and I think that is such a huge thing- to be confident in a parent's love. My kids revere her...they couldn't ask for a more wonderful Gram, and they too have been blessed knowing that she is always on their side. That her love for them is uncompromisable. Thank you, Mom. We love you so.

My best friend Kerri has seen me thru the major ups and downs of life. She and I don't ever see enough of each other, are guilty of letting life get in the way, but when we come together it is such a comfort that we simply pick up where we left off, no awkwardness or doubt. Our friendship is a bright, simple thing and it brings me happiness. It is so good, having someone that doesn't mind the silences, that in fact sees them as a strength. And her family is my family. Period.

I have these girls at work that have taken me under their wings and made me laugh and seen me cry and shore me up. I know how rare that is, co-workers you can honestly call friends. And I am thankful for them.

I have a job that is both heartbreaking and fulfilling, if that's possible. I am honored to care for families that are going thru the toughest of times and if my presence brings even a moments peace to a heavy heart, then I am doing my job well and the hard stuff is worth it.

Every now and then Patrik looks across the room at me with eyes that seem to be seeing me for the first time. I don't know how he does that after nearly 10 years of marriage and bunches of kids and chores and LIFE, but it reminds me that every now and then fate works just the right way and you actually do end up with the prince you were searching for all your life.

I am thankful to have had dad for 31 years. It was not long enough by far and I still miss him, will always miss him. It still catches me at odd moments the FIERCENESS of his loss in my heart. But my memories are strong and bright, a light so startling I nearly have to avert my eyes from it. And I carry him with me, still.

It is fitting that in this difficult world I take the time to count my blessings. Remembering those things that bring you joy is life affirming and a reminder of what is truly important: family, friends, work that inspires you, comfort, memories.

And if you are reading this, I am thankful for you. I hope you carry that with you like a tiny glowing star, and when times are tough, pull it out and hold it to your heart.

You are loved.

Remembering September 11, 2001

On the morning of September 11, 2001, I was at work at Palm Beach Gardens Medical center. I was a nurse on the open-heart step-down unit and it started like any other Tuesday. I happened to walk into a patient's room just after they started broadcasting the strike of the first plane into the Twin Towers. I stood there and watched with my patient, both of us shocked that a plane could make such a mistake, could hit a building like that. Then the other plane hit and we both were stunned into silence. I remember saying, "That was deliberate." And I remeber a dread filling my very core.

As the events of that day transpired, my first thought was I had to get to my kids. Had to get Laura, who was only 1, from the sitter, and get Chris out of elementary school. I wanted to get them and lock myself in my house and never leave. Incidentally, I felt the same way after the Oklahoma City bombing. It is just such a primal thing, to keep our children safe from harm, protect them from the evils of the world.

There was such quiet on the unit at the hospital that day. We were terribly distracted, anxious, disbelieving. Of course, September 11th changed every American. We were suddenly united in a way I had not seen in my lifetime to that point. American flags soared everywhere. In the days that followed, we each of us sat in front of our televisions, unable to look away. I remember sitting on the floor of my home as the rescue attempt went on and on, and as the realization dawned that there would be very few survivors in the rubble, I wept. Like everyone else. As the television cameras panned across the great expanse of flyers and photos pinned up in New York City ("have you seen our loved one?"...), I wept some more. Like everyone else. And we we declared war, I was glad...like everyone else.

Somewhere along the way we have lost touch with the reasons of the war. I admit that I hold our presence in Iraq disdainfully. I would like us to get back to the job of finding those responsible for 9/11. But right now we are so caught up with other reasons for war, I fear that we may never return to the real reason for the war. Those evil men are still out there...and I want them caught. And yes, I also want them punished.

Even now, when I see clips of 9/11, I am transported back to that time and feel the exact same emotions....horror, sadness, even fear. I think that it is important that we move forward from the happenings of 9/11. But I think it is just as important that we remember. Always. It has indeed changed us all. I hope that in order to honor those that have fallen, it has changed us for the better.

We owe it to them- to find joy in the blessings of our lives, to prosper, to continue to stand together. We are all survivors of 9/11. So we owe it to ouselves, as well.
To never forget.

The light of our lives

There is something about Laura that I don't mention enough. She is perfect. I know, I know...mothers love and all that. But I look at her sometimes and wonder what I did to be rewarded in life with this lovely creature. She is beautiful, no question...her luminous blue eyes and long gold hair, her trecherously long legs and quick smile. But there's more. She is funny and kind and eager to please and smart as a whip.

Don't get me wrong. She has her moments. She is especially hard-headed with her dad on weekends when I'm working (or so I hear). She has a tendency to coccoon herself in her room and deny the other girls entrance. She puts off (and off) her reading assignments and chores. She's been known to talk back....though rarely to me.

I so treasure what she and I have. She is open with me, enjoys hanging out and talking, rarely complains. She is just a bright shinging light in my life. I enjoy her company, I revel in her accomplishments, and I take nothing for granted. All of my other kids have things about them that make them precious to me. I have talked about them all in this blog, except Laura. Maybe I haven't written about her because she causes me so little worry. I think it's easy to overlook the "easiest" child because it's the others that NEED so much. But I don't do that intentionally.

Laura was my first daughter. I remember the ultrasound where Patrik and I found out she was a girl and I just wept and wept for joy. I LOVE my boys, but was so thrilled to be getting a daughter. And this kid hasn't disappointed! She is lovely in every sense.

I am proud of her and love her and respect her. I am so afraid that our relationship will become like so many of my friends' relationships with their daughters when puberty hit...distant and sulking and moody. So I try very hard even now to let Laura know that she has my respect, my ear, my shoulder whenever she needs it. I would just fall into dispair if she pulled as far away from me as I have seen some teenage girls do. It would shatter me. I know I must give her wings, but not yet please, and not like that. I am blessed that the boys never really went through that stage with me, that they STILL feel that they can tell me anything (sometimes that's wonderful, sometimes downright shocking!). I hope and pray the girls will be the same with me. I never went through that particular teenaged angst with my mom. I always felt close to her, wasn't embarrassed by her presence, still kiss her goodbye. This is what I want with the girls. This gift that my mother gave me, of knowing I am loved and honored no matter what, this I want to share with my daughters. (Thank you, mom)

Laura is the oldest. She will go through most of life's changes and challenges first. I watch her grow and already wonder where my baby girl has gone. And then I look into her eyes and see she is still right here, with me, for as long as I can keep her.

I don't know what our future holds, but I know this: for all of her life, I will forever be her soft place to fall.

Odd (wo)man out

I have been so busy with life in general that I have not blogged in ages. Sorry about that! Summer break is in full swing and the kids are keeping me busy. 60 people were laid off from my company this week and I am breathing a sigh of relief that at least for now I wasn't one of them. Times are tough right now and I wish hard everyday for something truly good to happen to boost the country's morale.

Laura and Julia are home until school starts again August 18. Needless to say the noise level has increased exponentially in the house. They are frequently bored but play together quite nicely. They are true sisters and I hope that never changes. But it makes me wish I'd gone ahead and had a 6th blessing to be Emma's buddy. She wants so very much to be a part of the older girls' clique and Patrik and I try very hard to encourage her inclusion, but I also understand why they want to play alone most of the time. Emma is little, doesn't get the fine aspects of Barbie or school play, and gets into their "stuff". She just so wants to be BIG. And of course it isn't the same when the older girls are forced to allow Emma to join them. Emma is loud and demanding and smart and wants her way (ah, 3 year olds). Even coaching her to play their way doesn't change the fact that she is who she is.

I give the older girls plenty of space but sometimes I just can't stand Emma's loneliness. Not for me...I readily sit with her and watch her shows and read her stories. But the other night the older girls were having a ball in Laura's room and Emma sat alone, silent, at the computer and my heart just broke. I don't know the answer to this and I worry worry that there will always be some seperation between the twosome and Emma. She is different in her own lovely way but so tiny, really. Only been alive for 43 months. Jeez.

I hope that as she grows it will be easier for her to meld with her sisters, that she won't always be the odd man out. And for now I do my best to let her know that she is so very important, and loved, and perfect just the way she is.

Because she is.

ps...and she's FINALLY out of diapers! Praise the Lord!

*thinking of you and wishing you well, Uncle Tom*

Large families and God's will

The Duggar family, which has been profiled exhaustively on TLC, is expecting their 18th child. Eighteenth. I used to really be impressed with them and the way they seemed to hold it all together under the clear stress of raising such a large family. I had no problem with their belief that it was God's will to have so many children. They were mentioned in the paper over the weekend for their coming attraction and on the local radio this morning. And I have to be honest..at this point I don't get it.
I don't get how there is any way possible to parent such a massive brood. I don't think God would want any parental unit so outnumbered that they have to put the older kids in charge of the younger ones. And I don't get how being a mother to kids you cannot possibly keep up with can be rewarding.
I have 5 kids and I can barely keep up with the day to day. It would never occur to me to put older kids in charge of the wellbeing of younger ones. They are my kids, it was my choice to have them. It wouldn't be fair to have someone else spend their energy looking out for them.
So I have gone from revering the Duggars to feeling something close to disdain. I feel sorry for the older kids, the eldest is only 20 and he has been looking out for younger siblings forever. How will he ever break free? It is mathematically impossible for that mom to mother each of those kids everyday. And really, if you can't parent your own children, you have no business having more.
It certainly is their right to continue to procreate. But I'm tired of them, I think they're ridiculous. They're having another baby and the last one is only 9 months old. So that baby couldn't even have mama to herself for the first year...she's pregnant and has to deal with all that that entails. The parents are exploiting those kids on television and have in turn been able to procure quite a profit (7000 sq foot house..on the salary of one working parent? I think not).
I believe God is all for large families. Within reason. The minute you cannot in good concience spend adequate time with each of them, it's time to control yourself and stop. And just love the blessings you have.

The Duggars have twisted the phrase "All that God intended". Because God also gave these people a brain and common sense. I bet at this point He wishes they'd use them.